Really sorry this is late - real life took over for a while. Back on track now, though.

If you spot what you think is a mistake in this chapter, it's not! It'll all make sense in the end. (You'll see what I mean!)

Chapter Four

Jeff had braced himself for the sight of flames soaring skyward and the sound of blaring alarms and sirens, convinced that he was going to arrive just in time to watch his factory crumble into ash, everything he'd worked so hard for destroyed at the hands of a man he'd done his best to help. Instead, he found the building still standing and everything quiet - eerily so, in fact, since none of the usual sounds of machinery could be heard. Only the sight of his workers standing around in small groups, shivering in the cold, plus two fire trucks, a police car and an ambulance parked at the corner of the building, gave away the fact that something out of the ordinary had taken place.

The fear that had gripped him since he'd received the call faded a little, but he was still desperate to find out what had happened. First, though, he'd have to find someone to keep an eye on Virgil. Any hope Jeff had had that the drive would lull his son into sleep so he could focus on the crisis at his factory the moment he arrived, had quickly been dashed. As soon as the boy saw the first of the fire trucks he was bouncing about in his seat, squealing in excitement, and, despite everything, Jeff couldn't help smiling. His son might look like his mother, and he certainly seemed to have inherited her artistic and musical talents, but show him a fire truck or an aeroplane or any other example of mechanical mastery - the bigger the better - and he was all Jeff's.

Spotting his foreman engaged in an animated conversation with a fireman and a teenage boy he vaguely recognised as one of his workers, he pulled to a halt as close to them as he could get and flung the door open, struck immediately by the tang of smoke in the air.

Diving into the back, he wrenched open the clasps on Virgil's safety harness as quickly as he could - a job not made any easier by the way his son was squirming around, desperate to get out.

"Calm down, Virgil!" he muttered, but as he'd known it would, his son's excitement only increased the moment he was out of the car.

"Jeff!" His foreman had disengaged himself from the others and come running over.

"Hey, Mac. What's going on? How bad is it?"

Whatever Mac had been going to say in response was lost as Virgil once more began to babble in excitement.

"Virgil, be quiet. I'll take you over later, I promise," Jeff told him. "Daddy just needs to talk to some people first."

Virgil, however, was having none of it, his howl of disappointment at being carried in the opposite direction to the fire truck nearly shattering Jeff's ear drums. Mac, who knew all Jeff's boys well and usually liked nothing better than to make a fuss of them, just frowned in frustration, an expression mirrored by his employer.

"Need a hand, Jeff?"

Jeff turned in relief at the sound of a voice he knew well. It still struck him as strange that people he'd known as a boy and who, in many cases, he'd looked up to during his formative years, now worked for him. Nora had been his first crush. Twenty years on, she might have cut the waist-length blonde hair that had fascinated him every time he'd sat behind her in class, not to mention having put on a few pounds, but she was still a very attractive woman and Lucy hated her. Jeff had made the mistake of telling his wife about his teenage yearnings when he'd introduced her to Nora at a staff party, and she had viewed the woman with suspicion ever since. Jeff didn't understand it. Nora was hardly a threat - after all, she'd been dating Mac for over a year. And even if she had been single it wouldn't have made any difference. He'd never so much as looked at another woman with anything other than complete disinterest since he'd met Lucy and he knew he never would. Why his wife couldn't believe him when he told her that there'd never be anyone else for him, he didn't know. He meant it, too - she'd made him happier than he'd ever expected to be, and given him three beautiful sons. Soon to be four, when little Alan arrived...

"Do you mind?" Jeff was handing Virgil over even as he asked the question. Lucy wouldn't like it, but he had more important things to worry about right now.

"Of course not. Anyway, it gives me an excuse to get a little closer to some men in uniform and that's never a bad thing." She winked at Jeff and laughed at Mac as she put Virgil down and let him drag her over to the fire truck.

Smiling as Nora made the inevitable observation to the little boy that he looked exactly like his mother, Jeff turned back to Mac who was watching her with the same expression Jeff knew had been on his own face all through his first year of high school. But there were more important matters to attend to.

"Mac!" he said sharply, and the man blinked as he came back to reality.

"It's okay, Jeff. The top end of the building is damaged, but it could have been a whole lot worse."

"Who's the ambulance for?"

"One of the packers. There was a lot of smoke and it triggered his asthma. It's just a precaution - he'll be fine."

Mac had just started to outline what had happened when Jeff spotted a policewoman walking over to her car. "Come on," he said, steering Mac over towards her. "You can fill me in on the details later. I want to make sure they pick up Trask."

"Trask? What's he done?"

"What do you think? You said the fire was started deliberately."

"Ah." Mac looked sheepish. "We found out how it happened. It wasn't Trask, Jeff. Why would you think it was? You still having trouble with him?"

Jeff stared at him, completely thrown. "Mac, will you please just tell me what happened?"

As Mac led him back towards the people he'd been talking to when Jeff arrived, he explained how one of the apprentices had decided to take the opportunity for a quick cigarette when he'd been sent over to the storage units to pick something up. Knowing that he'd be in trouble - smoking anywhere on the premises was strictly forbidden - he'd panicked when he'd heard someone coming and tossed his cigarette away under a car. He wasn't to know that the car happened to have a tiny leak in the gas tank. The cigarette had been all that was needed to ignite the small puddle of fuel that had collected and a moment later the whole car had gone up. Since it was parked up against the factory wall at the time, it had taken part of the wall and two other cars with it. Things could have quickly got out of hand, but, as Mac pointed out, Jeff's insistence on installing the latest fire-fighting equipment had paid off, and the sprinkler system had quickly done its job, preventing the fire from spreading through the factory.

"I thought a bomb had gone off," Mac admitted. "The guy's only just admitted what happened. Idiot. You should fire him, Jeff. We can't restart production until the repairs are finished, which means we won't meet the delivery date for this order. If we lose the Westborough contact we'll be in trouble."

Jeff considered this for a moment. He knew he should be angry with the boy whose actions had caused all this trouble, but his overwhelming feeling right now was one of relief that it had just been a stupid accident. The thought of it all happening deliberately had made him feel sick, especially since he would always blame himself for not taking more direct action against Trask.

"Do you want to talk to him?" Mac asked, glaring at the apprentice who shrank back nervously. Jeff couldn't help feeling sorry for the boy - he guessed he'd already been on the receiving end of Mac's legendary temper.

"Later," Jeff told him. "First I want to talk to the fire department, then we'd better start thinking about how we're going to fix all this."

An hour later, Jeff was about to enter the factory unit to survey the damage inside for himself. The structural damage to the building itself was the main issue, but he need to see what equipment had been affected, not to mention trying to work out what materials and finished components were salvageable. A fireman handed him a hard hat, but before he could put it on, his phone rang.

It was Lucy, wondering why he was spending so long at the play centre. When Jeff informed her that he was at work she was none too happy and it was a moment before he could get a word in to tell her about the fire. Instantly her annoyance gave way to concern and she listened to Jeff's account of the situation with almost as much relief as Jeff himself had felt when he'd first been reassured that things weren't as bad as he'd anticipated.

"You're looking after Virgil, aren't you?" she asked suddenly.

"Sure," Jeff told her, looking round frantically for his son then spotting him sitting in the cab of one of the fire trucks, hands on the steering wheel, laughing away as he pretended to drive it. Nora was leaning against the side of the truck deep in conversation with a fireman, but Jeff decided to leave that part of the story out as he described their son's delight to Lucy.

"Be careful with him," Lucy told him. "How long will it take you to sort this out, Jeff? Do you want me to cancel the dinner reservation? I could come up and get Virgil if you like."

"No, honey," Jeff told her. "Give me an hour or so to deal with things out here then I'll come back. I'll need to make a few calls before we go, but I won't let you down. I promised you one last night out before the baby, remember?"

"Well, if you're sure. But don't get carried away and forget the time. I know you."

Promising he'd be back as soon as he could, Jeff hung up. That had gone better than he'd expected, he thought. If the fire had been deliberate or the damage worse, then she'd have been a lot more annoyed with him for taking Virgil along, but under the circumstances she'd been as supportive as she always was, knowing how important it was to the whole family that the business thrived.

When he came out of the factory some twenty minutes later, relieved that things weren't quite as bad as he'd anticipated, he pulled off his hard hat and took a moment to breathe in some fresh air.

"Daddy!"

The force of his son flinging himself at him nearly knocked him over. He couldn't make out much of what Virgil was saying, since the three-year-old was speaking so quickly and excitedly that the words made no sense, but he got the gist of it.

"Did you like the fire truck?" he asked, swinging his boy into his arms.

Virgil nodded and burst into another, slightly less frenetic, account of the things he'd seen.

"Thanks, Nora," Jeff said, as the woman approached.

"No problem. It was fun. How's it going here?" Nora asked.

"Mac's getting some of the men to board the place up, then it's just a case of trying to sort out what we do until the repairs are completed. If you could give me a hand calling the people who were due to come in for this evening's shift, I'd appreciate it."

"Sure."

"Come on, Virgil." Hugging his son, who was gazing wistfully at the last of the fire trucks as it turned out on to the road, Jeff made his way into the administration block and the warmth of his office.

He'd only intended to stay for an hour or so - as he'd told Lucy, a lot of the phone calls could be made from his study at home - but of course, as always happened when he got caught up in his work, time flew faster than he realised. He hadn't expected to have so much peace, for a start, but Virgil had been quite happy to lie on the floor of his office with a pencil and paper, singing happily to himself as he drew what Jeff assumed was a fire truck. It wasn't a bad effort for a three-year-old, he thought - it certainly beat anything his eldest could produce, and Scott was eight. But the most important thing was that it kept the boy quiet, and Jeff could get on with his work. Transferring production of a massive order at a minute's notice wasn't an easy task, but at least it looked as if he might have a chance of fulfilling the order after all.

Finally, knowing that he'd done all he could and that he'd just have to wait for the call from another manufacturer confirming that they could help him out, he got up and went to get himself a coffee, pausing for a moment to admire Virgil's latest drawing. Mac and Nora were in the small kitchen and Mac handed Jeff the cup of coffee he'd just poured, turning to prepare another for himself.

"Thanks," Jeff said. He glanced at his watch. "Hell, Lucy's going to kill me. I didn't realise it was so late. Remind me to pay you two overtime."

"Don't worry about it," Mac told him. "Although, are you likely to need us much longer?"

"Why?" Jeff asked, before the realisation hit him. "Oh Mac, I'm sorry, I forgot. Valentine's Day... You two must have plans."

Mac shrugged. "We were going to go up to that hotel you recommended. You know, the one where you took Lucy for your anniversary. We can cancel, but..."

"No, no." Jeff held up his hands. "You should have said something earlier. I wouldn't want to spoil your evening. You get going. The two of you have done more than enough."

Nora glanced over at Mac, then back at Jeff. "We can't leave you here alone."

"I'm nearly done," Jeff told her. "As soon as I've spoken to Howard I'm heading home."

"Well, if you're sure..." Nora and Mac looked dreamily at each other and Jeff laughed.

"Get out of here, the pair of you. And I don't want you thinking about work until Monday!"

"I think I can promise that!" Mac grinned at Jeff before taking Nora's hand and pulling her out of the room.

Jeff grinned back, watching the pair as they disappeared round the corner. "Right," he said to himself. "Five more minutes, then I'm out of here."

Of course, it didn't quite work out that way...

It wasn't his fault that the call didn't come as soon as he'd hoped. He occupied himself by checking his emails, but that led to another couple of calls and by the time Jacob Howard himself had rung to inform him that his factory could do the job but that the short notice would mean that Tracy Industries would have to pay a premium, Jeff was fully caught up in the negotiations for another deal with a company in Germany. By the time he'd given in and agreed to Howard's demands, he was so desperate to get something positive out of his day, that, with a silent apology to Lucy, he picked up the phone again.

After that, he really did intend to head off home, but towards the end of his phone call, Virgil had come quietly over to him, leaning into his side with half-closed eyes. Jeff ruffled his hair affectionately with his free hand, knowing as soon as his son's thumb went into his mouth that the boy was more than ready for a nap.

He should have shut the place up and taken Virgil home there and then, but he knew that although his son would sleep all the way home, as soon as he got into the house he'd be woken by his brothers and, by the time he'd finished telling them all about the fire truck he'd be wide-awake - and the others would be sulking because they hadn't had the same experience. Virgil would refuse to go back to sleep again, so by the time his mother arrived to baby-sit she'd be faced with one over-tired, fractious three-year-old and two stroppy older boys. He couldn't do that to her, not after she'd been so good to him over the past week or so.

So he decided to let Virgil sleep a little longer. Lifting him up, he carried him out to his secretary's office where a large couch ran along one wall. Placing his son down, he covered him with his jacket, watching for a moment as the boy snuggled up, asleep within moments.

Jeff debated whether to call Lucy, then decided that whilst she might well be angry at his failure to return when he'd said he would, she wouldn't be worried. She'd know that he'd been caught up with his work - it had happened often enough, after all. She wouldn't be shy in expressing her annoyance, not to mention her fear that he wouldn't make it back in time for them to go out for their meal, but the longer she kept him talking, the longer he'd end up staying at the office. He'd have to make another call when he got home too, which wouldn't go down well. Maybe he was better off staying put and keeping his head down until he was finished. There was no point in enduring two lectures. No, he thought, he wouldn't call or head home just yet. He'd put in another half an hour then go back. He'd take whatever Lucy threw at him, but it would be fine. He'd charm his way back into his wife's good books over dinner. It wouldn't be the first time he'd had to do it, and Jeff was pretty sure it wouldn't be the last.

Of course, half an hour later, he still hadn't quite finished. Shivering as he realised that the office was getting decidedly chilly - the heating had long since switched itself off - he got up for one last coffee. Fifteen more minutes. That really would be it. If he didn't leave then, he wouldn't be back in time to get ready for dinner and he wasn't going to risk that. He checked on Virgil, still fast asleep, warm and cosy under his jacket, then headed off to the kitchen.

He had just filled his cup when he heard a noise from outside. It sounded as though someone was trying the door. It would be the new night-watchman, Jeff thought - and he couldn't help but be grateful that he hadn't embarrassed himself by shooting his mouth off to the police about Trask, not when the man was clearly completely innocent. He glanced out of the window, only to see a shadowy figure moving away from the office block and across to the factory. Debating whether or not to go down to have a quick word with him, Jeff hesitated, thinking of Virgil back in the office. He didn't want his son waking up alone in a strange place. Then again, it took a lot to wake Virgil and he'd had an eventful day. It would only take a minute after all...

Jeff slipped downstairs and out of the door, but the guard had disappeared. He must be making his usual circuit of the premises, Jeff thought, hurrying along to the end of the building, intending to call the man back.

It wasn't a surprise when he heard footsteps approaching him. What was a shock, was the fact that they came from behind him.

Jeff didn't have time to turn round before someone grabbed him. Two people, judging from the way one person held his arms down whilst another pulled some kind of sack over his head. He did his best to fight back, but, outnumbered and unable to see his attackers, he was at a complete disadvantage. A sharp punch to the stomach left him on the floor and gasping for breath. He was pulled back to his feet and manhandled along, his arms held firmly behind his back.

"What's he doing here?"

"Don't know. Stick him with the other one."

Jeff would have known the second voice anywhere.

Trask.