Hello, sorry that it's been over a year since this was last updated. Life got very hectic with exams and opportunities and things like that. My main explanation is that I usually write at least two chapters at a time so I can upload them smartish, but I decided that I had to do more research into '70s court law in England and eventually... well. I left it a bit long and responsibilities appeared.

Anyway, I hope I still have readers and that you enjoy!

The day of the court case grew nearer and as it did, Gently got noticeably more irritable and impatient with everyone around us. I managed to shrug it off for the first few times, even joking that he was just getting his own back for the number of times I'd snapped at him. Not even Rachel was safe from his temper. And it was little things he was picking on; a momentary misremembering of a fact, or taking more than five seconds to answer a question. I managed to keep my cool, but eventually, even Taylor had to take a few deep breaths to stop from pointing out Gently's dark mood.

It was impossible to get meaningful work done around him and Rachel asked me if I'd please speak to him.

I'd agreed reluctantly, but it had been hard to get guv alone and somewhere private in order to confront him.

Nicely, of course. Calm-like.

I finally cornered Gently in the toilets. He gave me a wary look as I blocked the door. "Guv, we need to talk."

"What about?"

I took a breath and plunged into the depths, "The fact that you're panicking about the trial, guv."

Gently blinked like I'd surprised him. Then his face set into a pugnacious scowl. "I'm not panicking, John. I'm a little… concerned. Haven't you got work to do?"

"Guv! I know you're scared!" I couldn't stop the shout.

I've got to hand it to him, Guv recovered quickly. "And what makes you think I'm scared?" he challenged.

"Maybe the way you're jumping down everyone's throats. Maybe the fact that every little noise puts you on edge. Maybe it's the fact that you can't seem to sleep –"

Gently jabbed his finger in my face, "You're walking on thin ice, son."

"Oh, am I?" I stepped forwards. "Are you still freezing up?"

His flinch told me everything I needed to know. But still, Gently tried to bluster. "And do you really think I need your opinion on –"

"Guv, I understand. I do." I scratched my head and swallowed nervously. "It's nerve-wracking, honestly. I'd hate to have to stand up in front of a court and talk about what happened –"

Gently eyed me for a moment, sighed, and quietly said, "You're not helping, John."

I blinked.

Gently glared at me. "I'm admitting I'm scared. Are you happy now?"

Not really, but it was a start. "OK. OK. Guv – sir, I think you should go home." Gently began to protest, but I added, "I don't mean you shouldn't be back at work, sir, no. What I mean is that you need to sleep. You need to get better. You're not going to – to recover if you're pushing yourself to the limit like you are here."

"I'm alright, John." It was reflexive. He settled against the wall with his hands in his pockets. "I'm alright," he repeated quietly.

"Do you want to talk, guv?"

The raised eyebrow was a work of art. "Not the most appropriate venue, John."

"Later then. I think you should…" I rubbed my cheek, "I think you should talk to someone about it, why not me?"

"I…" Gently shook his head. "I think you're right, John. I think you're right. I'm going home."

I watched him walk out of the toilets. His fists were both clenched by his side. I didn't call out to him and he didn't turn around.

The file sat innocuously on my desk. I slouched low in my chair, staring. It lay as flat and still as a bundle of paper and card should.

This is ridiculous, I thought. You could just read it. You've got every right to.

But Gently doesn't want you to know.

He won't know that you know.

"That's not the point," I snapped.

"Talking to yourself again, sir?"

I panicked.

Rachel pulled a chair over and sat in front of me. Brushing a stray strand of hair away from her eyes, she leant forward and pulled the file towards her. She didn't open it either, instead tapping it thoughtfully.

I hated how my voice regressed about twenty years as I whispered, "Why didn't Gently trust me?"

"For someone who passed the inspector's exam, you rate low in deductive reasoning," Rachel said.

"What are you…?"

Rachel sighed and shook her head. "Men," she muttered, "Think about it. How would you feel after going through something like that?"

Like shit, I thought. Terrified. I remembered the lonely climb back to health after the shooting and the tumour of icy self-doubt that knotted up my insides even when I was walking at the same pace I'd used to…

"You mean he's embarrassed? Or something?"

Gesticulating wildly, Rachel crowed, "He gets it! Honestly, John – Sir – Gently's… well, he's had to rely on other people. He's – in his mind, I think – shown weakness."

I still didn't understand. "Why didn't he let me take his statement then? I was there. He wouldn't be revealing anything new to me."

Rachel went quiet.

"What?"

"He was trying to protect you, John."

I frowned. "Protect?"

"Shield then," Rachel ran a hand through her hair, "It was a… full… report."

My eyes widened. "I know that Raleigh drugged him. But Gently doesn't want me to know about everything else."

Rachel was tapping her fingers on the desk. "Look, it's not my place. If Gently wants to tell you, then… he'll tell you. When he's ready."

"That'll be when Hell freezes over," I found myself muttering. As Rachel turned her gaze on me, I shrank back. Waving my hands, I added, "Alright. Alright. I get it."

"You should maybe, you know, nudge him along a bit, though," Rachel said absently.

I raised my eyebrows, but Rachel just got up and left.

I decided that I might as well go visit Guv that evening. Only stopping long enough to pick up a bottle of wine that was just about expensive enough to serve as an apology without being seen as grovelling, I broke the speed limit to get to Gently's cottage.

If I thought too long, I wouldn't have been able to force myself to go. There were still remnants of fury in my stomach.

I dragged myself out of my car when I arrived and rapped on Gently's front door.

He didn't answer.

I kept knocking. "C'mon, Guv," I snapped. "Open the door." Finally I decided to have a walk around the back. Just to check, like.

He wasn't in his back garden either. His lights were off and after a few minutes of searching, I found a single set of footprints leading from his door and out towards the hills.

I'll confess, I did have a moment of panic, but the fact that the tracks were leisurely reassured me. Gently probably just went to clear his head and go fishing. I hesitated about following him. I was fed up of having to apologise and tiptoe and…

The memory of my recovery in hospital began to play insidiously.

"You know you're a fucking nuisance?" I muttered to my conscience as I started to pick my way down towards the river.

Once I got down to the river, I had perhaps fourteen seconds of calm before three things hit me in rapid succession.

One: I couldn't see Gently.

Two: Gently's fishing gear was spread along the bank and abandoned.

Three: There was something in the water and slowly being drawn down towards rapids.

I didn't think. I ripped off my jacket and dived into the river. The water closed over my head. The pain was like hitting a brick wall. I shot upwards, bursting through the surface of the water as my lungs immediately screamed for air. The rapids tugged at my limbs, but I steeled myself and thrust out my arms and fought my way across the river towards the floating –

Not a body!

I grasped Gently's opposite shoulder, tearing the cloth of his sleeve as I dragged at the dead weight – no! – turning him over onto his back. I flung my arm around his chest and began to tow him back towards the bank. The water slapped against my face and the droplets clinging to my cheeks and hair stung like needles. Guv's head rolled limply back as I kicked my way towards safety. Was he breathing? I wasn't sure. Please breathe…

My grappling fingers closed about a handful of wet reeds and I choked out a desperate plea as I pulled on the slippery weeds. One or two came free in my hand but suddenly I was clawing my way up the bank, one hand digging deep into the soil, the other twisted in Gently's shirt and fishing vest. Gently abruptly vomited water all down himself, but I didn't care. The sound of his coughing was like music.

"Guv! Guv!" I hooked him and dragged him onto flat ground, shouting over and over as I did so. He rolled weakly onto his side and dry-heaved. I was by his side, slapping his back to try and get the water out of his lungs. Gently shuddered and vomited again before curling up. "Guv, are you hurt? What happened? Did you faint? Is this the MS?" I crawled around so he could see me, "Guv, talk to me!"

He shook his head. His lips moved as he tried to form words, tremors wracking his body. His gaze was unfocused. I reached over to take off the sodden jacket, feeling the cold air tearing at my own skin. Christ.

Gently grabbed my wrist. His grip was stronger than I expected which was a good sign. "John," he managed, "This wasn't an accident."

Shock turned me to stone. "What?"

"Not an accident," Gently repeated faintly, closing his eyes. "John, somebody tried to kill me."