"S'pose I should find her, really?" Faith mused, leaning up to scan the pub for Jean.

"That sounds like a very good idea." Eric agreed, as Faith pushed her chair back, legs scraping on the floor and left the pub, squinting in the dark for Jean.

She tottered across the road and spotted a dark haired figure sitting on the bench beyond the telephone box on the strip of grass where a proud tree shaded guests under a plume of leafy branches.

"Jean!" She called out and the figure turned its head sharply away. Faith, having found her, approached the bench.

"Thought I'd find you here."

"No you didn't." Jean retorted, "you made a clever assumption based on deduction of the most likely places."

"Hark at you, eh? Little Sherlock Holmes?" Faith chortled, sitting down next to her, "now, I know that weren't very nice, what happened in there..."

"No. Its not nice to be judged on a name. People think that they know me. Know him!" Jean snapped, tears stinging her eyes, "but they don't. They don't know us!"

"Eh, come on now." Faith consoled her kindly, "I'll give yer one thing, yer can 'old yer own!"

"Makes no difference, though, does it?" Jean sniffed, "they just think we're trouble."

"After what happened with him and our Debbie, I s'pose it 'as tainted things as much, yes."

"But I'm not Joe." She broke down, sobbing, "I just want to see him."

"Course yer do. Eh," Faith put her arm around her and pulled her close. There was a lot of truth in the girl's words. It wasn't her fault that she was part of the same family and all things detached, she was just a lonely little girl in a foreign country. Sympathy tugged at her heart. "Its a brave thing, travellin' all this way. Hard on the nerves too, I'll bet."

Jean nodded, grateful for Faith's kindness.

"Thought so. What you need is a nice hot water bottle, my best hot chocolate and a good sleep. Everythin' will look better tomorrow." She assured Jean.

"Tomorrow is Christmas."

"Yes it is. Which means its even more important for you to get enough sleep to enjoy it."

Jean sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"Joe and I used to stay up until midnight." She admitted, "he used to pretend to be asleep and open everything before anyone got up." She smiled wistfully, "I brought him a present."

"What did you get him?" Faith questioned, careful to edit out her own comment that Joe didn't really need anything.

"Brought him a photo of us three." Jean explained, "he doesn't have one at the house."

"Nice thought." Faith agreed carefully, "I suppose he couldn't bring everything with him to the village."

"No. He wouldn't be able to show it anyway. Its Kim's house now, apparently."

"Oh yes."

"You've seen Kim?"

"Briefly. Didn't speak to her much. More of a push and pull conversation, really."

"Oh." Jean looked crestfallen, "but Joe? You've seen him?"

"Not recently, pet. But I have seen him, yes."

"He wouldn't run away." Jean stated, "he just wouldn't."

"In that case, he'll come back, won't he?" Faith suggested, keeping her temper.

"Yes. He will."

"But now, Miss? I think its time that we got home and settled ourselves, eh?"

Faith stood up, groaning at her creaking limbs.

"Never get old." She grumbled.

"I already am." Jean grinned. Faith linked her arm through the young girl's and led her back to the pub.

"So, homeward bound, Mr Pollard." Faith announced.

"Righto. See you on the 27th, Rodney."

"I shall indeed!" Rodney called back enthusiastically.

"Goodnight all."

"Night, Eric!" Chas replied as Eric, Faith and Jean left the pub. It wasn't a long walk back to the barn conversion that Faith and Eric had made their home and Jean was glad of it.