A/N I'm not sure about this chapter, but I'm posting it anyway becuase it took me ages to write. As always, thanks to my lovely reviewers CherryLove23 and XxXCrookshanksXxXP3!

Part 10

He had been so sure that he needed to see John Paul's flatmate Niall the night before, but now, as he stood before the door, with its brass number 3, Spike wasn't so certain. He knocked on the door anyway, and waited, tentatively, for an answer. Two minutes later, the door was wrenched open, and an annoyed looking, tall, shaven haired man was standing behind it, glaring at him. He didn't say anything, and the awkward silence that ensued made it difficult for Spike to speak.

Mentally, Spike kicked himself. He had never let himself be intimidated before, why should he now?

"Are you Niall Rafferty, the man who lives in this flat with Kieron Hobbs and John Paul McQueen?"

Niall simply nodded. He didn't know who the man on his doorstep was, and he was annoying him. He had a feeling he was going to start asking questions, questions Niall certainly didn't want to answer. Was he some sort of reporter? An extremely inept one? He needed to get rid of him, in any case.

They could both hear someone walking up the stairs behind them, and along the corridor came Myra McQueen. A person who was defiantly likely to disrupt Niall's plans.

"Morning, Niall, Spike" said Myra, as she approached them. "I was wondering if I might pick up some of John Paul's stuff, Niall? You haven't seen him, have you, only he didn't come home last night."

Spike didn't know if Niall knew of John Paul's arrest, but it would seem Myra had no idea her son had spent the night in a police cell.

"No, Myra, I haven't seen him. Of course you can come in and get some of his things. Spike, would you like to come in too?"

The change in Niall's attitude threw Spike. One moment he had been intimidating, trying to prevent Spike from entering the flat, and now? Now he was charming, and helpful. Why? wondered Spike.

Niall opened the door wider, to allow Spike and Myra to enter the flat. "John Paul's room was the one on the left, Myra. Did you want a cup of tea or coffee?"

"Tea please, Niall" replied Myra as she walked down the corridor to John Paul and Kieron's room. Spike stalled in the living room. A piece of paper lying on the floor, almost underneath one of the sofas had caught his eye. If his memory wasn't deceiving him, he thought that that piece of paper had been there when he had visited the flat three days earlier. With Niall's back turned, as he located tea bags and sugar, Spike bent down to pick up the paper. He could see now, that it was a letter, and that there was a photograph of Niall paper-clipped to it. He folded the letter, and stuffed it into his pocket, unwilling to let Niall see he had picked it up. There was something about that man that made him wary.

Niall turned around, holding a mug of tea, and handed it to Spike, motioning that he should take it to Myra. Niall hadn't offered Spike a cup of tea, and he wasn't intending to. He didn't like this man prying, especially since he had heard John Paul mention his name once or twice.

Spike walked down the corridor into John Paul's room, where he found Myra packing a bag with stripy hoodies. He smiled slightly; he remembered John Paul's love for stripes. He handed Myra her cup of tea, and pulled the letter out of his pocket. He didn't know if it was simply his curiosity, but he had a feeling he should read the letter. Sitting down on the bed, he pulled the photograph of Niall from the top of the letter and began to read.

Kieron,

I did have a son who I believe was abandoned in a church, his name was Simon. I have enclosed a photograph of him, which was taken when he was 13. I hope it will be of some use to you in your search.

Simon came to live with us when he was 9. He was in a children's home before that, but I couldn't find their details, maybe you should ring Cheshire county council? His social worker told us he had been left in a church soon after he was born, I think it was in one of the papers, and the story defiantly matches the one you told me.

As for where he is now, I am not sure. Simon left us in 1995 not long after he turned 16, and I haven't heard from him since. Andy, one of our other foster sons was in contact with him for a while, and I have an address and a phone number for him, which I have written on the back on this letter.

I wish you luck in contacting Simon

Mrs Ruth Rees

Spike was confused. This letter was referring to a man called Simon, who had been abandoned in a church, but the photo was clearly of the man standing in the living room. Of Niall.

Myra had had her back to Spike, whilst she folded more of John Paul's clothes into the bag she held, but she turned around to take a sip of her tea, and saw the photograph of Niall he had left laying on the bed. She picked it up, and her nosey nature took over. She took the letter Spike was holding and read it. She knew the significance of the letter, but she could hardly believe it. Kieron had found her firstborn son, the son she had abandoned in that church 28 years ago. Her firstborn son was Niall? It was clearly Niall, the photograph was clearly Niall. Did Niall know? Did Niall know she was his mother? Was this all just a strange coincidence?

Her hands trembling, she walked out of the room into the living room. When she saw Niall, when she saw his face, she involuntarily glanced down at the photograph, and Niall followed her gaze. Suddenly he knew he'd been caught out, and panic hit him. What should he do now? Feign ignorance? Embrace his treacherous mother? Pay her back for his long years of misery?

"Niall," her voice was shaking, as tears crept into her eyes. Tears of sadness at her adolescent mistake, and tears of joy at her reunion with her eldest son.

It came from nowhere. Neither parties had been expecting it, least of all Niall, and yet his right fist came flying up from where it was to connect with Myra's face. She was knocked backwards, staggering, trying to regain her balance, when he pushed her again.

"Bitch!" He spat the word at her. Years of anger and aggression were spilling out of him now. Years of blaming this women for every little thing wrong with his life, jealous of the happy life her and her other children led. That was all going to change now.

She had found her way to the sofa, and was sitting down, head in her hands, staring at the young man. Her confusion was written across her face, as was disbelief.

"Why?"

Niall finally voiced the question that had been tormenting him for those long years.

"Why did you leave me, abandon me? Why only me and none of the others?"

"I was young, I couldn't cope" came the mumbled reply, the feeble excuse. He was towering over her, and she was afraid, afraid to speak the words.

"You with your happy lives, your family spirit, your resilience. Impossible to tear apart, not when I assaulted your mother, not when I gave Michaela that overdose, not even when I made you find John Paul in bed with that priest! Well your pretty little son's going to pay for that now. Now his lovers dead and the police are convinced he did it."

"You killed Kieron" whispered Spike. "You framed John Paul."

He had been forgotten about, by both Niall and Myra, until then. Standing, watching the scene unravelling before him, witnessing but not intervening. But now he had to intervene. His hand had moved to his mobile phone, his thumb poised over the '9' as Niall moved towards him. He skirted around Niall and dodged out of the flat, thumb punching that key three times, before he made it out of the flat.

He called the police and waited. Waited until he heard the sirens. Waiting, hoping Myra would be alright, angry with himself for abandoning her, but knowing it was the only way, and he waited, watching as two uniformed policeman walked Niall Rafferty, or was that Simon McQueen, out of the apartment building, and into a squad car. He was still stood there when two paramedics escorted Myra from the building, her face badly bruised, but no worse than when Spike had run out. He could hear her shouting.

"I'm alright, it's only a bruise. I want to see my son, John Paul."