Thankyou very kindly to each lovely person who reviewed the last chapter. I appreciate you all so much, I can't tell you.

I can only apologise for the length of this one. I seem to get it in my head where I want the chapter to end and then ramble on and on until I get there. If you make it to the bottom then well done in advance :)

Paul doubled back on himself and retreated to the door which he knew gave access to the first class reception. He had bypassed it without a thought earlier on the basis that, as it was standing open, he would have seen if his brother had turned in and would certainly not have missed him leaping up the grand staircase, reminiscent of a tall, gangly grass-hopper but now, after seeing the ships bow empty of passengers, doubts were starting to creep in, plaguing his mind, making their presence known, and he had turned back.

'I beg your pardon,' he said to the baby-faced guard manning the door opposite. 'Have you seen a young gentleman enter through here?' he gestured to the door behind him through which he himself had just entered. The guard shook his head.

'About five foot nine; slim build; black hair?'

'Sorry, sir.'

Paul allowed his hand to drop back to his side from where it had been measuring out Liam's height. He gave a heavy sigh and turned away, feeling frustrated and helpless.

'Although ...'

Paul turned back, almost cricking his neck as he did. 'Yes?' he asked eagerly.

'I believe I did see a gentleman of that description dart past the door. He never entered.'

'Past the door?' Paul repeated, 'Are you sure? I went all the way along and there was no one there.'

'Quite sure, sir. You tend to notice things like that when your job is to stand still and do precisely nothing for eight hours. I pray every morning for a little excitement to pass the time.'

'Hmm,' Paul said by way of reply. 'Is there anywhere he could have gone? Anywhere that I missed?'

'I don't believe so, sir. Out there's pretty much a deadend. Only one door which will take you straight down to the boiler rooms but I can't see any reason your man would want down there.'

'Hmm,' Paul said again. He could think of a reason. A five foot four reason with long black hair. He pursed his lips. 'Thankyou,' he said to the steward. 'If you see the gentleman again could you inform him that his brother is searching for him?'

'Will do, sir,' and the man went back to staring at the wall opposite.

Paul however, crossed back to the doorway and took a left turn, retracing his steps to the end of the promenade, speaking quietly to himself as he walked. 'Now where was that door ...?'

All night she had been left to stare at that lone lightbulb. It dangled from the ceiling on a single wire, no lamp shade. No need for embellishments down here. Several times she had dozed off only to startle awake, her stomach churning in panic. But panic cannot be sustained and as the hours passed, no amount of struggling, pushing or shoving would force the door to give way and her body had seemed to shut down into a state of suspended animation. She had retreated to the back wall where she had slid to her heels and she had hovered there, head in hands, somewhere between denial and reality, her mind focussed with exquisite concentration on her craving for water.

It was in this position she had stayed until footsteps had creaked outside and something scraped against the door, only just audible over the constant rumble of the engines. Her head, though heavily thumping out a rhythm with her heart, had risen and it was with a certain irony that she actually felt pleased to see her captor.

That was half an hour ago. Now, revived and revitalised, she was on her feet, albeit a little shakily, demanding her immediate release while he hovered by the door and made excuses as to why he could not allow her to leave.

'Think of the trouble this would cause,' he said in his quiet Scottish accent. 'They'd lock me up.'

'As they should,' she retorted angrily. 'What sort of a man are you?'

He fixed her with a tearful stare. 'A desperate one,' he answered in a small voice.

Carla rolled her eyes at his tone, muttering the word 'pathetic' under her breath. She brought her hands to her hips, face the picture of contempt.

'Are you really this desperate though?' she asked. Her eyes, glittering like gems, narrowed as she glared at him, scornfully taking him in from the top of his head right down to the tips of his shoes. 'So desperate, that the only way you can get a woman is to knock her out and lock her up?'

'I didn't mean to -'

'You're not a man,' she said, shaking her head derisively. 'You don't deserve that title.'

'Hear me out, Carla,' he pleaded. She noticed suddenly that one of his eyes seemed to bulge larger than the other and for a second she stared, caught off guard. It only served to complete his unhinged look. 'Let me explain why I did this.'

'I know why you did it,' she told him. 'You're a control freak and you always have to have your own way.' He shook his head at her words. 'I didn't conform to your wishes willingly ...' She smiled somberly and spread her hands out before her, '...and so you took me anyway.'

'I was scared,' he said tearfully.

'Well I've got news for you, Tony,' she told him loudly. 'I'm scared now.'

The silence that fell between them was deafening. It pressed in on all sides as he stared at her and she glared right back.

'This is the story of my life,' he said. 'I lose my temper, do something rash and regret it later.'

'How d'you mean?' Carla asked, disdain dripping from her words. 'Who else do you have locked up?'

He shook his head and looked to the floor. 'Nobody.'

She read the word on his lips, rather than heard it.

'Then what else have you done?'

He hesitated, surveying her cautiously then with a dip of the head and a quiet sigh, seemed to decide she was worthy of whatever he had to say. 'The reason I'm travelling to America,' he said slowly, 'is to start a new life ... because ...'

'Because what?' Carla asked accusingly. Her eyes were narrowed in quiet fury.

'Because ...' he cast his gaze around the room and shifted uncomfortably, trying, unsuccessfully, to blink his tears away. '... I killed a man,' he mumbled. He pulled his eyes from the floor where they had landed and fixed them uncertainly on her. He waited for a reaction with trepidation. His heart had leapt suddenly to his mouth and for a few seconds he wondered if he might vomit. 'Accidently, of course,' he added quietly.

Her eyes widened slowly as she released a long hissing breath. Her fury fell away to be replaced with revulsion and alarm along with a growing disgust. Her brows almost disappeared under her hairline. Hands fell to her sides as she rocked back on her heels. 'Killed a man?' she repeated faintly.

He nodded almost imperceptibly, frightened-looking, glittery black eyes never leaving hers.

'How?'

'I didn't mean to,' Tony jumped to defend himself. 'It just ... ' his breathing hitched and he stopped to draw a long breath, releasing it in a heavy sigh. 'It just happened.' His whole body seemed to shrink an inch or two as his shoulders hunched forward. He dropped his face to his hands, resigning himself to some form of explanation. 'Short version?' he asked and went on without waiting for an answer. 'I was seeing this girl, had asked her to marry me. Not long before the wedding I found out she was cheating with some other bloke and when I found out I was ...' He stopped and drew another great shuddering breath. ' I was absolutely livid and so, like a bull to a red rag, I went after him and ...'

'And what?' Carla asked quietly, surprised to find her voice still working normally.

'I never meant to get in a scuffle but he was goading me about losing her ... and I shoved him, hard as I could. I only wanted him away from me. He hit the wall, smacked his head against it. Hard. Really hard.' His voice lowered until it was barely audible. His breath was coming in gasps. 'He was dead by the time he hit the floor.' Tony allowed his head to sink into his palms, his body convulsing as he sobbed openly. 'I still hear the sound ...'

Carla was silent a moment. She rocked back and forth on her heels, one hand on her hip, the other tracing the outline of her lips. The tip of her nose had turned pink, contrasting with the white of her face and without seeming to realise what she was doing, she moved her hand from her mouth and ran her fingers over the back of her own head, wincing a little at the resulting sting. 'Like you did to me,' she asked quietly.

He nodded, eyes glistening. He made a move as though to step towards her but she moved back and fixed him with a warning glare. He slumped back against the doorframe.

'Carla, when I saw what I'd done to you ... when you fell to the floor ...' His forehead was shaded with a heavy cloud, his lashes wet as tears streamed from his eyes. 'I thought you were dead.' His lips sealed together in an expression of unspeakable sadness.

She inhaled a deep breath into her lungs and reached around to pinch the bridge of her nose, eyes closed as she tried to understand. Tried to put herself in his shoes. 'Why didn't you get help?' she asked eventually. 'Why bring me here?'

'Because the police are still searching for me in England. My fiance - that is, ex-fiance - found her lovers body and alerted the authorities. It must have been pretty obvious it was me, especially as I did a disappearing act immediately after and since I've been confined on this ship, I've managed to heighten my paranoia to a whole new level. Everytime someone looks at me my heart flutters, when people speak to me I wonder what's really going through their heads.' He fixed her with a stare so piercing she thought it a wonder he could not simply see straight through her. 'Everybody is an undercover cop,' he said resolutely, desperate to make her understand. 'All this time I've just been waiting for someone to pounce.' He wiped at his cheeks with the back of his hand and pushed himself from the wall. 'Carla, You have no idea what it's been like. If I had gotten you help and was recognised ... found in the same circumstances ... they'd probably hang me.'

She squeezed her nose harder for a second, screwing her eyes up against the pressure, the tips of her fingers turning white. Then she let go, opened her eyes. 'It's no more than you'd deserve,' she whispered.

'That's why I can't let you go until we dock,' Tony said. 'It's not long now, only a few more days.' He spoke in the tone of a parent reassuring an unsettled child.

Carla allowed an incredulous laugh to escape her lips. She pressed the palm of a hand to her temple for a moment, hoping to ease the throbbing somewhat. 'A few more days?' she asked sarcastically, her normal temperament beginning to return. 'Is that all?'

Tony shifted uncomfortably.

'And what am I supposed to do for 'a few more days', hmm?' Her voice had risen to match the thrum of the engines. 'Sit tight and hope you don't accidently murder me?'

'Just go along with this and you'll be fine.' He held a pacifying hand out towards her. 'I know I've well and truly blown any chance I may have had with you -'

'You never had a chance.'

' - but just do this one thing for me, please. And I promise you, you'll never see me again.'

She licked her lips nervously, blinked several times in quick succession. 'Let me go ...,' she said slowly, '... and I won't tell anyone.' He shook his head. 'You have my word.'

When he spoke, his tone was gentle, full of sorrow. 'I can't trust that, I'm afraid.'

'Yes you can,' Carla said firmly. Her eyes gazed unwaveringly into his, wide and genuine. 'I'll not tell a soul.'

'No.' He slumped back against the wall, face crumpling. 'Please try to understand, Carla. It's too risky for me.'

'And keeping me down here is full proof, is it?' she asked. 'Tony ...' she took a deep breath and steeled herself, closed the gap between them in a few small steps, reaching out tentatively to touch his arm, both of which were crossed firmly over his chest. When she spoke her voice was gentle. 'If you loved me like you say you do, you'd let me go.'

'I do love you.'

She shook her head slowly from side to side, gazing up at him with eyes which glistened, reflecting the light from the lone bulb. She smiled a humourless smile. 'How can you when you're holding me prisoner?' she asked.

He lowered his eyes to the dainty little hand on his elbow. 'It's only for a few days,' he said softly. He uncrossed his arms and reached for her fingers.

She considered letting him take them but the thought of any sort of intimacy with this man quietly disgusted her and she pulled away, taking a step back. Her eyes hardened. 'I'll scream,' she said threateningly, all acts of tenderness forgotten. 'There must be hundreds of workers out there,' she raised a hand sharply and gestured beyond the door, looking back at him, eyes full of a fire they were vacant of seconds ago. 'Someone will hear.'

'Nobody will hear,' Tony told her. 'It's deafening out there, they have to shout to each other to be heard and there's a whole room between you and them.'

'Somebody will find me eventually,' she said obstinately. She hoped her voice sounded more confident than she felt. Did her best to force the rising tears back to their source.

'Only after we're in New York and I'm long gone.'

'Liam will search for me - '

'Connor?' Tony asked, eyes wide with amusement. 'Don't make me laugh, he doesn't care for you,' he said callously. 'I thought we'de already established that.'

'You're wrong.'

'He's probably sitting up there now,' he jabbed a thumb towards the ceiling. 'Eating his kippers, drinking expensive tea, probably wondering if he can afford a boat this size to take his beloved Maria sailing when they get home ... not a care in the world.'

'When I don't disembark in New York he'll come looking.' Her voice was starting to shake. Her throat felt constricted.

'He'll be too busy with his family and his new fancy woman to notice you. And in any case, I'll be long gone by then.' He smiled as pushed himself from the doorframe and took an advancing step towards her. 'No friends ... no family ... no roommates to alert the staff.' He grinned maliciously though wondered idly of the subtle irony of the situation. The control this woman had over him. Making him love her one minute and despise her the next. She was like nobody he had ever met before. 'Nobody will miss you, darling,' he whispered and her face crumpled.

It came then: in full heavy swing the torrent poured over her. The whole consciousness of her life lorn, love lost, hope quenched swayed full and mighty above her in one sullen mass. That bitter moment cannot be described. Her sorrow rose and she wept stormy, scalding, heart-wrung tears, all dignity swept to one side.

Tony watched as she dropped her head to her hands, entire body shaking with such violent sobs it seemed only inevitable that her legs would soon fail to hold her upright and she would crumple. Her convulsions provoked his own tears: he wept wildly but did not approach.

'I'm sorry,' he said. Over and over again as though he could never say it enough. 'I'm sorry.'

'I'm sorry too,' she managed between choking sobs. 'Sorry I ever boarded this damn ship ... sorry I was forced into living with a stranger ...' Her tone hardened, eyes narrowing. ' ...sorry I ever layed eyes on you,' And with an agility he never saw coming, she sprang and was on top of him before he had time to react. He let out a strangled yell as they toppled to the floor, trying desperately to get a hold of her wrists. She clawed angrily at his face, leaving bloody imprints from her nails and as he tried to get a grip on her fingers, slippery with blood, her fist slammed into the side of his face and she heard bone crack, his or hers she didn't know.

For a fraction of a second, they stared at each other, stunned into silence and then, releasing a panicked breath she hadn't even realised she'd been holding, Carla was on her feet, dashing for the door, silently thanking God that it had no lock.

She slammed it shut behind her and stood staring around the cargo hold, heart thrumming ten to the dozen, adrenaline the only thing keeping her on her feet. The noise of the engines was louder out here though not loud enough to hide the scraping of the door handle as it was thrusted down from the other side, the door flung open just as Carla spotted the only exit route at the opposite side of the room.

Tony dived for her, crashing through two suitcases and a priceless work of art as he grabbed at her ankle, bringing her down with a scream, knocking the air from her lungs. One hard kick, a cry of pain from behind, and her ankle was free. She was on her feet in under a second, gasping for breath, ignoring the pain in her side as she dodged an overly fancy car. She had once dreamt of owning a vehicle like this, long before reality had caught up with her. It was finished in red and polished to such a shine that Tony's reflection was clearly visible, hauling himself to his feet just behind her, an expression of absolute madness on his face. As she ran, she watched his arm raise above his head, something clutched in his hand, and threw herself to the right, landing on a pile of labelled luggage just as something small and metallic sailed past her head, hitting the wall opposite and thudding to the floor, leaving a large dent where it had made contact. She was on her feet once again, breathing loudly and raggedly, but Tony had gained on her while she was dodging makeshift missiles and with a guttural grunt, launched himself toward her, grabbing at the material of her dress from behind, clutching it tightly in his fist as she gave a yell and tugged hard, using her weight to free herself.

With a loud rip the fabric gave way and tore a hole right across her lower back. She lurched forwards as he was forced to let go but saved herself another fall with quick footing and wasted no time in running for the door.

'No you don't!' Tony roared over the thrumming of the engine and for a final time, launched his body through the air towards her, gaining a type of purchase of her loose flying hair and with a keening shriek from her, they once again toppled to the floor.

Tony knew he had won before he had even managed to clamber on top of her. He could almost feel the energy draining from her, as though someone had switched on a tap and with only three granola bars inside her, it was hardly a wonder. His earlier guilt over not visiting her sooner vanished as he found himself grateful for her weakness.

She was trying to sit up, trying to push him off, screaming with any energy she could muster, but he held her tight. Sitting on her thighs, pinning her hands to the floor with his knees and gripping her upper arms tightly as he took a moment to regain his breath, the widest of grins spreading across his damp, red face.

'Good try, sweetheart,' he said between gasps. 'But not good enough, I'm afraid.'

There was nothing she could do. Not that it stopped her trying. Hands, then arms, head and legs. Tugging and twisting and pulling until exhaustion got the better of her again. One last effort, one massive buck, back arched, a hiss escaping her clenched teeth and then she sank back to the floor. Silent and defeated. She closed her eyes so he wouldn't see the tears threatening to rise, heard him laugh with a callous relief, the pressure lessening on one arm and that's when something slammed into her temple, a blow so brutal she saw bright flashes of light even through her closed eyelids. And then she blacked out.

Far above him, the door opened. A tiny pin prick of light shone momentarily against the engulfing blackness and then it vanished as the door clicked back into place. He stood absolutely still, heart thumping loudly, daring not to even take a breath.

'Liam?' a voice called from far above and Liam's shoulders sagged. He released the breath and raised a hand, running his fingers through his messy hair. 'Liam, is that you?' He chose not to respond. Perhaps Paul could not yet see him. He remembered the blackness so absolute when he threw himself behind the door, eyes needing time to adjust. 'I'm coming down,' his brothers voice called and Liam heard the clunk of a shoe against iron. He drew a deep breath, trying not to clench his fists in vexation and raised his eyes to the ceiling. What had he done to have been cursed with so interfering a brother?

'Don't do that,' Liam said through gritted teeth. The footsteps stopped.

'I knew you'd be down there,' Paul said, something like triumph edging into his voice.

'Good for you,' Liam retorted.

'Yes ... that nice steward on D-deck told me he'd seen you and after I found out that this door leads down to the bottom of the ship it was pretty obvious where you'd gone.'

'Why can't you just keep your nose out, Paul?' Liam exclaimed. The footsteps had recommenced, moving closer and closer as Paul twisted round the spiral stairs.

'Because you're my little brother, it's my job to protect you.'

'Not because you're scared of what dad would say when he learnt you'd lost me?'

'Well ... I must admit, there was an element of that ... but I really don't want to see you hurt, Liam. Why can't you just leave the girl in peace?'

'Because I love her,' Liam stated. He started on down the stairs himself before Paul caught up to him and tried preventing him from taking another step. 'And ever since we saw Gordon smirking at us on the deck last night I've had the most horrible feeling that something's amiss.'

Paul rolled his eyes though the gesture was futile in such darkness. 'And what if we find her and she's okay, moved on.'

Liam hesitated before answering. The thought had occured. 'If that be the case than I'll return to first class and leave her be,' he said, although he wasn't entirely sure if he set eyes on her he'd have the strength to let go. Especially if she had fallen into Gordon's arms. 'And what's this 'we' business?' he asked his brother haughtily. 'You have nothing to do with this. You shouldn't even be here.'

'Neither should you,' Paul told him. Liam could tell from the proximity of the voice that he wasn't far behind. He quickened his own step. 'Anyway, we're in this together now. I'm not going back up there alone.'

Liam bit his tongue against a response, listening to the rumbling below growing louder and louder and just as he was thinking he must be getting close, the steps stopped and a door materialised some six feet infront.

'Any idea how we're going to slip past the workers unnoticed?' Paul asked.

'None whatsoever.'

'We don't know how big it is out there. Maybe we could keep to the shadows.'

'I think that's going to be our best bet,' Liam said. 'Plan B: we run.'

'Got it.'

'Ready?' Liam asked. He crossed to the door and took a hold of the handle. There was no lock. Paul followed on his heel. He peered over Liam's shoulder as he opened the door a crack but it was almost as dark in there as it was in the stairwell.

Liam turned and gave a shrug. 'Let's go,' he said with uncertainty.

He apprehensively eased himself through the door, opening it just enough to slip through and no more. Paul followed suit and both raised their hands to their ears. It was difficult to believe, standing next to the engines, that this racket was barely audible on the floors above.

There did not appear to be any company so far as Liam glanced around. The room they had entered was about the same size as their suite up on A-deck and with no light, was hard to see which direction they should be headed.

'C'mon,' Paul shouted, taking charge. 'Follow me.' He stepped around Liam and started to walk slowly around the perimeter of the room, screwing his face up and feeling every inch of the wall with his fingers until eventually he found a wooden slat protruding from it's smooth surface, closer examination of which proved it to be a doorframe. This door, once again, boasted no lock, just a metal handle wrapped in heat-proof plastic which was just as well, Paul thought as he gripped it. The plastic was hot but not uncomfortably so. Not nearly as uncomfortable as if the plastic hadn't have been there.

'I think this is it,' he called to his brother over the din.

Liam just nodded in response and gestured for him to get on with it. He pulled the door open a crack and a burst of heat all but singed the eyebrows from his face.

'Wow!' he exclaimed, taking a step back and almost trodding on Liam's toes. Steeling himself against the temperature, Liam bypassed his brother and was once again the first to cross the threshold.

This space, in comparison with the little black room they had just vacated, was massive. It just went on and on, further than the eye could see, each side lined with enormous furnaces contributing to the extreme heat, each one glowing a hot white light and unfortunately for the boys, each surrounded by a horde of workers shovelling coal into an open space down the bottom, fiddling with knobs, monitoring gauges. For a second, Paul and Liam stood and watched, perfectly illuminated by the bright, firey light. Then:

'Oi!' both turned in unison to the left where a hefty looking man, muscular but flabby around the middle was striding towards them. He was blackened from head to toe in soot but that did not disguise the look of displeasure on his face, hands thrown up in the air in clear animosity. 'What the bloody 'ell are passengers doin down 'ere?' he roared above the noise of the engines and of the workers. Some had already turned to stare, mainy surveying the men in suits with ill-disguised hostility.

Paul leant his head closer to Liam's, eyes never leaving the bulk of the man heading their way. 'What do we do?' he said as quiet as he could as to still be audible.

'Erm ... ' Liam swivelled his head to the side, wondering as to their chances of making it to the other end unscathed. 'Resort to plan B?' he asked.

'Go!' Paul yelled, pushing his little brother hard between the shoulder blades and they took off, running like they'd never ran before. One or two of the workers tried to stop them but most were happy to just stand and watch with amusement. Paul was reminded forcibly of the steward up on D-deck who had told him he prayed for excitement every morning to break the monotony of a long shift and realised he must not be the only one unhappy in his work.

Unaware if they were being pursued or not, Paul turned his head slightly to catch a glimpse behind him and ran straight into something large and solid. He gave a cry of shock as he bounced off the object but the whatever it was caught the front of his shirt before he could hit the floor. He got a quick glance of a tall man, muscular like the first but not as loose around the middle and then he heard a grunt and the thud of flesh meeting flesh and the grip was released.

Paul was back on his feet as quickly as he'd hit the ground, turning to see Liam standing over the worker, fist raised, looking stunned. The man was lying at his feet, writhing in pain, hands covering his nose which was spurting blood all down his front.

'Come on,' he said and he gripped Liam's arm and gave it a tug. The pair set off again though not so quickly, knowing now that they were not being pursued. Some employees did turn to stare as they jogged past but none approached. One even tipped his cap and flashed them a wide grin, showing white teeth, glaring brightly against his blackened face.

'That was brilliant,' Paul snorted. He looked sideways at his brother who looked as though he was trying not to laugh. 'Who knew you had it in you?'

'Do you remember what dad used to say to us when we were little?' Liam yelled, feeling oddly elated.

'Nobody messes with the Connor boys and comes off the better,' Paul said and they both laughed at the truth in the words spoken in jest. 'Any idea where we're going now?'

'Can't be much further,' Liam called. 'We must have ran the length of the ship already.

They passed by the last of the furnaces where a little man dressed in clothes which could never be worn above decks stopped to stare open-mouthed, his load of coal fell from the shovel but he didn't seem to realise as he tossed it in anyway.

Now they were descending into the gloom yet again though the darkness was not as black as that which they had left behind. The glowing from the fires saw to that.

'There!' Paul shouted as a staircase materialised up ahead. They made a dash for it, Liam reaching the bottom step first.

'What do you think's through there?' he called back to his brother, noticing another door just behind the stairs.

'Cargo hold, I think,' was the response he got.

Paul urged him on and they both climbed, twisting round and round until a door blocked their way. Liam thrust down the handle and pushed and both boys fell through into the light and airy cleanliness of G-deck. Paul mustered the energy to slam the door shut behind them while Liam sank to the floor, gasping for breath.

Paul joined him a second later, wheezing as he coughed soot from his lungs. He fixed his brother with a steely glare though the curling of his lips gave lie to any anger he tried to show. 'The things I do for you, Liam Connor ...'

When Carla surfaced back to consciousness, her face was throbbing and she could not see out her right eye. She lifted her head from her chest where it had dropped and blinked three times, squeezed her eyes shut and reopened them. Her muscles felt like stone. Tight. Brittle. Her arms hurt and when she tried to move she felt spasms shoot across her took her a moment to comprehend her hands were tied behind her back.

'I'm sorry I had to do that,' said a voice from behind.

She twisted her head around to see the face of her tormentor and immediately wished she hadn't as a bolt of pain screamed from the top of her skull, down through her shoulders. She tried not to wince.

'I couldn't see any other way, you see. Can't risk you running again.'

She turned again, slower this time. Tony Gordon was sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, knees raised infront of him. His eyes, trained on a point some three feet to her right, were puffy and red-rimmed as though he'd shed more than a few tears. His voice was thick with emotion. In any other circumstances she may have felt sorry for him. He didn't seem to be in the mood to chat and so she used the time to get her bearings.

She was sitting on a high-backed wooden chair, dark in colour and polished to a shine. It looked pricey, not something she'd expect to find in steerage. She wondered idly which passenger would be disembarking with one less piece of furniture. Her fingers groped behind her at wooden slats, feeling the rope he had used to tie her to the chair. It was wound around more than one of them, incorporating her slight wrists into the tricky knot, tied so tightly she felt sure she was already bruised. Her ankles were bound in much the same way to the chairs legs and no amount of kicking would free her. Useless. She was well and truly trussed.

A creaking behind her informed her that Tony was on his feet. She heard his footsteps as he crossed the room, heard him rummaging in the satchel he had dumped on the floor and tensed as he moved towards her, unable to see what he was up to with her bad eye. Something cold brushed against her face and she sucked a frightened breath in through clenched teeth. A sloshing sound, the smell of plastic. He placed a hand on her forehead and gently tilted it back, recieving a grunt and a withered stare for his efforts. Water flowed down her throat. It helped a bit, brought her back to herself somewhat but then she wondered if that might not be a bad thing. Perhaps to remain hovering somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness is the best place for her until he sees fit to release her.

He pulled the bottle away and stepped infront of her, gazing down with cantankerous eyes. She blinked again and shook her head a little, trying to clear her vision as she looked up at him, staring at the dried blood on his face. His blood, she realised with a feral sense of satisfaction as the memory of the scuffle returned. She had left her mark with her nails. A permanent reminder of me, she thought hopefully and, to his chagrin, allowed a smirk to creep across her lips.

'Hadn't we better get going?' Paul asked. He was still slouched on the floor of the corridor next to Liam. 'Mum and dad must be wondering where we are.'

'Let them wonder,' Liam replied. 'This is their fault anyway. If they weren't so bloody minded we wouldn't be in this position now.'

Paul puffed a breath of air from his lips. He couldn't argue with that.

'Have to admit though,' Liam went on. He turned to look at Paul, a smile on his lips, eyes sparkling. 'This has all been quite exciting.' Paul fixed him a sceptical stare. 'It beats posh breakfast with the snobs any day of the week.'

Paul couldn't help but laugh. Despite his reservations, he was starting to enjoy himself.

'Come on then,' Liam sighed as he pushed himself to his feet. He held a hand out to his brother but Paul was too busy staring at the space Liam had just vacated to take it.

'Erm ...' He glanced up at Liam then back to the wall, a faint smile playing on his lips. Liam followed his eyeline and allowed a snort of laughter as he saw his own sillhouette etched onto the white wall with black soot. Paul stood up of his own accord and turned to look at his own masterpiece.

'Well at least we've made our mark,' he said. He gave his face a rub but far from ridding it of soot, he merely smudged it making it, if anything, worse.

Liam snorted again as he watched and made a mental note, not to do the same to his own face.

'What you laughing at?' Paul asked.

'Nothing,' Liam chuckled 'Come on,' he said as Paul protested. 'Let's get out of here before someone catches us.' He had only taken a few steps when Paul's voice stopped him in his tracks.

'Look at this,' he said. He was still standing where Liam had left him but was gazing from one of the tiny portholes spaced evenly along the corridors wall.

'What is it?' he asked impatiently but he moved back to his brothers side all the same and peered from the neighbouring window. For a second, they both stood, watching the water lapping up against the great ships body mere feet below them.

'That's kind of creepy, don't you think?'

'Mmm,' Liam replied, finding the movement of the water strangely hypnotic.

'I wonder how cold it is.'

'Let's hope we never have to find out, eh?' He grabbed Paul's arm and pulled him away and together, they made their way along the corridor and up the stairs at the end to F-deck.

'I hope you know where we are,' Paul said as they emerged into yet another corridor of cabins.

'Course I do,' Liam told him confidently though he had no idea himself. It was not Carla's corridor, of that he was sure. 'We're on F-deck.' He flashed his brother a winning smile and was rewarded with an exasperated stare. 'She's cabin F-59, this one here's F-06 so we can't be close ... anyway, I think we're at the wrong end of the ship. When I came down from D-deck I'd walk the length of the promenade only to double back on myself once inside.'

'Well what we waiting for?' Paul asked, leading the way towards a door at the far end of the corridor. 'The sooner we find her the sooner I can have breakfast.'

They passed through the door, finding themselves in a large space, crowded with people who seemed to be waiting in some kind of queue.

'Carla told me third class eat at two different times because their dining hall isn't big enough to accomodate them all at once,' Liam whispered to Paul who looked affronted at the piece of information. Liam couldn't help but grin at the though of how his snobbish brother would fare with a life down in these parts. Not well would be his guess.

He did not need to remove his jacket as he had thought he would, the coal dust and soot from the boiler rooms made it easy for him and his brother to pass unnoticed given their decidedly less than first class appearance. Paul seemed embarassed to be seen the way he was but nobody batted an eyelid and Liam strode ahead, comfortable in the knowledge that they were safe. No one would ever guess.

They bypassed the dining hall only to find themselves in a second foyer at the other side, this one similiarly packed with crowds of hungry people waiting to be allowed access.

'Imagine waiting in this every morning,' Paul murmured as they passed by the long line of passengers and even Liam had to admit, it must be a pain.

The door at the far end took them to the exact place Liam was looking for. He grinned and punched the air in triumph as he saw the little steel door labelled F-59. He grasped his brother in a hug, squeezing him tight and planted a kiss on the side of his head.

'Gerrof!' Paul pushed him away though he was laughing too. Liam crossed to the door, heart in his mouth, and knocked rather sedately. He waited a moment before knocking again, a little harder this time. Still no answer. He was starting to deflate, after coming all this way, she wasn't even here. He abandoned all pretense and hammered on the door with his fist.

'Carla!' he called though the cabin lay silent. He rested his forehead against the steel and closed his eyes, wondering as to where else she might be. The obvious place would be the dining hall but she hadn't been amongst the queues of people waiting to get in which meant she had either already been admitted or wasn't there at all.

'Right,' he spoke calmly to Paul, trying to keep all thoughts rational. He ignored the fluttering in his stomach. 'We'll wait here a while and if she doesn't show up we'll check the promenade and the bow, I think she likes it out there.'

'Liam -'

'And if she's not there we might have to ask someone where else a person might go down here, I mean do they have reading rooms and libraries like we do?'

'Liam, look -'

'And if we still can't find her then we'll go after Gordon because he must know where she is ... what?'

Paul had tugged on his brothers arm to get his attention and when Liam looked, he gestured solemnly towards the floor. Liam followed his eyeline and stared at the patch of red seeping out from under the door. He looked up at his brother and back at the floor.

'Is that blood?' he asked faintly.

Paul shrugged his shoulders and Liam dropped to his knees to examine the stain closer up. He stared at it a moment then ran his fingers over it, pulling back to look at them.

'It is,' he said. He looked up at Paul, an expression of utter horror gripping his face. 'It's blood ... her blood ... what's he done to her, Paul?'

Paul shook his head slowly from side to side, surprised to find that he actually cared for the wellbeing of the young girl his brother had fallen for.

'What the hell has he done?'

Thankyou for reading :)