I am so, so sorry for taking so long to update. Call it a combination of manic kitchen renovations closely followed by a bronchitis style cold, ick. I don't recommend.

Reviews then…

Guest of honor: LOL, thanks, glad you think the story lines here are better than the show's!

Amber: Ooooh… intriguing re Simon. I'm kinda wishing the summer would hurry up and go so that we find out what will happen next!

dreamer: *g* Well, I didn't set out to write a babyfic so who knows!

sammy: Lots of different info about Simon! What to believe…?

Loveistheprotection: Christine's response coming right up! I hope you enjoy it!

Paisley: Yeah, but the mean is so much fun to write. Like doing Snape in 'Harry Potter'.

Guest: Now do you *really* expect me to tell you? (re Christine getting pregnant)

Jessiekat: Connor's response coming up!

Fliss: Re Hector and Sue: I think Hector kissed Sue to make her realise she wasn't immune to him either, as a way to get her to lay off Nikki. As for whether anything will come of it, who knows? I do have a theory though that the events of the last couple of episodes heavily foreshadow what's coming, so… I wouldn't rule it out.

privateschooler: Sorry, I ditched the full stop because FFN seems to think you're a website and deletes your name! Writing Christine and Sue together is great fun; Sue may find she's not going to get it all her own way after all, Simon or no Simon!

Secretperson: LOL, thanks. I think…

gemma: I haven't forgotten the tranquillisers. Must find a way to work them in!

Sue Spark: LOL!

faith: Yeah, I'm torn with Sue. Sometimes I really do feel for her and sometimes (most of the time) I want to strangle/slap her. And watch out for Kacey!

msn: Sue deserves to get into trouble!

chantelucy: Well, there is more Kacey coming, but not right away, I'm afraid.


Miss Spark's room, 10.40am


'What happened?' Christine Mulgrew's tone was neither kind nor unkind, but her tone was that of authority which expected to be answered, and Sue was too upset to resent or gainsay it.

Eventually she was able to stammer, 'They just… they went crazy, they wouldn't listen to anything, especially the Year 10s. The Year 11s weren't as bad, or not until that Lula started stirring.'

Christine gave her a long look.

'Lula, hmm? That doesn't sound like her. She's passionate and easily angered, but she's too desperate for an education to deliberately cause trouble. What set her off?'

Sue sniffled and sobbed and gasped as she tried to remember. What had set Lula off? She'd been so busy trying to marshal the class as a whole into some kind of order to pay attention to any pupil in particular, and her shoulders shook as she realised she couldn't answer Christine's question.

'Here,' the older woman said briskly, pressing a wad of tissues into her hand. 'Use them. I'm trying to help you, you know. We haven't got off on the right foot with everything that's happened, but at the end of the day, I appointed you. If you're floundering, that makes you my problem.'

Sue blew her nose hard, the sound reverberating around the lab, and raised watery blue eyes to Christine.

'Even—even though you're not H-head anymore?'

Christine's smile was grim. 'It doesn't switch off as easily as that. Sit,' she added, gesturing towards the bench. 'Tell me what happened. Don't leave anything out because I assure you, I'll be speaking to Kacey and giving my form a stern talking-to. I'm sure they were involved but… they weren't on the receiving end of that tirade of yours when I came in, were they?'

A tide of heat raced up Sue's cheeks and she dropped her eyes. Christine's sigh was loud in the quiet room.

'Sue, the kids … they can be challenging, I'm not denying that. Believe it or not, I've done my share of crying in the loos after a lesson that's gone disastrously wrong, and anyone who says they haven't is lying—or made of stone. But they're kids, and the kids here… you must never forget that Waterloo Road is the closest thing to a safe, secure environment that many of them have. They've put their trust in us and we need to honour it, do you understand? We're the grown ups, we need to act like it.'

'They wouldn't be quiet,' Sue said in a tearful rush. 'All I wanted them to do was sit quietly and do their worksheets, how hard was that to understand? But they kept yelling and when I told them off they said it was all Simon's fault with that—that bloody no-hands thing… and then a gang of Year 10s started messing around and Lisa knocked Lenny off his stool. By the time I'd sorted them there was some kind of row going on between Lula and Darren, and Harley and Kacey got involved and—and I don't know what happened! I just—I just lost it!'

Christine's eyebrows went up. 'And in the process said some … pretty unpleasant things they're going to find difficult to forgive.' She paused, her lips pursed. 'You need to apologise if you want to make this right.'

'Me?' The word flew out of Sue's mouth before she'd time to consider, all her natural pride revolting. 'But I'm a teacher! I shouldn't have to apologise to them!'

'No?'

'No!' Sue's cheeks scalded again at the mere thought.

'Hmmm. OK.' Christine pushed herself to her feet and Sue eyed her warily. 'Fine. As I said, you're the grown up. You're a role model for these kids, whether you realise it or not, and if you want them to think it's OK to look down on people because of their nationality or class—'

'I never said that!'

'Didn't you?'

All at once, Sue's dislike for Christine came flooding back, overwhelming nascent gratitude. The woman was standing there pontificating as if she was better than everyone else when the entire school knew just how far from the truth that was.

She lifted her chin. 'You misunderstood.'

Christine's gaze hardened. 'Oh, did I? I think you'll find the kids also … misunderstood. I'm telling you, Sue, I won't let this drop. You're clearly having difficulties, and as you're on probation some would say that's the school's fault for not providing enough support. You're a science teacher, you know as well as I do that anything that combusts, sparks or explodes needs to be closely supervised, it's just too dangerous for everyone if you're really struggling and you're trying to do an experiment, for example.'

She held up a finger when Sue tried to protest. 'Ah-ah. I haven't finished. Here's the deal: you apologise to those kids and present yourself to Simon Lowsley and Tom Clarkson with the full story and a request for support and training or I'll be encouraging Kacey to make a formal complaint—with my support—directly to the Board of Governors. If it comes to that, I'll weigh in with my suspicions about your father's machinations regarding the Headship. You're not the only one with connections.'

Sue stiffened. 'Is that a threat?'

Christine's smile was almost pitying. 'No. It's a promise.' She leaned in close, causing Sue to rear back, her nose pre-emptively twitching against the alcoholic fumes she half-expected to encounter, and the older woman gave a brief laugh that held no humour. 'You can't help being insulting, can you? Never mind. Just a word of warning before I go: you have until the end of today—four, to be precise. I'll be speaking to Mr Clarkson then and if I haven't heard… well. Let's just say you may regret the day you took me on, Miss Spark.'

Her heels clipped loudly on the floor as she left, and Sue twisted the hankies she still held until they ripped into fragments. She'd no doubt that Christine Mulgrew was more than capable of carrying out her threat—no, her promise—and if that happened her dad would never forgive her. There was a limit to what even he would agree to conceal and she'd pushed the boundaries enough as it was. And as for Simon…. She shuddered. This new Simon was so eager to appease Christine that she didn't think she could count on his support either. Not for the first time, Sue began to wish she'd never heard of Waterloo Road.


Mrs Mulgrew's room, 11.40am


Connor's heart sank as he glanced from the English A'level marking scheme to his wife's mock exam, and noted that she had hit point after point with unerring accuracy. He didn't need to see Imogen's frown as she wrestled with his own paper to know that he hadn't done anywhere near as well, and he sent his mother a look that was anything but filial. What had possessed her to set them to marking each other's papers like this?

'Here,' Imogen said, sliding his paper under his arm. She looked nervous and he understood why when he saw the letter encircled next to his name.

'You gave us an E!' He'd known it was bad, but not that bad. 'You've done it wrong, you must've. Do it again.'

His wife was looking annoyed. 'If you must know, I was trying to be nice. I bet your mum or any other teacher would knock off even more, and you know what? You'd deserve it. Didn't you do any revision?'

'You know I did!'

'I know you said you did, but I didn't stand over your shoulder, did I?'

Connor glanced across the table, automatically seeking sympathy from Kevin, an exchange of rolled eyes that expressed their mutual incomprehension of women. But Kevin wasn't paying attention, he was too busy grinning at something Louisa had said as she went through his paper, and rage boiled through Connor as he caught her knowing smile.

'What're you staring at?' he barked. 'What're you doin' here anyway, why aren't you sitting with, oh, let's see, Rhiannon or Jack or Ryan?'

'Connor!' Imogen protested as Louisa's eyes went wide. She poked him in the side, her finger so stiff that it hurt, and leaned over to hiss in his ear, 'Pack it in. Louisa's helping me today, remember?'

'You don't need her, I can help!'

'Yeah? When you can't even remember the alphabet? God knows I've shown you enough times, but you're never interested, are you?'

'I signed at our wedding, didn't I?'

'Yeah, once, for a special occasion. Big deal!'

His mother appeared between them. 'There's a lot of noise coming from this corner. Is there something I should know about?'

They both talked at once.

'It's not me, it's her—'

'He's bein' a pillock!'

'Enough!' The bell rang and his mother gave them her dirtiest look before turning to dismiss the class, her hand going to jerk Connor back into his seat when he tried to move. 'Not you, or you, Imogen. I want a word.'

Connor glowered at his wife, thinking of the precious moments of free time that would be lost while his mother told them what she thought of them. He wouldn't be surprised if she sent them to the cooler, and then he'd be screwed out of the time in the library he desperately needed for that history coursework.

Once the door had closed behind the last stragglers—Kevin and Louisa in this case—his mother started in.

'If you two ever start a disagreement like that in my class again you'll find yourselves in detention for so long you'll forget what free time looks like, do you understand me? I don't care whether you're my son and daughter-in-law or not, you keep your marital spats for outside lesson hours. That's the adult thing to do and you're supposed to be adults now, remember?'

Connor grunted a response while Imogen apologised. She was always better at smoothing things over than he was; even as he watched, the tense line of his mother's shoulders relaxed and she gave a brief nod.

'Fine, you can go—and count yourselves lucky I'm not sending you to the cooler!'

'We'll make it up to you later,' Imogen promised, glancing towards him and Connor took the hint and nodded—but when he went to follow her out, his mother called him back.

He turned reluctantly. 'If this is about the exam—'

'It's not.'

He waited for her to explain, and when nothing came he prompted, impatiently, 'What is it? I've gotta do some research to get McFall off my case.'

She sat down in the seat Imogen had vacated and indicated his own. 'Sit with me a minute, son. Come on, relax. You're not in trouble, I promise.'

Connor obeyed, alarm bells ringing in his mind. 'What's wrong? Why're you doin' this, shouldn't you be teaching?'

Her smile was wry. 'My timetable still hasn't returned to what it was before I was Head, and I know you're free this lesson. You don't need that research for this afternoon, do you?'

He shook his head. 'It's not due for a fortnight but you know Audrey … Mum, spit it out. You're worrying me!'

'OK.' He watched as she took a deep breath. 'OK … Connor, you like Tom, don't you? You like him being part of our lives?'

He stared. ''Course I do, you know that. Not that it matters, as long as you're happy.' He paused. 'You are happy? He hasn't done somethin'—'

'No. No! Tom's … he's great, Connor. Sometimes I look at him and I can't believe that he really wants to be with me, you know? After everything…'

'Hey, he's lucky too,' he interrupted, forgetting his earlier annoyance in the automatic need to reassure his mother. 'You're amazin', Mum, not everyone could do what you've done.' He looked at her curiously, a smile starting to tug at his mouth. 'What's this about, you two getting married or something?'

'Would you mind if we did?'

He shrugged. 'Course not, Tom's sound. Are you?'

She licked her lips and the alarm bells ringing in his mind grew louder. 'No. No … we, er, we just thought we'd like to try for a baby.'

The words tumbled out so quickly that it took a moment for Connor to process them into auditory shapes that made sense. When they did, his jaw dropped.

'You—you—what?'

'I know, I know!' His mother raised a finger, as if forestalling a protest from him. 'You're think we're crazy. You think we're too old. You think we haven't been together long enough—'

'Mum, shut up!'

She stopped so abruptly that he might have laughed at any other time, but her eyes were wide and she was nibbling at her fingernail. His heart missed a beat as he saw that this wasn't some ill-conceived joke, some wind-up—she genuinely wanted this. If she and Tom had a child together it would be loved and wanted from the moment of its conception on.

The realisation was like a kick in the stomach, knocking the breath out of his body and driving all rational thought from his mind.

'Connor?' His mum put a hand on his arm and gave it a shake. 'Connor, say something!'

'That's great, Mum,' he heard himself say. 'So long as you're happy, that's the main thing.'

The hurt within him twisted on itself when her smile turned radiantly wide; the smile that he'd seen so rarely in his eighteen years.

'Oh, Connor.' She pushed to her feet and pulled him close, his forehead resting on her shoulder. 'Thanks, son.'

The entity that seemed to have taken over his body pulled his lips into a grin as he drew away. 'Aw, Mum, don't get soppy on us now!'

She gave a short laugh and dashed quickly at her eyes; 'soppy', it seemed, had been the operative word. 'OK. OK, I'll get a grip, I promise, I just… Thanks, Connor. Really. You don't know what this means.'

'I… yeah. Can we do this later?' He pointed to the door. 'Audrey's research?'

'Of course. Can't have you getting in trouble with Audrey, can we! Go on, son, I'll see you at home.'

Somehow his feet carried him to the door, his hand reaching out to it when his mum called, 'Connor?'

He turned, that rictus grin still in place.

She hadn't noticed. She was so overwhelmed with joy that he'd given the OK on this kid with Tom that she hadn't even noticed he was acting. His mum, who was such a proficient actress herself that she could spot it in others a mile off…

'Yeah?'

'I love you. You know that, don't you?'

All he could manage was a nod before he making good his escape, through the door and down the stairs. The stunned shell that had insulated his mum from his true reaction was starting to fracture as hurt began to bubble into anger threaded with doubt and fear.

Wasn't he good enough? After all they'd been through?

What if she had a kid and Tom didn't stick around?

What if she started drinking again?

He couldn't stand by and watch his mum's alcoholism destroy another kid's childhood as it had destroyed his. He and Imogen would need to take the kid, they'd have no choice, and good-bye to all their plans to put his past behind them and live their own lives—

His emotions burst out of him in a strangled roar as he hurled his bag down the corridor, turning blindly to kick the nearest kickable thing: the door to the cooler. It flew open, banging hard against the wall, and revealing Darren Hughes doing his best village idiot impression.

But Darren was not alone. Mr Lowsley was staring at Connor, an unreadable expression in his dark eyes.

'Darren, get back to class,' the new Head ordered. When Darren obeyed, he turned back to Connor. 'As for you, mate, I think we need to have a chat, don't you?'


Cooler, 12.15pm


If Simon had expected Connor Mulgrew to head for a chair he was disappointed. The younger man shoved past him to lean against the wall before slowly sliding down it, his fingers threading through his short black hair.

Simon was disconcerted. 'Er, wouldn't you be more comfortable over here?'

There was no reply. After mentally humming and hawing for several moments, he went to sit next to Connor on the floor.

'Hey,' he said softly. 'What's up? Want to talk about it?'

'Not to you,' came in muffled tones, and Simon winced. He deserved that.

He sighed and rested his head against the beige-painted wall, and wondered what to say. There were serious bridges to be built here, and this was a golden opportunity—but first he had to get past Connor's instinctive (and perfectly understandable) mistrust.

There was a way. He knew it; he'd always known it. He'd known it all through those nights he'd lain awake next to Sue, guilt searing his blood. If only he'd kept his trap shut. If only he hadn't walked straight into Sue's trap, comprised of a hellish mixture of her own fears and insecurities.

'I get it,' he blurted before common sense and professional standards could exercise their brake over his tongue. 'About your mum.'

'Yeah, right.' Connor lifted his head. 'You're gonna tell me some sob story about some stupid row you had—'

'My mum was an alcoholic too,' Simon interrupted before he lost his nerve. 'She… she died six months ago. I'd just got back from leave when Michael Byrne resigned.'

Connor's eyes were like circles. He swallowed; Simon could see how his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

'Was it … cirrhosis?'

All of Simon's muscles relaxed and now it was his turn to swallow convulsively as he tried to get his emotions under control.

'Cancer.'

There was a pause before Connor asked, 'Did she never try to get clean?'

Simon gave a bitter laugh. 'Yeah, sure. Three times that I can remember. The last one was five years ago, after my dad died. She tried then for a while but then… bam! She fell off the wagon and never got back on. Was a slippery slope after that.' Out of the corner of his eye he could see Connor flinch, and he understood. God, how he understood. 'Hope your mum's stronger than mine.'

'Me too.' Connor was picking at the sleeve hem of his cardigan. 'Was that why—?'

'I was such a berk last term? Yeah. I, I can't apologise enough, Connor. When I found out about your mum it was like she'd turned into mine, you know? And I found myself taking out my anger against my mum on yours.'

Hostility flickered in Connor's gaze. 'You're bloody lucky she didn't go back to the bottle, thanks to you.'

'She's no pushover,' Simon agreed, remembering how unflinching Christine Mulgrew had been the day she sent him from Waterloo Road, and they shared an awkward grin of mutual understanding. 'How's—how's she finding this?' He gestured expansively, taking in the entire classroom and what lay beyond.

Connor shrugged. 'Like I'd tell you. If you want to know, ask her yourself.' He was still picking at his sleeve hem, pulling at threads of wool. 'What made you change?'

Simon eyed him warily, wondering how much to divulge, how much was appropriate to divulge… before he remembered who Connor was. Chances were the boy had grown up learning where and when to keep it shut. 'Your mum sending me packing was a wake-up call. I didn't like what I turning into, so I decided to get help. Talk it through, you know?'

Connor nodded.

Encouraged by his silence, Simon continued. 'I went to a self-help group, for relatives of addicts. All addictions, not just alcohol. That's where I met Sue—Miss Spark.' Now that he'd started, Simon found he couldn't stop, appropriateness be damned. 'She was there because of her sister, Louisa's mum.'

'Louisa? Louisa Fox?'

Simon caught himself with a mental Shit, but it was too late. He couldn't leave it at that, he'd already said too much. 'Yeah. Forgot she was in your form.'

'Louisa's Miss Spark's niece? And you're engaged to her, that's what Dynasty says.'

Simon decided to brazen it out. It was common knowledge in the staffroom anyway. 'Yeah.'

Connor studied him for a long moment before clambering to his feet. 'Do us a favour, sir. Tell her to lay off my mum, right? Or… I'm sure Mum'll be interested in what you've said.'

Simon turned cold inside. Louisa's mum was the proverbial skeleton in the closet in the Spark-Bain family, and he was certain that Louisa remained ignorant of the truth. Once Connor started talking it would start to spread, juicy gossip like this always did…

He got to his feet. 'Are you trying to blackmail me, Mr Mulgrew?'

The boy seemed sardonically amused. 'No more than you did last term … Mr Lowsley. Don't worry, sir, I won't say anything.' A bell rang. 'Can I go? My bag's still out there.'

Simon's jaw was clenched too tight to allow him to speak at that moment, but he followed the younger man into the corridor, watching him gather his things and shove them into his satchel. It was a reminder of the start of this episode.

'You never did say what'd got you in such a state.'

Connor glanced back at him over his shoulder as he swung the bag into its proper place. 'It was nothin', sir. Just exams. I let it get on top of me.'

'If you need any help revising—'

He did not miss the roll of Connor's eyes as he turned. 'Sir, you don't need to try buttering us up. I said, didn't I? I won't say anything. I'm used to keepin' secrets.' He hesitated, his head jerking towards the stairs. 'Can I—?'

Simon nodded and Connor left, taking the short flight of stairs two at time, and a line indented between the Head's brows. There was definitely something going on there. Perhaps a word with Tom Clarkson was in order? If Connor's issues could be sorted he had a feeling they'd all sleep much sounder at night.


I don't know that I'm too happy with the second half but ... over to you! Did you expect that? ox