She realised she had no choice, so with a quick nod of the head and a prayer that none of the girls were hanging over the bannister as usual, she invited him in. All she needed was news of a male evening visitor to catch like wildfire so he was ushered into her office. Particularly this one.

Fred was still perched on her hip as she walked to her own chair, gesturing for him to sit down. A very brief glance at the clock told her that she wouldn't have much time on her hands before Peter, or indeed Isobel, came back so she needed to get this over and done with as soon as. How she wished she could just ignore the door some days. Chummy sat, bolt upright and with Fred now deciding he wanted to slump back onto her chest, she left him be. She could tell her son was giving this visitor the evil eye and, even though it was entirely uncharitable, she was inclined entirely to agree with him.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" he started, taking off a pair of black leather driving gloves. "Such a while, you'd agree….?"

"You said that before Philip" Chummy responded sharply. She really didn't need to entertain her friend's husband on her doorstep, not tonight, nor any night and particularly not with what she knew.

Philip cleared his throat, realizing he was on a sticky wicket already. "One won't take up much of your time. I believe my wife is here".

Chummy hesitated; wondering if he was playing games, taking chances that she was here and bluffing with her to make her reveal all. "What makes you say that?" she asked, hoping her face would not betray her.

"Chummy, I know she is here", he responded. "Mary, that loose mouthed housekeeper. She told me Issy had gone off to the seaside for a few days, but…." He paused. "Whenever I tended to propose a trip to the seaside, she always came with me but with a face like a wet weekend so my suspicions were aroused. I never knew she had been writing to you all this time. The housekeeper had been fishing your letters out of the post for months for my wife before I saw it. God knows why. One doesn't object to Issy having friends. So, I put two and two together and for once in my miserable life concluded that they added up to four".

The Sister nodded. He certainly knew Isobel was here. She could see something on his face that she had never seen before and for a moment she actually felt a scrap of sympathy for him. It only lasted a brief second though.

"Philip, your marriage is your marriage. Belle came here because she needed someone to listen to her. She hasn't left you", Chummy replied.

"But she's damn bloody close to it….am I right?" Philip responded, failing to keep his voice at a level that was respectable.

"Don't use expletives in front of my son" Chummy replied sharply putting her hand over Fred's ear.

"Sorry" Philip replied, needing to vent his frustrations on someone although he had never intended it to be Chummy. He held both hands up. "Apologies to you young man". In truth, until that second, he had simply not connected the blonde haired boy back to Chummy and assumed he was a resident. Freddie just kept looking out of the corner of his eye, endlessly chewing one of his mother's cardigan buttons.

"I realized long ago that I never really knew her" Philip continued. " I know all of Daniel Ferguson and his illicit liaisons with my wife. I know she will tell you I cannot control my temper around her…" Chummy was about to say something when he raised his palm to stop her. "She…..she does things, says things that tick me off. I cannot talk to her as I believe a husband should be able to talk to their wife and it annoys me".

"Did she tell you about Daniel?" Chummy asked, entirely surprised he was being quite this open. Still, he had rather a lot to protect.

"In a round about way" Philip replied, it not registering that he was clearly not the only one to know.

Chummy bit the bullet. "Did you know he had been arrested?"

"Yes" her companion responded with a heavy sigh. "Word gets around awfully quickly in our circle if it wants to. You know that yourself. I know he was arrested, know what for and I also know he used my name. I firmly believe it was part of a plan". He wondered if Chummy knew about George Bolton particularly as the husband was a police officer if he remembered rightly. Who knows what had been said behind closed doors?

"A plan?" Chummy asked.

Philip nodded. "Philip Harbottle would be a wanted man when he didn't appear before the Magistrates. The police would be looking everywhere for him….and they would find me but not me and he and Isobel would slide off into the sunset with my money". Most of it ill-gotten money but all the same. It was all clean money, just obtained from rather dirty business. "It all seems very obvious to me".

Behind her Chummy heard a car, the headlights illuminating her office realizing her husband had been right all along. "That will be Peter". Accompanied by Isobel no doubt and she was sure that the monumental confrontation that she was expecting was moments away.

"One didn't come here to fight or for this sad situation to descend into something from an appalling radio drama" Philip said as she stood up. "I simply wish to talk to my wife properly".

Chummy nodded, that errant scrap of sympathy rearing its head again. "Take Freddie for a moment".

With the boy placed in his arms and looking up at this new person curiously, Philip remained in his seat. There were three voices, clearly, in the hallway and one was definitely his wife even though they were talking in whispers. His feet took him to the door immediately, a hand not wanting to twist the brass doorknob, but it did it all the same. It was Peter who was the first to notice him; if only for Freddie screeching 'Daddy!' and wriggling to get out of the strangers arms. His wife only having a moment to relay a half story, paused, reading the look on her husband's face, although really not knowing what to do about it.

"Hello son" Peter said as the boy was handed over, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Been a good boy today?"

"He has..." Chummy replied automatically, before realizing there were more pressing things to hand. She could see Isobel staring at the floor and feeling Philip's presence behind her.

"Chummy do you think my wife and I could usurp you of your office?" Philip asked.

She shot a look to Isobel . "Belle?"

The other woman nodded. "Yes. One thinks that would be a good idea. An inevitable idea".

"Well, use the treatment room" Chummy suggested. "There is little chance of you being interrupted by one of the girls". Isobel stepped forward, Chummy gently squeezing her arm as she stopped by her side. "Peter and I will be in the office". With that, and showing them the way, Chummy closed the treatment room door on them. Peter and Freddie were still standing in the hallway and without a word – as there wasn't really much to say - followed mother and wife into her room.

They sat, both with ears wide open to any scrap of noise from the other room. "So what happened?" Chummy asked, Freddie having gone back to chewing her button.

"Not much", Peter responded. "She doesn't know a great deal about it. She made a statement about those letters, managed to incriminate Ferguson without realizing it…"

"Oh?"

"Giving false information to the police" he clarified.

"Oh", Chummy replied flatly.

Philip was a key to so very much more and with the fact that Ferguson was likely to be re-arrested as soon as his colleagues could get his hands on him, everything seemed to be falling into place."But the Inspector wants Harbottle" Peter responded, knowing full well that the opportunity had simply just arrived and presented itself to him.

"Oh…." Her voice was even more subdued as she knew what was coming next.

"Yes, oh…" Peter replied, looking over to the adjoining door. "And he's in the room next door to me. A police officer".

"Then you have to do what you have to do". Chummy knew her husband; knew that when it came to his job, he went by the letter of the law at every turn and there was no point arguing too much with him. She knew what he would be doing before he had even said it. "Do you think though…?" she started but stopped immediately.

"Do I think what?" Peter asked as Freddie reached out to him, deciding he wanted a cuddle off Daddy again. With her son off her knee, she had the chance to move and turned her seat to face him.
"Do you think you could ask him if he would go to the station? Not under duress?" She was thinking of the girls and Isobel, in that order. "I know you don't think much of him, Peter and neither do I…but it will bad enough for….." Peter caused her words to dry up as he took her hand.

"I will ask him to accompany me to the Station. If he becomes difficult, I'll arrest him them and only then" he replied, wanting to reassure her and receiving a kiss on the cheek in thanks.

He was interrupted in returning the kiss by the sound of a yell and smashing glass.