Sybil drives to Yorkshire through the night on Christmas Eve, able to take advantage of the clear roads and unusually swift journey time. The long drive offers her an opportunity for quiet contemplation – about Emma, her family, her job and of course Tom. In the six and a half weeks since he left her bed and dismissed any notion of a possible relationship with her, she has spent a great deal of time reflecting on the disappointing outcome and bitterly regrets the way in which she first responded to his rejection.

As part of her instinctive efforts to build a wall of self-defence, she expressed herself cruelly and her accusations were poorly judged. 'Disappointed' – it was probably the most inappropriate word she could have ever used, after hearing how he has spent his entire life dealing with his mother's disillusionment and knowing now how it has affected every other relationship during his life. And 'I thought you were stronger…' was equally unnecessary, bearing in mind the strength he has shown in shouldering the burden of Emma's investigation without any effective assistance from other members of his family. In a desperate effort to conceal the extent of her distress that morning, she succeeded only in reiterating his low feelings of self-worth and pushing him further away.

Tonight, she tries not to dwell on their sexual experience. She has frequently recalled the way he held and caressed her whilst remaining simultaneously inside her, his tongue softly stroking hers as it explored her mouth, his fingers gently teasing her breast. At the time, his actions had seemed to provide a declaration of promise and his subsequent denial of what had taken place only further emphasises her loss.

To begin with she didn't believe his painful dismissal of the experience and was certain that his feelings equalled hers. She was adamant that he cared for her and only shied away from a commitment because of a desire to focus solely on Emma's disappearance. Subsequently she has reflected further on his fractured relationship with his mother and the subsequent effect it must have had in his dealings with other people, particularly with other women. 'You don't want to get into a relationship with me, Sybil' he had said wearily and she hopes that he's trying only to protect her in some way, rather than making her face the unwelcome truth that he specifically doesn't want to be with her.

As the weeks passed, his communication remained formal and in writing and she began to cast doubt on the strength of her own beliefs, wondering if she had misread his signals - the curious sideway glances, their increasingly tactile behaviour with one another, his frequent appearances at her flat. It's been easier, in some ways, to reply in a more positive manner when all of their contact has been in a written form. He has no idea about the way she wrestles with each email, re-reading and editing it until the tone is suitably objective and cheerful. He cannot accuse her of any querulous behaviour in the light of what took place and she hopes that it has been sufficient to avoid driving him further away.

Finally they met again last week and she'd vowed to respond fittingly, not putting any pressure on him but reassessing his reaction towards her. If he had appeared aloof or in any way disinterested, she would have accepted his decision to simply remain friends without any further attempts to dissuade otherwise. Yet once again there is now a certainty in her mind that she is not mistaken; that his reasons for their estrangement are connected to other factors and do not relate directly to his feelings towards her. An intense stare which had been quickly curtailed as she met it head on, his obvious delight that she's following his articles on-line, their mutual understanding at the dilemma concerning Emma's case being potentially unresolved – all of these led her to believe that she has a reason not to give up. Her subtle attempt at questioning 'At what point do you think we have to make the decision to carry on with our lives again?' had at least not resulted in resolute rejection. There was no attempt at promise or declaration, but she had walked away with the belief that she can retain at least an element of hope. In time he might understand that desire and passion can be successfully entwined with friendship and support and that ultimately he deserves to be rewarded with them all.

ooOoo

She arrives at Downton shortly after 2am and lovingly chastises her mother for having stayed up to greet her. They chat briefly about nothing of consequence while Sybil begins to relax after over four hours at the wheel and drinks a welcoming mug of steaming hot chocolate. Going upstairs wearily to her room, she can't help but smile indulgently at the sight of a bulging stocking at the foot of her bed. She's woken shortly after nine by both sisters, who knock tentatively on her door and on hearing muffled signs of life, enter with unbridled enthusiasm and then clamber into bed on either side of her, a lifelong tradition on Christmas morning while they open their stockings.

The day passes in a flurry of activity and contentment and Sybil is delighted to spend time with everyone. This year they are joined by their paternal grandmother, Mary's fiancé Matthew and his widowed mother, Isobel and there are plenty of strong personalities within the party to provide amusement and competition in equal measure. With a morning visit to church, a neighbour's drinks party, their late and convivial family dinner and then the traditional exchange of presents, it's early evening before Sybil has an opportunity to go to her room for a short while and finally open her present from Tom. She has packed it in her suitcase, but had no desire to add it to the pile of gifts under the tree, wanting to keep their friendship away from the curious eyes of her family and to ensure that her emotions remain hidden. She's bought him a book on the history of the German car industry, which she found in a delightful niche bookshop on Charing Cross Road and a fountain pen, after he'd mentioned in an email that he'd lost his during his recent visit to Glasgow.

She adores the print he's given her and immediately deliberates as to where exactly to hang it in her living room. Holding the card which accompanied it, she can't help but analyse his message, although she knows deep down that it's a futile exercise. Does the kiss after his name mean anything, or is it simply another example of its ubiquitous use amongst anyone with whom one is only casually acquainted? Did he only think of her when he first saw the print, or does that mean she is regularly in his thoughts? Is this simply a way in which to thank her for her assistance in Emma's case, or is it a declaration of feelings which extend beyond friendship? She's sceptical of his declared intention to spend Christmas with unnamed friends and is fearful that he's spent the day alone, dwelling on his isolation and brooding over the fractured relationships with members of his family. However, it was clear by the firm way in which he delivered the explanation of his plans that he did not want to be challenged and she had avoided further questioning in order not to antagonise him.

Impulsively she sends him a text, emboldened by lunchtime drinks and a fine selection of accompanying wines during dinner. Love my picture, thank you so much! Hope you've had a good day. Happy Christmas – Sybil xx The second kiss is deliberate and she wonders how its implication will be perceived. There's still time to freshen up before she is missed downstairs but as before she reaches the door to her en-suite bathroom, her phone beeps and she eagerly reaches for it.

On page 96 of my book already and the pen is perfect. I promise not to lose this one! Thank you and Happy Christmas. Tom xx

Her heart begins to beat more rapidly, although she's worried about how he's managed to find time to read so dedicatedly when he's supposedly spending the day amongst company. The temptation to reply immediately is overwhelming, it would be easy to correspond all evening and try to orchestrate a meeting when she returns to London, but she realises in time that her imagination is running wild and that her efforts could equally be abruptly spurned. Instead she reluctantly leaves the phone on her bed, makes her way into the bathroom and begins preparations for the festive evening ahead.

ooOoo

The following morning, she's tidying away the breakfast dishes for her mother when Mary enters the kitchen and offers a beaming smile.

"Can I have you to myself for a couple of hours this morning and take you over to the Abbey so I can bore you with my wedding preparations?"

Sybil grins at her sister. "I do know the building inside out and backwards, you know! You can just tell me all about your plans from here, I don't need to mingle with the throngs of visitors. Although no, of course you won't bore me, I can't wait to hear more about it all!"

"Aha!" declares Mary, fishing a set of keys out of her pocket and waving them triumphantly in the air. "It's still closed to the public today so we can play at being daughters of the Earl in residence!" Sybil rolls her eyes and Mary pulls a face in response. "Come on, humour me!"

"What about Edith?" Sybil enquires, but Mary shakes her head.

"I just want a bit of time on my own with my favourite sister…"

"Mary…" Sybil warns. She would never offer such deliberate favouritism towards either of her siblings, regardless of their childhood history. She loves them both equally and is able to weigh up their merits and faults without partiality.

"Honestly, she's fine. She's taught Isobel how to play Angry Birds on her iPad and it's getting quite competitive. Believe me, you don't want to disturb them."

"And Matthew?"

"Reading the book you bought him on our bed. He's just waved me off quite dismissively, I doubt he'll surface before lunchtime."

"Is Granny coming over this morning?" Sybil can't bear the thought that anybody might feel in any way excluded by their absence, but Mary assures her that their grandmother will arrive in time for lunch, while their parents are planning to take the family dog for a walk and make the most of the crisp, clear morning.

So the two sisters put on their boots and enjoy a stroll through the village and up the long, sweeping drive to their former ancestral home, pausing as they always do to enjoy its majestic view as the imposing towers appear to twinkle in the sunlight.

Sybil adopts an American accent and mimics their mother. "All those rooms would be such a pain in the ass to dust."

Mary deepens her voice in an attempt to provide a recognisable impression of their father. "And the windows a bugger to keep clean!" and they giggle simultaneously in affection at their parents' frequent and audible relief at being spared the burden of responsibility for the estate.

Mary swiftly punches in the code for the alarm after unlocking the door before firmly shutting it behind them. She marches into the cavernous hallway, giving her sister a devious grin before holding out her arms and shouting "One day when my cunning plan succeeds, all this will be rightfully MINE!" and concluding with a villainous laugh that would be at home in any Hollywood film. Sybil begins to chuckle and Mary joins in, before providing an exaggerated pout, stamping her foot and declaring "It's just not fair!" The pair saunter around the ground floor while Mary points out her plans for the wedding ceremony and reception, asking her sister's opinion on seating plans and floral decorations before they find themselves in the library, Sybil's favourite room in the entire building. The impressive collection of books that their now deceased relatives had built up remains intact – their grandfather had removed only a few personal favourites before the sale – and Sybil has spent many a contented hour over the years pouring over its contents.

She sits comfortably on a nearby chaise-lounge and watches with curiosity as Mary walks over to the vast fireplace and rings a little bell which sits on top of the mantelpiece.

"What are you doing?" Sybil asks with a smile, stopping abruptly as her sister places a finger to her lips.

"Shhhh….can you hear that?" she asks and Sybil shakes her head in bewilderment.

"It's the ghost of butlers past!" Mary laughs, cocking her head to one side with a grin. "I thought we might rouse them, being Christmas and all that…maybe they would bring us tea and scones or something."

"But alas, no!" Sybil replies, continuing to be amused by her sister's wistful antics.

Mary sits down with an exaggerated sigh. "Ah well, we'll have to make do with sharing this carton of apple juice then" and she pulls one out of her bag, punching through the straw and offering her sister a first taste.

"So how's things with you?" she asks after Sybil hands the carton back.

Sybil shrugs her shoulders in a nonchalant manner. "You know…much the same. Work's been very busy so that's taken my mind of it all a bit. It's all just so sad really, I'm not sure that she'll ever be found."

"Do you think she's still alive?" Mary asks the question gently, not wanting to cause any additional distress.

"I don't know, it remains possible. It's also very probable that she isn't. The not knowing either way is fairly agonising."

"Have the police got anything else still to follow up?"

"No, not unless any new evidence comes to light. They're planning another press conference in the New Year to try and get the case back into the spotlight again."

"And what about Tom? You haven't mentioned him for a while."

Sybil avoids eye contact deliberately, shaking her head and scratching at a non-existent itch on her leg.

"I haven't seen much of him recently, that's why. There's not been much for us to discuss."

"Has something happened between the two of you?"

There's a pause while Sybil gathers her thoughts, but as she looks up into her sister's concerned but knowing gaze, she realises that any deliberate dishonesty is futile. Mary tips her head and offers a compassionate smile while Sybil begins to provide an edited version of what has taken place.

"Well he certainly sounds very complicated, Sybil."

She knows that Mary is not being directly critical in her assessment, but feels instinctively defensive nonetheless. Tom's confidences to her and a sense of overriding loyalty means that she has withheld much of the detail about his parents' marriage, only briefly alluding to their divorce, his father's death and the siblings' separation from one another. "He's had a lot to contend with in his life. Both in his childhood and also in the last few months."

"You don't say!"

"I think he's trying to protect me, in fact I'm positive that's what he's doing."

"And if you were wrong?"

"Then I'd walk away, I really would. I'm not a narcissist, I wouldn't hang around for someone who has no interest in me whatsoever."

"Well I hope he's worth it. All that built up insecurity and self-loathing - he won't be an easy man to be with."

Sybil smiles shyly. "I think he is worth it. His good qualities far outshine his problems. He's kind and loyal, protective and thoughtful, he makes me laugh a lot despite all the stress he's been under. We've got a similar sense of humour, the same overall outlook about life even if we might approach it in different ways." She pauses and looks away in contemplation. "Anyway, I'm….oh, I don't know how to explain it."

"You're in love with him." Mary responds in such a matter-of-fact manner that Sybil is momentarily thrown by the statement. Her mind goes blank and she gradually becomes aware that her mouth is open in what her grandmother would consider a most ungainly manner.

"I don't think I'm in love with him, no…not yet." She shakes her head in order to reorder her thoughts. "But I probably would be pretty quickly if he would give us a chance. I'm infatuated with him, that's for sure. Besotted maybe." She gives her sister a quick grin. "Does that satisfy you?"

"Well I certainly haven't seen you quite this love sick since Elliott Pheby kissed Katie Borton at your Year 11 prom."

Sybil makes a face. "Ugh, well she was so horrid and bitchy. I couldn't believe he fancied her!"

"Are you still upset about it, nine years later?" Mary arches an eyebrow, matched with an amused smile, watching as her sister laughs lightly and shakes her head.

"I think I'm over it now."

Mary readjusts her position on the sofa and carefully crosses her legs, before clearing her throat. "I could tell there was something between you and Tom quite early on."

"Yes, I know. You said as much some time ago. I think I was in denial at the time. It felt as if Emma should be our main priority at that point and that it was somehow wrong to cross the invisible line."

"And you think he still believes that?"

Sybil gives an exasperated sigh. "Yes. But now it's been over three months and I just don't know how long we are supposed to keep our lives on hold." She scratches the arm of the sofa as she struggles to express herself in an adequate fashion. "I don't want to sound uncaring or lacking in sympathy or anything. I mean, obviously she's his sister and the whole thing is more emotionally distressing for him than for me who had only known her for a few months. But the fact is that they didn't see much of one another and I know he regrets that, but it's as if he wants to punish himself."

Mary sighs and rolls her eyes in clear frustration. "He's allowed to be happy. It wouldn't deflect from how much he cares about Emma and is still committed to helping find her."

"Exactly!" Sybil balls up her fist and drops it down hard on the edge of the sofa in order to emphasise her agreement before her sister continues.

"For argument's sake, let's say that he had seen a bit more of Emma before she disappeared, and you and he were already an item as a result. Would he have dumped you because he had to focus solely on the investigation?"

Sybil has never contemplated this scenario and shrugs her shoulders.

"Of course he wouldn't!" Mary continues. "He'd have accepted your support and been grateful for it, I should imagine. The idea that one isn't allowed to have a relationship while a crisis occurs is ludicrous! All sorts of terrible things happen to people and often it's having the support of a partner which helps them get through it."

"You're right" Sybil agrees and can't help but be amused by Mary's confident nod of response.

"I know. He's just using it as an excuse, in my opinion. He's scared of entering a relationship with you because he's worried that it might not work out and so he's using his sister's disappearance to justify his decision."

Sybil gnaws on her lower lip and begins to scratch on the sofa arm once again as she considers Tom's possible opposing viewpoint. "Well perhaps he'd just prefer to be sure that he keeps me as a friend, rather than risk losing that if the relationship went wrong."

"Well then he shouldn't have gone to bed with you, should he? He's already crossed the line Sybil, you're never going to be able to remain 'just friends' in the long term. Not when you clearly both have feelings for one another. It's going to go one way or another in time. Either you get together or you're going to part entirely, it's inevitable. Anyway, we all have to take risks when we enter a relationship. Nobody ever wants to get hurt, but the prospect of potential happiness makes it worth the gamble."

"I can't bear the thought of losing him completely." Sybil replies, feeling instantly miserable at the possibility.

"Then you have to tell him how you feel." Mary replies authoritatively and Sybil places her hands over her eyes in frustration.

"But I have, Mary! I already did and he walked away."

Her sister offers a look mixed with pity and affection, before replying in a gentler tone. "That was the morning after the night before, darling. Both of you were in a heightened state of emotion at the time, not to mention horribly hungover. And from what you've told me, ever since then you've both been pussyfooting around one another, making sure that you say nothing of consequence and avoiding any mention of the situation."

"But what if he pushes me away again, Mary?"

"Then he's a fool." Sybil gives a weak smile and her sister meets it with an expression of empathy. "But if you stay silent, then you're going to carry on feeling utterly miserable, so surely it's worth taking a chance?"

Sybil wishes that she shares her sister's fundamental confidence in the outcome, but knows that ultimately Mary's assessment is correct.

ooOoo

She returns to London later that evening but after heartfelt farewells with her family, makes a brief pre-arranged diversion to Ripon in order to visit Gwen who is staying with her family over the festive period. There is a warm welcome from Gwen's parents who have known her since the two girls started secondary school together and who usher Sybil into their living room, appreciating that she and their daughter will want to make the most of the short time they have together.

"So I've just got tomorrow here and then I'm back to Dublin the following day." Gwen explains after the two have warmly embraced and each enquired about their respective Christmas experiences.

"Back to Joe?" Sybil asks smiling and her friend replies with a broad grin.

"Yeah. I did think about coming down to London for New Year, but then you said you'd volunteered to work anyway, so I thought I'd go back and spend it with him."

"How are you going to be able to leave him behind when you finish there, Gwen? Oh…!" Sybil curtails her teasing questioning as a sudden notion crosses her mind. "…are you not coming back?"

"Yes I am, I have to. I won't have a job in Dublin after February, but I will have one in London." Gwen nods with a serious expression. "But I do need to talk to you about what's going to happen. You know, with the flat?"

Sybil rubs her forehead in contemplation. "Oh God, of course."

"I mean, I thought the case would be resolved one way or another by the time I finished my year." Gwen pauses awkwardly and looks at Sybil in earnest.

"Yes well we all did. Um..."

"I mean, there's still two months to go." Gwen continues hurriedly. "So hopefully it still might be. I've got a week's leave afterwards, but I'm due back in the London office on March 7th."

"I'll have to talk to Tom about what to do with her things."

"If you would prefer me to find somewhere else, I'll understand."

"No, no…of course not. It's your flat, Gwen! I mean, we found it together, of course you have to move back in, I want you to! And if she comes back, then presumably she'd have to go back to Dublin anyway. Tom said that your company is still paying her salary each month – he's got power of attorney and arranges for half the rent to be paid. Are they holding her job open?"

Gwen nods. "As far as I know, yes. I don't know how far in the future that will stretch, but certainly for the time being."

"Well he'll have to make the decision whether to keep her things in London or send them back to Dublin, I guess." Sybil notices Gwen fidgeting awkwardly in her seat and places her hand on her friend's knee. "Are you OK with coming back into the same flat after what's happened? I mean, would you would prefer us to find somewhere else?"

"No, it's not that, Syb. It's just that I want to be upfront with you. I'm not planning on staying for long."

"Oh…right." She hadn't anticipated this outcome, but it quickly makes sense. "Because of Joe?"

"He's asked me to stay on in Dublin, but I don't want to do that without a job. You know my career's important to me and I'm not going to give it up at this point in my life. I've put some feelers out but there's nothing available at the moment. So I'm coming back, but I will be looking to move back to Dublin when the right thing comes up. " She scrunches up her face in apology. "Sorry, Syb."

Her stomach is lurching with disappointment, but she doesn't want to deflect from her friend's personal happiness and squeezes her hand warmly. "Don't be silly, that's wonderful! I'm really happy for you. So presumably I might actually meet him at last?"

"He'll be coming to visit me, yes. And I'll go over there. We've both got good jobs, we can each afford to fly over once a month. But when I said earlier that I'd understand if you want me to move elsewhere, I meant it. If it's easier for you to find a long term flatmate now, rather than later?"

Sybil leans forward and gives Gwen a sincere hug of gratitude mixed with affection. "Of course not. I want you to come back, for however long or short a period it might be."

"It might take months until I find something. You might end up thinking that you'll never be rid of me!"

"I doubt that very much."

"I'll miss you though. I have really missed you while I've been in Dublin."

"Same here. But we knew when we took the flat that it wouldn't be forever."

Gwen nods and smiles at her best friend. "Life moves on."

"Of course and so do we."

ooOoo

She returns home after work two days later to an email from Tom. The warmer tone of his Christmas text has disappeared, replaced instead by his previous formal manner. There are neither kisses after his name, nor enquiries about her festive break, but he concludes by mentioning that he has finished the book she bought him and enjoyed it.

Dawn Pulliver is putting plans into place for a New Year press conference about Emma's case, hoping to reignite the investigation and to encourage the provision of new information. Her budget is under pressure without new leads and there's a strong possibility that officers will shortly be re-assigned to other, more pressing enquiries. Consequently this second press conference will take place in London, rather than Dublin. Tom's bland explanation that 'my mother has decided not to fly over and take part' masks what Sybil understands is his personal disillusionment at Margaret's behaviour and her own attitude is shrouded with feelings of anger and injustice.

Dawn has enquired whether Sybil is prepared to be involved instead. She's been honest enough to point out that her status as the daughter of an Earl is likely to once again grasp the attention of the public and explains that she would like to emphasise the issue, despite Sybil's general rejection of her title. The request is emotionally charged for Sybil and represents all that she has spent her adult life attempting to deflect. However, she feels compelled to assist in whatever way she can and wants to offer support to Tom, particularly after his mother's habitual rejection of any responsibility towards her daughter's plight.

Arrangements need to be made within the next few days and Tom politely suggests that Sybil discusses the matter with her family, on whom an impact will also be felt. She certainly intends to offer them this courtesy but knows that fundamentally they will have no objection. Her parents and sisters have repeatedly stressed their desire to support Sybil in any way they can and her mother awkwardly confessed over Christmas that the National Trust is delighted with the increase in visitor numbers to the Abbey, as a result of publicity relating to Emma's disappearance.

Sybil waits until the next day before composing her reply to Tom, once again giving her phrasing careful consideration, but making it clear that she has no opposition to taking part. Her conversation with Mary remains at the forefront of her mind and although she in part feels that it may be inappropriate to use her involvement in the press conference for her own advantage, she is also anxious for an opportunity to speak to Tom alone. She remains unconvinced that ultimately he will provide the outcome she desperately desires, but remains in agreement with her sister that they cannot continue as they are. Even the thought of another rejection makes her stomach clench with anxiety, but she is resolute in her decision to tell him how she feels and is resigned to accept whichever consequences result.

She agrees to all of Dawn's requests and asks that Tom stops by at her flat after the press conference has taken place. She proposes a meal and mentions that she would like an opportunity to discuss the eventualities relating to the end of both Gwen and Emma's internships. Not wanting to invite him under entirely devious circumstances, she concludes by explaining that she would like to 'catch up' and to her relief, mixed however with unavoidable fear, he agrees.