What can I say? I'm really, honestly sorry about the way the posting for this has gone off-track. The plan was that I'd go on holiday and come back to a house that was more or less ready to move into–thus allowing an almost immediate return to my usual routine—but that hasn't happened. We came back to what was practically a building site, so the past couple of weeks have been crazy. However, the end really is in sight now so hopefully normal service will resume by mid-November if not before. In the meantime I'll post when I can, but don't worry if there's a delay. This has not been abandoned, it's planned all the way through to the last chapter!

In the meantime of course, WR's back. What do you think? Looking forward to seeing the Sue/Hector/Simon thing pan out—and its implications for Christine, bemused as to what George is playing at (don't believe for a minute he's actually gone, Angus is in the last cast shoot photo) and absolutely detesting the abominable Vaughan. If ever there was a time for Christine to get manipulative…!

And reviews…

Sophie: Well timed! Here you go, enjoy.

Lori: Thanks for the support and gentle reminders to keep going!

Loveistheprotection: I'm so flattered Tom/Christine has become your OTP! They're sorta mine too although the more I think about George/Christine… although I couldn't imagine writing a story like this for them.

Paisley: More on Darren and Co. coming up. What did you think of Darren's new storylines in 9c/10a?

chantelucy: *g* Big Kacey storyline coming up soon!

Mrs Mulgrew's room, 1.45pm

The sound of the bell ringing for the beginning of afternoon school jolted Christine out of the fog of her lunch hour, the fog she'd been in since Tom turned his back on her smile and wave through the glass of her classroom window. It had been a struggle to finish the lesson calmly when her tummy was performing wild somersaults and her skin turning distractingly hot and cold. Fortunately she'd been free the last lesson before lunch and had tried to seek Tom then, but he'd been teaching. The impact of the loss of the headship had hit her with the force of a proverbial ton of bricks when it was her turn to stand and watch him through a window; without the authority of the Head behind her she couldn't simply walk in and interrupt the lesson. Besides, she hadn't dared; not with the suspicion that Sue had let something slip after all.

Only when lunch had well and truly started did she attempt to contact him in earnest, but her efforts were wasted. He'd managed to be everywhere she was not, on his way out just as she arrived… they'd passed each other in the staffroom door with little more than a mumble from Tom, and Christine could not bear to stay. Not in the face of Maggie's openly concerned gaze and Sue's slightly less open gloat. She'd muttered some excuse about marking and returned blindly to her classroom…

And now somehow registration was over and she'd failed in her responsibilities as a form tutor, she realised with a guilty start. Where were the kids? Her lips tightened as she pushed herself to her feet and started the routine of dispensing copies of Romeo and Juliet. They'd better show for their English lesson or she'd make their lives hell; it wasn't as if they were so ahead of themselves that they could afford to lose any time, not with deadlines looming for coursework drafts.

The books handed out, she stood alone in the middle of her classroom and stared fixedly at the door, willing her missing form to appear. The clock was loud in the corner, so loud it made her nerves jumpy and she closed her eyes against a wave of profound longing for the comforting oblivion granted by vodka. Her fingers began to drum an old rhythm on one of the desks. It didn't help.

And still there was no sign of 10M.

A glance at the clock confirmed they were more than five minutes late for English, and frustrated anger surged through Christine, warming her blood and lending her the energy to sweep between the desks and through the door, turning left at the stairs with some idea of going to Sonya. A reflexive glance through the cooler window as she passed made her jolt to a stop, a tiny muscle jumping in her jaw as she entered.

'So,' she began, starting a mental roll as her gaze swept across row after row of her absent form, 'would anyone like to tell me what I'm missing? Besides yourselves, of course?'

They straightened, their expressions tightening into injured innocence.

'Well?' she prodded when there was no response. 'There better be a reason for this!'

'Didn't McFall tell you?' Lisa volunteered.

Christine skewered her with a glare. 'Miss McFall. No.' All at once she was unsure; Audrey had tried to speak with her in the corridor during her frantic flight back to her classroom, she remembered, but she'd assumed it was Audrey being Audrey and brushed her off…

She dropped into the teacher's chair with a suppressed groan and folded her arms. 'Enlighten me, Lisa. What happened with Miss McFall?'

'It wasn't us, it were her!' Shaznay shouted indignantly. 'Some—some skank wrote stuff on Kacey Barry's photo, dead wrong stuff, and McFall said it was us!'

'Yeah, even when we said it wasn't!' Lisa added. 'Darren's a perv, but 'e's an honest perv, like!'

Christine's eyebrows shot up. 'Right. Darren, again. What do you have to say?'

The boy glowered beaneath sullenly heavy lids. 'It weren't me. I were honest, miss, I told McFall that I agreed with them things on Kacey's photo, but it weren't me.'

Christine deliberately brushed her hair behind her ears and blew out an exasperated sigh. 'Fine. Let's take a step back, shall we? Why was Miss McFall so sure you were responsible, Mr Hughes?'

''Cos 'e's got a bad rep with the teachers, innit.' Shaznay again. 'That's dead wrong, miss. That ain't fair.'

'Darren?' Christine prompted, her tone sharpening. 'Did you have the opportunity to deface Kacey's photo?'

The sullen look grew heavier. 'S'pose so. Was at the back, weren't I? An' I was bored, McFall's dead borin' most of the time. I was leanin' against the wall and me fingers were fidgetin' with whatever were there. You know what I'm like, miss!' His tone was aggrieved and Christine couldn't help but nod; she did know what he was like, the boy was an inveterate fidgeter who was utterly incapable of sitting still.

A characteristic she knew Audrey couldn't stand. The knowledge caused a rush of sympathy; it was all too easy for kids like Darren to take the rap for crimes they hadn't committed.

'OK,' she sighed. 'And you swear you had nothing to with it? That you're telling the truth now?' Her gaze bored into Darren's and she held it, knowing that if he was lying he'd be the first to look away. As Lisa had said, he was usually honest—if pushed enough.

'I promise.' Darren shifted, his lip curling. 'Wouldn't waste me tine on that freak anyway.'

'That's enough,' Christine chided, pushing her chair back. 'If that's what you said, no wonder Miss McFall's convinced you're guilty! Not doing yourself any favours there, eh?' Darren grumbled something incomprehensible and his form teacher shook her head. 'And if I hear you use that word about anyone again—'

'Oh, you found them,' Audrey said, and Christine turned to see the History teacher shepherd a plainly reluctant Kacey into the room. 'I hope Darren's ready to apologise.'

Christine shot the other teacher an unfriendly look, all too aware of how her form had stiffened at the older woman's entry. 'With all due respect, I don't think this is the time or place.'

Now it was Audrey who stiffened visibly, her thin shoulders turning rigid as she lifted her chin. 'Not the time or place? Forgive me, Mrs Mulgrew, but I think this is exactly the time and place. Kacey here has been grossly—grossly!—insulted for all the world to see. At the very least she's owed a public apology!'

'My form insist they're innocent,' Christine said gently, hoping to defuse the situation. 'And I believe them.'

Audrey gaped. 'What?' She gathered herself. 'That's absurd, clearly you haven't heard the full story—'

Christine's patience snapped. She was exhausted, her head was pounding, she was anxious beyond belief, the man she loved was sitting somewhere in this very building thinking… well, she hated to contemplate what he was thinking… and she absolutely positively did not need this. She thumped her palms on the desk and pushed herself to her feet. 'I said, I believe them.'

'But—but—'

Christine circled the desk to face her friend. 'Shall we take this outside, Miss McFall?' She spoke as if she was still Head, emphasising the other woman's title. Perhaps it'd jerk her to her senses, she thought grimly.

'Just drop it, will yous?' Kacey burst out. 'I tried to tell yer, miss, I don't want a fuss!'

'Now, Kacey dear—'

Kacey shook herself free of Audrey's hand as the bell rang for the start of the last lesson of the day. 'You never listen, do yer? It don't matter who did it, I don't need no apology 'cos they're right! I'm everything they called me, yous don't need to make it worse by rubbin' it in, so just… leave us alone!' She cast a haunted look around the room. 'It's all I want. Ain't much to ask, is it?'

She spun out of the room heedless of the door slamming behind her, and Christine and Audrey stared after her, too stunned to react.

'See, she's lost it, miss,' Shaznay said into the hush. 'Needs to be locked up, she does.'

Christine whirled on her. 'Detention for you for the rest of the week!'

'But miiiss—'

'And the rest of you, if you don't get out of my sight—right—now!'

They didn't need to be told twice, filing past Christine and Audrey in an offended silence that might have amused their form teacher at any other time. Not now, however, not when she felt as if she was hanging on to the whole personal-professional situation by the very tips of her fingernails.

'Christine, what—' Audrey tried as soon as they were alone, but Christine cut her off with an abrupt gesture.

'There isn't time for this,' she said harshly. 'You've done it again. Are you ever gonna learn?'

The older woman reared back, her face slack from shock. 'But—'

Guilt stabbed through Christine. It wasn't all Audrey's fault; it wasn't fair to take it out on her. She moistened her lips, trying to summon a placating smile.

'Just… just get to your class. I'll, I'll sort out Kacey.'

'Christine, it's not your job any more.'

It was gently said, but Christine closed her eyes against the truth of it, the corners of her mouth twitching.

'It doesn't matter what it says on that sign on the door,' she admitted at last. 'It doesn't matter what I tell myself. Head or not, the kids, this school, they're still mine. Inside, where it counts. So go to your class, Audrey. One way or another, I'll sort Kacey.'

And I think I know where she's gone, Christine thought bleakly as Audrey departed. To Dynasty… who's with Tom.

Mr Clarkson's room, 2.30pm

'Less chat and more work,' Tom ordered curtly, briefly lifting his eyes. The coil inside tightened when he saw Imogen and Connor exchange a look. 'A problem with that, Mr and Mrs Mulgrew?'

Imogen refused to meet his gaze, her dark head bending forward over her work. Connor, however, studied Tom with a care the older man decided he did not like.

'You got something for me?' he barked. 'You should, you're running out of extensions.'

'No, sir,' Connor said quietly, pale skin reddening as followed his wife's example—but not before shooting another of those glances. Tom clenched his jaw so tightly the muscles ached.

Did Connor know, was that it? Had Christine told him first?

His mouth opened, angry accusations ready to spill forth, when Christine herself appeared at the door.

'Mrs Mulgrew,' Tom said between his teeth. 'How may I help?'

'I'm looking for Kacey Barry,' she said with the same careful formality he'd used.

'This is a Year 12 class.' Tom couldn't keep the edge out of his voice. 'I appreciate you're... distracted... at the moment but unless she's suddenly jumped a year without my knowledge—'

It felt good to say it, to lay undue emphasis on the last three words. There were too many secrets, weren't there?

She flinched, one hand reaching to brush a stray lock behind her ear. Even from several metres away he could see how it trembled. 'She hasn't come looking for Dynasty—?'

He gestured towards the young woman in question. 'Do you see her there? Unless of course Dynasty's hiding her… without my knowledge.'

The atmosphere in the class shifted; Tom knew that they'd sensed the subtext and wondered at it. Connor's gaze narrowed and his lips tightened in a manner that enhanced his resemblance to his mother. As for Dynasty, she'd twisted to look at Christine.

'Miss? What's this about our Kace?'

Christine shifted. 'There was an—incident—in Miss McFall's class this morning.'

Dynasty's brow furrowed. 'But Kace doesn't do History.'

Christine moistened her lips. 'No, but she is in Miss McFall's tutor group—'

'What 'appened?'

'We'll tell you later,' Christine said hurriedly, glancing towards Tom. He looked away. 'She's… upset, but we'll look after her, don't worry.'

'Yes, I'm sure Mrs Mulgrew has the situation under control,' Tom snapped, ignoring how Dynasty's eyes widened. 'Mrs Mulgrew, if that's all—?'

'Of course.' Christine's response tumbled out. 'I'm sorry for interrupting, Mr Clarkson.' A pause, followed by a second, much softer, 'I'm sorry,'—and she was gone, leaving Tom feeling like a helpless fly caught in a web… uncertain whether the spider was Christine or the tangled weight of his own emotions.

'What'd you have to talk to her like that for?' Connor exploded. 'Couldn't you see she's not well?'

The question was like spark to tinder for Tom, sending professionalism and common sense out the window.

'Yeah, and we know the reason for that, don't we? Food poisoning, hah!'

'What's got into yer, sir?' Dynasty demanded. 'What's goin' on?'

'Never you mind.' He was curt once again. 'This is personal.' He didn't add and its none of your business, but he could see from Dynasty's sniff and tossed head that she'd heard it in his tone. At least it kept her quiet.

No such luck with Christine's daughter-in-law, who leaned forward from her place in the front row where her desk adjoined his to say 'Hey, get a grip. This is a lesson, remember?'

Tom's eyes narrowed. 'Yeah, easy for you to say. You haven't been lied to, I'll bet—'

'Mum hasn't lied, she just… she just probably hasn't told you everything and I don't blame her, the way you're behaving!' Connor interrupted. He was his feet, his stance combative, and Tom found himself instinctively mirroring his position.

'So it's true?' he barked. 'She's pregnant and you know all about it—which means that Imogen and Dynasty and Kevin probably know as well. None of you think of tellin' me? You know, the dad? Or were you just gonna wait until it's born?'

The entire class gave a concerted gasp that was almost a squeak and the sound returned Tom to himself, his horrified gaze taking in the looks of dawning glee on most of the students' faces—and Connor's rigid jaw.

'Actually, I don't know any more than you do,' the younger man spat. 'Not for certain, we just put a few clues together 'cos you were tryin', weren't you, or was it just more mind games? Hasn't my mum been through enough without that?'

Tom swallowed hard, confusion and embarrassment curdling his brain. 'I—'

'I don't wanna know!' Connor turned to his wife. 'Come on, Im. I can't stick bein' in this room a second longer.'

'Shit.' Tom subsided into his chair as part of his towering rage fragmented into ashes. This was turning into a nightmare. 'Connor, Imogen—'

'Let 'em go, sir,' Dynasty advised, getting to her feet. Before Tom could protest, she added: 'And the rest of yous, get. Clear off, go to the library or sommat. 'S'only quarter of an hour before the bell anyroad.'

A single dissenting voice rose above the resulting rustles and bangs.

'Mr Clarkson?' Tom struggled to focus on the speaker, a blond girl. 'Mr Clarkson, do we have to do what she says?'

He blinked and memory returned. The questioner was Louisa Fox. Naturally. He managed a nod.

'Yeah… she's Head Girl, she's in charge. Go. Just… go!' The last word was practically bellowed and Year 12 almost fell over themselves in their hurry to leave the room.

It was a relief to be alone. He clasped his head in his hands and tried to get his thoughts and feelings into some sort of order when a soft Scouse voice said, 'Tom?'

'I thought you'd gone,' he said gruffly, not looking up. 'What're you doin' here anyway, I suppose you're on her side.'

'I am,' Dynasty said quietly. 'An' yours too, sir. Don't be too hasty, eh? I don't know what's goin' on, but I know this for a fact. Christine loves you. Do you love 'er?'

His throat closed and he couldn't answer.

'Talk to 'er, eh? Don't go jumpin' to conclusions. Whatever's happened, I know it hasn't been done to hurt you. Like I said, Christine loves you.'

He had to get rid of her. He faked a semblance of his usual smile. 'Thanks for the pep talk, Dyn. I'll be fine now.'

'Sure you will!' she said with a smart nod and quick, characteristic pat on the arm. 'I'll see you later.'

He stared blindly after her.

She says Christine loves me, he thought. Before today, the certainty of that statement would have filled him with joy. Just now, it lay like a heavy, smothering blanket. But does she really? Is she just trying to hold on, no matter what? Or does she love me enough to let me go if I can't do this again?

Mrs Mulgrew's room, 3.15pm

Christine did not wait for the bell to stop pealing before slipping past a startled Year 9 with little more than a murmured dismissal; she hadn't even set their homework. Her breathing came in short gasps as she hurried down the stairs, grasping the rail tightly. She didn't want fear to turn into dizziness and result in another fall down the stairs—and refused to listen to the bitter voice in her head that told her that perhaps falling down the stairs was the best thing she could do, under the circumstances.

Tom exited his classroom just as she reached the junction that linked their corridors and she tried to speak, but her her words died when he caught sight of her and twisted on his heel to march in the opposite direction. Connor, Imogen and Dynasty clustered around her.

'Is it true?' That was Dynasty. 'You're pregnant?'

Christine closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, willing the world to stop spinning. 'How—'

'You are, aren't you,' Connor said, and she bit into her lip and nodded slowly. 'Imogen was right, it hasn't been food poisoning at all!'

Her eyes flew open at that and she reached to grab her son's arm. 'It was, I swear. It was just…it was—'

'Morning sickness as well, eh?' Imogen offered. Christine's gaze switched to her daughter-in-law and something tightly coiled within her relaxed as she met the younger woman's eyes. There was no judgement there, only understanding.

Her throat uncomfortably tight, she managed a jerky nod.

'Tom's ragin',' Dynasty told her softly. ''E thinks you've told Connor before him.'

'I'm sorry, Mum.' The guilt in her son's voice made Christine feel ill; she didn't want this to be another burden on Connor's shoulders. 'I put my foot in it and then… he totally lost it and me and Imogen walked out.'

'An' so did everyone else,' the Head Girl put in smartly. 'I sent them out 'cos Tom was beside 'imself, it not good for the others to see 'im like that, they'd only gossip. Nothin' to do with them, is it?'

'I'm goin' to find him,' Connor announced, his jaw very square, and once again Christine felt a pang. Her little boy had indeed grown up. 'It was my fault for opening my stupid gob in the first place, he's no right to be pissed at you—'

'No!' She grabbed at him. 'No, son. I…' She sighed. 'Imagine if it was you and Imogen … It has to be me.'

'I'm still coming with you,' he said, taking her arm. She didn't protest further; in all honesty she was grateful for the support. The stupid easy tears (had she been as weepy as this with Connor? She couldn't remember) rushed to her eyes when the girls nodded and said they were coming too, the sets of their jaws daring her to argue.

She did not argue. She was too tired, too afraid, too heartsick to even try.

'Fine.' Still grasping tightly to Connor's arm, she lead them towards Tom's office, halting when they were some metres alway. She took a deep breath. 'Stay here.'

Connor surprised her by pulling her into a tight hug. 'It'll be fine, Mum. No matter what. You and me and Imogen, we're family, right?'

'And me,' Dynasty added firmly. 'I swear, Christine, you saved me life last term.' Her voice broke. 'I love you to bits, I do, anythin' I can do—'

Christine's breath caught in a sob as she pulled both girls into her embrace along with Connor, her eyes closing once again as she tried to absorb the love and strength they offered. The rapid beat of her pulse in her ears told her that time was passing and she couldn't leave Tom to brood any longer. She stiffened her shoulders and stood back, one hand swiftly disposing of the tell-tale tears.

'Wish me luck,' she whispered before pivoting on her heel and marching to Tom's door with her head held high.

She did not knock. No point in giving him an easy way out, she thought grimly as she opened the door and pushed it shut behind her.

He twisted from the window to look at her.

'What d'you want?'

Christine had to steel herself against the harshness of his tone and force herself to speak gently instead of responding in kind. 'I… just want to talk to you.'

'Can't it wait? I'm a bit busy—'

She managed to summon a smile. 'Sure. At home, then? Later?'

His eyes were hard, their blue lacking warmth. 'Your home?'

'And yours,' she managed, her mouth going dry. 'Isn't it?'

'I dunno. Not sure about much, right now.' A pause, during which she could see the erratic bobbing of his adam's apple. 'Is it true?'

Christine's mouth opened and closed again as realisation blossomed, obliterating the weeks of agony and doubt. For her, this child was welcome and wanted, a child created of love. Her past was simply that, her past, and there was no reason for it to throw its long shadow over this new present… and in truth part of her was secretly thrilled that she'd been able to defy the odds and conceive so quickly. After all, it wasn't her fault Tom had changed his mind. When it came down to brass tacks her conscience was clear.

But for him… for him, this was a pain point. She had to find a way to soothe that pain as he'd soothed so many of hers.

In the end she decided blunt honesty was the best policy.

'My last period was in December, just before we got together. Then… it all changed so quickly, Tom. You wanted a kid and then you didn't and—and I missed a period and I wasn't sure because I've had false alarms before—'

'You lied about being on the pill,' he accused coldly. 'Why'd you let me think you were on it if you weren't? When you know—'

Christine blew out a breath, determined to stay calm.

'I know, I know! I was stupid, I should have said that I was starting to wonder, but I couldn't believe it, you know? I couldn't believe I could be pregnant so quickly and then I was scared but… You're right. You're absolutely right, it was my fault. I was stupid, I should've talked to you, I'm so sorry.'

Their gazes locked. Christine ticked the passing seconds by the beat of her heart.

Finally, Tom spoke.

'December, you say?' He sounded a shade less frosty.

She nodded.

'Nearly two months, eh? Officially, that is?'

Christine blinked. That hadn't occurred to her, but he was right. If her last period had been mid-December and they were now in February—She gave a shrug of agreement.

He laughed, alarming her. Was that a good thing?

'Tom?'

Now he was grinning. 'Didn't hang about, did we?'

'Well … we weren't always careful, Imogen was right.' They exchanged careful, ruefully amused smiles. It gave her the confidence to add in a rush, 'And I wasn't on the pill. I never was, I didn't lie about it, if you'd asked instead of just assuming—'

'Hey, I've always been an ass,' he interrupted in the old way and all at once she was laughing and then she was crying, reaction setting in after weeks of anxiety. 'And so are you, keepin' mum all this time—pun not intended.'

He caught her in a hug as he ended and she clung to him.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered into his shoulder, 'I'm sorry if you thought—'

'Never mind what I thought,' he cut in. He sounded nearly as rough as she did. His hands moved to her shoulders and pushed her away, just enough. 'Just promise. No more secrets?'

'No more secrets,' she agreed. She'd have agreed to almost anything to be free of fear, to have him safely beside her.

At the time, she meant every word.

TBC... but please be patient!

Next time: The Mulgrews (and Tom) adjust to Christine's pregnancy while gossip runs wild through the school.