It is my second morning in jail and I am going stir crazy already. My two nights have been torture so far. Not because of anything physical. The mental strain is what's getting to me; the prospect that this may be how the rest of my life is going to be.

Right now I am in an interrogation room, sitting at a table, handcuffed and facing Detective Ethan Scott.

"Where were you on December 28th 2010?"

"I'm not talking to ye without the presence of my lawyer, baby-cop." I say. "Do you mind if I call you that? No? Good."

"Look, Brady, I have told you already I am just questioning you."

"Excuse me if I remain sceptical. I have spent two nights in jail after being told I was being charged for murder only for ye to tell me that I am 'just a suspect' now."

"We had good reason to move for a charge but we have another compelling suspect now." Ethan says.

"Do we now?" I wonder who that is. Warren?

"This doesn't mean you are off the hook. We can hold you for questioning for up to 72 hours so I would welcome your co-operation for the next day."

I laugh.

"What is so funny?"

"Baby-cop, with all due respect you are an eejit. Where is your senior? Why have they given this case to a moron?"

"You want to be careful, Brendan, or I'll hold you in contempt."

"Oooh!" I pretend to act like I am scared. "Are ye sure because ye seem to change yer charges at the drop of a hat."

"Where were you on the evening of December 28th, 2010?" Ethan says impatiently. "We have strong reason to believe that is when Danny Houston was killed. He last used one of his credit cards that morning and one of his girlfriends walked into a police station the next morning worried that he hadn't turned up for a booty call the night before."

"December 28th you say. It was a long time ago. Let me think. Oh yeah, I was in Chester in the morning sorting out a drinks order for the club's New Year's Eve party."

This is not a lie. We needed to order some more last minute booze. I have the invoice to prove it.

"Then?"

"Then I got back to the club and Warren and I decided not to open the club that night." I say.

"Any particular reason? Doesn't make business sense to close a club during the Christmas season."

"Call it a Christmas gift to our staff. They deserved a break. I'm all give, give, give detective."

Ethan raises an eyebrow. "How convenient; an empty club with no witnesses."

"What are you suggesting?" I ask.

"I'm asking the questions here." He says. "Then what did you do?"

"Don't remember exactly. Carol singing? Hugging strangers? Passing on the Christmas fever?"

"Were you in Hollyoaks?"

"Where else?"

"Who with?"

"I can't remember."

"But you were with someone. Warren?"

"As I said, I can't remember." I was killing a man with Warren as my witness, judge... in the cellar... with a hook. Then we spent the night dumping his body.

"Did you see anyone who could state your whereabouts the rest of the day, Brendan?"

"I can't remember."

Baby-cop stares me down and changes tact when he sees he has hit a brick wall. He asks me questions about Danny; how I know him, for how long, what our relationship was.

"You were friends?"

"Never. Business partners. Is that a crime?"

"No, but money laundering is. We know that Danny Houston used to pour drug money into the club you ran for him in Liverpool to clean it up."

I try to keep cool but I can feel a tick in my right cheek. "I wouldn't know anything about that."

"Did you know he was doing that same with Chez Chez; investing in legitimate business with illegitimate money?"

"No. He wasn't." Of course he was. Danny was a slippery fellow. When I asked him to be silent partner for my sister's business I was in no doubt that his money was dirty but where else was Chez going to find such a big investor so quickly?

Sometimes ye have to swim with sharks to catch yer fish.

"He was and I believe that you found out and you didn't like it one bit because your sister's reputation and livelihood were in jeopardy. So you took the law into your own hands and decided to get rid of the mobster."

I smile. "Are ye asking or saying, Ethan?"

"Is that what happened?"

"No."

"Did you kill Danny Houston, Brendan?"

I laugh outright and I know that my eyes must look crazed. And then I stop abruptly. "No Ethan. No, I did not."

"So explain this." He throws a metal rod contained in a clear plastic bag onto the table between us with a clang.

My palms feel sweaty as I recall hitting Danny over and over again in the head with it when I was in a trance of pure molten rage.

I point at it and will my finger to stop shaking. "That, detective, is a metal crate opener. We use them at the club to open our drinks deliveries."

"It does belong to your club. Can you explain why this one has Danny Houston's blood, bone and brain tissue on it?" Ethan asks calmly.

I rub down my moustache and my cheek twitches uncontrollably. "No. Ye should ask the murderer."

"Can you explain why this one has Danny Houston's blood, bone and brain tissue on it?" He repeats.

I grin coldly. "I see what ye did there. Funny."

"It has your fingerprints on it."

"Are ye telling me that mine are the only fingerprints on it?" I ask.

He stays quiet.

"Thought not. Ye'll find my fingerprints on most things at the club. I am hands on, me." I am playing it cool but this is not looking good. "We could use it once it has had a bit of a clean. Teeth don't work as well at opening crates. Where did ye find it by the way?"

"We got a tip off, Brendan. Why don't you leave the questions to me, huh?"

I lean back in my seat. "I think I would like my lawyer after all."

Ethan smiles lopsidedly. "Getting a little nervous now?"

"No."

Just then a uniformed officer walks into the room and leans in to whisper in Ethan's ear. Diaper-cop widens his eyes in surprise and then composes himself.

"Are you sure?" He asks.

"Yes."

He stands up and stares me down.

"Stay here."

Baby-cop is gone for nearly half an hour when a guard walks into the room and says,

"We are taking you back to your cell, Brady."

I mentally go to panic stations. What the hell is happening? Have they found further evidence that digs me in deeper? Is the second suspect in the murder crossed off their list of 'whodunit'?

"Where is detective Scott?" I ask.

"He has been pulled to another job."

"Good." I say calmly as I stand up, handcuffed, and follow two other guards out of the room. "I was thinking about making my cell more feng shui, anyway."

-0-0-

I have been waiting in my cell all day since speaking to Ethan this morning. There is no natural light so my only sense of time comes from the black and white clock hanging from the wall.

I need a lawyer. This is not looking good at all. Why did Ethan have to go all of a sudden and why is no one telling me anything? I don't know what they have on the other guy that they are holding for questioning but I doubt it is a murder weapon with suspect finger prints and victim DNA on it.

How the fuck did they find it? Did Warren tell them? The fucking bastard! I thought we had a deal.

I am not answering any more questions until I have my solicitor with me.

As I stare at the dark grey four solid walls that surround me I feel like the world has forgotten me.

Not that anyone would miss me.

Stephen has moved on with that poser from the gym. Though I understand why he would want to get his revenge on me, it fucking hurts like a bitch to think that he might have been the one to give my name to the police.

Pete might miss me a little but we have only just rekindled our friendship and he hasn't come to visit me in jail.

Cheryl will pine after me, bless her. She came yesterday, the morning after my arrest. We kind of made up. She was angry, mind. Couldn't understand why I had kept the fact that I like getting with men from her. She was particularly upset that I kept my involvement with Stephen from her. She was disappointed that I was a more evil human than she could possibly imagine; a thief, drug dealer, best friend beater and murder suspect. I admit it is a lot to find out about the brother you have always looked up to.

I thought I would take the opportunity to confess just how shit I had been with Stephen. Yeah, just to really make her see how fucked up her sweet older brother is. I told her. She was horrified. Job done. It is what I do; push the people I care about away.

The bottom line is there aren't too many in the world that would shed a tear over me being put away.

I fall asleep out of sheer boredom and exhaustion but find myself tossing and turning all night long.

I am woken up early the next day by the door to the cell unlocking from the outside. A guard walks in. It is 6 am.

"Detective Scott will see you now."

"About fucking time, too."

-0-0-

"Who were you with after lunch on December 28th 2010, Brendan?" Ethan asks.

"That question again. I said I can't remember."

"He said you might say that." He smiles coldly.

"Who?"

Is he talking about Warren?

"You really are something, aren't you?" He shakes his head with an incredulous look on his face.

"Can I get my lawyer now?"

"You don't need one."

I frown.

"You are like one of those Russian dolls, Brendan Brady. You take off one layer only to discover another one and I was not expecting that layer!"

"Care to say something that makes sense." I am confused.

"Were you really prepared to get charged with murder rather than being outed?"

I sit upright. " 'Scuse me?"

"I know who you were having a secret rendezvous with the afternoon and night of the 28th."

"What?"

"There is no point denying it, Brendan. I didn't know gay men like you existed any more. You are so far in the closet you can't find your way out."

I protest, "I don't know who ye have been talking to but-"

"Stephen Hay and his story checks out."

"Stephen?" I whisper.

"Yes. I had to make sure that he wasn't lying so I spent the rest of yesterday asking around about you and your 'girlfriend' has admitted that your relationship is a sham. Your friend, Pete Hamill, your business colleague, Warren Fox, the mother of Ste's children, Amy Barnes and your sister have collaborated and say that you have been having a relationship with Stephen Hay for the last few months on and off. I even gave your soon to be ex-wife Eileen a ring. That was an interesting conversation."

Fuck.

"You cheated on her with her nephew. Really, Brendan. That is low." Ethan says quietly. "You have been a bad, bad boy but you are no murderer."

I barely hear him. I can only think of one thing...

"Stephen." I whisper. "He said we were together that day?"

Why did he get involved? Why did he stick his neck out for me? He could get in a whole load of trouble if the cops find out he lied.

"Yes. He tells me you went round to his and the two of you hardly left his bedroom that day, you randy thing!" His smile is cold.

"I-"

"You really hate that your secret is out, don't you?" He says.

I am too stunned to say anything.

"Welcome to the world of being an out gay man, Brendan." Ethan stands up and indicates a guard to un-cuff me. "You are free to go."

-0-0-

I hop out of the cab and walk the short distance to my car. I am conscious of looks and stares from passers-by. I find out why soon enough. Every local paper front page of the newsstand I walk past has my name and face on it.

"Gay Bad Boy Cleared By Unnamed Alibi!"

"Local Businessman Brendan Brady: Free and Out!"

"From One Shock to Another: Suspected Murderer Turned Closeted Gay!"

Fucking hell!

"What are ye looking at?" I sneer at some school kids as they crane their necks to get a good look.

They turn their heads away and pick up their pace.

I turn to the stand and rip all the newspapers of f it throwing them to the floor.

"Hey!" The owner runs out of the store looking angry but the minute he looks at me and recognises my face he backs off.

"What!" I spit out at him with crazed eyes.

"Nothing." He slowly walks back into the store.

"Thought so." I drop all but one of the papers on the ground and make my way to my car.

I have one person to see. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to guess who that is.

-0-0-

I push my finger on the doorbell and keep it there while looking around to see whether any curious neighbours are having a peek through their windows. I glance at the newspaper in my hand.

Shit. My life as I know it is over.

"Yeah! Okay! I'm coming!" Stephen shouts in annoyance through the door.

He swings the door open quickly but when he takes one look at me he tries to slam it shut again. He is too slow. I put a foot in the way and I force myself in, shoving him aside so that I can pace in his living room.

I show him the newspaper's front page.

"Gay Bad Boy Cleared By Unnamed Alibi!"

"Get out!" He says angrily after glancing at the headline.

"No." I throw the paper onto the sofa.

Stephen is already dressed for work. I look around. I can't hear the kids or Amy.

"Amy has gone to drop the kids at nursery and I am on my way to work so." He stays by the door, holding it open and points out of it.

"Is Noah here?"

He looks at me nervously and swallows. I'll take that as a 'no' then.

"Great, so we are all alone."

God. He looks so vulnerable right now. Cute despite those bags under his eyes. It is as if he hasn't been sleeping properly.

"Ye didn't tip the cops off to arrest me then?" I say.

He looks at me as if I am mad. "No."

"Right." I continue to pace.

"Just, please go, Brendan."

"Not until ye explain why ye lied to Ethan Scott."

"I don't owe you an explanation."

"I had it under control." I lie. "I didn't need ye to give me an alibi."

"Really?" He walks up to me and holds my gaze with those expressive blue eyes of his. "Because that is not what I heard. You were going down, Brendan."

"Why do you care?"

"I-" His eyes tear up. Fuck's sake. See. This is why it is no good being associated with me. I am bad news. I make his life a misery.

I take a step towards him but he backs away.

"Don't touch me." He whispers. "Seriously."

I back off. "Okay."

Do I still scare him? It kills me to think that I might.

"I don't want you to think that because I gave you an alibi that it means anything." He says. "Nothing changes between us. I am with Noah now and I am happy."

"You look tired."

"We are going away for the weekend to the Lake District." He isn't even looking at me when he says that. "We are getting stronger every day."

"Ye sound like ye are trying to persuade yerself."

"I'm not." He pulls at his sleeves the way he always does when he is nervous.

"Then why did ye put yerself on the line and lie for me?"

He looks down and shakes his head. It is as if even he hasn't really explained why to himself. I use the opportunity to make my move. I can't help it. I close the gap between us so that by the time he looks up I am right up against him with both hands firmly anchored on his hips. I feel his heat radiate through his clothes to me. I missed this.

"What are you doing?"

"Thanking ye." I whisper.

Then I do what I have been craving to do since I got here. I kiss him.

I consume him as if he is my last supper. There is no give and take here. I am greedy. This might be my last chance. He may never let me near him again so I taste him, feel him, savour every inch of him that I can without reserve or restraint. Fuck. This is like giving food to a starved man. I am eating like there is no tomorrow. When he folds himself into my arms and let's go I think I must be dreaming but I go with it. He grips me to him so firmly that I should be worried about a crush injury, not that I would care. What a way to go; squeezed to death by Stephen's embrace. I groan when he rubs himself against me and I grip his arse to encourage him closer still. Fuck yeah.

Eventually I crave stupid oxygen. I pull away reluctantly and stare at his parted gasping wet mouth. He licks his lower lip and then bites it lightly as he studies mine. It makes me growl low in my chest.

"Thanks." I whisper.

"Yeah. Sure." He clears his throat and gently pushes me away. "I have to go now and so do you."

His flat palm on me feels more like a caress than a shove. He is hot for me. A moron can see that so where does he find the self control to push me back towards the front door from?

"So ye can go to work with yer boyfriend?" I say while walking backwards.

"Yes."

I nod as we draw to a stop at the door's threshold. "How did ye know that I needed an alibi for the 28th?"

"Do you not remember telling Pete that that was when you did it?" He whispers the 'did' as if it is a dirty word.

"Pete?"

I remember being drunk as shit and rambling on and on to my childhood friend as if he was my priest and I were at confession the night we last split up. But I cannot remember every detail of what I said. I am starting to realise that I told him a lot more than I thought I had.

"Yes. You are lucky to have friends like him, Brendan. He had every right to seek revenge on you and let you rot in jail."

"As did ye." I make my way out of the door.

"Where are you going?" He asks and walks after me.

I look at him and smile slightly. "Why? Ye miss me already?"

"No! Fuck off!"

I laugh and lean in so quickly that I manage to touch my lips to his before he can react. Yeah that's right. I kissed him just outside his house. Fuck it. Anyone with ears or eyes will know my sexuality by the end of the day anyway.

He looks around us in shock. "We are outside!"

I lay a hand on his cheek gently before rubbing a thumb across his lips.

"I know." I say. "Say 'hi' to Noah for me will ye?"

He looks surprised and puzzled so I lightly pat his cheek, "Atta boy!"

I spin on my heel, jump into my car and burn rubber driving out of his cul de sac before I do something stupid like push him back into his house and try it on with him.

-0-0-

I walk into Pete's office at Hollyoaks High without a knock or invitation.

"Headmaster." I say briskly.

"We are called head teachers now, Bren. 'Master' seemed a little S and M." He says from behind his desk as he puts his pen down and pushes some papers aside. "So they released ye."

"Yes." I throw myself into the seat opposite him.

"Is that the same suit ye wore to the fashion show?"

"They don't give you a designer wardrobe when ye are in her majesty's keep, Peter. Don't worry, I don't smell."

"That's what ye think."

"Ye told Stephen to be my alibi. Ye made him pervert the course of justice. That is a criminal offence." I feel bile rising in my core.

"No I didn't, Bren. I simply asked him whether he remembered what he was doing on the 28th. He put two and two together and come up with four. Clever boy, yer fella."

"He is not my fella!" I sneer.

"Ye keep saying that but I will take one guess that the first person ye visited when ye got released was Ste." He raises an eyebrow. "Look, if I hadn't been with family on that day I would have put my name forward."

"Fuck's sake, Pete! I didn't want him involved!" I shout. "I want him to stay innocent in all this. I don't want him hurt."

"And ye think ye being in jail for life would have made him hurt less?"

I take a breath to calm down and then speak more calmly. "If the cops find out he could be facing life."

"Why should they find out?" He replies. "Look, Bren, if he did this for you it is because he cares. He may not admit it. You can't blame him. You did a number on him but he loves ye just as much as ye love him. This whole thing he has going with Noah is nothing. Air. Dust. Ye have been given a second chance. Take it with both hands and don't fuck it up this time."

"Shit, I forgot how intense ye can get sometimes." I mutter.

"Yeah, well." He shrugs.

"What did I tell ye when I was drunk as shit last week when I came round to yours?"

"A lot." He says. "I won't embarrass ye with all the details ye gave me about ye and Ste..."

My eyes widen. Surely I didn't give him intimate details...

"But ye also gave me enough information to do some investigating. Danny was a hated man by some not so savoury characters in society."

"People he had worked with?"

"Ye could say that. Ye mentioned a name."

"Trevor Duncan." I say slowly as I remember snippets of my drunken monologue to him.

"Exactly. A proper villain. Record as long as Rapunzel's hair. A nasty creature."

I see where he is going with this. "Ye anonymously tipped the police off with his name. Is he the other suspect? Was he in Hollyoaks that day?"

"I don't know but he is now the only suspect now that ye have an airtight alibi."

"They have a murder weapon with my prints on it, Pete."

"At best it adds up to circumstantial evidence. That crate opener must have other staff members' prints on it. Ye all open crates, right? Means, motive and opportunity, Bren. Ye had the means and the motive but Ste's alibi means ye didn't have the opportunity."

"Are ye sure ye weren't a little crooked in a past life, Pete?" I ask. He can be sly when he wants to be.

He taps his head. "Nah, I just have a quick brain and have hung out with a shady character or two in my life that's all. Now ye need to think about who tipped the cops with yer name or the whereabouts of the weapon." He says.

I think about this. There can only be one person who had the information.

Warren.

"And ye have to figure out how ye are going to live as an out gay man."

My heart stops.

F.U.C.K.I.N.G. H.E.L.L!

He is right. When I kissed Ste it was fine. I felt cocooned by him. It felt right to be with him like that. To kiss him. But going at it alone is something different. I don't want the scrutiny, the looks, and the comments.

I don't want to be gossip fodder.

Pete gives me an encouraging smile. "This moment has been eleven years in the making for ye, Bren. Nobody cares that ye are gay. There are bigger issues to worry about. I hope ye stop caring too."