"Morning Lizzie, Ken!" Gordon called, attempting false joviality as he entered reception, seconds after his wife. As they both stood there, watching Lizzie rifling through pile of papers for their notes, he shot her a sideways glance. They hadn't spoken since she'd left the living room the night before. He'd eventually made his way up to bed, only to find Jill asleep, or at least pretending to be. He was too much of a coward to awake her, convincing himself she needed the sleep, needed sleep more than she needed to hear an apology from him. And he did need to apologise. He was incredibly ashamed at how he'd spoken to her. Only the day after telling his mother than he would be more patient, he'd done the exact opposite. He'd practically told her he didn't love her anymore!

"Here you are doctors." Lizzie's voice broke through his thoughts, and he took the offered pile of brown folders, containing morning surgery's patient notes. Judging by the size of the piles, the morning was going to be a lengthy one. He echoed Jill's 'thanks' and began to turn towards his consulting room, when Lizzie stopped them. "Doctor Weatherill, you don't have the spare key to your office do you?"

"No. Why?"

Fear began to set in Lizzie's expression. "Because it's not here." She gestured to the box set upon the wall behind her, housing the spare keys for the entire hospital. The hook which normally held Jill's key was empty. "The box was open when I came in. But I'm sure I locked it up last night."

Everyone looked dubious at Lizzie's comment, knowing the occasional forgetfulness of the receptionist. Jill, however, looked worried. She peered at the wooden case; something didn't look right. "It doesn't look like it's been forced open to you?"

Ken took a step forward, examining the box silently for a few seconds before his fingers went up to trace a scratched area. "I'm afraid it looks that way."

Jill shot a glance at Gordon, before striding towards her office, fighting to hide the fear that was building inside of her. Three further sets of footfalls followed her. She reached a hand out, noting a trembling she could not control, and curled her fingers around the cool brass handle. She depressed it, feeling no resistance, and pushed forwards, the unlocked door opening to reveal her room. The sight that met her eyes registered straight away. Nevertheless, she took a couple of steps into the office before she stopped. Her position allowed her to survey every corner of the room, and to see Lizzie, Ken and Gordon clustered in the doorway, shock written on their faces.

"I'll phone the police!" Lizzie exclaimed, turned on her heel and dashed back the way she had come. They could hear her urgent tones as they continued to take in the state of the usually immaculate office.

The chairs were overturned, the desk drawers pulled out, their contents strewn across the room, the mirror above the sink smashed. Medical text books and journals scattered the room, various pages torn or ripped out altogether. There was a rip running the length of the fabric covering the examining bed at the end of the office, the stuffing pulled out in fistful's and left to fall to the floor.

And then her eyes caught a particular object. There on the floor was the picture of herself and Gordon on her wedding day. She knew it well, it usually resided on her desk. It had been taken after the ceremony, she was dressed in her white suit, he in a dark trousers and jacket. They were in front of their house, the gate open, allowing them to stand underneath the pergola, the white petals of the rose framing them as they enveloped each other in their arms. The stark contrast to their current relationship didn't fail to hit Jill, despite the circumstances.

Jill turned her back on the doorway where Gordon and Ken still stood, crossing her arms around herself defensively. The amount of effort and malice that had gone into the destruction of her office was what struck Jill most.

Gordon slowly stepped up behind her, reached out and tentatively slid his arms around her waist. She didn't relax, nor did she pull away. He gently pulled her closer, encasing her with her back pressed against his chest, and his arms holding her firm at her stomach. He dipped his head a fraction, placing his cheek to hers, their temples touching lightly. Her strong and rapid heartbeat was evident with his arm against her ribcage, her deep and shaky breathing moving her diaphragm against him.