I couldn't leave you with such a horrible ending as the last chapter. Here is a another offering very quickly. Please read and enjoy and review! Pips

Chapter Thirty-Five

How I managed to get into work, I wasn't sure. I spent the whole of Sunday curled up in a womb like position; buried underneath my duvet alternately crying, fuming and sleeping, getting up only to attend to the most basic of my needs. But the overwhelming implantation of routine had me waking on the Monday morning and heading into work, aware that I had been absent for too long and would need a doctor's certificate to stay off any further days. Somehow I didn't think they wrote them for broken hearts.

The headache that had dogged me rapidly turned into a pounding migraine so that by the time I sat at my desk I was almost cross eyed with trying to concentrate. Tatty looked up at my arrival and grinned mouthing something over the phone call she was on. I returned it with the barest excuse for a smile before sitting down and firing up my computer. "You are going to have your work cut out this morning," she said as she finished the call.

"Why?"

"Didn't you hear about Cluinn at the V festival? In fact weren't you there?"

"No." My tone was dead, discouraging.

"I can't believe that you get back stage laminates to everything and don't use them. First T in the Park, now V. If you don't want them, please would you pass them on to me, you know I would give my eye teeth!"

"Tat, what happened that needs my urgent attention?" My voice was weary, I was already tired and it was only nine thirty in the morning.

"Oh God, what rock have you been hiding under? There was a big fight before they went onstage on Sunday, apparently um Jim McCullough and Phantom were like literally taking blows at each other, people were betting on the result and then they went on stage and performed this totally fantastic energised set, although they barely looked at each other throughout. Think you need to wield the PR stick of love and peace over them." I simply sighed and briefly closed my eyes. It wasn't surprising, Jim no doubt made some arsy comment and Richard would have hit back – totally typical, although less so that they did it in front of an audience.

I sat down and wrote a couple of releases, emphasising the long running friendship of the band, light heartedly comparing it to the stresses of the boxing ring and sent them to several magazines and the label. I then stopped and looked at my watch, aware that my stomach was growling and I was close to tears. It was hard thinking about the band, bringing them into my consciousness for it made me face up to the truth that I had discovered. "I'm just going to pop out for some food Tatty," I said in the same low toneless voice.

"Okay," she looked up and concern filled her eyes. "Izzy, are you sure you should be back at work, you really don't look good? Is everything all right?" At her gentle probing I felt the tears well up in my eyes, but turned away before she could see them, nodding as I didn't trust myself to speak, practically running out of the office so that she could not ask anymore questions.

I meandered around the shops for a few minute, hoping to regain my equilibrium, buying a sandwich and treating myself to a chocolate bar. The joys of the chemist yielded a new lipstick and some concealer to try and hide the bags under my eyes, although I kept washing it off with my tears. I joined the queue that snaked around the small shop, gazing with disinterest at the shelves to keep my mind from wandering. It was then that my eyes landed on the pregnancy kit. There was no point in buying one, my doctor had confirmed my state, but somehow I wanted to see for myself, see the blue line as confirmation because maybe, just maybe she had got it wrong. "Pigs might fly," I muttered to myself, pulling the narrow box off the shelf and adding it to my purchases, trying to keep up a nonchalant air as if the results would not bother me.

I managed to get out of the shop and nearly back to the office before I started crying again – unable to control the emotions that would not lie down, desperately unhappy and scared. Richard's infidelity had not only destroyed my hopes of a relationship, it had in a single action denied me a loving father for my child. I was to be a single parent and that was the most frightening thought of all.

"Izzy!" Tatiana's voice held genuine worry as I rushed back into the office, dumping my sandwich, before running off to the toilets. In the cubicle I forced myself to open the box and sat on the bowl with shaking hands, trying to make sense of the instructions. The actions done, I then put the cap on and waited for the results, tears streaming down my face. It was the longest two minutes of my life. "Izzy?" I heard my colleague's voice echo in the tiled room but didn't reply, unable to stop myself from crying as the clear white changed to a firm blue cross – pregnant without a doubt.

"Oh my god!" I heard the voice coming from higher up and looked up in shock, gasping as I saw Tatiana's face peering over the top of the cubicle next door. Like a schoolgirl she must have been standing on next door loo's seat. I didn't know if I found her concern touching or not. "Izzy!" I waited for the thud as she jumped down, and stood up, opening the door to the cubicle and exiting, wiping the tears away. She was by my side instantly, a comforting arm around my shoulders and I rested my head against hers glad for comfort from whoever offered it.

"I thought you had been off colour for the past few weeks – guess this is why! Do you know how far gone you are?" I shrugged, trying to find my voice.

"About a month or so," I couldn't be bothered with accuracy, talk of morning sickness or trimesters.

"Do you know who the Father is?" I nodded my head, staring at the test in my hand, the blue lines mocking me. "Have you told him?"

"No, haven't found the chance," I tried to say, but started to cry again after the first word.

"Hey," she said stroking my hair softly as I wetted her shoulder with my tears. "I am sure he won't mind, but you should tell him." She paused and then added in a different tone of voice. "Isabella, it isn't my brother's is it?" I looked up sharply at her, narrowing my eyes, wondering how she jumped to that conclusion, before remembering that she played our tentative relationship up in her mind, which was what had started all the trouble between Richard and me. She caught my look, the shock in my eyes. "I've guessed right haven't I?" Her voice held a grim note, although there was a certain look in her eyes that I could not read.

In a flash of clarity I realised that I could potentially lie my way of the situation I had sunk into. There were a few concrete facts, namely that I was not getting rid of this child come hell or high water, that Richard had given up his right to any parental responsibility by his actions and that I was in serious danger of becoming a single mother living on benefits if I wasn't careful. Tatiana had just offered me an escape route and I suddenly felt like Scarlett O'Hara. Yes, I would lie, cheat and steal to defend this child growing inside me.

With guilt weighing down on me I nodded my head. Let the lying begin, anything for my baby!

"Why didn't you tell me Izzy?" Ralph shifted uncomfortably on his chair opposite his hand clenched around a cooling cup of coffee, a tic appearing in his pale cheek. All the blood had washed from his face when I told him the inconvenient truth, or the version I was now sticking to. I was at an advantage as he could not remember the night we had spent together, it would mean he was unable to know that I was lying, at least until the child was born.

"I only, well, I only really just had it confirmed," I whispered, which was the truth. "Ralph, you are the only one I have been with recently." I shook my head, tears rolling down my face again at the lies I was forcing myself to spout. He took one look at them and offered me his handkerchief. "I kept telling myself I had a virus or something."

"And the doctor said you were about four weeks?" I nodded and rapidly did some calculations in my head. We had spent a night together four weeks and three days ago, the figures could add up and I doubted he understood the ins and outs of conception.

"The thing is Ralph, well the reason I asked to speak to you is that I have realised after doing some serious thinking that, well, I cannot get rid of this um child." More tears. "My parents would not, I was bought up not to...I'm sorry," I disintegrated into crying again, the thought of being forced into an abortion more then I could handle.

"Izzy, no – I agree, please don't think I would ever ask that of you!" His voice sounded shocked and I was grateful for his moral standing. "But would you consider putting it up for adoption maybe – do you actually want to bring a child up?"

I nodded. "This is the only family I have Ralph, how could I give it away." I stroked my flat stomach possessively. "How could I?" I reiterated before pausing and looking up at him through tears soaked spiky lashes – it was time to reel in the bait and see if he would bite. I felt like a cold hearted bitch as I spoke the words. "But at the same time I don't know I can manage? I earn a decent salary, but it is just me with no support, no help. I don't see how I could work and bring up a child." I gave a sigh my mouth trembling as I truly thought of the difficulties of my situation.

"No, that wouldn't be a worry." His voice was warm and soft and he lifted a large hand off his mug and placed it on top of mine squeezing it. "Izzy, I still think you are the most wonderful woman around and this pregnancy doesn't change it. Whatever you want from me I offer it, money, a home, a husband?" He added the last option in a light hearted teasing note. I caught my breath and looked up at him.

"Are you serious?" I barely dared to breathe; my salvation had just been handed to me. "What do you want?"

"Isabella, I would marry you tomorrow, give this child the security of my name and a stable upbringing if that is what you want. Granted I find you enchanting and I hope that this attraction can grow into love with a little bit of time. But I don't want to force you into that if you don't want to. Didn't you say there was someone else?"

"No," I shook my head. "It was an infatuation and it will never be." I hesitated.

"Was it your flatmate, the Phantom chap? Tatiana told me he had a girlfriend, that can't be easy." At Richard's name the tears decided to make a reappearance, although this time Ralph reached over and gently wiped them away. "Hey, you didn't sleep with him, you slept with me and I am honoured you made that choice. What can I say, Isabella will you marry me?

This wasn't how I imagined a proposal. It should have been a romantic evening in a restaurant, my future husband (looking very like Richard) down on one knee. Instead it was in a coffee shop, I was lying through my teeth to the man opposite me and he was duped enough to do the honourable thing and offer to marry me, even though we were not in love. I hesitated a modicum. "Please be aware that I don't love you Ralph," I said, giving him an escape route. I think you are a lovely kind and decent person but..." He silenced me with a finger against my lips.

"Hush, I realise that, but hopefully love can grow. We are still attracted to each other and that is a lot more then many people have. So, will you marry me Isabella? Let me be a father to our child and a husband to you?" I held his gaze, my heart breaking as I forced myself to say the word.

"Yes, yes Ralph, I will." His preppy smile appeared on his face and he sat back in his chair; relaxing slightly.

"You've made me a very happy person Izzy. Shall I return the favour, there is still half a day left, so let's skip work and go and buy you and engagement ring shall we?"

It was nearly five by the time we had selected a suitably large solitaire diamond. I realised the power of money as Ralph drew out his platinum credit card, buying the ring without blanching, even hesitating. It was fitted to my ring within the hour and I was now staring down at the symbol of my future. It felt heavy and wrong on my finger and I hoped that it did not signify what my marriage was to be like.

"Izzy," Ralph said his arm around my shoulders. "Will you come and stay the night with me? I don't want to leave you alone, we have so much to catch up on and talk about." I looked up at he smiled down at me, comforting, safe and warm.

"Yeah," I nodded, glad of an excuse to not have to be by myself for another night. I did not fancy being alone in the flat a second longer. "Can I just go by my place to pick up some clothes first; you can come with me if you like. I suppose we should call Tatty as well?"

"Of course, we can call her on the way back and I can guarantee she will be over in a second. She's been worried about you, you know?" I gave a small snort and relaxed into a smile of my own for the first time – maybe I wasn't as alone as I had first thought.

We made our way up to my flat, my heart a little lighter then it had been that morning. Despite the fact that I still had a broken heart, at least I was doing something positive. What I hadn't expected was what greeted me as I walked through the door.

Richard sat on the sofa; he jumped up as soon as I walked through the door, starring at me with a horrified gaze which then fell on Ralph before lingering on the arm he had wrapped around my waist. I took him in with a look, noted that he was dressed down, jeans, a simple t-shirt, his hair tied back in a short ponytail, bare feet and his mask off his face, glasses on. He was all Ric and not Phantom and I frowned, it was as if he were trying as hard as possible to connect with me.

"Richard," I said as calmly as I could, nodding my head.

"Isabella," he replied matching my tone before switching his gaze to the man that stood beside me. "Ralph."

"Richard, hello," Ralph said professionally. "I didn't recognise you, so, um dressed down." I felt him flinch as he looked at the scar on Ric's face; anger welling up at his reaction. I quashed it down for there was no point getting worked up on his behalf. "I am glad you are here, you can be the first to share in our good news – Izzy and I are getting married! Show him the ring darling." I slowly extended my hand, not daring to look Richard in the eye. On his part he didn't take any steps forward to close the gap, but simply nodded and snorted, although I could feel his gaze burning into me.

"Excuse me, I need to gather my things," I mumbled, stepping away from Ralph's protective grasp and skirting around Richard, rushing to my bedroom and pushing the door shut. I dragged my small black suitcase from under the bed, opening it on the bed and started to dump handfuls of clothing in it as quickly as possible, not bothering to choose or fold. I was shaking hard and I knew the tears would not be far behind. Oh god, why did he have to be here? Why could he not have stayed away?

The door burst open only seconds later and Richard strode in, standing on the other side of the bed, hands on his hips, chest heaving. "Izzy, what the hell are you doing?" His voice was raw but I could still detect the lecturing tone in it.

"Looking after myself," I spat back, biting back my tears. "No thanks to you."

"I didn't mean it that way," there was a quiver in his voice that made me look up and I blanched at the sheen of tears that filmed across his eyes. "Izzy, please..."

"Please what?" I gulped hard. "No Ric, there is no point asking- anything. I will never forgive you for what you did, you destroyed all the trust I had put in you, more so that it wasn't the first time. I don't want to see you anymore."

"What?" For a moment he looked confused. "Let me explain, please?"

"No!" I shouted the word. "You wouldn't let me explain, you didn't give me the benefit of the doubt, so why should I offer it to you?" I glared at him for a moment, watching as a single tear slipped out of his eye and ran down his cheek and I closed my eyes briefly, not wanting to witness his degradation. With a sigh I shook my head and continued on my whirlwind packing.

"Izzy, I love you," the words were spoken firmly but softly and it made me hesitate. Richard rarely said them without prompting, without reason.

"No you don't!"

"I do, Izzy, I love you, I really love you. Please give me a second chance, let me explain?" He was openly begging now his hand held out in supplication and I knew that if I looked at him I would see the tears that were clogging up his voice. I shook my head tightly again.

"No Richard, I can't, I'm sorry. You hurt me too much and I cannot put..." I paused realising I was about to let my secret out. "I cannot put myself in that position. I will never forget the sight of you on that bus, never, and so I will never be able to trust you again. I swallowed hard to try and stop my voice from trembling. "You can stay in this flat, I am moving in with Ralph. I will get the solicitor's papers drawn up and sent to you as soon as I can."

"Izzy?" I ignored him and continued.

"I will also be handing the Cluinn account over to Tatiana as I think it is best to maintain a professional distance as well as a personal one. Good luck with your tour, I am sure it will go well – especially if you manage to avoid beating Jim up again." My voice was cool and formal as I threw in the last few things from my dresser, grabbing a tissue and wiping my eyes. "I hope it goes well for you in the future." I dragged my case off the bed and trailed it behind me, trying not to look at him, standing there, knowing that he was falling apart inside as much as I was. It made it so much more difficult, but I had chosen my course and could not veer off now.

"I will always love you Isabella," he said taking a step towards me. "And I will always be grateful for all that you've done both for me and the band." He inhaled and his voice finally broke. "Good luck my darling Izzy." I practically ran from the room, unable to spend another second in there with him. It was almost as if it were another man from the one I had seen on Saturday, which had been Phantom, this was my beloved Ric.

I was crying openly as I left, unable to control the tears that flooded down my cheeks. I walked over to Ralph, his face openly shocked at my lack of disposition, however to his credit he simply put his arms around me and hurried me back to his flat.

It was almost easy after that – the thing I had been fearing the most, seeing Richard again; facing up to the truth had been a painful five minutes but I had managed to survive it, to catharsis the pain; even though I had been on the edge of breaking up, taking the hand he had offered me and forgiving him, once more. But I had remained strong, held up and walked out. The spine of steel that I seemed to have grown overnight came in useful in the intervening weeks.

To say that Cheyne senior (now to be lovingly called Peter) and Annabel his wife welcomed me with open arms would be over exaggerating slightly. There was a difficult conversation with them both, tight lipped and white faced; their blame very much placed on their son – the golden boy of the family, for being stupid enough to get a girl pregnant, especially as a one night stand.

However, the fact that I was the daughter of a friend, also that I was standing firm on my morals did give me some leeway and it was with a grudging respect that they accepted me into their family. It was agreed by all, that the wedding would be a civil affair, quiet and restrained – there was no need to attract unnecessary attention to the speed with which Ralph and I had become engaged and married – fingers and tongues would only be wagged and slander spread. The date was set for six weeks after our hasty engagement, a civil wedding at Chelsea Registry office. Annabel Cheyne was slightly put out that I seemed to have no one to represent my family, that side of the room remaining empty – even Anne and Mags were unable to attend, for the notice period was so short.

It was only a few days before the happy event that Annabel called to me as I came in through the front door. I had been spending the day with Tatiana, shopping for a dress for her before we had a family dinner. "Isabella," my future mother-in-law's voice was sharp as she called from the study at the front of the house. I bit down a groan and went and stood in the doorway, my dutiful smile on my face, wondering what small detail she could upbraid me on now.

I had realised over the past few weeks that she was a perfectionist, the house and herself always formally presented without a hair out of place. I understood the whispered unity between Tatiana and Ralph now, their relationship with their parents was not an easy one. I would not be getting a warm and comforting surrogate mother with my marriage.

Her eyes drifted across me, towards the hand that I protectively clasped across my belly. The baby was still quite a way from moving, but at the twelve weeks, I was started to feel more human, the promised hormones flowing through my body and my energy returning, so that I was starting to connect even more with the child growing inside me. I couldn't wait for the first few kicks.

My medical care had been transferred to the private Portland hospital, the NHS far too basic for the future Cheyne heir. I had my scan at twelve weeks, Ralph electing to stay away, claiming that women's things made him feel queasy. Instead Tatty had accompanied me, sitting for once in awed silence as she saw her little niece or nephew wriggling around on the grainy picture on the monitor. I had laid there, tears streaming down my face and in my mind telling Ric that our child was happy and healthy, all the information and measurements being correct and present and within guidelines. The only thing, the radiographer mentioned with a frown, was that the baby seemed to be quite big for my dates, not that it worried them as it could all sort itself out. But that was a week ago and now I stood looking at Annabel and wondering what she had to say, even though I desperately wanted to go and lie down, have some time to myself.

"Izzy," she said with a smile. "I have had a reply from one of your guests and they enclosed a private note for you," she said to me with a polished smile, holding out a sealed envelope, hotel stationary in its appearance.

"Guests?" To my knowledge, the only people I had invited had been Anne and Mags, both sending their best wishes but apologies.

"Well, Tatiana and I were so worried that no one would be there for you that she was able to get an address for your old flatmate and his group – I believe they are your friends?" I felt my heart sink into my shoes at her words. It had only been by not thinking about Ric, or Cluinn that I had managed to survive these past six weeks. I had saved my crying for when I was alone, infuriatingly little, but occasionally in the bath or in the middle of the night as I couldn't sleep, I lay there and let the tears flow down my cheeks. "Tatty was able to get their location as she does their PR. So kind of her don't you agree?" I nodded dumbly and took the envelope from her outstretched hand.

"Please excuse me Annabel," I said with a trembling smile, making sure that I didn't forget my manners. With slow steps I went up to the room that Ralph and I shared when we came to stay, collapsing on the bed and opening the envelope with my name written on it in Richard's scrawl – the writing that used to be littered around my little flat on a hundred pages of notes, sheet music, shopping lists and text books.

Inside a folded sheet of paper turned out to be a flyer advertising the venues the band were playing on their tour. It was a punishing schedule that they were about halfway through. According to this they were due to play Cardiff International Arena that evening, not quite the vast millennium stadium, but still a huge venue, attesting to their growing popularity in the United Kingdom. It helped that the second single they had released, two days after I had parted way with Richard, had soared to the dizzy heights of number three in the charts. The album was also sticking in the top ten, now there for over sixteen weeks.

But it still did not explain this cryptic message, until I shook the envelope and a CD fell out. I looked at it in curiosity, for it simply held the words, 'this is how it feels' in Richard's handwriting. There was no explanation; no note no words and I began to wonder what was happening. I was worried that it might be some sort of spoken plea – hearing his voice talking to me would be horrific – it was bad enough listening to him singing on the radio; I had become a big fan of Classic FM, anything to avoid listening to his rock music.

But I had to find out what was on this CD and so I walked over to the old player that sat on the shelf and put the CD in, pressing play and sitting back down on the bed with the remote control, listening to what had been recorded. Ric's voice flooded the room, soft and haunting

Take me by the hand,

And lead me to the slaughter,

Close my eyes and sing just let it go.

The warmest rain, it falls

On the darkest crimson mountains.

Seeping from the wound,

I think alone.

The tears started to run down my face as I listened to the words.

Don't say the pain will fade tomorrow;

The last thing that I'll feel will be today.

Hey.

You, you, you,

Don't you know?

You took upon my soul.

(I'll never feel this way again)

You, you, you,

Don't you know?

you put me on my knees

and cut my throat.

(I'll never feel this way again)

"You bastard," I muttered as the song went on in the background. The blame it was placing on me, the guilt – the thought that he was possibly suffering at the hand of my actions when I suffering equally.

I lost my positivity.

I'm positively lost.

I thought the path was obvious; it's not.

Resign myself to failed potential,

The wind it hits the sails.

My scarred hands sustain in these two nails.

But don't say the pain will fade tomorrow;

The last thing that I feel will be today.

Hey

The tears had started to run fully down my face now. The thought that he was down and depressed and that this song was his outlet and expression for that had me burying my face in the pillow, biting my hand to try and stop myself crying out loud. Then I heard the end, pounding chords repeating again and again, the music invasive and persistent in its tone.

This is how it feels.

This is how it feels.

The words were repeated again and again, pounding into my brain so that the guilt and unhappiness became mine. There was little I could do but fall to the floor, weeping my heart out.

The End...

Or is it?

The end of Part One most definitely, but it can't be the final end - at least I hope not. Please tell me what you think - should it end here and be a horrible angsty piece, or can there be some retribution for our characters (they are refusing to remain quiet in my head, so there are stories to be told).

The lyrics are The Light that Burns Twice as Bright by Lost Prophets from the album The Betrayed