And so I give to you my latest offering. I know I said it would be up yesterday but I re-read the ending and had a sudden attack of 'what-the-hell-was-i-thinking' syndrome and rewrote it which I hope doesn't work out to be a mistake! As always, a massive thank you to those of you who reviewed the last chapter, but don't be too sure that's the last you see of Shannon. ;) Enjoy!
"Ow!" Pete winced as he collapsed down on the sofa across from Lara. "Fucking hell, are you 'aving a laugh?"
Holding up the sharp looking pencil he'd sat on, he caught Lara trying not to laugh and shook his head.
"Seriously, I've already got a spastic leg, I don't fancy stumbling back into A&E with a pencil shoved up my arse," he threw it onto the coffee table and fell back into the feathered cushions behind him.
"Ooooh," Lara wiggled her eyebrows. "Listen to you being all bitchy," throwing her magazine onto the floor she folded her hands in her lap and looked at him expectantly. "What's up?"
"Nothing," he grumbled, picking up a few grapes from the fruit bowl and popping them into his mouth, rolling his eyes when he accidentally knocked his crutches to the floor, making them clatter loudly.
"Other than…" she prompted.
"Its sports day at my school," he sighed. "And I'm stuck 'ere while some twat in a shirt and tie has my boys running round the field with an egg on a fucking spoon instead of playing footie."
Laughing at the all too serious look on his face, Lara bent down and picked up his crutches, standing them up against the sofa and then leaning back again.
"What he's not telling you is that that's code for 'I haven't been laid in over a month'", Dave smirked as he walked into the room in his pilot uniform, spinning his hat on his finger and coaxing a wolf whistle out of Lara. Winking at her, he sat down next to Pete, careful not to jar his leg at all.
"D'you wanna fuck off?" Pete laughed. "Its alright for you, I bet you got some last night, didn't you, you prick?"
"A gentleman never tells," Dave shrugged and then grinned. "But, yeah, I did." He looked at Pete. "Twice,"
"What're you doing?" Pete frowned, glancing at Lara who was craning her neck to get a look at his hands.
"Looking for blisters and burns," she quipped. "7 weeks of non-stop hand action has gotta take its toll on your skin,"
Dave threw his head back and cracked up while Pete settled for shaking his head and flipping his middle finger up at her.
"Oh, you love it," she teased him, seeing the grin pulling at his mouth. "So, what's with the uniform?" she raised an eyebrow at Dave. "I don't know who told you it was my birthday but they were lying,"
"Nah," he smiled. "I'm off to…" he pulled a yellow sheet out of his pocket and rolled his eyes. "Fucking Italy, again,"
"Oh, you poor man," Lara deadpanned. "How do you cope?"
"Yeah," Pete snorted, agreeing with her. "You can fuck right off, look at me, d'you know what I'd give to be able to get on a plane and sod off somewhere?"
"Oh yeah, coz you've got it hard haven't you? With some gorgeous blonde waiting on you hand and foot?" he shot back.
"I don't think it's his foot he wants her to wait on," Lara giggled.
"Fucking hell, why do I bother telling you lot anything?" Pete laughed, shaking his head.
Before either of them had a chance to answer, the living room door opened and Allie stepped in with a huge smile on her face; the morning sickness had actually eased up a lot since she'd started drinking the tea Gemma had given her and she actually had that pregnant glow shit going on as opposed to looking drained and pale all the time.
Only the fact that she now looked even more stunning than usual wasn't helping Pete's problem; Lara had joked about the blisters on his hands, but any longer without being with Allie and he's have to start checking them for real.
"Hey," she smiled at the three of them, dropping her bag onto the arm chair by the door and then practically skipped over to Pete, leaning over the back of the sofa and wrapping her arms around his neck. "I've got a surprise for you," she told him, kissing his cheek.
"Ay, ay," Dave winked. "Start throwing out that burn cream, Dunham,"
Ignoring Allie's confused look and Lara's laugher; he stood up and pulled on his hat.
"I'm off," he winked at them. "I think Ike and Ned are about tonight," he told Pete. "Fuck knows where Swill is, he pulled some bird down the pub the other night and no one's seen 'im since,"
Given the Abbey was still a pile of rubble and ash on the corner of Deacon Street, the boys had made the almost impossible decision to start going down The Anchor pub up the road, luckily it was still in West Ham territory so they didn't have to worry about anything kicking off but it still didn't feel quite right. But then they'd been sneaking into the Abbey since they were 15…it was a home from home for most of the lads.
"I'll walk you out," Lara told him, reluctantly shoving herself up from the comfort of the sofa but knowing how much Pete and Allie deserved some time alone.
"So, are you going to guess?" Allie asked him, still smiling. "Or do you want me to give you a clue?"
"Right now," Pete shook his head, smirking wickedly at her. "I don't want either,"
"What are you-…" Allie frowned, slightly hurt by his lack of enthusiasm; a thought which she quickly pushed out of her head when he pulled her down and kissed her. He kissed her softly at first but then harder and deeper until she was leaning across him slightly, having to remind herself that all the things she wanted to do right now where damn near impossible given his condition.
"Pete," she groaned desperately against his mouth. "Jesus…"
Feeling himself start to lose control, he pulled back from her suddenly, cutting his loses before things went too far. Laying his head back on the sofa, he closed his eyes tightly and sighed.
"Shit," he whispered harshly, rubbing his hand over his eyes and laughing. "I don't know how much longer I can do this…"
"I know," she smiled sympathetically. "Y'know what's even more depressing is that when you finally are fit enough, between my hormones and your frustration its probably going to last all of 10 seconds,"
"You're a bit of an optimist, aren't you?" he laughed. "I was thinking more along the lines of 4,"
Giggling and walking around the sofa, she sat down on the coffee table across from him and gently rubbed his leg which was propped up on it.
"How's it feeling?" she asked, careful not to touch his knee. The stitches were due to come out on Friday and even though she knew the doctors knew what they were doing, she wasn't sure Pete was ready for it. The knee still looked swollen and slightly angry and she knew that he was secretly dreading the day when Gemma asked him to put weight on it.
"S'alright," he nodded. "I 'aven't 'ad to take any pain killers today, so that's a good sign, right?"
"Yeah," she smiled encouragingly. "You look a lot better, too." She reached out and touched his face. "You looked like shit before,"
"Cheers," he laughed.
"You know what I mean," Allie rolled her eyes. "So, come on," she rested her hands on his foot. "D'you wanna know where we're going?"
"Going?" he frowned. "What are you on about?"
Grinning at him, she bent down and started rummaging through her bag, finally pulling out a scarf and wrapping it round his neck. Frowning, Pete looked down at it, his heart racing when he saw his school logo along with Team Dunham written on it. Last year instead of being colour teams, Benjamin and Pete had thought it would be funny to get the boys to wear t-shirts with their teachers names on them, despite being unimpressed, the head teacher had allowed it on the grounds that Pete and Ben paid for it.
"Where'd you get this?" he asked her with a huge smile on his face.
"I went to see Ben this morning and asked that teacher who's running sports day this year…" she frowned and tapped her finger against her teeth. "Um, kind of large, hates me with a passion…"
"Cassie," Pete rolled his eyes, recalling all the times Allie would come to visit him after school and Cassie would practically run down the hall to the heads office and report her. Because Allie wasn't covered by any kind of school insurance, she was usually asked to leave, allowing Cassie to them attempt to flirt with him non stop.
"Yeah, her," Allie wrinkled her nose. "Well, I asked her if I could sneak you in for the day so what'd you say? You can see the boys and just…I don't know, have a day away from this place."
"I thought you were working today," Pete shook his head.
"Balls to that," she waved him off. "This is going to be way more fun,"
Smiling at her, Pete was reminded not for first time, why it was that he had fallen so in love with his girl.
"Alright," he nodded, getting excited. "How the fuck am I meant to get out of the house?" he laughed. "And as for fitting in your Porsche…"
"I borrowed Harry's jeep," she smiled. "I can chuck you in the back."
"Like a dog?" Pete raised an eyebrow.
"Exactly," she replied, making him laugh. "Come on," she stood up, holding out her hand and waiting for him to take it. "Let's go yell our arses off at a bunch of kids."
"Can you feel the metal in it?"
"What happens if you bend it? Can you try walking on it and see if it hurts?"
"'Course he can't, you idiot."
"Well, I don't know, do I?"
"Jake told me you fell off of a building,"
"No, I didn't. He's lying, Mr. Dunham,"
"Sir, when are you coming back? The sub teacher is crap,"
"And he smells of B.O."
Laughing at the eager faces crowded around where he was sat in his classroom, Pete felt a sudden rush of sadness, knowing that he wouldn't actually be back here again for a few months yet. He loved these boys and being away from them for so long was harder than he'd admit to anyone.
"Who told you I fell off a building?" he grinned, looking at Jake who already had mud on his face just from being outside and running around.
"I don't know," he blushed. "I heard it from someone in Mr. Ellis' class, they said you fell off Canary Warf,"
"You hear that?" he called over his shoulder as Allie walked into the room. "I fell off Canary Warf and all I got was a broken leg?"
"So that's what?" she smirked. "Six lives down and three to go?"
"Something like that," he winked at her.
"Hi, Allie," one of the boys piped up, all of them staring at her, trying to look as cool as possible. Hiding his grin, Pete knew that at the age of 12, the boys were at the stage were girls were no longer considered to be the devil and having a woman like Allie in the classroom with a bunch of hormonal almost teenagers was asking for trouble.
"Hey boys," she smiled, hopping onto one of the desks next to them.
"Are you still marrying her, Mr. Dunham?" Jake smirked.
"Yeah," Pete grinned. "Why? You looking to take her off me?"
The blonde boy blushed furiously and stared out of the window, scowling at his friends when they laughed and started elbowing him.
"Can we come to the wedding?" one of them asked.
"Sure," Allie answered. "You can be my bridesmaids,"
A groan rose from the crowd of boys making Pete laugh as he watched Allie nudge one of them with her shoulder, ruffling his hair; he couldn't wait to see her as a mum, she was going to be amazing at it.
"Look who it is," Benjamin called from the doorway. "Fresh from the asphalt outside Canary Warf,"
"So I hear," Pete rolled his eyes and pulled the man into a quick hug. "How's it going, mate?"
"Ay," Benjamin rolled his eyes. "Not half bad, brother. Didja hear about how the beautiful Miss Harding and myself managed to tag team Big Mama Cass into letting you attend today's prestigious ceremony?"
"Who's Big Mama Cass?" one of the boys mumbled.
"Miss Pearson," Jake answered. "You know," he stretched out his arms and puffed up his face, making the rest of the boys laugh.
"Right, you lot," Benjamin clapped his hands. "Get out there and start running because Team Ellis" he ignored the booing. "Have just kicked off a five-a-side so prepare to get your arses handed to you on a plate,"
Roaring, the boys charged out of the classroom, Jake stopping next to Allie and muttering something along the lines of, 'I like you're shirt' before running out with the rest of them.
"Ok, jailbait or not, he is becoming serious competition for you, Dunham," she pointed towards the door and laughed.
"Shit," Benjamin stared at her in mock horror. "I've heard of weird pregnancy cravings but an 11-year-old boy is pretty messed up…"
"Shut up," she laughed, shaking her head and then turning back to Pete. "You ready?" she asked.
Tugging on his Team Dunham scarf and winking at Benjamin, he picked up his crutches and hopped off of the desk onto his good foot.
"Fuck yeah," he laughed as Benjamin pulled on his Team Ellis scarf and stared at him menacingly. "Let's get this shit going,"
"Should I leave my number?"
Bovver looked up from where he was rummaging through his fridge, confident that he had one more beer left, wherever it might be. Looking at the seemingly nervous blonde as she stood next to his sofa in last night's clothes, the mark on her neck reminding him of what they had done last night.
"Do what you want," he told her with a shrug.
"It's just…" she bit her lip, trying not to look hurt. "You said you liked me,"
"Listen sweetheart," Bovver snorted, standing up straight and meeting her eyes. "Something you may or may not know about blokes it that they'll say more or less anything to a bird when she's got her hand down their boxers," he shook his head. "Leave your number if it makes you 'appy, just don't expect me to ring it,"
She stared at him open mouthed for a long moment, obviously not having expected that. Closing her mouth and nodding mutely, she picked up jacket from where it had been throw over the sofa last night and shoved her feet into her shoes, not saying another word as she pulled open his front door, leaving Bovver to go back to searching his fridge for the illusive beer.
"Alright, darlin'?" Swill grinned broadly at the blonde as she stormed past him and the boys, muttering something distinctly unlady like under her breath.
"Fuck me, Bov," he whistled, stepping into the flat and shaking his head. "Where'd you find 'er?"
"Some bar," Bovver replied nonchalantly as he gave up and slammed the door shut. "What're you lot doing 'ere?"
"You've been AWOL for almost a month, Bov," Ike shook his head. "We were worried,"
"Christ," Bov laughed. "It your time of the month or something? What the fucks gotten into you?"
"We're your mates, Bov," Dave told him firmly. "You can't just drop off the fucking radar for three weeks and not expect any of us to say anything."
"The Yank not with you?" he jerked his head towards the door. "I would 'ave thought these little get-in-touch-with-your-emotion-gay-boy meetings would 'ave been right up his street."
"He's not been around much," Swill shrugged. "You heard about Shannon leaving, didn't you?"
"Oh yeah," Bov rolled his eyes. "Great fucking loss that is, ain't it?"
"Mate, you're fucking wrecked," Dave snapped. "Look at the state of ya, you can barely fucking walk."
Not bothering to hide the empty vodka bottles on the living room table, Bov let his eyes drift over the pile of rejection letters he'd gotten from the job centre over the last few days and leant back against the kitchen counter.
"I'm fine," he muttered.
"No, you're not," Dave pressed. "For fuck sake, Bov this is us you're talking to, we're trying to help."
"Does Pete know you're here?" he snapped suddenly.
"What?" Swill frowned.
"Oh come on now, Simon," Bovver snorted. "You ain't exactly pretty but we both fucking know you ain't deaf,"
"Nah mate," Ned piped up. "Pete doesn't know we're here,"
"And what'd you reckon he'd say if he knew you was?" Bovver shrugged. "D'you reckon he'd ask you how I've been? Maybe even question why you didn't let him know so he could 'ave come round with a nice little plant for my windowsill?"
"Bov," Dave shook his head tiredly. "Cut the shit mate, its getting old,"
Bovver stared at them for a long moment and then shoved himself away from the counter, his light blue eyes flickering wildly about the room.
"I was there when Pete started this firm!" he shouted at them. "I was there when we took on our first meet and got the absolute shit kicked outta us, I was there when his old man died, I was there when he met Allie and I was there when Tommy Hatcher beat him within an inch of his fucking life!"
The last sentence came out as a scream and all the boys flinched, unmoving, some of them not even breathing, afraid to disturb the already fragile atmosphere in the room.
"But where the fuck is Pete?" he shouted, tears forming in his eyes as his voice cracked slightly. "He's my best mate and he's not…" collapsing down onto the armchair, he let his head drop into his hands and breathed hard.
"I fucked up," he told them, his voice much quieter now. "I fucked up everything, everything that I touch, that I love, that I care about falls to shit,"
"Bovver, come on, mate," Dave reasoned. "Look, we're all going down the pub tonight, come with us, yeah? Just for a few cheeky ones?"
"Just go, Dave," Bovver shook his head.
"Bov, don't be such a miserable cunt," Swill laughed. "It'll be a-…"
"I said, fuck off!" Bovver grabbed one of the empty vodka bottles off of the table and hurled it at them, narrowly missing Ned.
"Fuck about!" he shrieked, jumping away from the broken glass. "Are you off your fucking rocker, son? That could 'ave fucking killed me!"
Staring at Bovver for a second longer, Dave knew that they'd lost him; for now at least. He just needed to sort himself out and chances were that the GSE standing there staring at him as he obviously tried so hard not to lose control wasn't going to be helping.
"Come on, lads," he jerked his head towards the door. "We better head off if we wanna make the next train,"
"Oi," Ike hissed, grabbing his elbow as he went to walk back out of the door. "What about…?" he nodded towards Bov who was still sat there stoically staring at the shattered glass on the floor.
"He's not ready yet," Dave shook his head. "He'll follow us when he is,"
"Stop looking so smug you dirty, cheating bastard," Benjamin shook his head in disgust as he sat at the island in Allie's kitchen, nursing the same beer as he had an hour ago.
"What?" Pete looked up from his first place trophy and blinked at him innocently. "You feeling a little bitter, sweetheart?"
"Dunham, I've gone my entire 26 years of life without once punching a disabled person," he pointed at the crutches resting against the stool next to him and raised his eyebrows. "Don't make me break that record today,"
Laughing and taking a long sip of coke, Pete winked at him and tried not to start laughing again when he glanced down to where one of his boys had written "sucks" underneath Team Ellis on the front of his t-shirt.
"Holy shit," Allie emerged up from the small set of stairs which led to the wine cellar. "I think I just saw a spider the size of my head down there,"
Holding up a packet of salmon steaks in one hand and a pizza in the other, she raised an eyebrow at Pete. "What d'you fancy?"
"What pizza is it?" he narrowed his eyes trying to read.
"Meat feast," she wrinkled her nose figuring that Harry must have bought it because there was no way that she or Lara would subject themselves to that cholesterol fest. "Ugh, this is like Noah's Ark on a pizza base. There's like two of every animal,"
Pete and Ben both laughed loudly at her and shook their heads. Glancing up from reading the box, Allie saw the faint smile on his lips and sighed.
"You want the biblical pizza, don't you?" she shook her head.
"Yes," he nodded seriously. "Yes, I do."
Rolling her eyes and chucking it onto the counter, she switched on the AGA oven and the slight smell of burning from where Harry hadn't cleaned off the grill after making toast for breakfast filled the large kitchen.
"D'you fancy another beer?" she asked Ben noticing he'd finished. "You're more than welcome to stay for dinner as well,"
"Nah," he winked at her. "You're alright, lass, I've actually gone and got myself a date tonight,"
"Kept that one quiet, didn't you, you slag?" Pete frowned. "Who's the unlucky lady? Or is it lady-boy?"
"She," Benjamin emphasised. "is the sister of one of the boys at school, you must 'ave seen here, the lass with the wavy red hair?"
"Aw, mate," Pete nodded in approval. "Nice going, from where I was sitting it looked like she a fucking great set of-…"
"I'm pregnant, not deaf," Allie laughed over her shoulder as she bent down to slot the pizza into the oven.
"I was gonna say earrings," Pete told her weakly.
"Were you fuck!" she laughed and playfully slapped his shoulder. "Although credit where credit's due, the girl did have it going on in upper body region,"
"Atta girl," Benjamin winked at her as he pulled on his coat. "See, now if it doesn't work out with me and her, I can give her your number and Pete and I can just watch and-…"
"Bye, Ben," Allie laughed, shaking her head.
"Yeah, sod off you perv," Pete grinned.
"Oh, come off it, Tiny Tim," the Scotsman pointed at him. "As if you'd say not to that,"
Giving them a final wave, he walked through the large foyer of the house, running his fingers along the length of the grand piano as he always did and yanked open the large, oak front door, jumping slightly when he came face to face with an unfamiliar man and woman.
"Jesus!" he laughed. "You scared the shit outta me,"
"Sorry," the woman smiled tightly and glanced into the house behind him. "I'm looking for Pete Dunham, is he here?"
"Ah, yeah, he's in the kitchen," stepping aside, he leant back into the house and yelled, "Ay, you've got more visitors," before nodding at the unresponsive bloke next to him and jogging over to where his car was parked next to the water fountain.
"Ugh," Allie moaned, pulling away from Pete's mouth and trying to ignore that look in his eyes. "Probably a good thing," she chuckled, gesturing to the state of them. Given they'd only begun kissing about ten seconds ago, Pete's sweater was unzipped and his hands were under her shirt.
Pulling away from him completely, she fixed her hair and made her way over to the doorway which led out into the hall, stopping suddenly when two figures appeared there, staring at her intently.
"Uh, hello," she frowned, slightly pissed off that whoever these people were they felt they could just stroll into her home. "Can I help you?"
"Hi," the woman nodded in return. "I'm detective Ruth Powel and this is detective Marcus Ainsworth," she held out an ID card to Allie who merely stared at it, her heart racing in her chest. What the hell was this about?
"Are you Pete Dunham?" she called over Allie's shoulder to where the man in question was sat, trying to ignoring the nervous sweat pooling in his hands.
"Yeah," he nodded curtly. "That's me,"
"I'm sorry to disturb you," she told him, sounding almost genuine. "But I'm afraid I need you to come with us,"
"What?" Allie's head snapped back to face them. "You can't just show up here and arrest my fiancé without a reason,"
"I'm sorry, Miss?" she trailed off.
"Harding," Allie told her. "Allie Harding,"
"Right, well I can assure you Miss Harding that no one is getting arrested," she shook her head. "What we need from Mr Dunham is help identifying someone,"
"What?" Pete shook his head.
"A body was recovered yesterday morning in Bethnal Green," she looked him in the eye, the next words out of her mouth sending a chill up his spine. "We have evidence to believe that it may be that of a Thomas Hatcher."
Allie turned back to look at Pete, her eyes wide with fear and a little relief as they met his.
Oh, shit.
"I can come in with you," Allie spoke quietly, glancing down the long gray corridor. This place was depressing enough, why did they have to paint it gray?
"No way," Pete shook his head, gently running his hand up her back; she was holding it together but he could feel her shaking. "You're not going in there, just stay out 'ere, alright, this'll only take a second,"
She nodded in understanding, unable to keep from jumping slightly when the door opened and Ruth stepped out.
"We're ready for you now," she told the softly.
Pete nodded and bent down kissing Allie quickly before securing his hands around his crutches and following Marcus back into the room. The door shut and Allie shuddered, not wanting to think about what was going on in there.
"If you're cold we have an espresso machine," Ruth offered her. "It tastes horrendous but it'll warm you up."
"Oh, no thanks," Allie smiled gratefully at her. "I'm not allowed coffee at the moment,"
"Why?" Ruth frowned, pouring a cup for herself.
"Oh, I'm pregnant," Allie told her, watching as the woman's usually stony face softened considerably.
"How far along?" she asked.
"Only two months," Allie nodded.
"Still," Ruth gently touched her arm. "I'm sorry, this can't be easy for you,"
"It's not," she sighed, looking back at the dull metal door which Pete had disappeared through. "But then again, its not me I'm worried about."
"We've not been able to get hold of any family members," Pete gulped as he followed Marcus and the pathologist over to a table on which lay a large sheet covered lump. The coldness in the room was almost pleasant given how hot his body felt; he kept swiping at his forehead, expecting to find it drenched with sweat, but it wasn't.
"So we talked to Cagney and Lacey here and they were convinced that you'd be the man for it," the slightly puny looking man, stepped away from the table, oblivious to the fact that Pete and Marcus had been made even more uncomfortable by his warped attempt at humour. "Now, what you're looking for are any kind of personal id's…tattoos, birthmarks, moles, anything like that,"
"Won't I be able to tell from just looking at him genrally?" Pete winced at how loud his voice sounded in the small room.
"There were um," Marcus cleared his throat, stepping in before the awkward pathologist could. "There were extensive facial wounds. Even though the best was done to clear them up, it's still…"
"I get it," Pete interrupted, already feeling sick.
"Are we ready then?" The pathologist asked, looking back and forth in between them.
Pete nodded mutely, holding his breath as the sheet was pulled back, exposing the body to the harsh light coming from the lamp directly above them.
Pete's eyes widened and his stomach churned as he glanced down at the huge gashes tearing across the face, the bruising on his chest and neck making him look alien. He could see the stitches which had been used to hold his left ear in place, his eyes sunken back in his head, the stitches stretching across his jaw, forehead and cheek making him feel ill.
Resisting the urge to reach out and touch him, make sure it was real, Pete felt tears burn his eyes and forced himself to look back at Marcus.
"Its not Hatcher," he practically whispered.
"Are you sure about this, Pete?" Marcus pressed with desperation in his eyes. "How d'you know?"
"I know that's not Tommy Hatcher," he swallowed hard, his eyes drifting back to the young face on the table; he could understand why they had suspected it was Tommy, the wounds to his face made him almost unrecognisable.
"Because that lad there," he nodded to the table and felt a tear drip down his face, not bothering to wipe it away. "Is Lee Esdon,"
SO...what did you make of that then? Come on, leave a review...all the cool kids are doing it... ;)