Morse meets Peter Jakes at the train station heading to Heathrow Airport and then on to Indiana.
"Jakes!" Morse calls out.
"Morse. Glad to see you before kipping off to the States. It's corn season and they are waiting for my expert opinion."
Morse smiles and nods. "How are your wife and child?"
"Best mistake I ever made. We named our daughter Hope. She's a sweet little pea. Didn't know how happy I could be. Farming is safe and boring, but I only fight with the chickens to get into the coop. Not one fight with a criminal. Imagine that, huh?"
"Hmm. Jakes, thanks for guarding Miss Thursday hospital."
"No need to say thanks. Besides, you brought the bastards from Blenheim Vale down. The boys, all of us, we were able to move on. Freedom from the silence. You gave us that and did time for your troubles."
The train whistles interrupts their discussion.
"Morse, if you've found someone in Joan…Don't wait. Grab your happiness."
The conductor calls "All aboard for Heathrow Express!"
Jakes and Morse shake hands. "Morse. Stop thinking and just go." At that Jakes hops on the train, closing the second class door behind him.
The train whistle blows again and it shakes free the memory of their first meeting. He and Joan Sam were in the dining room at the Thursday's home. Joan asked him "What do they call you then?" She was so confident, like a detective inspector grilling a con. Her hair was loose and long, framing her face and her stance demanded attention. He replied "Morse." And she said "What kind of name is that?" She was indominatable and beautiful. Did he know then what he knows now?
Morse starts walking to the carpark, then breaks into a jog. He has to get back to the hospital. He jumps into the Jag and drives, all the while hoping Joan is breaking out of the coma.
He runs up the stairs to Joan's room, but the nurse stops him. "Detective Constable Morse! Wait - I have to tell you. Her condition has changed. Wait!" Morse rushes around the nurse and pushes the door open, terrified that he has lost her.
Joan is sitting upright in the bed, smiles and says "Where have you been?"
"To hell and back."
"I seem to have taken the same path."
"You're awake."
"Yes."
"Can I sit next to you? Are you well enough?"
"Yes."
Morse stands looking at Joan, afraid that it is an illusion.
"Morse. Come here. What are you waiting for?"
"That."
"Well, out with it. What are you waiting for?"
Morse walks toward her saying "You. The indomnitable, beautiful, direct, alive..."
He sits On the bed, weaves his fingers into her hair and quotes Yeats:
"Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."
His lips descend on Joan's, and she moans in response. Frustrated with the distance between them, Morse pulls himself onto the bed and, at the same time, reaches behind her to loosen her robe, but he can't find the ends. She bursts into laughter reaches for his shirt, unbuttoning it. Morse leans in and runs his lips along her neck, catching her earlobe between his teeth. She turns her face to his and kisses him reveling in the moment, nothing holding them back, life back to relative normalcy. As he pulls her lower back toward him, they hear the sound of the door opening...
Morse jumps off the bed and attempts to adjust his shirt. The young nurse adverts her eyes, and says "I don't seem to be needed here, but thought you might like to know that Mr. and Mrs. Thursdays have arrived. They are speaking with the doctor. I'll go and let them know you are awake, but not quite ready to receive visitors..." The nurse departs, blushing profusely. Morse, about to exit, turns and looks at Joan who giggles, making Morse break into quiet, suppressed laughter. He looks back at her and sees the joy etched on her face. "I love you," he says, sneaking into the hallway, not wanting to be seen. As the door closes, Joan lifts her hands to her face, blushes, smiles, and gives an inaudible squeal of delight.