I have been overwhelmed by readers' response to this and yes I will keep going. One of the reasons I started writing this is that in the midst of the coronavirus outbreak I'm finding it really hard to update Breaking Through which is set in a pre-pandemic world. Everything we do is now so governed by this scourge.

Anyway, I hope everyone is well and safe. Please take care. A huge thank you to any of you out there working on the frontline of this—without your incredible and selfless dedication things would be far worse.

Thanks for the reviews, favs and follows. And of course, please review—you can see feedback inspires me to write!

…..

Holly stood as if frozen. Gail tried to think of what to say. She actually had a lot of options, not least the question of what Holly was doing back in Toronto but Gail found her vocal cords were as immobile as Holly appeared to be. Rodney cleared his throat, filling the silence that had stretched a beat too long so that it tipped from genuine surprise into awkwardness.

'Welcome back,' Gail finally found her voice. 'I mean, are you back?'

'Why aren't you wearing a mask?' Holly asked, ignoring Gail's question.

Holly sounded neither annoyed or concerned, if anything her tone was detached. Perhaps she'd hoped to avoid Gail on what must surely be her first day back at the morgue. How had that happened without Gail hearing anything on the grapevine? Gossip normally spread around 15 like, like, well like herpes Gail decided just as she realised Holly was waiting for a reply.

'Um mask shortage. It's more important health workers get them.'

'Here,' Holly rummaged in her forensic kit—still a bright red lunchbox (which Gail found oddly comforting)—and fished out a mask.

'Um, don't you need it,' Gail said, not quite reaching out.

'It's a spare. This is my crime scene and I say put it on.'

'Your crime scene huh,' Gail arched an eyebrow. Why the hell was she trying to flirt when Holly was standing there looking stern?

'Take the mask.'

'Okay, okay,' Gail grumbled as she reached for it.

'And make sure you fit it properly. It's useless if it's not tight enough.'

'Yeah, yeah I know how to put a mask on, Holly. Are you worried this guy,' Gail nodded in the direction of the body, 'has Covid-19?'

'Standard protocol under the current circumstances. That's why we're wearing full protective suits.'

'Yeah, I know. It's not my first rodeo since the pandemic. I've seen Rodney, um Dr Melham, cut a dashing figure in his PPE at quite a number of crime scenes.'

Rodney swallowed. Holly tilted her head to one side to regard Gail. Swathed as she was in protective gear, it was impossible to see if Holly was smiling. If anything, the whole scene looked quite surreal, like Rodney and Holly should be attempting a moon landing instead of standing next to a corpse in a grimy alleyway on a crisp Toronto morning.

'This looks straightforward,' Rodney ventured, indicating the body. Gail had learnt he was more comfortable discussing work than even the most banal detail of his personal life. 'Blunt force trauma to the back of the head. No sign of a weapon in the immediate area.'

'Great, we can send the rookies dumpster diving,' came a voice from behind Gail. She heard Frankie rub her hands together gleefully.

'Frankie,' Gail tried not to grimace as she acknowledged her colleague.

'Hey Peck, sorry about that booty call text the other night. Man, it stinks here.' Frankie screwed up her face in distaste. 'And where'd you get the mask."

'Um Holly, I mean Dr Stewart had a spare.'

'You got a helper today Dr Melham,' Frankie drawled, seeming to notice he and Holly for the first time. The way she spoke, it was like Holly was the work experience kid.

Rodney swallowed again. Frankie had always intimidated him. 'Ahh-aah, D-D-Doc-Doctor Stewart is actually my-my boss,' he stammered.

'Oh,' Frankie drew out the sound to indicate understanding. She slowly appraised Holly from head to toe, stopping at Holly's ankles where the legs of her protective suit were tucked into purple coloured plastic booties. 'Nice shoes,' she sniggered. 'Doctor Stewart. Doctor Holly Stewart. Now where have I heard that name before.' She paused and then began to smirk as she looked from Holly to Gail. 'Oh, I know,' she clicked her fingers. 'You're the one who popped Gail's lesbian cherry.'

'I never told her that,' Gail said hastily. Her cheeks felt uncomfortably hot.

Holly didn't reply. Beaneath his mask and goggles Gail could see Rodney's face was as red as hers. Frankie smirked again. It seemed like her life's mission was to make people uncomfortable.

'You are?' Holly asked. Gail had never heard her sound so haughty. Even Elaine would have been impressed.

'Detective Frankie Anderson,' Frankie said and then winked, 'at your service.'

Holly said nothing.

'I'd shake your hand but these days it's not socially acceptable,' Frankie said, not in the least deterred by Holly's coolness.

'Nothing about you is socially acceptable, Anderson,' Gail said. She could have sworn Rodney suppressed a small guffaw.

'You really need to get laid, Peck,' Frankie made a sympathetic face as if she really did care about Gail's wellbeing.

Holly shifted her gaze back to Gail, which made her cheeks heat up all over again.

'Okay, I'll go round up the uniforms to search for the weapon,' Frankie said, seamlessly switching into work mode. 'Peck, you go with forensics.' With that she strode back down the alleyway.

'The morgue creeps her out,' Gail explained. Rodney nodded in agreement. It was about the only thing he had over Frankie.

'Whereas you like it there,' Holly said.

'It has certain attractions,' Gail tried for a nonchalant shrug.

'Yeah,' Holly tilted her head to one side again.

'Yeah, Rodney and I are locked in a progressive game of Pandemic.'

Holly laughed. 'Oh, that's you. I should have guessed.'

'Why?' Gail challenged, feeling some of her sass return.

'For starters I don't believe Dr Melham is that macabre, are you?' she asked Rodney.

'Um,' he looked down shyly.

A few weeks ago—had it only been a few weeks, it felt like a lifetime—when the lockdowns were first coming into force, Gail was at the morgue waiting with Rodney on some results when quite out of the blue he had commented that people who played Pandemic could probably do a better job of containing the spread of the virus than most world leaders. Gail had never heard Rodney be quite so forthright and it led her to inquire if he owned a copy of the game.

Playing Pandemic while actually living through one appealed to Gail's perverse sense of humour. She was aware, though, that the sight of the board game on Rodney's desk had unnerved some of his colleagues. 'Know your enemy,' Gail had said when he suggested it might be best to remove the game. 'At least, you and I will be prepared, whereas those others,' she paused then and shook her head sadly.

'If you're lucky we might let you join in,' Gail now told Holly, 'but you can't be the scientist. That's me.'

'Big of you,' Holly said, 'a scientist huh.'

'Yep,' Gail popped the 'p'. 'Got a problem with that Doctor Stewart?'

Holly shook her head and then asked, 'Have you played Pandemic 're the disease and the aim is to annihilate the human race.'

'Under our stewardship, earth is doomed anyway, isn't it Rodney. America has been decimated.'

'Well, you did move all the research stations to Canada,' Rodney pointed out.

Gail grinned fiendishly. Then down the alleyway came Frankie's voice, loud and in that moment more grating than usual. 'Oi Peck,' she shouted.

Gail jumped as though Frankie was standing beside her and bellowing in her ear. 'I better go,' she said, glancing back to see Frankie gesticulating urgently.

'See you at the morgue then,' Holly said, and this time Gail was certain she was smiling.

'It's a dat—' Gail started to say but stopped just short of completing the word. 'I mean, I'll be there, of course. You know it's my job and Frankie hates the morgue soo,' she said in a rush, once more finding herself blushing.

Holly laughed, and it was that laugh Gail remembered, that she would in fact recall at random moments or hear as she woke from a dream of Holly, always Holly. A laugh full of warmth and amusement and beneath that, at a deeper, richer level, a delight which Gail had always hoped was reserved for her.

It made Gail think of languid summer days when it was impossible to have a care in the world, swimming out to the island opposite her parent's cabin, catching her breath as she took in the grandeur of the forest stretching before her; of a roaring fire on a winter's night; of the little kitten with which she was entrusted as a child; of bees in the lavender outside her grandmother's kitchen on a fine spring day with the smell of freshly baked bread drifting through the open door; and of Elaine hugging her tight when Gail must have been no more than four.

It was belonging. It was safety. It was wonder and joy, and that sense—no that gift—of being enveloped in care, and it was love. And it was a life she had known only in snatches until Holly held out the possibility of all those things. All those things for which, in Holly's absence, her heart had never stopped aching.

'I'm counting on it, Detective,' Holly said.

…..