Apologies for the hiatus; I've been flat out. I didn't get either of my Christmas fics finished, either. Oh well. Maybe by next year I will. On the plus side, I've got the next two chapters of this fic pretty much fully written so I shouldn't be too long updating for a while. A bit more plot development in this one, and some more early-stage hints of Joetina. Enjoy. Hope everyone is doing well and is safe as well.

8

The penance of Joey Boswell

'Prayers.'

Nellie's announcement hardly seemed necessary tonight; Joey and Billy's hands were already folded; there was nobody else to remind. It was bloody strange with all the others gone. True, Aveline had been married a while by now, but she'd spent so little time at Oswald's and so much time sulking over here that it was still a shock to Joey's system not find her at the table. Adrian was with Irenee, in their quirky little flat (Joey had mustered the courage to go and visit them, but he'd only been able to stomach a short stay. The sight of the two of them, so sickeningly happy, not even quarrelling over Adrian's questionable arty décor, had brought the familiar corkscrew twists of pain to his chest. That should have been me and Roxy by now.) And of course Jack was over the road, whatever turbulent quarrels he'd currently been engaged in with Leonora temporarily forestalled by joy now they were having a child.

Joey had always wanted a child – had always dreamed that someday, he might hold in his arms a little amalgamation of himself and Roxy. Oddly, in these fantasies, he could never picture Roxy with the child in her arms herself; she was always somewhere else in the image in his mind, but she was there, and there was no doubt in Joey's mind that if he were to have a family, he would have wanted it to be with Roxy, the only woman he'd ever loved.

So much for that.

It had taken his shaky legs twice as long as normal to propel himself back over the road after hearing his brother's news, though he prided himself he'd made a good effort to conceal his envy from Jack and Leonora.

It was a small mercy Connie had made herself scarce for once. The last thing Joey could have coped with right now was a display of youthful lust opposite him at the table.

'Am I in time for prayers?'

'Oswald!' Joey didn't quite feel up to being cheery, but he gave it his best shot, plastering a false smile across his gob as a familiar moustachioed face emerged around the door. 'How's the patient today?'

'Oh, she's sulking,' Oswald shook his head as he took a seat beside Joey. 'This bedrest is bringing out the worst in her, I'm afraid. Every hour on the hour she's lamenting how all this lying about will make her double in size and that'll be the end of what's left of her figure!'

'Oh, Aveline! My little girl! Clamped to her bed and suffering!' Nellie's voice had already begun its octave climb, her hands fluttering across her forehead and shoulders as she Crossed herself. 'Left to inflate! What happens to a person when they can't move around?! Her legs'll forget how to work!'

Joey's hand, all by itself, began to move in his Mam's direction.

'I'm sure things will be all right, Mrs Boswell,' he was beaten to the punch by the smooth posh lilt of his brother-in-law.

Oswald was leaning around Joey, his own hand on Nellie's shoulder, sending a strange feeling through the pit of Joey's stomach.

He'd wanted peace, yes.

The idea of being replaced didn't quite sit well with him.

Joey squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, playing with his dinner, berating himself for his own hypocrisy. This was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? To be allowed to be a human being, a man with his own life and needs, not on-call for every minor upset.

Not that he had much of a life to live, though, he thought dejectedly, tears accumulating against his will. His Dad had been taking all the shifts at the shop, and Roxy had –

'Aw 'ey – our Joey's upset!'

'Billy!' Nellie snapped before he could get any further. 'You leave our Joey alone!'

'Oh, right, right!' Billy gave a clumsy smile, tapping his finger a bit too unsubtly against his nose. 'Fragile.'

'Yes, Billy,' Nellie turned on him, a vicious edge in her voice. 'Fragile! You know what that means, don't you?'

'I was fragile when Julie divorced me,' Billy insisted petulantly. 'And none o' you lot let me go around and be fragile, did yer!'

Joey waited for Adrian to join in the fray, remind Billy that during that time he had acted far from fragile, and that the entire household had had to listen to thunderous sobbing and shouting …but no such interjection came. Not that it mattered much – Billy was on his feet anyway.

'And I 'ad a baby that got stolen from me, didn't I, and none of you cared, did yer! You none of yer cared that MY CHILD– '

'Joey, will you stop – ' his Mam faltered. 'Never mind. You're all right, love.'

Joey's blood was running cold, a strange itch under his skin he didn't quite understand. He had to get out of here.

It was Friday night. And if he couldn't cope being here just now, well, he might as well make the most of it somehow.

'Right, then,' he announced, feeling a bit hollow as he said it, tossing his napkin aside even though he hadn't eaten. 'I'm off out.'

'Out?! We haven't said – ' and then Nellie's hysteria was suppressed with some force, and she pulled out a lukewarm smile. 'That's all right, love. You go out if you need.'

God, she was trying, but Joey could see it was a struggle. This was going to take some time to adjust to – hence why he had to force himself to go, just to make sure they all got used to his new, more independent lifestyle – himself included.

'Where?' Billy demanded.

Joey smiled fiercely. 'None of your business.'

'Why?'

'Just because I can, sunshine,' Joey said, a strange, wry smile on his face he didn't really feel. 'Just – because – I – can.'

And he'd walked very slowly out to his Jag, savouring the freedom of it – although that freedom, tinged with an ambivalent emotion he couldn't quite name, didn't sit as right as he'd imagined.

Now Joey was out, he had no idea what to do. He didn't actually have plans. He had no jobs lined up; they'd tapered off since he started at the Place of Nonpoisonous Substances, too tired and dirty after full days there to work at night as well, slowly losing his old contacts and his reputation.

He ended up buying himself a pint of Guinness out of sheer boredom. God, was this what life was going to be now? Moping around drinking? If he let himself sit and think too much, Roxy lurked in the corners of his mind, a taunting ghost of the past, turning on her heel and stalking out of their elopement again and again. Every sip of his beer seemed to drag his spirits down further. He pushed his glass away, instead letting his eyes flick around the room and trying to find something among the sputters of activity around him worth watching.

Happy couples in his peripheral vision intensified the tear pinpricks in his eyes. Blokes around his age having a laugh with their mates had him seeing shades of green – how long was it since he'd seen any of his friends? Years, perhaps. He didn't even know what they were doing these days, let alone whether a phone call to find out would be welcome. Family gatherings gave him a resurgence of the strange feeling he'd experienced seeing Oswald in his place – an odd sort of redundancy, a downside to his newfound freedom, a cloud diminishing the silver lining of his Mam's attempts to consider his needs.

God, it was hopeless. Better chuck it in before he found himself back in the mires of a few days ago.

Joey had made up his mind to give up and go home when an attractive woman seated at a high table caught his eye.

You know, son, it wouldn't hurt to have some fun. Take your mind off everything. Get back in there.

Not that he'd ever really been able to do casual fun. Joey preferred, when it came to women, to either be in or out, not drifting in some sort of limbo of one-night stands. That wasn't to say he hadn't tried a couple of times. The last one, a woman whom he'd taken to the Adelphi under the name Mister Roxy, had made comments about his sleeping habits and demanded a champagne breakfast, and once he'd woken up enough to realise what he'd done, Joey had felt about ready to spontaneously combust with shame.

Still, how much luck had he had recently on the relationship front? Lady Bowford had shown no sign she reciprocated the interest he'd thought had been there; Roxy had crushed and mangled what was left of his heart. Might as well take a different approach.

Something wasn't right, though. That woman was awfully familiar…

It took a moment for him to recognise her. Her hair was done differently, she wasn't as buttoned up as he was used to seeing; even her posture was different, chin resting on her hand, slouching slightly rather than sitting rigid behind her counter poised for an argument; her face seemed different too, thoughtful rather than irritated.

God, he'd known Martina was beautiful – he just hadn't realised how beautiful she could be. Take her out of those starchy shirts, do her up a bit nicer and wipe that grim expression off her face and she was drop-dead gorgeous. It knocked him off-kilter a little, seeing her like that.

Nonetheless, there went that idea. Martina would never agree to a bit of fun, anyway. Not with him, not given their working relationship, and especially not given he had, whether she'd forgiven him or not, been pretty awful to her not one week ago.

He wouldn't mind talking to her, though. Joey still wanted to make it up to her, after all – perhaps buying her a glass of something might make some headway in the direction of amends for Scotland. And, though he'd already ruled out a night with her, she was looking too pretty for him to resist getting a closer look at her – even if that was all he got.

He observed her for a while, wondering vaguely if he'd catch her eye as she got up to leave, if he could toss a witty comment her way, see what reaction he could get from her.

Martina, however, didn't seem to be showing signs of leaving anytime soon. She simply sat there, nearly an hour ticking by, completely lost in her own thoughts.

Sod it.

Joey bit the bullet, went over and pulled out the stool opposite hers.

'Greetings!'

She didn't look up. 'Mister Boswell.'

'You're lookin' very forlorn there, sunshine.'

Martina shook her head, took another sip of her drink.

She hadn't invited him to sit down, but Joey sat anyway.

'Mind if I join?'

'Don't you have anythin' better to do than pester me?'

'Well, you need talk, Martina,' Joey teased. 'Havin' enough spare time on your hands to traipse up to Scotland to pester…'

'All right, all right,' Martina raised her hands. 'Heaven forbid you ever let me live that down. Siddown.'

'Already am.'

He was treated to an eye-roll, but it lacked its usual lustre. She wasn't in a good mood, and Joey felt the urge to probe further.

'What's up yours, then?'

Martina was visibly debating not answering him, or perhaps arguing with him, but instead she sighed, shoulders descending, and rested her cheek on her hand.

'Very dull night.'

She didn't look bored, though. She looked mildly pissed off, and that intensified his curiosity.

'Oh?' Joey cocked his head to one side. It was none of his business, of course, but it was either sitting here and talking to Martina or going home and struggling to cope in a world that didn't need him anymore, listening to how he was 'fragile' and having no idea how to properly grieve the destruction of his and Roxy's short-lived engagement.

Stay here. Weasel out of Martina what was wrong. That was the obvious choice. He still felt he owed her as well, a shred of guilt kicking around for how he'd behaved towards her in Scotland.

It occurred to Joey as he sat back in his chair, waiting for her to elaborate, that she was dressed to impress – red, off-the-shoulder crushed velvet dress both setting off the pink in her cheeks and revealing more of her neck and shoulders than Joey had seen, reminding him of what he'd glimpsed of her in Scotland, tempting him all of a sudden to reach over and touch some of that exposed skin. She had bangles on each wrist, dangly earrings, heavier makeup than normal, big voluminous curls in her hair – and Joey realised in a sudden burst of clarity what was wrong with her.

'Who was he, and what did 'e do?'

Martina looked up slowly from the glass of wine she was toying with.

'How'd you know?'

'I have a sixth sense.'

Another eye-roll, this one a bit more up to Martina standards, with just a hint of smirk in there.

'And clearly you didn't tart yourself up just on the off-chance I might wander in.'

The smirk curved immediately into a scowl.

'Shifty?' Joey pushed.

'No.'

'Who, then?'

Martina shook her head, her earrings swinging. 'Is there a reason for this game of twenty questions, or did you just fancy nosin' into my life because you're bored?'

'I don't know, sweetheart. Was there a reason you came up to Scotland to nose into my life, or were you just –'

'All right!' Martina squeaked. She looked agitated now, and Joey felt a little flicker of guilt at having pushed her buttons. He was trying to make amends, after all, not create more grievances.

'Calm down, sweetheart,' Joey reached over, rubbing her shoulder (ignoring the fact that he'd secretly been hoping for an excuse to, because that bare skin was too lovely to resist). 'I'm only windin' you up. I already told you, you did me a favour.'

Her mouth twisted, her shoulder coming up to shrug his hand off, and then she sighed. 'All right. I was fixed up, if you must know. He was a friend of Sylvia's.'

Joey frowned at the unfamiliar name. 'Who's Sylvia?'

Martina gave him a strange look. 'Counter next to mine?'

'Doesn't ring a bell.'

'She-sits-at-the-counter-next-to-mine,' Martina repeated, annoyed again. 'She's dealt with you and your sordid little stories before. I don't know how many more bells I can ring for yer.'

'I still can't remember which one she is,' Joey said teasingly albeit truthfully. 'All those DSS ladies are exactly the same. Only one interestin' enough to remember her name is you.'

Martina's mouth started to drop open.

'That was supposed to be a compliment, by the way.'

'Was it.'

'Well, of course, sweetheart! It's no fun turnin' up ready to fight for me fam-i-ly's mere pittances, gearin' meself up for a battle, only to have some daft bird with no personality say yes Mister Boswell, sir, and give me whatever I want on a platter. It dulls the excitement. At least with you I've got to have me wits about me, don't I?'

'You know, I don't know what to make of you, sometimes, Mister Boswell. You come out with comments like that and I've no idea what you want from me…or what you're up to.'

Joey chuckled.

'So this friend of, er…' the name had already escaped him.

'Sylvia,' Martina growled.

'Sylvia,' Joey echoed, knowing it was going to leave his brain as soon as this conversation was over, 'what happened?'

'Not a lot,' she exhaled heavily. 'We had dinner, he was an obnoxious bastard, I made an excuse and came 'ere to try and drown out the memory with alcohol.' She peered at Joey, realising he was waiting for her to go on.

'The end.'

'Why'd you go out with 'im anyway?'

'Well, it's not as if I 'ad anything better to do, is it?' Martina sounded bitter now, and Joey startled a little. 'What with my empty days and all.'

'Eh, I didn't mean that. Really I didn't. I was in a bad mood, and you were in firin' range.'

'No, you were right, as it goes. I'm thirty-two, I'm not married, only ever seem to meet variations of Shifty when I do meet people, and I work in a dead-end job fendin' off scroungers, so I can't even pretend I'm focussin' on any sort of career. I don't have anything better to do with me life than let me friends set me up and stalk Boswells abroad. All I've got to look forward to is another stretch of grey blanket in front of me, as far as I can see.'

Another heavy sigh, those uncovered shoulders going up and down, and Joey wanted to touch them again, wondered if comfort was a good enough excuse.

Sod it. He did it, and thankfully she didn't seem too bothered.

'Eh, don't be like that.' He pushed it a little, letting his hand linger a bit longer than he should have. She felt nice.

'If I recall correctly, you were like that a week ago. You were resolute on living in an 'otel for the rest of your life because you couldn't face up to your future either.'

'I was just left at the altar, not forgettin'. Humiliated by the only woman I ever loved.'

'All right, all right, you win that one.'

It was nice to bring it out into the open like that. All the hurt. Joey dragged out a bit more.

'I'm thirty-four, I still live at home, for nearly ten years the reason for me existence has been my family, takin' care of them, only it got too much and I went off at them and now…all of a sudden, they don't need me anymore. And I wanted a bit of independence but now I've got it… I feel a bit redundant. Careful what you wish for, eh?'

Martina shook her head. 'I'm never gonna beat you in the sob-story stakes, am I?'

'You gave it a damn good try, sweetheart, I'll give you that.' Joey picked up his empty glass and stood, reluctantly withdrawing his hand from her shoulders. 'Fancy another?'

'It's kind of you, Mister Boswell, but no. I feel a bit sick, to be honest.'

'That bad, was he?' Joey teased.

She shrugged. 'Didn't eat much. And I can't drink on an empty stomach.'

'Fair enough.' An impulse came over Joey. 'I daresay I'd be a better dinner companion. Would you like to have a meal with me tomorrow?'

'What?' Watching her jump in her seat almost made up for the rest of today, strengthening Joey's resolve to see it through.

'Dinner? Or lunch, if you prefer. I'm not up to anything tomorrow. And I do owe you one, after all, given you got me out of a rut and I treated you very badly.'

'And I told you that was forgiven. What's the reason for this grovelling, Mister Boswell?'

'Seducing you a good enough reason?' Joey said blithely.

Martina's cheeks were slowly shading into the same colour as her dress.

'Your face! You do know the more you react to me teasin' you, the more I'm gonna do it, don't you? Little tip.'

'You mean if I can manage not to react to your enraging tales of woe and inappropriate comments when I'm sittin' at me counter tryin' to get through the day … there's a small chance you might give up and shut that gob of yours?'

'I didn't say that, did I?'

Her lips pursed into a little line, and Joey laughed.

'I said I'd stop teasin' you. But I don't think that's ever gonna happen – you still can't stop reactin', can you?' Pushing it even further, he reached for her scowling face and pinched her cheek.

'Don't think I won't hurt you, Mister Boswell. I'm not bound by regulations in 'ere.'

Joey's sides were beginning to hurt. 'You can't! You can't stop reactin', can you?'

'If I had wanted to have dinner with you, I wouldn't now!'

'Oh, sweetheart,' Joey said, his face now aching from his laughing fit. He couldn't remember how long it'd been since he'd felt this cheerful – a part of him guilty it was from deliberately annoying Martina – and he wanted to prolong it for as long as possible, lest his thoughts wander in the direction of Roxy again. He reached out to offer an apologetic squeeze to Martina's shoulder.

'Simmer down, won't you? I wasn't tryin' to offend you, you know.'

Martina's face softened. 'It's hard to tell with you, sometimes.'

'Come on,' Joey lifted his hand from her shoulder, putting it together with his other one as if pleading. 'On me. I owe you one, I told you.' He paused, examining the hesitant expression on her face. Clearly she was weighing it up – if she'd been determined to turn him down she would have already, such was her blunt way of operating.

Joey pushed a little harder, holding his hand out to her now.

'Nothing untoward, I promise. Just friendly, all above board.'

'You're not gonna go away until I agree to this, are you?'

'What do you think, sunshine?'

Martina shook her head, but there was a hint of gentle smile hovering around her mouth though.

'All right, Mister Boswell. You've worn me down. We'll do lunch. Midday tomorrow; I don't think I trust you at night. Now be off with yer. I'm about ready for my bed. I wanna go home.'

'May I escort you?'

'Are you gonna actually take me there? Or are you gonna dump me on the doorstep of the DSS and make me find me own way again?'

'Look, I'm sorry about that …'

'I know, I know, you've played your sad record and flagellated yourself in front of me before.' She took the hand Joey was still insistently proffering with hers. It was small, soft, fingers a bit shorter than Roxy's, fingernails a bit longer and a bit more brightly painted than he usually liked on a woman, and he curled his own digits around it, feeling oddly happy in spite of himself.

Martina suddenly frowned at him, something occurring to her.

'Oh, God, you're not tryin' to charm me into bein' friends with yer, are you?'

'Would you like to be?'

Martina snorted. 'Somehow I don't think I get a say in this.'

'Oh, you don't, sweetheart. You don't. It's happening.'

'Well. I suppose that's that, then. I 'aven't the energy to battle yer today.' She stood, and Joey realised her skirt was shorter than he'd thought, reaching only partway down her thigh. The tarted yourself up comment still stands, he considered saying, but he'd annoyed her enough today, and her hand was curled around his, and she was perhaps the only person in the world who seemed to understand what he was going through. He decided not to push it further. Well, not on that front, although she might appreciate…

'In which case…'

'I don't show favouritism in the DSS, you know,' Martina's stern retort shot at him before he could finish his sentence, pre-empting the end of it.

'For now. But if I stick around long enough, I might get you to give in.'

And that was when he discovered that Martina could use her long fingernails to dig into his hand and cause him pain.

Martina couldn't have said what compelled her to accept Joey Boswell's invitation. It wasn't that strange part of her she was trying to crush, that was for certain. The part of her that had felt sick when she'd heard he was getting married, and gleeful, even in her sympathy, when she discovered what had transpired instead. The part that had gone off to Scotland to drag him back to Liverpool, even though it was a flighty, impulsive and downright daft thing to do. No, it was not that part at all.

(It was. Martina had to get rid of it, she told herself. She was taking her strange love-hate fancying of Joey too far now. It was as if something within her had snapped, unleashed when he went off to elope, and she hadn't been able to box it back in again).

Now she'd made plans to spend time outside of work with Joey Boswell – as in, it had been prearranged and agreed upon by both of them, rather than a chance encounter or a strange impulse on her part –even though a part of her wanted to crush him, a part of her still wanted to kick him where it hurt for his treatment of her in Scotland, and a part of her wanted to go back to thinking lustfully of him from afar while resenting him.

It was all so strange, as was sitting in his Jaguar yet again, Joey in a far more cheerful mood and humming while he drove. It was oddly relaxing, even as it simultaneously drove her mad from the strangeness of it.

She'd had a harrowing Friday night, a truly awful date (she hadn't told Joey everything , but trying to fend off an overly handsy bastard and making a run for it when he'd tried to use force had taken a lot out of her). She rested her head against the back of the car seat, shutting her eyes for a moment. She hadn't really wanted to go out tonight; Sylvia had been pestering her for weeks to meet her friend ('you'd like him, I promise…') and it was only after her lapse in common sense and her disastrous journey to Scotland that Martina had actually agreed to it, in the hope she might force herself to move on from Joey Boswell before she did anything else rash.

Not that that had worked. Look at me now, Martina thought bitterly, in 'is car again. She scrunched her eyes tighter.

'You fallin' asleep, there?'

'No,' she retorted, even though the idea was more appealing than she'd let on. It was getting late; she'd exerted herself physically trying to escape from that awful dinner and emotionally trying to handle a conversation with Joey Boswell which had resulted in agreeing to be friends with him, and the weight of both was pushing down on her. Not only that, the gentle thrum of the Jag's engine was calming; it was nice to ride in car that didn't rattle or growl. Most of Shifty's stolen rides had been horrific.

Joey's hand left the steering wheel, ruffling her hair. Martina reached up weakly and whacked it off.

'You'd better be keepin' an eye on the road.'

'Oh, I am, sunshine. But I do have summat called peripheral vision, and out of that, I am capable of observin' things.'

'And in my peripheral vision, I am capable of observing the devious little fiddles you think you're so clever at hidin', so beware, Mister Boswell, if you've decided you're gonna be friends with me.'

Joey snorted. 'Oh, go back to sleep.'

'I told yer. I wasn't asleep.'

'Of course you weren't. And here we are.' He was pulling up outside her block of flats now, sailing the Jag in reverse into a free parking space so quickly and smoothly Martina couldn't help but be impressed.

'Okay to make your way? Of course, if you are overcome by exhaustion, I could offer me services and carry you.'

'I'm not that tired, Mister Boswell,' Martina grumbled. She remembered all too well the humiliation of being yanked unceremoniously over Joey Boswell's shoulders, and it wasn't something she wanted to experience again. She hastened to get up and out the car before the idea could lodge too firmly in his head and prompt him to reach for her.

Now she was out, the cold air assaulting her, a part of her wished she could get back in the Jag. She'd left her coat in that bloody restaurant. Martina pretended she wasn't bothered, reached her hand back in through the window to shake his.

'Thank you.'

'No sweat.' Joey winked. 'I'll meet you here midday tomorrow, yeah?'

'I suppose I've got no choice, have I?' She wanted it to sound stern, but for reasons unbeknownst to her (so she claimed, though she knew inside that wasn't true) she couldn't wipe the smile off her face, and Joey noticed.

'Oh, you haven't, sweetheart, so no disappearing.' He blew her a kiss, and she stuck her fingers up at him as he drove away, but she doubted he'd noticed.

Next up: Joey's plans for his outing with Martina are not what anyone expected...