This chapter gets a little darker as Harry shares her past. Just a warning in case this may cause upset for you. Thanks to several 100 people who are reading this...it would be nice to know what you think, good and bad.

CocoBacon yes, still reading and really looking forward to you posting! Love love love your work!

Enough waffle, here we go!

OOOOOOXXOOOO

Chapter 11

It's dark when his family decides to leave for the hotel. Emily is getting sleepily fractious and Tom has wailed from his cot in Dempsey's bedroom. Gemma collects up the toys whilst Bobby dries the dishes. Dempsey insists that he takes Harry home.

"Always leave with the same woman." He teases, his hair falling messily over his face as he lifts Emily from her arms and they say goodbye. All of them promise to stay in touch and tell Dempsey to bring Harry over on holiday. She finds herself eagerly agreeing.

"Did you enjoy it?" Dempsey asks, concerned than they've made a good impression on her. "We can be a bit loud."

He steers through the London streets. Raindrops burst on the windscreen and he fiddles with the wiper settings. Tries to make her comfortable.

"It's been wonderful." Harry says, "Gemma and Bobby are lovely."

"She's known Bobby since school. Childhood sweethearts." Dempsey explains. "I thought you might be bored."

"Not with your family and their amazing stories." She smiles and then stretches out, "And I'm home in time for a long soak in hot bath."

Dempsey tries not to think of this beautific vision, instead he fiddles with the heater settings as he idles the car at a set of traffic lights.

"So Gemma and Bobby have been together forever then?" Harry asks, innocently unaware of where his mind wandered.

The conversation strays easily to their own childhood misdemeanors. Dempsey confessing to enthusiastic kiss-chase as a boy, and Harry admits to teenage crushes and planning escapades with her friend Angela. When he raises an amused eyebrow, she playfully explains; "I hardly understood what I was thinking! Boarding school didn't really tell us much about that sort of stuff. I suppose the odd dirty book did the rounds but I don't remember."

As he navigates the roads, he senses a question in the air but waits it out. He is already aware that his past doesn't sit well with her but he's not sure how to address it.

"Your ex-girlfriend…" Harry comments, remembering Thelma's comment of earlier.

"Simone." He finds the name awkward in his mouth. He's been so used to not saying it and when he did, it was bellowed in frustration. To say her name quietly throws him. Not least because he's sharing the words with a woman who has already upended his life and his attitude without even doing anything but be herself.

"How long?" She asks. There's a slight hint of something in her voice that he thinks is jealousy but rather than amuse him, he feels uneasy. It was his most significant relationship and he considers his words before opening his mouth.

"Two years, on and off. I met her at a party. She drank a lot, always did. When she was mugged in the street, she agreed to rehab and I supported her but the cycle kept repeating itself. I'd save her, we'd have a good coupla' of weeks and then she'd hit the bottle again. She didn't like me being a cop and I wasn't around enough, I guess. One day I came home to find another man in the bed, my stuff on the street so I left." He heaves a sigh out because this feels cathartic. "We're better as friends."

He glances over to see her face almost close up, it's impossible to know what she's thinking but these are his truths and he'd rather tell her than have her hear it from someone else. "My job ain't easy and I did stuff I wasn't proud of. Got too close to women who were on the wrong side. Chas said I'd be a criminal if I wasn't a cop."

"Do you do that now, get close to women…" Harry holds her breath.

"No. I guess I didn't think it mattered back then. Get the results and damm everything else. I didn't much care about myself or anyone else." And that's true. When he thinks of his flirting with women and having sex because he could, there wasn't any love there. Chas settling down has also made him think about his future and having his own family.

"Would you… I mean, well it's a lot to commit to someone." Harry hesitates, her face illuminated by the traffic lights and staring ahead.

"Sure is." He pulls the car away and the words he was going to say are lost as the RT interrupts them. He reaches down and flicks it off.

"Do you miss her?"

Does he miss Simone? Dempsey thinks back to those years, "I don't miss the chaos she brought, but when she was sober, she was fun but I don't wish I was back there, or living in New York, if that's your question?"

She nods but doesn't say any more until they reach her house and he's parking the car. "Thank you for keeping an eye on me, this afternoon."

He wants to say something about her being an eyeful but he's taken aback when she asks if he wants to come in and it feels inappropriate. He thought that his honesty may have blown all his chances with her. Inside the hall, he finds his voice, "Thank you for letting me look out for you and asking about Simone... I wasn't sure…"

"If it was overkill?" Harry finishes and then shakes her head, "I can take a bit more than you think."

She leans towards him, her eyes flickering down to his lips then back up, hoping that he will meet her halfway. He takes the hint, his heart beating wildly. Their lips were so close, he could feel her breath. Then he sees her nod.

With her permission granted, Dempsey closes the small space between them, raising his free hand up to her cheek, running his thumb over her soft skin, remembering how it was bruised that first time he saw her. He thinks she might remember as she leans in and there's a shine of tears. Dempsey is struck by the awareness that he knows her well enough to know that this is not because she's scared. When her fingers thread around his neck and into his hair, his lips find hers, he's astonished to find her opening for him, his tongue meeting hers. It feels like the greatest show of trust between them.

"You taste of cake," She murmurs presently and wraps her arms tighter around him. Her kisses are slow and languid and he feels that she is in this moment with him. No pressure to do more.

"I wanted to be clear that, I didn't mean to invite you in for…" She says, flustered after a few moments, her cheeks flushed and her lips bee-stung from his attention.

"I ain't that easy." Dempsey hopes her expectations are improved. In a past life, he'd have been annoyed and frustrated. He would probably have walked away but he can't imagine moving from this spot. After the conversation in the car, he thinks she knows this too. "You make a compelling case though. You are beautiful." He smiles as she blushes.

His heart swings around in his chest with longing as she makes her way through the house, noting she has a routine born from caution, despite his presence. She closes the blinds in the hallway window, and the same in the sitting room, always turning on the lights first. He wondered what else she'd been through that made her so fearful in her home.

"Do you want a drink?" Harry asks as he tries to get a handle on her body language and she must sense it because she's quick to reassure him. "I wouldn't offer if I didn't want you to stay awhile."

'If you are, then yeah, thanks." He takes the bottle of red wine and the corkscrew which she offers him, pleased to doing something. As he tackles it, he looks at her family photos on the wall and tries to identify the faces. "Is this Winfield Hall? Your father? Angela?"

"You remembered them?" She looks amazed, and he's both mystified and pleased by her reaction. "I wasn't expecting you to."

He looks at the photos again, "It's your home and these people are important, aren't they? Of course I remember."

"Robert never paid attention or listened. I didn't think anyone did." Harry is staring at him in a way that reminds him of Emily looking overwhelmed by the dinosaurs in the museum. He sees her bite her bottom lip and he falls for her a little more. He is unable to comprehend what it must be like to never be heard. For a loud-mouth like him, used to people jumping to his voice, it's a surprise. He's starting to understand that not all abuse is physical.

"We got all the time you need to talk and to be heard." He says opening up his arms to her, praying it's the right thing to do.

Harry crumples then, gripping onto his shirt and he tries to offer all the warmth he can. It's as if she's trying to climb into his body, an action that may have caused him to react in arousal but he just feels his heartache in a way he's never experienced before. Sure, his mother and sister have been upset, Simone has shed tears of regret but with Harry, it feels like something has shifted for her under her sobs. Like she's claiming something of herself, or them, back.

When the clock ticking sounds louder than her tears, and she's released her tight grip on him, she starts to speak. "My mum died just over two years ago. She had cancer… it was so quick. One minute she was there and suddenly not. It wasn't spotted until it was too late and the doctors couldn't save her. Freddy and I were stuck in the hall and being very, well, British about it. Robert was simply there being all efficient about the arrangements at the solicitors. I never remember how he turned up. Just that he did and somehow I thought it was the right thing to do, to marry him when he asked. We'd only dated a few times. I had a few boyfriends at university but I kidded myself that it was love. My father warned me not to, but the prospect of being at the hall, with the responsibility of it all.…"

"You really weren't to know what he was like." Dempsey sits her down on her sofa.

"I'm beginning to understand that." She sniffs, "I'm sorry, I get triggers when I least expect it. Someone being kind is one of them."

"You'd better get some shares in a tissue factory." He grins and is pleased to see she responds with a wobbly laugh. "I'm real sorry about your mom."

"Thank you." Harry leans across the sofa to a side table and picks up a silver-framed photo of an elegant blonde woman with a younger Freddy. "This my mother, Margaret. Her family came from the East End in London. She met my father through the army. They adored each other."

Dempsey admires the couple, "You were never gonna be anything but beautiful with parents like this."

Harry rolls her eyes at him, "That's very cheesy, but I'll take it."

"Hey!" He laughs, holding up his hands in defeat, after he's carefully put the photo back on the table and takes a sip of wine, "I speak as I find."

She cuffs his arm and then settles down, "When I got married, Freddy changed his will. Everything is left to my cousin and I get a small house, it used to be a dowagers house on the estate."

"Doesn't that bother you?" Dempsey has to ask, "Your childhood home being left to someone else? Won't that feel strange?"

"You know, Robert asked if I was worried I wouldn't get the money." Harry says drily, "No, it doesn't, it's a huge responsibility. My cousin is a safe pair of hands. Freddy said he'd discuss the hall again after I divorce, but he didn't trust Robert. That made my ex-husband's behaviour worse because he assumed we would inherit Winfield Hall. I suppose he thought the sooner we had an heir the more likely it was. When that was not the case, he carried on fucking Angie Hughes and didn't bother with me, so I suppose that's a bonus." Her laugh is bitter.

Dempsey lets go of a breath as he learns of some of the motivation behind Makepeace. He wasn't expecting her to swear or to even know about Angie Hughes. "I wasn't sure if you knew about her."

Harry picks at a thread on the cushion she holds on her lap, "The morning after our wedding. They were outside the house arguing, I suppose because we were married. He left with her and came back a few days later. He didn't visit my bed after that. He's obsessed with her." Harry pulls the thread and looks up at Dempsey, "I've had enough sexual experience to understand that what he did on our wedding night was rape. But because we were married, I couldn't report him..."

Dempsey strokes her arm gently, unable to speak such is his anger and grief.

"Do you know what I can't work out?" Harry breaks the silence.

He shakes his head, he can't work out any of it.

"When he was going to kill me and my father." Harry looks at him as he frowns, "Well, it's true isn't it? Once his star had risen, there would have been no use for me and no suspicion if Freddy wasn't around. Robert would be the poor widower in need of a wife and Angie could scrub up. Or he'd find someone else more titled."

"Jesus, Harry." Dempsey runs a hand through his hair, "Forensics haven't found any evidence to say that."

"They won't. Robert would use Keith Ryman. His driver. He gets paid several thousand a month to keep quiet and his bonus is a night with those poor girls." Harry looks levelly at Dempsey, "Yes, I know about that too. Joseph told me."

"We've arrested and charged Angie Hughes." He says after he lets her words sink in. "Keith was picked last week also."

Harry shuffles in her seat, uneasy at this news. "All I knew is that Robert is still on bail."

"He knew how to pull a few strings, he's got uniform stalking him." Dempsey seethes.

"All things lead somewhere," Harry comments, as she sips her wine, calming him with a brush of her hand. "If I hadn't gone through that, I might never have met you."

"Don't make what he did right," Dempsey settles as she nestles into his side and he throws an arm around her shoulder. "You're an incredibly brave woman to think like that, all the self-defence, the job then the counsellin', that's a lot of guts."

"Or you're an exceptional man, who makes me want to fight back against my ex." Harry counters, close enough for him to study her face and she allows him as he puts down his empty glass and kisses her. How any man could not be obsessed with her is beyond him.

"This okay?" He asks quietly. He senses there is more for her to tell but that will come in time, if she even wants to do that.

"I meant what I said before, I trust you." And she seeks out his lips wondering where this night will end. She hadn't intended for them to end up in bed, but she's very tempted.

Just as he's getting lost in her, and thinking he ought to apologise for how his body is responding, though as Harry moves close, she doesn't seem to mind, Dempsey is aware of a distance noise. He feels Harry stiffen in his arms as he registers the loud, aggressive knocking at the front door. "You want me to go get that?"

They're slow to untangled from each other. Later, he'll be grateful for this turn of events as a man's voice shouts through the letterbox. "I know you're there Harriet. With a man. I've been watching you. Has he tried to defrost you? You never did spread your legs for me, I had to make you. They locked up Angie…" The voice continues to drive on as Harry pales beside Dempsey, her body trembling in fear.

"That's Robert." She whispers.