Half way across the Atlantic and a long way yet to go. The aeroplane's engines droned steadily on, partially drowning out the noises from dozing passengers. Casino eased his right shoulder, trying to regain some feeling without waking the passenger in the next seat. The movement disturbed the man and he grunted, but did not wake, just made himself more comfortable and settled back into his dreams.

The war was over and a new chapter was starting for the safecracker. 'Duration plus six months' they'd been told after their first mission. Then you get your parole… What hadn't been said was how long the parole would be or its conditions. Things hadn't quite turned out as expected. Washington wanted their troops home and demobbed as fast as possible to cut costs, so ship after ship was being loaded with home-coming heroes. No-one cared particularly about four convicts waiting in an old country house, wondering what their fate would be.

Their CO, the man that had led them for the last 18 months, made arranging their repatriation his final mission. Lieutenant, now Captain, Craig Garrison had taken the task as seriously as he had every mission he'd undertaken. Offered the choice of serving their parole in England or the United States, Actor, Chief and Goniff had all elected to stay in the UK.

Actor had been offered a role with the British Museum. With his existing London apartment having survived the bombing, he was the easiest to resolve and had said goodbye to his colleagues in July 1945.

Millie, Goniff's land girl girlfriend, had taken on a local greengrocery shop with the help of the bank manager and a few friends and family. It had belonged to an elderly couple who had planned on passing the business to their grandsons, but it hadn't worked out. The eldest had been killed in the Dunkirk evacuation, the youngest in the D-day landings.

Their daughter and her husband had gone their separate ways during the war and she had no intention of coming home to take over the family business. Philosophically the couple had sold up and were heading for retirement in one of the converted railway carriages that dotted Hayling Island.

Being a shopkeeper wasn't in Goniff's DNA, but when Millie'd proposed to him during the VE Day celebrations, he'd accepted. She didn't want to emigrate and he didn't want to lose her, so England would be his home – at least for a while. The shop came with a small flat above so that satisfied the needs of his parole to have a 'fixed abode' and technically he had work.

Amber had transferred from the military hospital to a new role at the Royal Berkshire where she would be working as a theatre nurse and in an intensive care unit. Returning to Shropshire and her parent's house had never been an option for her.

At first Chief had been unsure of what he should do. He was well aware that his relationship with Amber was more physical than intellectual, but there was nothing waiting for him back home, so in the end he decided to stay. He and Amber rented a terraced house in Reading and the Indian set about trying to find work.

Casino had gone over to see both houses and hadn't been too impressed with what he found. Chief's house was a two-up/two-down with an outside toilet and no bathroom or heating. A gas geyser in the kitchen provided hot water and if you wanted a bath you could go to the 'slipper baths' as they called them in the town centre. Together Chief and Casino had managed to build a wooden lean-to that brought the toilet inside and converted the adjacent coal storage area into a shower. A paraffin heater would take the worst of the chill off things – even if it did make everything smell of oil.

Millie's place wasn't too bad. A single bedroom, a combined kitchen, dining and living area and a compact bathroom was all it offered, but it was neat and tidy and had been made homely with the addition of a few vases and a couple of rugs. There was even some heating – a gas fire in the living room and a single bar electric wall heater in the bathroom – although it would cost a fortune to run explained Millie.

Finally Casino made his own decision. Based on what he'd seen of post-war life in England he was going back to New York and would take his chances there.

Things might have been different, he thought, if he'd had Kat by his side.

He'd met Katherina De Luco by chance in early 1944. The safecracker had been captured and tortured by Cheknik rebels in Yugoslavia. Rescued and repatriated by Garrison and the others - aided by communist partisans, he'd been in no state - either physically or mentally, to take part in the next mission to Switzerland. Instead, he'd been packed off to an SIS training establishment in the New Forest, Hampshire.

Kat had been teaching Italian and they'd become friends from the first. Two weeks later, when Casino returned to the Mansion, they'd not only become lovers but, Casino had to admit to himself, he'd fallen for her, badly.

Fortunately, Kat seemed as enamoured of the older man as he was of her. It had been hard to stay in contact, partly because of Casino's unpredictable lifestyle but also from her teaching commitments, however they'd managed it on several occasions. Either Casino had borrowed a motorbike and ridden down to the New Forest or Kat had managed to use the train to get to the Mansion.

Something had gone wrong just after VE Day. Casino hadn't heard from Kat for some weeks, which was unusual, but then again, he'd been out of the country a lot. In the end, after worrying about things for some time he'd phoned the school.

Miss De Luco had resigned her post they told him eventually and sorry, no, they didn't have a forwarding address. Casino borrowed the motorbike again, made his apologies to Garrison and shot off south. Reaching Lymington, he found her parent's house was now occupied by a new family. It was the next-door neighbour that finally gave him the information he'd been looking for.

Kat's brother Franco had been killed in April when his frigate had been struck by a torpedo. That part Casino knew – she had written to let him know. What she hadn't said was that her father had demanded she leave her job and come home. The next thing the neighbour knew was that Mr De Luco had given up his business and the house, sold the furniture and taken ship, with his family, to America without leaving a forwarding address.

Heavy of heart and with no further leads, Casino had returned to the Mansion. He could only hope that Kat would eventually get in touch.

By September he'd given up hope so, when Garrison finally said there was a place on one of the troop ships for him, Casino was looking forward to leaving. He just hoped he wouldn't be handcuffed.

Two days later, Casino was packed and waiting in the Mansion hallway, his suitcase by his side. It wasn't much to show for the last eighteen months. A few items of clothing – at least they hadn't confiscated the 'uniforms' like they were doing with the Limeys – a couple of books and a pack of cards. That was about it, apart from some money from bits and pieces he'd managed to filch on their missions, then fence. Most of it had been spent on cigarettes and in the Doves.

"Ready?" Garrison appeared, smartly dressed as always. He was leaving at the same time – but he'd be flying.

"Yeah." Casino heaved himself to his feet, stubbed out his latest cigarette and picked up the suitcase.

"Here, you might want this." The officer handed over a brown envelope.

Curious, the safecracker peered inside. The first thing he saw were some dollar bills. "Thanks."

"You might want to take another look."

Lying under the bills was a piece of cardboard and a passport. Casino pulled out both. The passport was in his name… so was the airline ticket. He looked suspiciously at Garrison.

"A seat came free. I always said why walk if you can fly – I guess the same can be said for sailing."

Casino burst out laughing. "In that case, Warden, lead on."

And that was why he was now sitting in an aeroplane in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean with Garrison asleep against his shoulder.

G G G

The two parted company at the airport.

Garrison was heading for Washington to take up a new role co-ordinating the withdrawal and redeployment of units in Europe. He knew it would be a job he would hate after the excitement and freedom of leading his team of 'garbage can hoods' on undercover operations.

Still, there were compensations. Goniff wasn't the only one to be married. He and Jan had tied the knot secretly, in Oxford, a few days before he'd left for the States. Now they just needed to wait for her papers to come through and she'd be travelling out to join him.

Reluctant to sell her bookshop, she had finally found someone to run the business for her. It would provide a small income, but that was less important to her than the books themselves. It also meant she didn't have to worry about selling her furniture.

Casino headed for New York. His youngest brother, Francesco, and his wife had offered him the spare room in their apartment. It would do until he found his feet and seemed a better bet for the moment than going back to their parent's place.

Two days later and he wasn't so sure he'd made the right decision. Francesco's son was teething and was keen that everyone within hearing distance knew how big his lungs were and just how much his gums HURT! Casino liked kids – but enough was enough. He had to get out, and fast.

Getting a job so he could stay straight would be the hardest part, but it had to be done to meet the terms of the parole board. Maybe he could get something in a garage – he'd learned a lot working with Chief and Diesel on the scrap cars. That might count for something.

Still, he didn't feel optimistic as he made his way on foot to his meeting with the parole officer. His family had been all too keen to tell the horror stories on the lack of opportunities for returning servicemen and how bad it was for anyone coming out of jail. In fact, Casino almost turned around and went home before he made it through the front doors. If it hadn't been for the feeling he'd be letting Garrison down, he'd have given up.

"So, Mr Colletti. How's it going?" The officer wasn't looking at him as he spoke and didn't seem particularly interested in getting an answer. He was reading from a file, flipping a few pages back and forth.

Casino shrugged. "So so."

"I see you're living with your brother. He's OK with that?"

"Yeah, for a while, till I get myself sorted."

"You've had a colourful career Mr Colletti." The man smiled. The first hint of any emotion that Casino had seen so far. There wasn't much he could say, so he didn't.

"But your commanding officer has spoken well of you… says with the right opportunities you could turn your life around."

And where am I going to get those, thought Casino, remaining silent and wondering where this might be going. Why not just tell him to keep his nose clean and that he'd see him again in a month?

"How old are you Mr Colletti? Thirty-one, isn't it? You're a lot older than most people I see this company interested in, but there you go." The parole officer pulled a letter out of the file and pushed it across the table. "There's an interview for you tomorrow at their offices in Manhattan. Don't be late."

Casino looked at the headed notepaper showing the name of the company and its registered address. 'Who the hell were they?' he wondered. 'Cash registers? Safes? Maybe there was something they wanted that he could do.' He headed home feeling slightly more optimistic than when he'd arrived.

After his interview the next day he was even more confused. Electronic calculators? Well, he'd never been afraid of a challenge. Somewhere, someone had pulled a string or two, but he wasn't complaining. He'd give it a go and if it didn't work out, he could always try the garage.

G G G

Six months later and Casino was still there and doing quite well. He was working out of a new building, north of the city and had managed to rent a small apartment on a quiet street. The downside, he had to admit, was he was lonely. He'd had his 32nd birthday back in December and was no nearer to meeting someone to spend his life with.

He'd dated a few girls from work, but none more than once or twice. He'd been for the odd beer with some of the guys – but most of them were married with young families and didn't have the time, or the money, to socialise overmuch.

Late March and he headed into the city for an overdue visit to his parents. He was driving his new 'project'... a wreck of a car he'd done up painstakingly over the winter in an attempt to keep busy. He had to admit to being proud of the convertible with its gleaming paint and shining chrome. The sun was shining so he was able to leave the top down and enjoy the drive.

Lunch over, he stepped outside to enjoy a cigarette. He still hadn't managed to quit although he had cut down and he'd got into the habit of smoking outside which helped a bit too. It looked like a wedding party was taking place next door and had spilled out onto the street. A group of boys were playing ball in the street and a few young men and women were leaning against the railings enjoying the spring sunshine.

Another woman, carrying a baby wrapped in a blanket in her arms, pushed her way through the crowd and shouted something to one of the boys. The lad broke away from his friends and headed back to the house. As the boy passed her, the woman turned to follow the youngster back inside, and as she did so he caught sight of her face. 'Kat? It couldn't be.'

Casino's movement must have caught her eye as she looked up – and froze. He saw her lips move, then she started to walk hesitantly in his direction.

So that was why she hadn't written, he thought. She'd finally found someone her age, had a kid of her own.

"Charlie? What are you doing here?" She sounded incredulous.

"Boy or a girl?" he asked, nodding towards the bundle lying quietly in her arms.

Kat looked down at the child she was holding, looking surprised as if she'd forgotten what was lying there. "Boy."

Another young woman hurried over. "Thanks for looking after him Kat, I just couldn't hang on another minute." She transferred the bundle to her own arms, looking at Casino with interest. She seemed about to say something but then a shout from the group of boys behind her caught her attention and she turned away.

"Norman. You get back inside. Those are your best pants. If you wreck them your ma'll kill me." She rounded up and shepherded 'Norman' into the house.

Kat found her voice at last. "That's my second cousin, Chiara. The baby's hers."

Casino could see now that there were no rings on Kat's fingers – although that, of course, meant nothing. "You never wrote."

"But I did! I wrote sending you my address and then again when I'd heard nothing after a few weeks." Kat seemed genuinely shocked. "You never got them?"

Casino shook his head and Kat reached over and took his hand. "Let's go for a walk, see if we can find somewhere quiet to talk."

"Won't you be missed?"

"No, Izzy - she's the one that just got married - is getting changed. She'll be off in a minute, then everyone can either get drunk or go home. No-one will notice I'm gone."

They ended up sat in Casino's car. "So, what happened?"

"After Franco died, Papa got kind of crazy. He wouldn't let me go to work. Said I had to stay at home and help Mama, like a good Italian girl. We hadn't realised, but his business wasn't going well. I think a lot of people didn't like buying from an Italian." Kat smiled wryly. "In the end he owed too much money and had to give it up. Then he got a letter from one of his friends in New York, telling him how great it was over here."

"We couldn't afford the rent on the Lymington house anymore without my wage and without the shop. Papa sold the furniture and used the money to pay for one-way tickets to New York. I should have written then, but I didn't. I was too embarrassed."

Kat hung her head, gutted as to how things had panned out. She took a deep breath and went on.

"As you know, the streets aren't paved with gold in New York. It's a 'kill or be killed' world. Well, with Papa it was 'be killed'. He picked an argument with some punk outside our rented apartment and the knife cut an artery. The kid fled and Papa bled out there on the sidewalk."

Casino found it odd to hear Kat had already picked up a few American words. "What happened then?"

"Mama went to live with her cousin who's running a deli. She seems happy enough. I think she misses Papa, but she's never said."

"And you?"

"Living with Chiara. She had a spare room and wanted some company. Her husband was still in the Air Force and the baby hadn't been born. It's not so easy now though."

"You still teaching?"

Kat shook her head. "Funnily, no one over here wants to learn Italian. I'm working in a grocery, stocking shelves and serving customers. It's long hours and doesn't pay well, but it keeps the wolf from the door. What about yourself?"

"Doing OK. Got a job, renting a place. Could be worse." Casino paused. "Kat, how do you feel about us?"

Kat looked Casino in the eye, then dropped her gaze, embarrassed. "Really?"

"Really."

She looked up again and shrugged. In for a penny… "I love you, Casino, Charlie, whatever you want to be called. I've loved you since the day you stood up to Mama back in Lymington."

Casino breathed in slowly. It was the answer he'd hoped for but hadn't dared imagine.

"Well, Signorina Katherina De Luco, I've a another question for you... how 'bout we get married?"

Kat opened her mouth, then closed it again and breathed deeply. "You're joking?"

Casino shook his head gently, his eyes holding hers.

"Then yes. Yes!" Kat gulped and put her hand across her mouth. Shocked at what she'd just done, but exhilarated too. "What now?"

"Now? Now we get your stuff, say goodbye to Chiara and get back to my place. Tomorrow we talk to your Mama and tell your grocery store to stick their job."

"Sounds like a plan, Mr Colletti."

Casino smiled smugly. Life had suddenly got a whole lot better.

Sunday morning found a very satisfied safecracker lying back in his bed.

Kat had just showered and was towelling her unruly curls. Casino smiled, appreciating the view.

"Thought you said you didn't believe in taking risks, Charlie?"

"That was before you agreed to be Mrs Colletti."

G G G

Casino and Kat walked down the aisle two months later. She was radiant, dressed in white, the epitome of the virgin bride. The fact that she was 8 weeks pregnant was something that only she and Casino knew… or cared about.

G G G

Life was good. Enrico was born seven months after their wedding and two prouder, happier parents couldn't have been imagined. Two years later he was followed by Sofia. The apartment was too small, but they managed to scrape together enough and purchased a small, clapboard house with a yard.

Years passed by. Complications, not understood at the time, prevented Kat carrying another child to term. Casino was philosophical… he had two happy, healthy children and he wanted his wife by his side… together they agreed to the surgery that would guarantee her survival.

Spring 1968, they both realised that all was not well. Casino had finally, on his 50th birthday, quit the demon weed. He was proud he'd done it at last... but the damage was done. The X-rays told the grim story.

Late April, two years later, Kat said goodbye to the love of her life for the final time. All in all, they'd had a good life. Yes, Charlie should have had another twenty years, but you couldn't always have what you wanted.

She stood at his funeral, flanked by her son Enrico on her left and Casino's brother Francesco on her right. Behind, she knew their daughter Sofia was clasped tightly by her maternal grandmother. Casino's parents were there too. This was Family, and she was proud of everything she and Charlie had achieved. Amongst the mourners, Rodney Chapman... his friend from the war that Casino had always called Goniff, flown in from California with his wife Millie. Colonel Craig Garrison and his wife Jan stood quietly to one side – it was a mark of the respect the Army man had felt for 'his safecracker' that he'd made the effort to be there today.

RIP Casino. You will live on.

G G G

In tribute to Rudy Solari – 21 Dec 1934 to 23 April 1991.