Jolted from her thoughts by the sound of a door slamming upstairs, Pam sighed before turning back to face the window. She had grown accustomed to the sound of the footsteps of the man she had come to loathe, her brother-in-law, her most powerful adversary. Stubbornly, she refused to look as she heard him descend the stairs before leaving the house.

Alone once more, she stared aimlessly through the window, the reflection of the Christmas lights doing nothing to alter her mood. She had lost him, or her, and the pain was just as acute now as it had been in the immediate aftermath.

She stood and walked over to the drinks trolley but could find nothing remotely tempting to drink. Stooping to look underneath, the array of seasonal snacks and treats laid out on the lower shelf did nothing for her either. What she wanted was lost, gone, with no ready replacement.

Reaching for the telephone, she dialled the only person she felt she could depend on to listen to her, to sympathise and reassure her that everything would eventually be alright. After a dozen bursts of the ringtone, she replaced the receiver. She realised that she couldn't expect Cliff to be at home just as the holidays had begun but she had wanted to speak to him so badly that she almost felt irked by his lack of response.

Taking her seat once more she gazed around the room. She'd never lived anywhere remotely like Southfork before and, at this time of year, the house appeared even more homely and inviting than before. Tomorrow it would be Christmas Eve and, according to Miss Ellie, there would be a lavish family dinner to celebrate.

She knew her mother-in-law was just trying to raise her spirits with the information, but the notion was abhorrent to her. Sitting around the table, eating, drinking, and making merry with the rest of the family was the last thing she wanted to do, although she knew that she would have to see it through, for Bobby's sake at least.

She glanced at the mantle clock and realised it was getting late. Bobby's absences were becoming ever longer these days as his frustration grew, she realised. It was easy for him, she told herself. He hadn't been the one growing and nurturing their child inside him. He hadn't endured the pain. He could move on, if necessary, with someone else, whilst she was trapped.

She heard the front door open and close again softly. "Pam?" Bobby asked, stopping in his tracks. "You haven't waited up for me, have you honey?" She shook her head. "No" she answered flatly. "Have you eaten?" he enquired, anxiously. "A little" she replied.

He set his briefcase down and entered the room. "What have you been doing, down here all on your own?" "Just sitting, thinking" she answered, unwilling to elaborate further. He sighed. "Pammy…" "I know!" she snapped.

Avoiding the temptation to shake his head, he poured himself a large measure of Scotch. "Do you want one?" he asked anxiously, hoping that a drink might lift her mood, at least for a time. She nodded, defeated by the sense of hopelessness that hung over her constantly. It wasn't his fault, it wasn't anyone's, not even JR's, she told herself.

After handing her drink over he seated himself next to her, uncomfortably close, she felt, given the lack of intimacy between them since it had happened. He sipped his drink and surveyed the room. "The tree and decorations look nice" he commented, breaking the silence. She nodded unenthusiastically. "Your mama and daddy spent a long time earlier getting it to look like this."

"Daddy?" he questioned. "He doesn't normally get involved in this sort of thing?" "I think he realised that neither Sue Ellen nor I were interested" she replied. Bobby sighed. "It's been a while now, Pam. It's time to move on, honey" he ventured, knowing what was bound to follow.

She swung around angrily to face him. "How would you know? How could you possibly feel the way I do?". He paused before responding, trying to collect his thoughts. He had rehearsed this conversation over and over in his head but had never found the courage to initiate it. He knew it was long overdue but, at the same time, appreciated that it had to be done.

"I don't know what it felt like, for you, physically and emotionally. What I do know is how much I wanted our baby, just the same as you did" he began. She stared at him angrily. "From the moment you told me you were pregnant all I could think about was what it would be like to be a father. I was excited, hopeful, even a bit scared, but that little person, yours, and mine, represented a future that I longed for, made even more special by the fact that I would be sharing him or her with you. You see, Pam, it's not just your loss, although I don't seek to diminish what you've been through. It's my loss too."

As he watched the tears well in her eyes, he began to regret what he'd started. Now was hardly the time, he admonished himself, so close to Christmas when emotions can run so high. "But you seem so, so, fine?" she stammered through the tears. "I don't understand, Bobby. To me, it seemed as though you were able to get over it, so quickly, so easily."

He took hold of her hand, realising that it was shaking, to steady it. "I'm not fine, honey. My child is gone, and I am grieving too, but one of us had to remain strong, or at least appear to." She took a gulp of her drink, shocked not just by his words, but by the emotion that lay behind them.

"I'm sorry, Bobby" she started. "I've been horribly selfish…" "No! I would never denigrate your pain and I'm trying to understand. It just feels sometimes as though I've lost both of you. You're so distant and so disconnected, I suppose is how I'd describe it. You and I are a team, Pam, and I need you. We have to see this through together, to seek comfort from each other, to help get over this."

She nodded sadly. "How about we try to make a new start?" she suggested. "Right now, given it's Christmas? I can't promise much but I'm willing to try because I love you, Bobby. I really do." "That's good enough for me" he answered before kissing her softly on the lips. "I love you, Pam. I always will." As they watched the flames dancing in the fireplace, illuminated further by the glow of the fairy lights, for the first time in ages they both felt hopeful.

Tbc