Hi, so here is another chapter, please read and review and let me know what you think.

Disclaimer-Nothing here is mine just the character of Isla.

Please Read and Review as we only have four more chapters of this story left! And again a massive thank you for all of you who have supported this story so far. It does mean the absolute world.

On a side note about Roxy-I think we all know by now that I hate the character (no disrespect to the actress who played her) and that there is nothing redeemable in this story for her but I did want to state that though her actions are un-defendable she is in the mindset of doing whatever she can to fix her marriage and avoid the next fist. So therefore I could not write her as a hundred percent evil as she is in a relationship I would not wish on my worst enemy both fictional and real.

So just a head's up about the character before you begin.

And some TRIGGER WARNINGS for that relationship in this chapter as well as drugging and kidnapping a minor.

Glory Days

Chapter 13-Fool Me Once

As Isla comes face to face with Roxy's true motives, Martina, Joey and the rest of the Boswells come face to face with their worst nightmare as they contemplate actions few and far between…and Alexandra Yizzel wants to share a secret.

She woke up with her head pounding like she was sick with something. For a second she thought she was because no sooner had her eyes snapped open then she wanted them snapped shut again. Once her eyes were snapped open a second time she felt a shiver wrack her entire body as if she was sickening for something, something she did not know about but it was taking her back to a time when all she wanted was her Dad and the warmth of her own bed. For another second only she thought that she might have that and then the confusion slipped in. Why did Isla Boswell not have that?

And then she realised.

And then she knew.

Because…

Then it all came flooding back to her and it gripped her with a terror that she had never felt before. It seemed amazing to her the little six year old Boswell, that a memory could cause such terror but waking up in a place she didn't know in a city that she was sure (though of course she wasn't was she?) wasn't Liverpool and there was no sight of either one of her parents.

Something had gone wrong here, Isla might only be six but she knew that something had gone horribly, terribly wrong here.

She pushed herself off the bed and nearly fell over. Her knees were wobbly and she staggered back upwards clutching the edge of the bed until it felt like she could stand a little bit more. She felt like she was going to be sick but she clamped down on her bottom lip gritting her teeth until the nausea passed and she thought that she could stand up again.

She padded out of the room and into the main area. This had to be a hotel suite and it was easy enough to find her shoes. She was still in her school clothes but her tie had gone and her shirt was half out and she didn't even have to look in a mirror to know that her hair must have been a complete and utter mess.

And her mother was stood there talking to a man.

"Unfucking believable Roxy. You really are. I thought that you wanted to go to America for a fresh start not take another fucking brat with us"

She took a step backwards shrinking somewhat against the venom in the man's voice.

The baby in the cot started to cry. Isla looked at him. She supposed that this was her little brother but the three year old was acting like a baby. It was almost as if he was doing this to get attention and she sure as hell was not going to give it to him.

"Isla"

"Mum…what's?"

"Come with me sweetheart"

Her Mum grabbed her wrist non to gently for that matter and pushed her back into the room.

"Isla darling" she said getting onto her knees and smoothing back her hair. It felt wrong though, it felt so, so wrong and Isla couldn't understand why. But she did think briefly that Alexandra Yizzel might have been right.

Damn her.

But what did that matter? What did it matter that Lexie was right when she was probably not going to see Lexie again—wasn't this how every episode of a crime show began? Baywatch? Something, anything?

Oh God Isla was turning into Uncle Adrian in thought if not in word.

She let her mother push her into a chair and tried to tune in the words that seemed to be spilling out of her mouth as if she too was having thoughts that were just running away from her.

"It will just be the four of us going to America Isla"

It took Isla a second to understand.

"You never told Dad did you?"

"No. I knew he'd never…I just knew. But I needed you, I need you to help make it all better"

Isla had no idea what she was on about and then she saw the bruises.

Roxy's wrists were blue almost.

And then she understood.

Like she had always said she was six and not stupid. But God she wished that she did. She wished that she was as young as Francesca who didn't understand anything.

Least of all her mother kidnapping her.

Which Isla was sure that her mother was doing.

She wanted to go home. She had to go home. She was not going to America because Isla knew that she wasn't going to be coming back if she did. And she wanted to go home.

She just had to find out how to do that.

"Where are we?"

"Were in London. Have to get the flight from here, and don't worry I've took care of everything. Stan and I are going to go and have dinner so I need you to look after Oscar and then…then it will be alright, we'll have a daughter and a son and we can be the perfect family. Maybe he'll stop drinking"

Isla said nothing. Her mind was already whirling.

"Did you ever want me?"

She had to ask it even as her mother left the room.

"Of course I did" she said distractedly. "You're the thing that's going to save me. Now I have to lock you in here until I come back with the passports. Don't do anything, Mike will get angry. And you don't want to make him angry"

Isla looked at the bruised wrists and thought she could understand why.

Roxy did indeed leave her there in a room with no phone or no way out with a kid that was screaming his head off by nightfall. Neither one of them bothered to come back until what felt like forever but was really the early hours of the morning. Isla spent the time watching the colours of the wallpaper that was generic. She rocked the baby a little but she had no idea what to do with him. She reckoned he probably needed feeding and changing and his parents but it wasn't until she had fallen asleep and then started up again at six in the morning that she realised that his parents didn't seem to care about him.

It wasn't Oscar's fault.

But at the same time she hated him, she couldn't believe she had been this stupid as to trust her mother—but—had she known not too?

It circled her brain time and time again and she thought she was going to be sick.

She went to the bathroom and managed to get a look at the hotel room they were in.

There was one door and she would have to grab a small table to stand on it to unlock it.

And Roxy and Stan would hear her.

Stan didn't bother her so much because he didn't seem to care she was there. He was okay with Oscar but his relief when Roxy took him was clear. And Roxy didn't bother with him that much. Isla who had grown up in the Boswell household where everyone loved everyone and was in each other's back pockets all the time couldn't understand it. And everytime she thought of it she thought of Dad and she had to avoid thinking of her Dad because everytime she did it made her want to cry. She had been gone a day now.

She dreaded to think what he must think.

And if she did get herself back to Liverpool—though how she was going to do that she didn't know—but if she did then she was going to have to face the consequences of all this lying and…

Christ he was going to be so mad.

She thought once, only once that maybe America would be better and then Mike slammed his hands down on the table as the football team lost and Roxy flinched (and how quickly she had stopped being Mum!) and the baby wailed and she realised maybe not.

But Isla Boswell was nothing but industrious…and she was going to get out of this place.

And she would never be taken as a fool again.

The police were called at half ten.

Martina had made them tea because she seemed to be the only woman in this house capable. Mrs Boswell had taken to praying in the corner and Martina who had grown up going to the Church of Say Please and Thank You and Mind Your Manners had thought they needed all the help they could get. When word hit the neighbours, the parish and the rest of Liverpool every Catholic, busybody and nutter in this city would descend on them.

Aveline was a complete joke.

She had cried a little, realised that Joey was not paying attention and then had gone on a moan about glitter eyeliner, then cried again for the benefit of the lovely looking and very young policeman and then had stormed off to her room claiming nobody paid any attention to the things that were important. Billy was across the road with his wife and baby and Adrian had gone out to find his elusive father.

Jack had stayed.

Between the two of them there was an understanding that came without words and with nothing else other than eye contact. Loathe each other though they might there was an understanding that they would get Joey through this and that they were the best too, to manage the carnage. Jack managed to answer any questions Joey couldn't and Martina made tea and glared whenever someone was inappropriate.

Joey was…

Silent.

It was unnerving.

It was one of the most unnerving things that you could have ever seen and having spent a decade and a half working behind a counter where desperate people tried to get their hands on whatever money they could get meant that she had seen a lot of desperately unnerving things. She had never seen Joey Boswell silent. She had never considered he could be silent.

But she also understood why. He was clamping down his voice because if he did speak he would start screaming. She could see it in his eyes and Martina who had always turned the television off or turned the page of the newspaper when it came to missing children could finally understand just how terrible it must have been for the family.

She thought she was doing a rather good job of hiding how terrified she was that first night, none of the Boswell men had commented on the fact that Joey had come back with her and the Boswell women were too tied up in their own mess to speak about it either. When the police inevitably were called she raised an eyebrow when they asked her what relationship she and Joey had and the constable looked rather scared.

Martina felt a flicker of pride underneath all the terror.

It was only as they were leaving having took photographs, statements and probably Aveline's phone number (if she carried on Martina was going to smack her all the way up the street and all the way down it) and only in passing had the police officer mentioned that they might have to check morgues.

Jack had slammed the door in his face as that had set the two other women off. Adrian chose that moment to come in the back with the father who looked like he had been dragged through a hedge backwards and began quoting what Martina was sure was the colour chart of the Royal Institution of Art with some dodgy sounding poetry thrown in and it was just as the grandfather came in for tea when she realised Joey was not there.

"Go" Jack said jerking his head upstairs. "Adrian and I can handle this"

"How?"

"Mam and Dad will tire eventually, Aveline will tire eventually, Grandad can get a takeaway. Besides once he knows he'll be alright. It's just worry making them all act like this"

Martina didn't think it was true but before she could say anything there was a shout and Jack pushed her towards the stairs.

"Go and make sure he's got his head on straight, seriously right now you're the only one who can get through to him. Just…don't suck his soul out like the vampire you are"

"Sure thing Mr Boswell" Martina said dryly. "And do make sure your Grandad gets to the bathroom in time—wouldn't want that incontinence money to be wasted"

Jack Boswell grinned at her.

"You know. I reckon you might be ok…in small doses."

Martina snorted.

"Just don't…don't hurt him ok? He's been through hell and back with that bitch"

"Who?"

"Roxy. She dragged him all over the show. Treated him like dirt and look…were not the easiest family—"

This was punctuated by a wail from the sister who had realised in all the chaos her nail had fallen off. Martina gritted her teeth and wondered if all that hair was her own of it she was going to yank out cheap extensions.

"But we love that little girl and we love Joey and she didn't…she didn't. And now…he's emotionally scared thinking that what he did wasn't enough and if he loses Isla then—"

He stopped abruptly and Martina realised that though he was acting as if he was in charge in reality Jack Boswell was utterly terrified.

"I know" she said softly.

Jack Boswell coughed, blinked and then nodded. Martina looked away thinking it might be the polite thing to do to let him get himself under control.

"Just so you know" he said when he had gotten himself back to normal. "When all of this is normal it's business as usual"

"Yes it is" Martina said smiling. "Especially now I've seen that you are not on the brink of poverty as you've spent the last decade proclaiming you are"

There was a pause as Jack Boswell let that sink in. Martina found that despite all the emotions swirling inside of her when she went upstairs she was feeling a little bit vindicated.

She found Joey in his daughter's room.

It was nice and clean for a six year old's room but it was clear that it was lived in. It was obvious to see from the shoes sprawled over the floor, the pens on the desk—the same pens that she had gone to Martina to charm her way into getting free—and the bed that was half made. The room was in a nice shade of purple and there were pictures on the wall and what looked like a chandelier light and several battered books and on Isla Boswell's bed, Isla Boswell's father was breaking her heart.

She went and sat next to him shutting the door on the family downstairs as she went and praying Jack would keep them away long enough for her to speak to Joey. Joey was clutching what looked like a really battered teddy bear in his hand and still saying nothing.

"You know that the police have to say things like that."

"I know" he said quietly. It was the first time that he had spoken since the police arrived.

"And you know that…that she's tough and she's—"

"She's not tough…she's a baby. And…I just…I always thought that I'd feel it you know?"

"Feel what?"

He looked at her and Martina thought that he had been saving the full depth of his agony for this moment right here.

"If she was dead. I thought I'd know…you know? Parents are supposed to know and I don't…"

"Joey she is not dead"

She tried to inject some passion and force into her voice but the reality was that she was afraid it had come over as rather week.

She didn't know how to do this. She didn't know how to not be involved in this family and this man sitting here. All she knew was that the thought of that sweet, cheeky little girl dead in the woods somewhere was enough to make her want to lie down on this bed and never get up again.

"Don't give me false hope Martina, and don't make promises you can't keep"

There was a long pause.

"Alright, then I'll tell you what you know. This is not your fault. You did everything right—no Joey you did, you did it all right, you work…ish…for a living, you are a single parent who loves that little girl with everything you have in you. And she knows that."

"You don't think she ran away then?"

"No"

And she didn't, Martina didn't know much but she knew that.

And that meant…

"So you think someone's got her?"

She wanted to say…well…she couldn't lie to him, not now. Not with everything between them. She couldn't look him in the eye and lie to him about his daughter.

"Yes I think someone did"

Joey groaned as if he was dying again and dropped his head into his hands Martina wrapped both her arms around his shoulders and upper torso as if to hold him together but she realised that his shoulders were shaking. She bit her lip as tears came to her eyes and pulled him close. It would have been a woman with a heart of stone that didn't and she was not that woman—even without being in love with him.

Joey clung to her his face buried somewhere under her neck and she let him get the emotions out even as her blouse grew wet.

"Sorry" he mumbled finally. She rubbed his shoulder.

"You don't have to apologise for feeling you know. Even if your brother thinks I am utterly devoid of such emotions myself"

Joey made a noise that might have been something resembling a laugh but did not move.

He gave another small shudder again and Martina tightened her grip on him and tried to do her best to keep him from falling apart. It was like she could hold onto him she could do that even though nothing was further from the truth. It seemed like everything and everyone was holding on to anything and everything that would keep them held together.

They stayed like that for a very long time.

She had been sat at the top of the stairs for an hour.

Or so it felt.

Since she had come home it had been chaos, she knew one of the Boswell brothers had been round but her Dad had said that he had known nothing about the missing Isla.

"You know something Lexa?" he asked over dinner.

Alexandra had shook her head.

"She wasn't in school this morning" she said taking a small bite of her mash.

"Hmm…well I told Boswell that if his brother needed help me and the boys would help. We've all got kids after all"

"Charles" her mother had warned.

"Don't start Elsie. We've all got kids, Boswell would do the same for me"

Her mother had rolled her eyes and had gone to refill the tea kettle.

Alexandra had pushed around her sausages and had felt sick.

What the hell was Isla playing at? She was supposed to go and see her Mum and talk to her not go jet setting to America. And she knew Isla. She knew that there was no way that she was going without telling her Dad. She adored him after all. And that made Alexandra feel sick. There had been something about that woman in the red car that had made her feel sick as well and she had not known what it was.

"Dad…you…you ever had a feeling about someone? A bad feeling? Even though you've never met him?"

Her Dad put down his newspaper and stared at her.

"Like who?"

"I just…just a kid at school"

"Well that happens from time to time Lexa. It's called gut instinct. And you listen to it no matter what. Now eat your food"

She ate but she didn't taste it.

And now she was here in her pyjama's sat at the top of the stairs not knowing what to do.

Isla was missing, her Dad was going mad with worry and the only thing that Alexandra could offer was the fact that she had been last seen in the company of her mother. The mother who had been out of her life until six weeks ago—the mother who was back but nobody knew about.

But Isla had told her that it was all going to be alright. That her mother was not the enemy.

But then there was that gut feeling.

Wouldn't it be betraying her friend though if she grassed now though? And grassing was a cardinal sin in her family.

She heard voices coming out into the hall and she scampered back up the stairs and into bed and down under the covers and she did her best to try and sleep.

She got no sleep.

And she still had no answers to her questions.

But she thought she knew what she had to do.

And that was better than nothing.

And there you are. Hope that you enjoy this chapter and I will do my best to bring you the next one sooner rather than later.

Next Chapter-As Isla plots her escape, Alexandra Yizzel arrives at Kelsall street prepared to confess and walks into what might be the end times. Some Trigger Warnings for the next chapter.