Well, other than saying my computer wants to change Zubin to 'zucchini' – lol – I'll get on with it. I'm sure you all want to know what happens… Oh yeah, and the amount of people who told me that they didn't want Anita to die is quite amazing. However, not one single person said that they didn't want the Furby to die. Hmm…

The song at the end is "Nights In White Satin", and it is one of the best songs ever. Sounds great played on the piano, too (if you can play piano, then I strongly recommend "Making The Grade 3" – it has some great stuff in it!). I'm not 100% sure who sang "Nights In White Satin", though.

This is for Luce and Loren… love ya both! Luce, I don't think I could have written this part without your help. And Loren, just remember, we all love ya, 'kay?

*~*~*

Tom opened his eyes, and, trying to ignore the pain in his arm, glanced around. He was managing to stay fairly calm, keeping the terrible panic at bay, until he saw Anita. In that one instant, he thought that she was dead. And he didn't know what to do. One part of him was distraught… this was Anita, the love of his life, she was lying there, motionless, covered in blood, her eyes half-closed… He couldn't imagine his life without her. But another part of him was able to think quite rationally, and ask what he should do now. But that state only lasted for a moment. And, within seconds, grief had overwhelmed him, and he was trying hard not to choke on his own tears. He looked at Anita, concentrating hard, willing her to wake up. But she didn't. And, eventually, his eyes closed, and he slept, drifting in and out of consciousness.

*~*~*

Ric leant against the doorframe and watched Diane sleeping. She looked so peaceful. He smiled to himself, wanting to let her sleep. Unfortunately, at that moment, she stirred slightly, and opened her eyes.

"Sleeping, Mrs Griffin?" Ric teased.

Diane smiled sleepily. "Hi." She yawned and sat up. "I need to get people to call me that more often. Sounds nice."

"It sounds perfect," corrected Ric, sitting down on the bed. "Just like this whole thing. You, me, Olivia…"

"Mitsy," Diane added, as the cat padded softly into the room and sat on Ric's lap.

"Mitsy," Ric agreed.

Diane leaned against Ric, smiling. "You know, I don't think that I have ever been this happy."

"Not even when Olivia was born?"

She considered for a moment. "No. 'Cause now I have Livie, and I have you as well. Everything I ever wanted."

"You've always had me, Diane. All you ever had to do was say the word, you know." Ric glanced around. "So, where is Miss Waring?"

Diane laughed. "You only just realised she's not here? Nice to know how much attention you pay to her!" She smiled to show she was only joking. "Kath took her for the evening. Said that we'd probably want some privacy last night."

"I must thank her," Ric commented.

"She should thank us," Diane retorted. "Livie is wonderful company."

"Except for the fact that she wakes us up at five in the morning, and stops us from doing anything too noisy at night…"

Diane put a hand over Ric's mouth. "You stop right now before you say something that I'll make you regret."

Ric laughed. "Fine, you know I love her really."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Nearly as much as I love you, in fact."

*~*~*

Loren looked out of her window, and nearly screamed. In the road at the end of her garden, two cars were tangled together. As if that wasn't bad enough, she could see people in the cars. People.

She dialled 999, and rushed downstairs.

"Oh…" she murmured, as she saw the wreckage close to. She leant close to the window of the first car, and looked in. The seat was flipped backwards, obviously broken by the force of the crash. A woman lay unconscious, her face bruised, her eyes half-open, and her hands folded tightly across her pregnant stomach. And she looked… dead.

"Don't let her be dead, don't let her be dead," Loren whispered to herself. She felt for a pulse. Nothing. "Do something, oh, do something," Loren told herself sternly. She opened the car door, and, leaning over the woman's body, began to press down upon her chest. CPR.

It seemed an eternity until she heard the approach of sirens. But approach they did, and Loren had never been so relieved in all her life. She felt for a pulse again, and gasped in surprise when one was there. Faint, but there. As she stepped back to let the paramedics through, one thought was running through her head.

"I saved her life."

*~*~*

The phone was ringing.

"Leave it," Diane suggested.

"It might be important…" Ric protested half-heartedly, but allowed Diane to kiss him, and the answering machine to click in.

"Ric, Diane, this is Kath," came the voice over the phone. Diane broke away hurriedly, afraid that something had happened to Olivia.

"Kath?" she asked, anxiously snatching up the phone.

"Diane, hi," Kath sounded quite worried. "I'm sorry to wake you…"

"We were awake."

"Oh. Well, anyway, don't worry, everything's fine here, Olivia's fine," Kath hastened to reassure the anxious mother. "I need to talk to Ric, though."

"Ric?" Diane repeated. Ric, hearing his name, leaned over and took the phone.

"Hello," he answered Kath lazily.

"Ric, they need you at Holby… now." Kath didn't even bother to greet him.

"Kath… what? Why?" Ric asked, nevertheless standing up and opening the wardrobe.

Kath hesitated. "Tom and Anita were in a car crash. They were brought in ten minutes ago, and everywhere's desperately under-staffed. They need you, I'm going in early, but they want you and Diane to… well, to break some bad news to Tom."

"Bad news?" Ric repeated.

"Just get down to Holby. I'll meet you there with Olivia." Kath hung up, and Ric turned to Diane.

"I'm so, so sorry."

"What?" she asked, warily.

"We're going into work."

"What? Ric!" Diane began hitting him with the pillow.

"Look, get dressed, I'll tell you what Kath said." Ric began dressing, and Diane followed his example. "Tom and Anita were in a car crash."

Diane dropped the shirt she was holding. "Ric! No…"

"Kath says they want us in to break bad news to Tom."

Diane sat down heavily on the bed. "Anita? Is she okay?"

"Kath didn't say. She just wants us to meet her there. She's taking Livie with her… you won't mind, for once?" Ric knew Diane's feelings on Olivia being in the hospital. She didn't want her little girl exposed to more suffering than was necessary.

But this time, Diane had no objections. How could she object? How could she object to going into work the day after her wedding, when two of her friends were… who knows what?

*~*~*

Zubin was trying vainly to feed Olivia, whilst Kath was dressing. Olivia, not used to Zubin, wanted her mother, and didn't want to eat. She'd already thrown the spoon down onto the table a few times, and once, with extraordinarily good aim for such a young baby, had hit Zubin's head. He was just glad that he wasn't dressed yet.

Kath, despite her worry, smiled when she entered the kitchen and saw Zubin, covered in Olivia's breakfast. "Having fun with Uncle Zubin, Livie?" she asked, taking the baby.

"Well, Uncle Zubin would much rather have fun with Aunty Kath," Zubin replied, snaking his arms around Kath's waist, and kissing her.

"Yes, well…" Kath pulled away. "Not in front of Olivia." She swatted him away. "Go get dressed."

"Not without a kiss," Zubin insisted.

"Fine." Kath twisted around, gave Zubin a quick peck on the lips, and turned to the sink, beginning to wash up, trying to hide her smile.

"That'll do for now." Zubin ruffled Kath's hair, and left the room to dress.

*~*~*

Anita knew that she was awake, even if she didn't bother to open her eyes. She could hear noises… well, Tom always was noisy. She turned to roll over, to pull the pillow over her head, try and drown out the beeping and whirring noises. But she couldn't. Her side hurt, her head hurt, and when she opened her eyes, she was lying in an unfamiliar room. Where the hell was she?

Her eyes flicked around the room in a second – taking in the bustle outside, the darkness inside, the monitors and machines, the IV drip in her arm, the tube in her mouth, the blanket tucked tightly around her… too tightly. Her stomach was smaller than it had been in a long time. Oh god, where was her baby? She was beginning to panic when the door was pushed open.

"You're awake, then?"

She twisted her head to look, and saw Owen. She tried to speak, but was unable to, because of the tube in her mouth. Owen removed it, and she coughed for a second, and then spoke, anxiously.

"The baby… where's my baby?" There was barely controlled panic in her voice, and she was surprised to find that she cared so much.

Owen sat down. "In the special care baby unit."

"Wh… why?" Anita hauled herself into a sitting position, wincing. She felt terrible. She had never felt this bad, not ever. But at the moment, she just wanted to find out about the baby. The feeling in her throat was nothing to do with the breathing tubes. No tubes could make someone feel like this.

"We take all premature babies there, Anita. You had a baby ten weeks early, it's not something to be taken lightly." Owen paused. "But there's something else. Before we got you out of the car, something happened, and, well… your heart stopped beating for a little while."

Anita tried to take this in. "I was dead?"

Owen nodded. "But, although it's obviously not done you any lasting harm, we don't know yet what it might have done to the baby. At the moment, he can't breathe for himself, and… well, it's touch and go, I'm afraid."

"He?" Anita repeated.

Owen smiled at her, and adjusted the IV. "Yes, he. You had a little boy."

Anita tried to work out what she thought of this information. "Oh." Unlike Tom, she hadn't even thought of whether she'd prefer a boy or a girl. Tom had wanted a boy, then a girl, then a boy… he'd changed his mind twenty times a day, it seemed.

"Do you want to see him?" Owen queried.

It seemed as though she had to say yes. But she didn't want to. Not yet, anyway. She glanced out of the doorway. "No. Not yet."

Owen smiled at her, sympathetically. And his sympathy hurt so much.

*~*~*

Sandy and Ed were standing awkwardly at the doorway to Tom's room. "Should we go in?" Sandy whispered.

"You can…" Ed suddenly thought of something. "I'm going to call Josie." He walked off before Sandy could object. She sighed, and, taking a deep breath, pushed the door open.

"Mr Campbell-Gore?" she asked, timidly.

Tom sat up, cradling his painful arm. "Yes, Nurse Harper?" he asked, somewhat frostily, hoping that the tear tracks didn't show on his face.

"I just came to see if you… if you wanted anything." Sandy was feeling quite ill at ease. "Oh, and Mr Keating is calling Josie for you."

Tom nodded. "Thank you." He looked at his arm sadly. "I don't need anything, thank you." Just my wife, he added to himself.

"Are you sure?" Sandy persisted. "I can get you some painkillers if your arm hurts too much…"

"It's fine. My arm doesn't hurt." Well, it does, it's broken, but a broken arm is less painful than a broken heart.

As Sandy was leaving, he forced himself to call out to her. "Do you – I mean, have you – have you heard anything about my… about Anita?" He needed to cling onto the one shred of hope that told him that Anita was still alive.

Sandy shook her head, looking sorrowful. "Last I heard, she was up in maternity. I haven't heard anything for a few hours, though, I'm afraid."

"Maternity?" Tom's heart missed a beat. "Is she okay?"

"I really don't know, I'm afraid." Sandy looked towards the door. "I can phone Mr Davis if you want."

"I don't want to cause a fuss…"

"It's no trouble, honestly," Sandy assured him, backing out of the room. "I'll find out."

Tom lay back, feeling a bit happier. Anita was alive. What else could possibly matter? The pain in his arm seemed to have lessened… everything was bearable now.

*~*~*

Diane and Ric hurried anxiously into the ward, to be greeted by the sound of a wailing baby, whom Diane immediately identified as Olivia. They hastened towards Kath's office.

"Hey, angel," Diane greeted her daughter.

"I think she wanted her mother," Kath commented, handing Olivia and her pink bear over.

"And 'angel' isn't exactly applicable," Zubin added. "'Devil' might be more appropriate."

"Oi!" Diane protested. "You be careful what you say about my daughter, Prof."

"I'm just saying what I've noticed in the few hours that I've known her… she's certainly no angel," Zubin teased.

Ric decided it was probably safer to steer the conversation away from Olivia's nicknames. "So… is Tom anywhere about?"

Kath nodded soberly. "He's in the side room."

Diane sat down, Olivia on her lap. "What do we have to do, exactly?"

Zubin sighed. "Well, he needs surgery on his arm… broken in multiple places, at one point the bone's pierced the skin…"

Ric grimaced. "And we're doing that?"

"Afraid so," Zubin told him.

"But first…" Kath interrupted. "You need to break the news about Anita. Gently."

"What news would that be?" Diane queried. "Is she okay?"

Kath looked sombre. "Not really. When they found her, at the crash site, her heart had stopped. They got her resuscitated and stable, but when they got her back here, the baby was having difficulties. She had a little boy, by C-section. But…" She trailed off, and Zubin continued.

"He was deprived of oxygen, and basically, it's touch and go for whether he's going to make it." He put one hand on Kath's shoulder, and Ric, seeing it, smiled.

"Poor Anita," Diane whispered, lost in thought.

"Poor Tom," Ric commented.

"No… oh, it's going to be worse for Anita, much worse," Diane realised.

Ric nodded, and took Livie from Diane. "We should leave her here. Kath, do you mind…?" He gestured to the baby.

"Not at all," Kath replied. "She's a lovely baby… even if she isn't always angelic," she added, with a mischievous grin towards Zubin. "I think she just doesn't like Zubin."

"Well, can you blame her?" Diane asked, teasingly.

Ric took Diane's arm and steered her out of the room. "So… let's go see what Tom Campbell-Gore is like as a patient."

*~*~*

Josie turned her key in the lock, and pushed the door open. "Dad? Anita?" she called. "Anyone home?" She glanced around the hallway, and decided, from the absence of Anita's shoes and Tom's keys, that they'd already left. It was perhaps a good thing. She'd stayed out all night with a guy… something she knew that Tom disapproved of, although, as she'd told him many times, he was a fine one to talk.

The post was lying on the mat… that was unusual. Anita always picked the post up. Maybe she'd overslept that morning. Josie flicked through it… bills… junk… bills… junk… nothing interesting. It was tempting to throw it all away, but she placed it neatly on the telephone table instead, and listened to the messages on the answering machine.

"You have three new messages. Message one, received at three…"

"Get on with it," Josie mumbled, tapping her finger on the polished wood.

"Tom, this is your mother…"

Josie sighed, and pressed the 'skip' button.

"Message two, received at five…" the machine droned on, and signalled that that message had been left blank.

"Time wasters," Josie muttered.

"Message three, received at nine thirty-six." Josie glanced at her watch – that was about five minutes ago. The machine clicked in, and a fairly familiar voice spoke. "Josie? This is Ed Keating…" Hmm… that name sounded familiar. Who was he? "I work with your father, I'm his registrar." That's it. "I need to speak to you, so can you call me when you get this message, please?" He gave his number, and Josie wrote it down quickly. "Thanks. Bye!"

Josie, feeling apprehensive, began dialling. A woman answered. "Holby City Hospital, Keller ward. This is Diane Griffin speaking."

"Erm… this is Joanna Whitten." She paused, uncertain of what to say next. "Erm, I'm ringing to speak to Ed Keating, if that's possible, please."

"Of course." There was a slight noise as the phone was held away from Diane's ear, and Josie heard a shout of "Ed! Phone!"

In a few moments, Ed had picked the phone up. "Josie, hi."

"You said you needed to speak to me."

"Yeah… I'm afraid that, well, your father and Anita were in a car crash." Ed sounded worried.

Josie felt as though the breath had been knocked out of her. "Are they okay?"

"Your father has a broken arm, he'll need surgery but he's fine. Anita… well, she's stable." Ed paused. "It might be best if you came down here."

"Sure… of course, yeah." Josie began stuffing her feet back into her shoes, not bothering to think about the fact that she was hungry. She had lost one parent already. She couldn't lose any more.

*~*~*

"Tom?" Ric asked, pushing the door open.

Tom sat up and opened his eyes. "Ric. Nice to see you."

"I wish I could say the same," Ric said, allowing a chuckle.

Tom glanced apprehensively at Ric and Diane. "So they called both of you back? Something's not right, then."

Diane smiled awkwardly.

"Is it bad news about me, or about Anita?" Tom asked, bluntly.

"You're fairly straightforward," Diane said, quietly. "Broken arm… we need to take you down to theatre, to set it…"

"I know what you'll be doing, Miss Lloyd," Tom replied, impatiently.

"Mrs Griffin," Diane mumbled, but didn't dare to say it out loud.

"Look, Tom, the reason we've come is to talk about Anita," Ric explained.

"What's the matter with her?" Tom demanded, anxiously.

"She's stable, she's stable, don't worry," Ric hastened to reassure him. He gave a brief version of Kath's explanation, trying to soften the blow about the baby as much as he dared.

Tom tried not to show how much this affected him. He was nearly crying. His baby… his son. He had a son. Diane, guessing how he felt, motioned to Ric that they should leave. Before leaving, Ric paused at the door. "Ed's called your daughter, she says she'll be here in about ten minutes."

"Thank you." And, the moment that the door clicked shut, he began to sob.

*~*~*

"Nita?" Josie knocked softly on the door of Anita's room.

Anita, sitting cross-legged on the bed, staring at her hands, didn't look up as Josie entered. "Yeah."

"You look better than I thought you would," Josie commented, seating herself in a chair. "You haven't got needles in your arms or anything."

"Yeah." Owen had told her that, as she didn't need to be connected to any wires or tubes, it was fine for her to move around a bit, as long as she took it easy.

"How are you?" Josie asked, trying desperately to get some sort of response from her friend.

This did get a response. Anita's head shot up, and she glared at Josie. "I was in a car crash. I had to be resuscitated. When I woke up, I wasn't pregnant any more. I don't know what's happened to my husband. So, yeah, I'm absolutely bloody fine."

Josie shook her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't think."

Anita looked back at her hands again. "'S okay."

Josie put one hand on Anita's. "C'mon, Nita, don't shut us out."

"I'm not."

"You are." Josie squeezed her hand. "Talk… say something, anything. Tell me what you're feeling or something."

Anita looked at Josie, her piercing blue eyes almost making her stepdaughter uncomfortable. "You want me to talk? Okay. I'll tell you what I'm feeling. I feel guilty." She barrelled on before Josie could say anything else. "Because I didn't want the baby." The stare she was giving Josie was almost painful now. "And I don't mean that I had one or two doubts. I mean that, every single morning, the first thing I thought was that I didn't want to be a mother, and it was the last thing that I worried about at night. And now… now I'm getting my wish. I'm not going to be a mother." She looked back at her hands again, ashamed of her outburst. Ashamed of her feelings. Terrified that Josie would judge her.

But she didn't. She just hugged her. "Oh, Nita. Oh God…" And Josie wanted so desperately to be able to tell her friend that it would all be okay. But she couldn't, and Anita knew that.

*~*~*

"Kath, do you mind looking after Livie whilst we're in theatre?" Diane asked, entering Kath's office, Olivia in her arms.

"Define 'looking after'… if you want me to check in on her every so often, then I can do that. If you want me to entertain her and never let her out of my sight, then I can't do that, I'm afraid," Kath replied, apologetically.

"No, I'm not asking that," Diane replied. "It's nearly naptime anyway, so if I just put her down, can you check on her occasionally? We shouldn't be too long anyway."

"I'll do it, don't worry." Kath smiled at the baby.

"I wouldn't ask, but I… well, it's an emergency." Diane turned away so that Kath wouldn't see her face.

*~*~*

Owen walked into the special care unit, and stopped before an incubator marked "Baby Gore". He looked at the baby in there… it was always hard, to see this, but when he knew the baby's parents, it was even harder. He couldn't even begin to comprehend how Tom and Anita must be feeling right now.

"How's it looking?" Owen asked the paediatrician.

She looked up, soberly. "Not good, I'm afraid." She looked down to the baby again. "Not at all good."

*~*~*

"Like that?" Diane queried, stepping back so that Ric could see what she'd done.

"Very good. I'll tell him to thank you when he comes round."

"He won't have time for that." Diane finished up quickly, and left to reclaim her daughter. The office was deserted, and she sat down and began to talk to Livie.

"I don't know. It just feels like… like it's just an ordinary day, not like we got married yesterday." She sighed, and blinked hurriedly to rid her eyes of the tears that had formed. Olivia looked quizzically at her mother, and Diane laughed weakly. "Don't get me wrong, angel, don't ever think that your Uncle Ric isn't the nicest, kindest, most loving man alive. And I shouldn't be complaining, not when I think about what Anita must be going through, oh God, that poor girl! Just… sometimes it feels as though he's taking me for granted."

Ric, standing in the doorway, walked away quickly.

*~*~*

As Tom came around from the operation, Josie stood up and walked over to him.

"Hey."

Tom struggled to manoeuvre himself into a sitting position. "Hello."

"How are you feeling?"

He looked at his arm disconsolately. "As well as can be expected. Have you seen Anita?"

Josie perched herself on the bed. "I did."

"Is she…?" He didn't dare ask how she was. He'd heard Diane and Ric's version, but that was their professional opinion. Josie wasn't a doctor – she was Anita's best friend.

Josie paused. "I think… she's not too good, Dad." Before he had a chance to panic, she continued. "Physically, she's getting better. But… well, if there was ever a time a psychiatrist was needed, it's now." She paused again. "I think you need to talk to her."

Tom began to get up. "Right. Whereabouts is she?"

"Maternity, of course. But Dad, wait. They won't let you go, I mean…"

"Josie, I'm the clinical director of this hospital, I can do what I want." Tom stood up slightly woozily. The fact that he wasn't feeling well was nothing compared to the fact that Anita needed him.

Diane, alerted by the commotion, came in. "Why are you out of bed?"

"I'm going to see Anita." Tom's face was creased with concentration as he tried to put on his slippers with his left hand.

"Wait." Josie stood up again. "Before you see her, you should… well, you should probably know a bit about why she feels like she does."

Diane kept quiet, and stayed by the door. Tom didn't seem to notice; he was too worried about Josie's comment. "What do you mean?" he demanded of Josie.

"She feels guilty, Dad," Josie informed him. "Because she told me that she… well, she didn't think that… she didn't…" She trailed off, uncertain of how to put it. "She didn't want the baby," she finished, eventually. Within ten minutes, Josie and Diane had told Tom all there was to know about Anita's problems.

"Why… why didn't she tell me?" he asked, slowly, trying to comprehend it.

"Because you were so happy," Diane told him. "She didn't want to take away from that."

"But… she could have told me, I would have helped her…"

"Don't judge her. Sometimes it's too hard to say anything."

*~*~*

"Zube! Zube!" Ric hissed, catching hold of Zubin's sleeve.

"Yes?" Zubin stopped, and let Ric drag him into Kath's office, where she was seated, filing and singing a lullaby to Olivia at the same time.

"I need to talk to you two." Ric glanced over his shoulder to make sure that Diane was nowhere near.

"Go ahead," Zubin replied, sitting on the desk and reaching over to take a biscuit from the tin. Kath swatted his hand away.

"When you've finished fighting," Ric teased, before turning serious. "Look, it's about Diane."

"Trouble in Paradise already?" Kath queried.

"Something like that." Ric shook his head. "Look, I think Diane feels that I'm taking her for granted."

"Why?"

"Because she said so," Ric said, sheepishly. "I need to make her realise that I'm not, and that I don't think today is just a normal day. So I've got a favour to ask."

*~*~*

Tom knocked on the door of Anita's room gently, and went in. She looked up automatically as he entered, and Tom was struck by how young she looked. She was thirty, nearly thirty-one, but at that moment, she looked more like twenty. She looked young, vulnerable, wounded. Ever since he had known Anita, she had been the one in control. She was independent, she didn't need help, she was 'together'… but today she wasn't.

She was sat, cross-legged, on the bed, amidst crumpled blankets and sheets. She wasn't crying, but her eyes were red-rimmed. Her long hair was hiding her face, providing shelter from the outside world. She was picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of her jumper, and she was studiously not looking at a scrap of paper on the bed. To most people, she would have looked hideous. To Tom, she had never looked more beautiful.

When she saw him, she smiled slightly. "Tom."

He sat down next to her on the bed, and took one of her hands in his. "Anita." He picked up the scrap of paper, and looked at it. It was a photo. "Is this him?"

"No, they just gave me a photo of a random baby." She winced as she heard the words. She hadn't willed them… they had just come. "I'm sorry."

He squeezed her hand. "Don't worry. Have you seen him?" He held the photo out to her, and she turned away. She didn't want to look at it… at her son. Her baby.

"No." This was it, she had to tell him, she needed to. But she didn't want to. She couldn't bear to see the hurt in his eyes. But she had to. "Tom, I… about the baby, I need to tell you…"

He put a finger on her lips. "I know. And I'm so sorry. Why didn't you say something? Anita, I never would have forced you into something that you didn't want to do. I love you too much to do that."

He knew. He knew, and he still loved her. How could he do that? "How…?" she asked, half-forming the question.

"Josie and Diane told me." He put his good arm around her. "I'm not judging you. I'd never do that. I'm sorry that I was so enthusiastic, I know I must have hurt you so much."

"Why are you sorry?" she whispered, taking hold of his bad arm and holding it gently. "I'm the one who should be sorry… this is all my fault."

"How?"

"I didn't want him… I prayed, oh, Tom, I have never prayed in all my life, not since I was a child, and I prayed, prayed, that I wouldn't have to be a mother. And now… now I'm not going to be." Tears were making their way down her cheeks now, visible even through the veil of hair.

It hurt Tom to hear Anita say that, but he knew that she was young, that her career meant a lot to her, that they hadn't planned the baby. Unbidden, images of Jenn, Josie's mother, flooded his mind. How had she reacted when Josie was born? He would never know. How would he have reacted if he had stayed, if he had even known that Jenn had been pregnant? He would never know. Those were opportunities that he had lost. But this… this, he hadn't lost, not yet. And Anita had not lost her chance to get to know this baby. To love this baby.

"No. This is not your fault, not at all, Anita." He kissed her hair. "Nothing in this is your fault. The driver of the other car was drunk. Zubin told me." He handed her a tissue. "Do you want to see him?" he asked, tentatively.

Anita opened her mouth to say no. She wasn't ready. She couldn't do it. That would be as though she was accepting it. She couldn't accept it. But suddenly, from deep inside of her, came feelings, feelings that contrasted everything she had ever felt before. It was as though someone had knocked her down. She was reeling from it; it was like a deep grief, as though she had lost someone she loved; it was a sickness, a feeling that she had one chance to do this, and if she didn't take the chance, she would regret it forever. Carpe diem – seize the day. And she looked up at Tom, and spoke.

"I'd like to."

*~*~*

"Ric, why on earth have you brought me up to the roof, of all places…?" Diane's protestations trailed off as she saw the "picnic" that Kath and Zubin had set up for them. "Oh, Ric!"

Ric smiled at her. "Don't you ever think that I take you for granted, Diane. I love you, just remember that."

"Like I could ever forget."

Ric laughed, spotting the portable CD player that Zubin had brought up. "Oh dear… how tacky."

Diane followed his glance. "How's that tacky?"

"You don't know Zubin's taste in music, do you?" Ric asked. "The soppiest stuff ever."

Diane shrugged. "It can't be that bad."

"We'll see." Ric pressed 'play', and waited a moment.

"Not tacky at all," Diane commented, as she heard the first few lines of the song.

*~*~*

Nights in white satin,
Never reaching the end,
Letters I've written,
Never meaning to send.
 
*~*~*
 
"This was the first song we danced to, wasn't it?" Diane reminisced.
 
"It was," he agreed, smiling. He held out his hand. "May I have this dance, Mrs Griffin?"
 
Diane laughed. "You may." As she laid her head on Ric's shoulder, she felt guilty for thinking that he was taking her for granted. She was so lucky. So unbelievably lucky. It almost felt wrong that she should be so lucky. Things like this didn't happen to her. For so long, her life hadn't gone well… and now, well, it was more than making up for all those horrible times. 
 
*~*~*
 
Beauty I'd always missed
With these eyes before,
Just what the truth is
I can't say anymore.
 
*~*~*
 
Anita felt Tom's hand on her shoulder, and was glad of it. She needed his support more than ever at the moment. Owen led them into the room, and left them alone. There was total silence as Anita looked at the baby. All the time she had been pregnant, she had been unable to think of him as a real baby. She had been unable to care about him, to love him. But this… this was different. This wasn't a white smudge on a black screen, it was a baby. 
 
"He looks like you," Tom whispered. It was true. Anita had never believed that babies could look like their parents… they were just babies. They all looked the same. But this baby didn't. He looked… Anita almost hesitated in thinking it, but he looked like her baby. He was her baby, no matter how much she'd tried to deny it. 
 
"He does," she agreed, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. "He really does."
 
*~*~*
 
'Cause I love you,
Yes, I love you,
Oh, how, I love you.
 
*~*~*
 
"I think she's asleep," Zubin commented, laying Olivia in the pushchair. He looked at her gently. "I'll always regret not spending more time with Sahar when she was that age."
 
"I'm sure Diane will let you spend time with Livie if you ask nicely," Kath told him. She glanced up uncomfortably. "Zubin… about last night…"
 
Zubin looked up. "Is this where you tell me that it was just a bit of fun and must go no further?"
 
"No. Oh, no, how could you think that?" She hoped desperately that that wasn't what Zubin thought. 
 
"It seemed the natural thing to assume," he replied.
 
"That's not what I meant at all!" She took a deep breath. "What I was going to say was… well, if you wanted, then… then, well…" She hoped that he would catch what she was trying to say, and put her out of her misery. This was too hard. No self-respecting woman should ever have to go through this. 
 
Zubin smiled at her, guessing what she was thinking. "I do want." 
 
*~*~*
 
Gazing at people,
Some hand in hand,
Just what I'm going through 
They can understand.
 
*~*~*
 
"This is all my fault," Anita whispered, partly to Tom, but partly to herself. The guilt was intensified, so much, by seeing the baby in front of her. The child whose life she had affected. A tiny defenceless baby, and she had prayed for him to die. She had caused this, she was the reason he was lying there, his eyes screwed shut and his tiny body covered in tubes and wires. 
 
Tom gripped her hand. "Anita, this is not your fault at all. Whatever you felt has not affected anything. The only person who was at fault is the bastard who was drunk at the wheel, okay? You have done nothing wrong."
 
It didn't convince her, not by far, but it helped. Slightly. 
 
*~*~*
 
Some try to tell me
Thoughts they cannot defend,
Just what you want to be
You will be in the end,
 
*~*~*
 
 Chrissie groaned as she sank into a chair. "Oh, God, I wish I could just have the baby today and be done with it."
 
Owen smiled, and started rubbing her stomach. "Don't wish that, love." He looked sorrowfully at Katie, playing pat a cake with Amanda in the corner of the room. "Don't rush anything."
 
Chrissie placed her hand on Owen's. "What's the matter?"
 
He looked back at his wife. "Do you know Anita Campbell-Gore?"
 
Chrissie nodded, remembering the quiet woman from two nights previously. "Yeah, I met her at Diane's the other day."
 
"She was seven months pregnant," Owen informed her. "She and Tom were in a car crash last night. They brought Anita in this morning, and she was… well, in a bad way, to put it simply. She's recovering, but we had to deliver the baby." Chrissie looked at him, an unasked question on her lips, and Owen shook his head. "No."
 
Chrissie laid her head on Owen's shoulder. "Oh God. Poor Anita." She looked around, taking in the scene in the living room – her precious baby girl, her beloved husband, the stepdaughter whom she loved as though she were her own, and finally, the presence of the new baby. She felt very lucky.
 
*~*~*
 
And I love you,
Yes, I love you,
Oh, how, I love you.
Oh, how, I love you.
 
*~*~*
 
"What do you want to call him?" Tom queried.
 
"You liked Benjamin," Anita replied, not really thinking.
 
"I asked what you wanted to call him, Anita." He knew, somehow, inexplicably, that he needed to get her to understand this. And she knew, somehow, inexplicably, that he felt this was important. Deep down, she could see, somehow, that this was a step towards acceptance. Accepting that this was her baby. And so she thought. Not just idle, pretending to think, as she had done whenever Tom had asked her opinions on anything baby-related in the past. She gave her whole attention to it, wanting not to mess this up, not like she had messed up the rest of this child's life. The least she could do was give him a name. It would be something that she had done for him as a mother. Maybe the only thing she could do for him. 
 
Of its own accord, her hand reached out and touched the baby's cheek. "Gabriel."
 
*~*~*
 
Nights in white satin,
Never reaching the end,
Letters I've written,
Never meaning to send.
 
*~*~*
 
Diane giggled as Ric handed her a sandwich. "This is quite weird."
 
"What, you mean you've never eaten sandwiches on the roof of the hospital before?" he joked.
 
"You know, I don't think I have," Diane replied, after considering it sarcastically for a few moments. She glanced up as she felt a drop of water on her nose. "I think it's raining."
 
Ric sighed. "Typical luck." He began to pack away their picnic, and they got up, making their way to the door. "It was fun whilst it lasted, though."
 
"It really was," Diane agreed, kissing him.  They broke apart after a few moments, laughing, as they realised that the rain was getting heavier. Diane led the way through the corridors, back to Kath's office.
 
*~*~*
 
Beauty I'd always missed
With these eyes before,
Just what the truth is
I can't say anymore.
 
*~*~*
 
Olivia woke up as Diane lifted her out of the pushchair. "I hope she wasn't too much trouble," Diane said to Kath.
 
"She's an angel, like you said," Kath replied.
 
"She is, isn't she?" Diane asked, proudly. She smoothed the baby's hair down gently, and glanced at her watch. "We should go, Ric, we need to get Livie to bed and to sleep."
 
Ric laughed. "She seemed to be sleeping just a moment ago…" He stopped as Diane glared at him. "But you're her mother, you know best."
 
"Thank you. Wave bye-bye to Aunty Kath and Uncle Zubin, then," Diane told Olivia, who obediently waved. But, as Diane laughingly told her baby to say goodbye, Anita was tearfully praying that her own baby would not say goodbye. Not now. Not ever.
 
*~*~*
 
'Cause I love you,
Yes, I love you,
Oh, how, I love you.
Oh, how, I love you.
 
*~*~*
 
There is one more part to come (I know I said it was only going to be three parts, but I, erm, changed my mind). And then I'm gonna do an epilogue… so you're not getting rid of me for a while yet! *hears groans*