Eventually she managed with her trembling hands to collect her belongings together and locate her coat, pulling it on even though it was the height of summer and it was a thick woollen number she kept in her office in case the ever changeable weather should take her by surprise. She knew she didn't need the coat but she wanted to hide from the world behind as many layers as possible. Stepping from her office, she called an apology to Chrissie and beat a hasty retreat before the nurse had a chance to complete the dressing she was applying and demand an explanation for her bosses less than undivided attention throughout the day.

She descended in the lift, ignoring the surprised greeting from Harry Harper as she barrelled through reception and out into the car park, her mind on two things – escaping the hospital and finding a drink, all the hungover resolutions she had made that morning flying out of the window in the face of yet another huge hurdle in the week from hell. She wasn't about to risk The Bar again – meeting any more of her staff when she was more than a little merry would just be too humiliating and there was an outside chance that he would be there with Chrissie. She doubted he would be so stupid but she certainly didn't intend to risk finding out. She needed a bar where she would see no one and that ruled out virtually anywhere she had been before – Michael was a creature of habit and only ever drank at one of two places, both of them immediately eliminated unless she wanted him to find her, which she most definitely didn't. Since arriving in Holby, she only ever drank with Michael or on her own in her office, so her knowledge of the local bars was sorely limited. She needed somewhere off her beaten track where Michael wouldn't think to look for her so with a heavy sigh, she turned the key in the ignition and headed for the side of town so seedy under normal circumstances she would take a significant detour to avoid it. It was perfect; she would see no one she knew and it simply wouldn't occur to Michael to look there.

Pushing open the door to the first pub she came to, she almost gagged at the stale smell of cigarette smoke and warm beer. Even at three in the afternoon it was packed to capacity with overweight, balding men who had most likely been swilling beer since the pub opened at eleven. Immediately she was back in Fraserbourgh, the precocious eleven year old who had ventured out of the house, despite her fathers warnings about the consequences of such action, in an attempt to bring her father and brothers back to the house before they got too drunk to walk. Ever since that night almost thirty years before, she had never felt comfortable in pubs. Modern bars she was fine with, pubs made her skin crawl. It was only sheer desperation for a stiff drink that had driven her to even consider entering this particularly low class of drinking establishment at three o clock on a Tuesday afternoon.

'Today's looking up lads' the barman spotted his unusually exotic customer hovering uncertainly by the door and fired her a dazzling smile that was designed to seduce her but simply made her feel even more sick.

'Double vodka, straight' she ordered, sitting down on the bar stool that allowed her to maintain maximum distance between herself and the other clientele, at least half of whom she was convinced were contagious.

'I'll buy this one' said a silky voice behind her and she stifled a groan. He didn't sound like a beer swilling waste of space but what other sort of person drank in a place like this?

'It's fine' she turned to him and felt a small smile creep up her face 'you can't afford it' she added as the ghost of a smile became a proper grin at the sight of Ric gazing at her with a mixture of concern and amazement that she would come within even five miles of this pub.

'I think I can afford three pounds for a drink Connie' he said gently 'think of it as three pounds I can't use to place a bet'

'Or three pounds you can't use to pay a debt' she corrected, passing the bartender a ten pound note of her own as she heard Ric's rich, deep laugh echo around the pub.

'I don't think three pounds is going to make a lot of difference to my creditors' he chuckled 'but I doubt you've got a debt to your name'

'Not of the financial variety' she admitted with a small nod 'Michael is good for that at least. But I owe more favours than I care to count'

'Is that what's making you so unhappy?' Ric asked softly as he placed the drink down in front of her and gazed into her eyes 'Because there is something…' he trailed off 'Look, I'm not going to insult you by telling you I've always liked you or understood why you act the way you do, but I'm concerned. You aren't yourself…'

'In what way?' she asked, although she suspected that this was simply a conclusion he had arrived at following his discovery of her in tears in her office. She had to admit, it was the obvious conclusion to draw.

'I've been back for over eight hours and you are the only person who I haven't rowed with' he said with a shrug 'that isn't the Connie Beauchamp I left behind'

'Jess didn't welcome you with open arms?' Connie immediately grasped onto the lifeline of discussing someone else's problems over her own

'She was fine until I made a somewhat misguided comment about Zubin' he blushed slightly 'I still can't get used to the idea of them…'

'I don't blame you' Connie assured him slowly 'what about Diane?'

'That's another story for another day' he said slowly, not wanting to betray Diane by telling Connie what had happened; he wouldn't put it past her to use it as a very useful bargaining tool once she was back to her old manipulative self.

'Zubin?'

'The usual' Ric shrugged but there was anger in his eyes 'I can't be anywhere near him without wanting to smack him'

'I know the feeling well' Connie nodded, feeling slightly better as the alcohol entered her blood stream and numbed everything she was feeling

'The icing on the cake was one more grandma story than my sanity is fit for. I may have been a little harsh – she means well but…'

'Sometimes you just need to be somewhere else' Connie supplied 'even if it is… here'

'Right now I want to be somewhere else' Ric remarked as he glanced up at saw everyone else in the pub watching them with utter fascination 'I have a bottle of something very cheap and very alcoholic at my flat, want to take this back there?'

'Yes' Connie was on her feet, gathering up her coat before the question had escaped is mouth, she was so desperate to get out of the pub.

'You forgot your drink' Ric gestured towards the half drunk vodka on the table

'It was warm' Connie replied, already retreating towards the door

'Fine' Ric shrugged and downed the drink himself. His finances were slowly becoming less dismal but not so good that he could afford to let such an expensive beverage go to waste