For Connie, the next few days crawled by at snails pace. The anticipation and fear of Thursday's meeting had made her virtually incapable of functioning. She couldn't sleep, she couldn't eat although she had no problem drinking, and the only constructive thing she had done at work was hire a general surgeon who she had yet to find a ward for. Ric kept a discrete but constant presence through phone calls and the occasional impromptu visit when he was in the area. He had convinced her with ease to sign off theatre until the meeting was out of the way, reasoning that she would be far too tense and distracted to be safe with a scalpel. As much as it pained her to admit it, he had a point. Conversely, Michael appeared to be caring less and less about her. When she arrived home after spending the night at Ric's, he had been livid, calling her all kinds of names and flinging all kinds of accusations. She attempted to convince him that nothing had happened – that she hadn't slept with anyone, or at least not in the sense he was suggesting – but it was pointless. At some point during that night, he had drawn his own conclusions and wouldn't be persuaded otherwise. She was seriously beginning to wonder whether her marriage was worth the hassle.

Ric had made her see a different side to herself. When she was with him in a one-on-one situation, she wasn't cold, bitter or manipulative, but instead open, honest and warm. Even in her inebriated state, she knew that she much preferred herself with Ric to with Michael. More than that, when she awoke in Ric's sleeping arms, in the middle of the night, she felt safe and loved in a way she never had with Michael. Being held wasn't something that Michael believed in but paying his wife any attention was largely beyond him. When Ric kissed her, for a moment her heart had lifted and she had kissed him back before the rational part of her mind kicked in, screaming that an awkward ex and a bully of a husband was quite enough to handle, without adding a lover who had quite enough hassle of his own to the already potent mix. She knew that the only sensible course of action was to push him away but it had almost killed her to do so. The small, reckless part of her was yearning to suggest getting on the next flight to Ghana and forgetting all about Holby but she knew it was unreasonable. She couldn't have Ric – didn't deserve him as a friend, let alone anything more, after the way she had used him and disposed of him. Michael was her husband and she owed it to him to attempt to make it work. But it wasn't Michael or Ric who occupied most of her mind on Thursday morning as the clock began its slow journey to midday. Then, there was only room for Phil.

As the morning plodded on, she read numerous proposals but understood none of them. She completed a stack of form filling, knowing that she would have to redo a large portion of them thanks to her complete lack of attention to the task in hand. She even pulled Donna in for an impromptu appraisal as a displacement activity, taking perverse delight in the young girls protests that it was unfair. Finally, eleven fifteen dawned and right on cue, the phone rang.

'Hi' she answered cheerfully, knowing who it was before she had even picked up the phone. She had known that he would call before she left the office to wish her luck and have one last ditch attempt at persuading her to allow him to come with for moral support. Normally she would happily take him up on the offer but she hadn't been entirely honest with Ric. Everything she told him up to the point that Phil left was the absolute truth as was the sorry tale of her father's death. There was just one tiny little omission that would undoubtedly come to light during the course of her meeting with Phil. The tiny omission that could easily alter Ric's opinion of her. The tiny omission that would elicit either pity or disgust when shared, depending on whom you were talking to. The tiny omission that she knew now she couldn't have Ric learning about.

'You ready?' he asked quietly and she nodded although he couldn't see

'As I'll ever be' was her eventual reply 'I'll see you later'

'I'll be in all afternoon' he confirmed 'if you want me, call'

'I will' she whispered, wishing that she was heading to the comforting if slightly shabby environment of Ric's flat rather than the park and a meeting with the ghost of Christmas past.

Chrissie barely glanced up as she saw her boss emerge from her office, her head remaining in the clouds as it had been for several days now. If she hadn't despised her, she might have been concerned but she had a deep suspicion that whatever was eating Connie Beauchamp would be a mess of her own making.

'Chrissie, keep the place ticking over for me' Connie barked as she passed the nurses station without bestowing so much as a sideways glance upon the ward sister 'I'll probably be back later'

'I'm actually going off shift now' Chrissie mumbled as Connie turned to her, a look of anger crossing her face

'What shift finishes at half eleven in the morning?' Connie enquired icily, conveniently overlooking the fact that she too was leaving work in the middle of the morning but unlike Chrissie, she hadn't arrived at 7am for an early shift.

'Mine' Chrissie replied shortly 'Charge Nurse Williams is filling in for me so it's all covered'

'Daddy's covering for his little girl? How sweet' Connie remarked sarcastically

'Hardly' Chrissie snapped 'I'm working a shift for him later in the week, if you must know'

'Good' Connie nodded slowly 'I'd hate to think anyone was abusing a position of power'

'No' Chrissie agreed, not sharing her personal opinion that Connie abused not only her own power but also that of her husband as well on an alarmingly regular basis

'Well, have a nice afternoon, Sister Williams' Connie gave a small smile and stalked off the ward leaving Chrissie open mouthed in her wake

'Isn't it time you weren't here' Tricia remarked as she approached the nurse's station 'if you want to…'

'Yeah, I'm gone. Don't worry about covering for me with Cruella, she already knows' Chrissie called over her shoulder as she quickly gathered up her belongings and followed her boss down the stairs

By the time Connie arrived at the park the drizzle that had been falling outside the hospital had become driving sheets of rain pouring onto every surface, making the whole park sodden. Stepping from the car, she pulled the collar high up on her coat, partly to protect herself from the rain, partly to protect herself from the prying eyes of the few other people in the park. Slowly, she made her way to the small booth on the far side of the car park and purchased a cup of coffee, not to drink because it was foul, but to keep her hands warm. Taking the drink, she went to the arranged meeting place of the bench by the bandstand and placed the polystyrene cup beside her. Unsure what to do next, she pulled her cigarettes from her handbag and lit one, pressing the filter between her lips and taking a deep drag. He was late, which was no great surprise. It had always been a contentious issue between them as she always insisted on arriving ten minutes early so by the time she had been waiting for twenty minutes for him to turn up late, half an hour had passed and she was always furious. She wasn't sure what irritated her more – his lack of punctuality or the fact that in twenty years, he hadn't grasped the fact that if you leave more than five minutes to get somewhere, you needn't be late. Even when she was meeting him at his insistence, he still couldn't manage to arrive on time.

Eventually she saw him pull up in his flash sports car and it occurred to her, she had no idea where he had found the money to buy such a car. She didn't know what he did for a living, where he lived or whatever happened to Rosie Lambert. She knew nothing about him and it was a state of affairs she was happy with. It was a state of affairs that he seemed adamant to change.

'Connie' he gave a broad smile as he spotted her but she didn't return it, instead firing him her coldest, most withering look, an expression designed with Phil in mind but more frequently used when Zubin was being particularly obnoxious in theatre.

'Phil' she nodded politely and there was ice in her voice 'can we try and make this quick. I have things to do'

'It's good to see you' he told her, pointedly ignoring her comment 'how have you been?'

'Oh you know' she shrugged 'up and down. It has been twenty years'

'Too long' he remarked sadly

'Not long enough' she told him firmly, sitting back down on the bench and taking a mouthful of her coffee that really was as revolting as it looked and smelled

'I'm sorry about how I left things…' he looked at her sadly but received only an emotionless glare in return 'I missed you'

'I hate you' Connie's voice was icy cold and she continued to stare at him as though he was the lowest form of pond life 'I don't want to be here. Can we please forget the niceties and get to the point'

'I want to know what happened…' he trailed off awkwardly and then took a deep breath 'did you keep it?'

'Of course not' she snapped harshly 'Why would I pollute the earth with your offspring?'

'I thought… when you told me you said you wanted to keep it' he stammered, utterly unprepared for the loathing that was coming off her in waves

'I wanted to keep you' she said in a slightly softer voice 'if I had to keep the baby to keep you, it was something I could live with'

'But you didn't want the baby?' he glanced at her and she shook her head with a small air of sadness

'No' she whispered, the strong, cold woman dissolving in front of his eyes 'I went to a place in town and then… well I never told anyone'

'Your dad didn't notice?' Phil asked, quietly incredulous

'He wouldn't know the difference between period pains and cramps following a termination. Why would he? Women's problems were all the same to him – a group of things he didn't want to know about'

'Did it hurt?' Phil asked although he didn't know why the conversation was going off at this particular tangent. It was hardly the point.

'Yes it did' she said simply 'I got over it quickly though. Then my dad died and I left Fraserbourgh for good. I don't know what else there is to tell you'

'Are you happy Connie?' he looked at her sadly, already knowing the answer from looking in her eyes

'Mostly' she shrugged but they both knew it was a lie 'I have bad days just like everyone else'

'Do you ever wonder what it might be like if…' he trailed off, not wanting to put into words what they might have had if he had acted with more sense and maturity than he had.

'No, never' she snapped, standing up and turning to him, allowing him to see the tears rolling down her cheeks 'you've had your half an hour. Leave me alone'

'It hasn't been half an hour' he protested, pulling her to him, amazed that she allowed him to

'You wasted the first twenty five minutes by being late' she sniffed, wiping her face furiously 'punctuality always was your downfall'

'You were always my downfall, Connie' he whispered 'I came back'

'You did what?' she stared at him, virtually speechless

'I came back for you. Rosie and I didn't last the journey to London; she thought I was her ticket out of there and into modelling. I last saw her on page three of the Sun'

'This changes nothing' she snapped, pushing him away from her but he pulled her back

'I think it changes everything Connie' he kissed her gently and she felt herself begin to melt into his arms as she experienced a surge of emotion she hadn't experienced since she was seventeen

'I'm married' she pushed him off her, gasping to catch her breath 'you're with Chrissie. You need to leave me alone now'

'Don't go Connie' he followed her and tried to hold her back but she brushed him away, storming to her car and climbing in

'I met with you, now you put your money where your mouth is' she hissed as twenty years of resentment flooded her and she was furious with herself for being taken in so easily 'get out of my life and out of Holby'

'No' he shook his head 'I don't believe that's what you want. You love me'

'No I don't, I love…' she trailed off, knowing that saying she loved Michael would probably be dishonest 'I don't love you. Just leave me alone now'

'Connie, don't do this' he muttered helplessly as she slammed her foot on the pedal and sped away from him, quickly disappearing into the distance. Breathing a heavy sigh, he turned and went back to his car, climbing in and driving off, his mind on what he had to do next. Prove to her he hadn't been duping her. That he was worthy of her time and her love. He had to leave Holby, Connie and Chrissie behind. As he contemplated the unpleasant conversation with Chrissie that lay before him, he didn't realise that he was being watched.