On her way back the next evening, Rachel found herself walking towards the apartment building with her new next door neighbour. Not the screamer, but the man, who was holding a bunch of flowers, a bunch of white and gold irises.

'How are you this evening?' he smiled, as though nothing had happened. Rachel tried to make sure that there was no hint that she'd overheard what had happened last night.

'Good,' Rachel said.

'I didn't introduce myself. Stuart Fraser.' He had an accent that she couldn't place, some kind of English, maybe Irish – she wasn't very good at picking these things.

'I'm Rachel Green.'

'I guess you're an American of some sort,' he smiled. 'I'm Scottish, although I've lived most of my life in England, and the last six months here.'

'I'm from New York,' Rachel said.

'I've never been there,' Stuart said. She waited while Stuart had a rapid and bewildering exchange with someone else in French.

'I can't imagine being that good at French,' she said, as the someone else parted ways. She couldn't even pick out any words other than 'petit' and 'bebe,' and she couldn't be sure of those.

'You're going to have to be,' Stuart said. 'There are some really wonderful people, but you'll meet plenty of people who won't help you out. Wait until you try and order a coffee in broken French.' So far, Rachel had had people with her when she was out and about and she hadn't done that yet. She had to admit, from the impressions she got from the people at work, that unhelpfulness was not a surprise.

'What happens?'

'Some waiters pretend they can't understand you at all. That happened to me when I came here, and believe me, I'd made just one grammatical error. And don't get me started on Tu and Vous. A lot of them think that if you're here, you should be speaking their language properly, no excuses.'

'Oh,' Rachel said.

'I suppose we think everyone should speak English, no matter where we are, although we tolerate all kinds of grammar. We don't even know how to speak our own language.' As they walked into the garden, Stuart looked up at the balcony. The windows behind looked dark, so it seemed that no-one was home. That meant that Stuart could relax. But a sideways look told Rachel that he was far from relaxed.

'Excuse me,' he said, 'I'd better make sure things are all right there.' He broke into a run, leaving Rachel to follow. She wondered why things wouldn't be all right.

In the apartment, she reflected on her day. She had still not got a handle on how the office worked. There were the official lines of power and authority, and then there was what actually happened. There was, apparently, an office feud and Rachel was doing her best to keep well out of it, knowing that picking any side could make her life a misery. She could tell that many of her workmates were watching her closely, to see which side she'd choose. But even picking no side could be dangerous. She suspected that Marie was not as nice and helpful as she seemed, and she wondered whether she really had been told everything she needed to know. She could already sense that one office worker resented her, and she didn't know why, although she wondered whether that was because she had got the job that she had coveted.

Last night, Monica, who had been the one to call her last night, had been full of the things she and Chandler were doing. If not that, then it was what the twins were doing or what was going on with the new house. Rachel had found it impossible to ask how Ross was doing. Was he okay? Was he managing without her? Was he moping or was he running into someone new as they spoke? Either thing seemed terrible to her. You've left all that, she told herself. Of course you miss him, he's your friend, but enough is enough. She hadn't felt that good about it last night, and even now, after a full day at work, her mind returned to the topic.

Later in the evening, Rachel was on her balcony again when Stuart walked out onto his. Rachel hadn't heard any fighting this evening, so she assumed that either the woman wasn't there or the flowers had done their work.

'It's nice here, isn't it,' he observed.

'Yes.' Rachel glanced over. She could see the middle aged couple sitting out on the balcony, in deep conversation.

'I'm sorry I had to dash. My wife's pregnant, due any day now. Any time I see the lights off when I come home, I worry that something that has happened.'

'Wow, this is your first baby?' Rachel asked, instantly charmed with the idea. So she hadn't imagined the word 'bebe.' She felt proud of herself for recognising it.

'Yes,' Stuart smiled.

'Your life is going to change so much, you won't believe it.' Rachel felt a little wistful. The screamer, as she couldn't help dubbing her, had someone to be with her at this time in her life, someone with whom to share this event. It would mean so much more because it would be a shared experience. And she was lucky, because it seemed that she had a nice man… 'At least if your apartment is like mine, you should be able to manage,' Rachel said, 'There's plenty of room.' Surprisingly so, she had thought at the time, not that she had any complaints. Emma could always use the extra space. Looking a little sheepish he said.

'Yes, it would be a good place. Unfortunately, I've been given a great opportunity in China.'

'China?'

'Yes, it would be really exciting. But they want me to go straight away.'

'Oh no,' Rachel said. That was a bit of a disaster. 'You have to be here, of course.' So that was what the screaming was about. Suddenly, Rachel's attitude changed. If he had broken the news to his wife last night, no wonder she had smashed plates and left him begging through a closed door. She couldn't possibly to China when she could be giving birth any day now, and how could he not be there for the birth? And how could he drag her halfway across the world so soon after giving birth? She almost shuddered at the thought of such an upheaval when Emma was born. And even though she and Ross – well whatever it was that was going on between them, she would have been upset if he hadn't been around.

Stuart sighed.

'It's true, we've moved a lot since we got married, and we did agree that we'd go back to England for good before the baby was born.' It looked like they were too late for that, thought Rachel, 'But this is a great opportunity,' he said, with longing in his voice. What a time to choose to break a promise. 'I don't think she will leave me,' he said. Uh oh, Rachel thought, that announcement must have caused serious problems if that threat had been made, and Stuart was sounding uncertain. 'Although I know she's followed through on ultimatums before.' Suddenly, Rachel heard his wife call from inside.

'Stuart, would you come and help me with this, please.' With a quick,

'See you later,' Stuart turned to go inside. He didn't notice Rachel's face become rigid at the sound of the woman's voice. A voice she thought she recognised. Her? She was here? That couldn't be right, but all the same, the voice sounded a lot like one from the past. Emily Waltham.