Chapter 61

"Archie..." She said with a sigh the moment she saw her cousin standing in front of her.

"Finally." The voice matched his looks.

Annoyed.

"Archie! Why are you here?" She asked with an abrupt voice and turned her back on him. She hadn't waited for a response from him. She was in no mood for any of his jokes, innuendos. Certainly she was in no mood for fighting. She had no desire to see anyone at that point.

"Well, excuse me for wanting to see my cousin before I leave for Paris. You were quite the party animal last night..." He said as he followed her.

Of course, since that peculiar morning visit by Christian at his house, he had to check up on her, despite the fake excuse he gave her. The way she let him in her house, fanned his curiosity which overcame his annoyance knocking her door multiple times without a response. He had started to worry even, truth be told. He noticed the way she walked, a tired shuffle rather than actual walking, shoulders hunched...Then she turned.

"You look awful!" He blurted and then regretted this careless, crass reaction of his when he actually noticed her appearance. How did he miss it when she opened the door?

Bloodshot eyes, puffed up...looking haggard and pale, hair a mess. She kept tightening that robe on her body.

"Thank you Archie!" She said back to him, sounding sore. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Now that you checked up on me, you can go if you want." Her green eyes stirred. She stood there, not asking him to sit down, or offering him something.

Despite her lack of welcoming being as clear as the day, it was equally very unexpected and deeply worrying, so much so that guilt washed over him. "Oh, I'm sorry sweetheart!" He rushed to excuse his previous tone. "You just caught me by surprise, that's all. You don't look well Candy."

He kept staring at her. Noticed how her stare was void of light, like a starless sky. How the pretence she tried to keep, even if brief, was melting away like fresh paint under the rain. That rain that made her green gaze sparkle.

"Candy!" He raised his voice, concerned by how quickly she was unravelling in front of him. He prompted her to sit down and he sat next to her. Watched the silent streams rolling down her cheeks. He gave her his handkerchief.

"What is wrong? Tell me, please! Why the tears?" He asked her after keeping quiet for a while, hesitating to prod, especially when he was privy of some things at least.

Christian's words echoed in his mind from that morning...

"And how do I know, once I've given you this report, that you'll disappear?" Archie asked back.

"Ask Candy when you see her tonight."

It looked like Christian had said the truth. His relationship with Candy had ended. From what he was seeing in front of him, she was really distraught about it. However he decided to let her reveal what she felt like revealing. Pretend he knew nothing of what went on.

The streams turned into rivers. She was in it, washed away by the intensity. What could she say?

Christian left her and she had no idea where he was?

Or that Terry attacked her?

Perhaps that Christian was Terry's twin brother and neither had a clue about it?

Nothing,

she could say nothing.

For the first time in her life, she felt absolutely and completely alone.

Archie's question was left unanswered. He decided to prod a little further. He was supposed to leave back to Isabel the next morning but he hesitated. How could he leave her like that? Even if he did leave, his mind would be in London.

"Can I ask whether your state has to do with Christian?

...Terry?" He asked her, referring to both men, feeling like treading on eggshells.

She bobbed her head.

Yes

"Either or both?" He asked her again.

Both

She said, followed by a deep breath before lifting her head up.

Two emerald seas of sadness. Heartstrings tugged tight. He sighed, trying to string things together in his mind. Terry last night had left in such a hurry and in a state he hadn't seen him before. Surely, it had to do with Candy. Audrey was also looked like she was helping him out. It was a mess. A drunken mess, that previous night. The more he thought it, the worse he felt. It must had ended in disaster. He should have expected it. Especially with Candy out of her mind on champagne and coke.

Then this morning, Christian... Archie had to admit it. He expected to feel happy, elated when he was wishing for Christian to go but instead he felt nothing of the sort.

After realising he was getting into deep in thoughts and theories, his Sherlock Holmes syndrome as Terry had put it, taking over, he stopped. It was leading nowhere to actually trying to guess exactly what had happened.

What was obvious was that - and he had to be said, he hadn't liked Christian - but he was aware that both he and Terry loved Candy. By the looks of it, she also had feelings for both.

He felt for her but he had to admit that it was impossible to think what would be like to step in her shoes.

Torn between two loves.

Between the past and the present.

Memories while wanting moving forward.

He was married but he didn't love Annie. To find love in the face of Isabel,

- without even looking for it -

some could and would accuse him for being cruel, a bastard, a cold womaniser but there was no doubt in his mind, which one of the two women he'd choose to spend the rest of his life with. Granted, it would be difficult to confront Annie and he would do so when the time came, but this...

What he saw in front of him, this anguish sitting firm and square on Candy's shoulders, pinning her down, causing her this pain, no, he would not pretend that he knew what it was like. He shut his eyes for a moment.

"Candy, I know I have acted in such a stupid way with you, while I'm here." He took her hand into his, wanting to keep her stare into his while he said what was in his mind.

He felt guilty having tried to persuade her to choose Terry, he had decided as much. Seeing her like that, why did he want to take this responsibility? Frankly it was wrong wanting to influence her to choose one man over the other. "And I had made it clear, I mean my feelings, I had made clear, I didn't like Christian."

Truth to be told. His secrets worried him. His connections, whatever those may have been with the criminal underworld was something he was apprehensive about, to put it lightly. "And I still keep my reservations about him." He added and bit his tongue the moment he said it.

Wanting to be impartial was more difficult than he thought.

"What I want to say in such an awkward way, is this." He said with a smile to apologise for his previous statement. "You need to follow your heart my dear cousin. Don't listen to me, or anyone else."

"Not even Terry." He added. "If he pressured you at any point." He felt her reaction to his words, her hand tensing inside his. "I am honest Candy. I cannot advice you because I cannot even imagine what is like to be in your place. As your cousin and a bystander, I can tell both men mean something to you."

Candy let Archie talk. He had no clue of her turmoil but talking about a dilemma between Christian and Terry, even if by that time, such a dilemma had died - still this dilemma had caused a lot of hurt.

"Don't listen to either one or the other. Christian or Terry."

"I'm thinking of going back to Pony's..." She finally said to Archie.

It was his turn to be surprised. "What?!" He asked, not hiding how unexpected was her statement. He got up. Let her sit down still, following him with her eyes. "I promised to myself to remain impartial in this. But I worry something really serious took place for you to want to take off back to Pony's." He finally said to her.

Candy got up. Archie examined her face once more. Last time she looked so distraught was when she had come back from New York that fateful winter day. After her break up with Terry.

"Sweetheart, whatever it is, you know you can tell me..."

"I wish I could, Archie." She said and snuck inside his arms. Archie was not Albert, but she was in need of a hug. Stay there for a while, keep everything outside that hug. "I wish we were all back to Lakewood...Stear, Anthony, Albert..."

Archie's stare got lost in the time. There were so many times he had wished the same thing in the past. But time goes forward, never back. And so is life. Only in our memories we can go back, relive, feel, cherish. He had gone enough pain, till he had realised there was no life in the past. He stroked her hair.

"Candy... we can't. "

Archie's words, brought her another memory. Equally profound and painful. When Terry in what she had thought back in her youth as brutal - it was his way to pull her from the limbo, having stuck in the past, grieving for Anthony's death. Archie was right. And it had been selfish of her to mention Stear too. She missed him terribly but she had forgotten how Archie must have felt to hear his brother's name.

"I am sorry..." She said and pulled from his arms. "You are right, Archie."

"There is no need to be sorry, Candy. But don't run away if you think that you'll solve with your absence whatever it is that torments you right now."

He sensed her hesitation to answer. The fighting inside her. It had been so innate in her, her natural propensity to run back to Pony's whenever something of tremendous importance happened to her. Every time her world would collapse, she'd go back to Pony's.

Up to a point that was to be expected and of course it was a good strategy to go back to the orphanage she grew up, be surrounded by the love of her mothers, be there for the children. Every corner and quiet place was full of love and happy memories for her, despite being an orphan.

But he had seen how she was when she broke up with Terry. After a while, she had withdrawn completely to this place, waiting for old age to come. When Albert passed away, she started changing into this daring woman who, come one day, decided that enough is enough and she uprooted herself to live her life on her own terms -

fall and get up,

be drunk with life,

love,

happiness.

Annie had criticised this but secretly he admired her. He was even a bit envious. That's why he jumped with both feet and arms even, when the opportunity arose for him to move to London for a while. So after all that, he felt in his heart that if Candy went back to Pony's, she'd regret it after a while.

"It may not seem true right now, but you'll regret it if you return to Pony's now, Candy." He said quietly. Dried the tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. "No matter what bothers you."

Sobs were rising on her throat. "But take the time, go somewhere, I don't know, be on your own for a while, to sort things out, ok?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry, I had been so cross with you, Arch." She said back and gave him a weak smile.

"I didn't make it easy for you." He said sheepishly.

"I know." She said while lifting her eyebrows to emphasise the truth. "Will you go back to Paris tomorrow?" She asked him with a soft voice.

"Yes." He didn't broke away from her stare. "I can stay if you-"

"No, no, no! You go!" She cut him. She didn't want someone else with her. Archie was right. She had to sort this out herself. "You go to Isabel." She added. "I like her...though that's strange for me to say. I feel I'm betraying Annie."

He pressed his lips to the sound of his wife's name. She saw the change in his expression. "I'm sorry to bring this up Archie. Please believe me, it is not criticism from my part." She rushed to explain. "I'm the last person to criticise."

Both of them had make their lives more complicated by trying to escape their pasts. He was already aware of that, so he didn't take offence. Still, it was a subject that was not easy for him to discuss. And that was not the place or the time for it.

"There will be the time to discuss all that." He said to her. He sighed. Held her from her shoulders and looked at her straight into her eyes. He brought her once more inside his arms and hugged her tight. He could stay...there was a moment where he thought perhaps he should phone Isabel and tell her about having to stay. But then again...there was something he wanted to say to Isabel. And for that, he preferred to be in her turf, the two of them.

"I'll phone you when I'm in Paris ok?" He said to Candy.

"Yes."

She did her best to keep the tears down. Archie had his life and had to seek his own salvation. They both walked towards the door. "Give Isabel my regards. I hope she does take good care of you."

"She does." Archie replied, his voice warm just by thinking of her.

"Will you take care also, Candy?" He asked her.

"I'm a big girl, Archie." She said and straightened her body. He pushed her hair back, looking into her eyes once more, deciding she would be fine. Kissed her on her forehead and bid her goodbye.

She followed him as he walked towards the car. Watched him go in, turning the engine on. Waved to him. Till they meet again. She then let the tears carve their dried up paths on her cheeks once more and came back into the house.

It was nearing nine in the evening and Christian had already been at his place for a while. Having returned back, there were a few things he had in mind of doing. First was to pack stuff he kept hidden in his apartment. These were Raven's things. They had to go. He'd throw them away, the clothes, the masks, the cards, the lot. Then his box with his personal stuff he kept in the dresser. That he'd take with him.

Who knows whether he'd be able to come back to this apartment...

By the time, dusk had started painting the sky violet, one more important letter was written. He closed it inside an envelope.

To: Detective Constable Robert Shaw

Licked the envelope shut. Took a drag from the cigarette burning at the ashtray. A heavy knock, urgent and loud made him almost jump on his chair.

"Christian!"

He heard Billy shouting his name. He froze for a moment. Undecided whether he should open the door or not. What if he was sent by Charlie?

"Christian, if you're inside, open up. Mate, it's urgent!"

He heard him say, with a quiet voice, not wanting to make a scene. Then he heard a groan. Someone else. Christian went inside the bedroom. Took his gun from the drawer. It was already loaded. Cocked it and walked back towards the door.

"If you do anything stupid, you'll pay Billy." He said back to him and flunk the door open with one hand, the gun on the other.

- TERRY! -

Christian was left with his feet glued on the floor and the gun still pointing to Billy. Terry was hanging from his shoulder. He was out of it, blood having covered most of his face, having run down his neck. His hair stuck on the forehead. Clothes stained, dirtied with dry mud. Billy made a step forward, not being able to stay like that for much longer. He had already climbed the stairs, carrying Terry with him and he wasn't a very big man himself.

"Can we come in?" He asked him but didn't wait for an answer.

Christian pulled by the side, letting the two men come in. Uncocked the gun, and closed the door.

"Go in the bedroom." He told Billy who was already in his way there. He tossed Terry on the empty bed, desperate to leave him down. He then turned and met with Christian's stare.

"What the fuck happened Billy?" He asked him straight away.

"Your loony friend opened his mouth and said the wrong things to the boss."

Christian's eyes opened wide in surprise, brows jumped up his forehead. "Where?"

"The Blind Beggar."

"Terry was in the Blind Beggar?!"

Christian could not believe what happened. However, the situation with Terry, as it was, did not allow for more talking. He turned and looked at him. He was in bad shape and needed care. Christian tightened his fists. This was the last thing he wanted. He left and came back straight away, with a bowl of water and a clean towel. Billy was looking at him.

"Will you help me clean him or will be you staring like an imbecile?" He raised his voice to him.

Billy held Terry up, and Christian took his shirt off. Thankfully there were no stabbing wounds. Though he had been badly punched, a fair amount of times. Christian remembered what had happened to him. The evening of the gallery opening, where everything had started going wrong. He wetted the towel. Cleaned his face. He had a deep cut on his right brow bone and a couple more on his top lip and left cheek, but not as bad.

"Got any booze on you?" Christian asked Billy. He pushed his hand on the inside pocket of his jacket and took a large flask out, gave it to Christian.

"My whiskey stash."

"Great!" Christian exclaimed. Took the cap off and splashed Terry's face with it. He immediately reacted. Flinched and coughed.

"Fucking hell." He shouted in pain and opened his eyes. The two men looked at each other.

"You're welcome." Christian told him with a sharp tone. To say he was annoyed, it was an understatement. He was fuming. This was something he hadn't expected or wanting to deal with. But then...he owed to Terry.

He gave the flask to Terry. "Drink up, you fool." He ordered him. "You'll need it."

Terry took a large gulp. Winced from the heat and the pain. Tried not to cough because it hurt so much. Christian came back with a needle and thread. He put the needle through the flame of a candle he had lit just then.

"Drink again." He told Terry for a second time. "I'll need to stitch your brow together."

Terry didn't object. Did exactly as told. With his stare glued on Christian's face, he kept silent waiting for Christian to take care of what he had set out to do.

"It'll hurt a little, ok?" He warned him. "Billy and I have done this plenty of times." He said and turned to Billy. "Isn't that right Bill?"

Billy looked at Christian. "True, we have."

"Do whatever the fuck you need to do, I don't fucking care." He grunted. "Didn't realise the twat would bring me to you." Terry may had been struggling talking but he wasn't sort on the insults. Christian closed his eyes and tried to control his temper. He had come to know Terry being a difficult character but this...he would gladly let him out on the pavement to rot for all he cared.

"You fucking dumb ass-" He heard Billy swear behind his teeth.

"I'm doing this so I don't have to owe you anything, ok?" Christian hissed to Terry. "Once I clean you up, we're even with the charities between us."

Terry didn't respond. Instead he took one more gulp from the flask. Turned his face to the left.

"Be done with it, will you?"

Felt the needle going in his skin and the thread being pulled through it. He grabbed the sheets with his fist, but didn't make a sound. His eyes watered at their corners while he kept them shut tight. He preferred he had been killed.

It was late at night when he opened his eyes again. Let them wonder around him, having his sight come into focus slowly. He didn't remember much but he was in a lot of pain. The encounter with the "boss", he hadn't forgotten. But where he ended up, he had.

He pulled the sheets and looked down. He was in his underpants. His torso badly bruised. Had some sort of a cream on his bruises. His face felt swollen and tight. He decided to get up. It was easier said than done. He moved as if he was moving under water. Slow. There was a dark blue, flannel robe next to the bed. When he managed to stand up, he threw it on him. Took a few unsteady first steps, getting his balance back and came out the bedroom. He entered the living room.

Christian had fallen asleep on the sofa. Legs spread on a chair in front of him. The flask on his chest. Terry came close, picked up the flask. Shook it.

"It's empty." He heard Christian's voice. Groggy, heavy, just out of sleep. Terry looked around. He remembered. Billy had brought him there. The twat...

"Billy left." Christian added as if he had read Terry's mind.

"You shouldn't be up, you know." Christian said again. Terry was in no state to wander about. His wounds may had been mostly superficial but he had taken a serious beating and he needed to be careful.

He kept ignoring him. Christian got up and went to the stove. Poured some water in the kettle.

"Brewing some tea." He said, glancing at a quiet Terry who was still standing, not paying much attention to him.

He had been in Christian's house twice before and he never had paid attention. First time around with Candy, all he wanted was to get out of there, having seen the red sofa that featured on the infamous painting, and the second time, in pursuit of Christian, having found him inside his father's home. To think that Candy hesitated to break it off with that man, no one really knew who he was and what he was doing...He felt his blood shimmering again just to the thought. There were several paintings stacked on the wall, all covered and wrapped with brown paper. There was a label at front. The first painting read:

Scarlet Rose - Whitechapel Gallery.

His heart beat in his chest.

thump - thump - thump

He went close. Tore the paper with one move. He cocked his head to the side, looking at her naked body half peering through the torn paper.

"I think it's time for the two of us to talk, don't you think?"

He turned. Christian stood in front of him, his stare travelled from Terry to the painting and back to Terry. He gave him his cup of tea.

"Sit down." He said to Terry. His face was serious, not leaving much room for misunderstandings. This wasn't to be a light hearted banter. He stared at him. "I have to say, I've done a good job with that brow." He said and squinted, focused on the stitches he'd done a few hours back.

"I thought we were going to talk." He heard Terry saying, sounding abrupt. "If not, I can go."

Christian's eyes fell square on Terry's. "Ok, then. Let's start with you - What were you doing in the Blind Beggar?" He asked him without beating around the bush.

Terry took a sip from his tea. "Why? Is it not permitted to have a drink at that place?" He asked. Of course he suspected why that question - since that was MacDonald's turf, Christian quite rightly had to ask him. But he wanted to draw information out of Christian, just as Christian wanted to take information from him. He too knew how to play the questions game.

"Not for the likes of you..." Christian replied straight away, "Now, stop whatever you're playing there and just answer what I ask you." He took his tobacco out, wanting to roll a cigarette. He offered Terry to roll him one too. "Any questions you have, I'll answer, once I finish asking you what I need to know." He said and licked the paper before rolling the tobacco in.

"So, I'll ask again - What were you doing inside that pub?" Christian asked again, having taken a drag from his cigarette. Blew the smoke forward. He hoped, Terry would cooperate.

Terry took his time. He could behave like a callous bastard when he wanted to, and he had to try hard not to be one when he stared at the man opposite him. In fact, it would have been easier if they started punching each other's daylights out. He took a deep drag from his rollup. Not showing any signs of cooperating.

His stance was depleting fast whatever reserves of good will Christian had in him. Having gone through what he had gone through so far, having put up with MacDonald and his thugs, facing war from all sides - to have an aristocrat sitting opposite him, behaving like a spoiled brat because he happened to take his lollipop from the playground...he could feel the steam rising, the anger pumping inside his veins.

He sprung up from his chair. Pulled Terry up from the robe he was wearing - he didn't provide any resistance. "You're trying your best to pull us into a fight and I won't do it." He said when he brought Terry's face at a breath's distance from his. A smirk dawned on his face. Infuriated Christian even further. His eyes sparkled, the muscles on his face tensed.

God my witness, there is only that much I can handle

The smoke from the cigarette snaked up to the ceiling while the war of wills between them was unrolling. The silence was heavy in the room. Christian let him fall down on the chair. Turned his back on him. One more look and he would floor him. Finish the job MacDonald had started.

"Go get dressed and get out of here."

Terry heard Christian's voice, hard, final. Didn't say a word back. Got up and walked back into the bedroom. A few moments later, he reappeared, all dressed up. Despite cleaned up, he still looked a real mess. How on earth he would show up at Claridge's, in such a state with blood stained clothes, a stitched up brow, a couple more cuts on his face, mud caked trousers...But that didn't stop him. He walked towards the door, under Christian's stare, who was standing close. He opened the door.

Christian took a deep breath. No matter how much this man was pushing him to commit a murder, he wanted him, he needed him. For Rose's sake, nothing else. He put his hand on the open door and slammed it shut. He looked at Terry. Apathy personified. And he knew that this was just a ploy, a play, a way to make him react, bring out the worst in him.

"What the fuck did Rose see in you, I really cannot understand!" He shouted in the end, erupting if not by fists, the anger spilled inside his words.

Terry looked at him. Her name piqued his interest but what actually made him turn was Christian's outburst. This particular admission. He had Christian's eyes on him, square on his face.

"So, now you're listening to me..." He said. "You fucking bastard." He added and bit his lip, looked for the half consumed cigarette he had left on the ashtray. He picked it up and lit it. Took one more drag. Narrowed his eyes through the smoke. "She dumped me, you know..." He said, spat the bit of tobacco he felt sticking at the tip of his tongue.

Terry who was standing still next to the door, followed Christian around with his eyes. His brows slammed together in suspicious disbelief. "You're lying." His voice came out deep and low, as if it wasn't his. Despite the immediate suspicion, his heart beat quickened.

"In no such words - she wasn't that abrupt - she never is, I actually had to drag it out of her, but she asked for time apart, because she has feelings for you...and she needed-" he said.

"Time to think." Terry completed Christian's sentence. Looked like Candy had pushed both of them away. He cursed himself. He had to go to her place, like the bull with the china and destroy everything. She had sent him to hell.

"How can she still have feelings for you after abandoning her all those years ago, it really escapes me - but Rose is Rose-"

"Who abandoned who, Christian?!" Terry suddenly cut him. "What do you know of my past with her?"

"I know enough." He retorted. "You left her in college to go make a career of yourself - of course now I know of the scandal and how you had to leave."

Terry let him talk. Gradually realising, he only knew half the truth, whatever Candy had shared with him. "Did she tell you about my fiancé? Susanna?"

The look on Christian's face told him that no, he wasn't aware of that story. "She was a sick woman, infatuated with me - but she saved my life and lost her leg for that. She threatened to kill herself if I didn't stay with her..."

Terry kept on. The realisation was dawning inside Christian's stare. "Candy - Rose, if you prefer, took the decision to leave, I couldn't take it, so she took it for the both of us, ten years ago." He sat down. Suddenly feeling empty, not having much will to go on. "You see, she didn't tell the whole story..."

"The woman I was tied to, my fiancé, died almost two years ago. I struggled a lot before taking the decision to find Candy again. But the theatre - Hamlet - our trip to London, coincided. I hadn't planned that."

"Fate." Christian said and crushed the cigarette in the ashtray.

Terry laughed. A bitter, resigned laugh. He grimaced in pain. How fate has screwed him around. Fate was the last thing he wanted to hear right now. "I stopped caring about fucking fate, long time ago." He said once the pain from his wounds subsided. "In any case, don't know what Rose said to you, she hates me now."

"And you found yourself in Bling Beggar, because you wanted to kill yourself?" Christian found the chance to steer the conversation back to what interested him. He'd have the time to process the rest of Terry's story, on another day. In the meantime, he didn't mind laying the sarcasm thick. He had such opposing feelings for Terry.

He was intrigued by him and at the same time, he wanted to beat him unconscious. He Infuriated him. He was arrogant, rude, selfish with a careless tongue. And then he was down to earth and modest and funny, a daredevil like himself. Right now, he had to put all feelings aside. He needed him to keep the woman they both loved, safe.

"I don't know what pushed me to go there." Terry replied, "I used to go there when I discovered I had a taste for liquor and fights, a lifetime away."

Christian didn't expect that answer. "So perhaps yes, I went there to kill myself." He said and gave him a hard smile. Before Christian dropped another question though, Terry pressed ahead with one of his.

"My turn, mate. Who's Black Feathers and what is your business with MacDonald?"

Silence spread between the two of them once more. Outside, the faint light of a bright new day had started creeping up on the horizon.

Inside the living room, the roles reversed. It was Christian's turn to keep quiet. To take a decision of trusting Terry with his hidden life, it was impossible to do in the space of a few minutes. He hadn't thought that far ahead when he had decided to ask for Terry's help. Where would he start? How could he excuse what he was doing? He was unsure whether Terry would understand.

He kept looking at Christian. He also felt incredibly tired. A searing headache had started pounding in his head. He decided to cut the story short. He was unsure where this conversation with Christian was leading in any case.

"To save you the concern whether you'll let me in your secrets or not, let me tell you - the constable already knows." He said to Christian.

The thoughts with which Christian was toying inside his head, froze on the spot.

"What?"

He jumped up from the chair. Started pacing like a caged animal. The panic attack he felt for the first time at the basement of the National Gallery, he felt was coming back.

"You bastard!" He shouted.

"That's what I told MacDonald too."

"You what?!"

His eyes bulged almost out of their sockets.

"Fuck!"

He pushed his hands through his hair. Terry may have felt suicidal but he was to take everyone with him with his thoughtlessness. "You fucking arrogant, stupid idiot!" He shouted once again.

"All I see is you and him will end up in jail." Terry told him. "I had warned you..."

"One question, you prick, before I decide whether to kill you now. Did you do all that before or after you realised Rose hates you?"

Terry didn't answer. Wasn't going to answer. Christian had been very good in deducing information. Had he regretted it?

He was on the fence about it. It felt vindictive and petty the way he had handled it but then again, he had warned Christian.

If he had been inside the criminal world, then despite Candy's anger

- if and when she would find about it -

she would have been better off in the long run. Archie would have agreed it to it. Still, there was a seed of unexplained guilt he felt, and he was getting annoyed for it.

"What do you want me to say Christian?" He turned to him, raising his voice too. "Yes, it was after if you want to know. But you left me with no choice either." He got up this time. Felt feverish. "The fact that I'm in the state I am is because I met with your partner and I happened to say you'd both go to jail, so please tell me that you're the innocent in this, who has been wrongly accused of something, and I'll go down on my knees to ask for forgiveness."

Christian didn't answer.

"Tell me please..." Terry pressed on, came closer.

There was still no answer.

"See...I knew it." Terry concluded.

"He's not my partner..." He heard Christian saying when he turned his back on him. Stopped him on his tracks.

"I was forced into this myself." He added, confessing to Terry. "But I'm not innocent. Far from it. Whatever I did, I did for my own personal reasons. And I acted alone. But MacDonald? He got a whiff of my achievements and when I wanted out, he trapped me."

Terry turned. This confession from Christian - he knew it was true - and he hadn't expected it. The guilt grew. He tried to subside it.

"That's all I have to say - I wish I could say more but I won't." He added. "For your own good."

Christian took a deep breath. Therein lied the rub.

"I need your help."

Terry looked at him, puzzled.

"Rose...Candy..." He said.

Terry was staring at him, having his full attention.

"Remember that holiday to the isle of Barra?" He asked him.

Terry nodded. How could he forget? It was that holiday that became the catalyst for what followed after.

"She needs to go away - she has to go away. For her own safety." Christian said. "At least for the next couple of weeks till I work things out."

"Work things out?"

Christian stared at Terry. He had been completely clueless where the underworld was concerned. "Do you think that MacDonald can go down just by one man, marching in the police station, while reeking of booze, telling them that he has some evidence of what? An acquaintance of his was seeing at a bar with MacDonald...big fucking deal, Terry."

He had been right of course. "All you managed to do is to made the Inspector Constable breath down my neck a little bit harder. MacDonald is a different kettle of fish."

"So you have a plan..." Terry said.

"I do - and it involves you taking my place on that trip with her."

There was a roaring laughter from Terry's side. So intense it made him double up with pain. He coughed hard.

"Didn't you listen she hates my guts." Terry said.

"I don't care. You short out your mess. She won't stay mad forever."

Terry didn't say a thing.

"Wednesday, 9pm, the sleeper train from King's Cross, leaves for Glasgow. You arrive there in the morning. From there to take the boat to the Outer Hebrides. Last stop is the isle of Barra. Mrs. Burns will be waiting for Mr. and Mrs Blake."

Terry raised his brow at the sound of Christian and Candy passing as a married couple.

"It's a small place. I didn't want to set off gossip." Christian explained.

"And if I don't do it?" Terry asked.

Christian smiled. "You will do it, because you love her... and I am asking you because I love her."

He turned his eyes down, wanting to hide the feelings mirrored inside them. "But it wasn't meant to be between me and her."

The seed of guilt kept growing inside Terry. He tried to overlook it.

"I've got a letter for her, to give her when you embark on the train." Christian said.

The sun had already broken from the horizon. It was better for Terry to leave for the hotel now, before there would be too many people at the lobby.

Christian gave him the letter and the tickets. "I'll make sure she's on the train. You just have to show up."

"I'm sorry, Christian..." Terry said, feeling the heaviness of his actions. Having not expected that night to take place. What Christian was doing out of love for Candy. Wanting to protect her.

"Don't be. Just protect her." He said back. "Whatever you did to her - you think she hates you and perhaps she does - there is always an apology to be given."

The two men separated. Terry took a taxi for the hotel. Inside he wondered where and when if ever, he would see Christian again. He hoped he would but there was a worry inside him that told him otherwise.