Irene pulled up at the jail car park and switched off the car's engine. She looked across at Tasha in the passenger's seat; she looked so small and delicate – so vulnerable. "Are you sure you want to go through with this love, because we can just turn around and head straight back – no problems."

"No, I have to do this, and on my own. Irene, I need you to stay here in the car."

"Oh no you don't girlie, I'm coming in with you. There's no way I'm letting you face him alone."

"Reenie, I'm not asking," Tasha said in a small but defiant voice and looked at Irene with determined eyes. Irene sighed; she didn't like this. She thought it was too soon and the fact she hadn't wanted to bring Robbie and now wouldn't even let her come in only caused her more worry.

"Love, I'm really not comfortable with this. You may think you can do this now, but when you get in – when you see him – I mean who knows how you'll feel."

"I know Irene, but what can I do? Just let him haunt my every waking, and sleeping, moment? Give me panic attacks? Destroy my marriage? I don't really have a choice." She looked at Irene and then quickly opened the car door and stepped out before she could change her mind. "I'll be back soon," she said and shut the door behind her. Turning to face the jail and the guards waiting for her she wondered if she had made the right decision. It all looked so foreboding and sinister. Before she could change her mind however she strode to the entrance, preparing herself to face the man whom she dreaded seeing more than anyone.

Jack banged on the door of the diner apartment. No answer. He banged again, still no answer. Was no one home or was Martha just not answering the door he wondered. "Martha," he shouted and banged again. He waited, still no answer. Maybe she's just not home he thought and took the stairs back down into the diner kitchen. At that moment Alf walked in. "Alf," Jack called to him, "have you seen Martha around?"

"Yeah, she's doing a shift at the bar. She wasn't rostered on but practically begged me for the work. Must be short on cash or something. Actually, maybe you can cheer her up, because I just came from there and I'll tell you something for nothing, she had a face like a dog's breakfast." Jack looked at him, slightly surprised. "So, Martha didn't say anything to you? About us, I mean?"

"Us – you and me?"

"No Alf, Martha and I!"

"No, why the flamin' heck would she mate?"

"Ah no reason. Ok, thanks Alf, I'll catch you later." With that he darted out the diner door before being tied down by a classic Alf interrogation. Alf meanwhile shook his head and continued on up to the apartment, more worried about getting his gear to go fishing than what was going on with his granddaughter and her boyfriend.

Jack stood in the doorway of the bar and looked at her. She hadn't seen him yet as her head was bent over a table picking up empty beer glasses. Studying her – her long, thick chestnut hair tied loosely into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, her tall, imposing figure clad in her trademark boots and work dress, he suddenly felt less sure of himself. What if she didn't accept his explanation, what if she didn't believe him, or listen to him, and it really was over? That scared him. That beautiful girl bent over that table would no longer be tied to him in any meaningful way, no longer be a part of his life. Could he handle that? He didn't even want to contemplate it. He took a deep breath and walked up to her. Just as he was about to say her name she spun around and saw him standing there. A look of surprise, then anger, registered on her face, before she swept past him without saying a word and placed the dirty glasses on the bar top. He followed her over to the bar.

"Martha before you kick me out, just let me say this. I know you hate me at the moment but you honestly have got the wrong end of the stick. If you could just give me five minutes of your time to hear my side of the story I promise you will realise none of this is what you think. Five minutes, that's all I ask."

Martha stared at him for what seemed like an eternity to Jack but was probably less than ten seconds. Her face was a picture of studied coolness. She finally broke the silence with an icy response.

"Can you not see I'm working? Or do you expect me to just drop what I'm doing and listen to you, because what, I have nothing better to do with my time? Do I come into your workplace and harass you? No, I let you get on with things – which clearly you did – but that's a story I'm no longer interested in." With that she turned around and started wiping the opposite bench top. Jack realised this wasn't going to be an easy sell.

"I'll wait then," he said to her back.

"My shift finishes in three hours and I don't have any breaks, and even if I did, I wouldn't waste them on you." She hadn't turned around when she said this, as though she didn't want to waste a further ounce of energy on him.

Jack decided to ignore the last comment. "That's fine, I can wait three hours."

"Well that's great Jack, I'm so glad you have nothing better to do with your time, but we actually don't appreciate sad little losers taking up seats that could be used by paying customers."

"No, no, I'll have a soda water thanks, and some nuts. And keep them coming if you don't mind, the soda waters that is, nuts always make me thirsty." Jack laughed nervously; he didn't want any alcohol affecting him when he spoke to Martha.

Martha finally turned around and gave him a withering glance. "Fine, suit yourself – it's your time that you're wasting." In tense silence Jack took a seat at the bar and Martha went to pour him his drink.