A/N: Another chapter for you all. Fair warning, the length of these chapters will vary dramatically. There are some lengthy ones coming up, depending on what the story demands. Don't yell at me!


Sam hardly needed anyone else to tell her how badly she'd screwed up, both personally and professionally. When she arrived at the shooting scene and saw two dead bodies and Ken Drummond being carted off with a bullet in his shoulder she blamed herself for taking her foot off the gas. She'd been distracted, just like everyone said she was, even if much of this case was unexplained. Her instinct was still to go on the offensive though. She tried to take charge of the carnage alongside Gina but after Superintendent Okaro called and demanded to know what had happened she was even snippy with one of her best allies. Everything was slipping away from her and she headed back to the station to hold a briefing wondering how the hell she was going to get through this day. At least Abi was at home, safe and hopefully a little more content than she had been in recent days. It was the one consolation she had right now.

Back at Sun Hill, she made a beeline for the bathroom. If she was to lead a briefing with the likes of Debbie McAllister smugly watching her she needed to at least look like she was in control of herself, if not the situation as a whole. Walking along the corridor, though, she saw Sheelagh coming in the opposite direction half-reading a file and slowed her step. The bridges she had to mend there might not be as urgent as the shooting of a colleague but it was something tangible she could do and she still had – she checked her watch – ten minutes before she had to be upstairs. After Sheelagh's help bringing Abi in this morning and that bizarre moment the three of them had shared in the Sergeants' Office she had to believe her apology wouldn't be in vain.

Sheelagh hadn't seen her yet and would've walked straight past had Sam not tentatively held out a hand. Instantly alert, Sheelagh glanced up, guarded at first before a worried smile slipped onto her face. It was as though the last few days had never happened, that the moment when Sheelagh leaned forward and kissed her cheek as a thank you for berating Debbie's strong-arm tactics had been only an hour ago. With that compassionate expression on Sheelagh's face, she could believe an apology wasn't necessary, that things were as they had been before. But that wasn't the point.

'How's Ken?' Sheelagh questioned after a moment of silence.

'Gary's gone with him to the hospital,' Sam replied. 'We're lucky it wasn't worse. Two dead men on that service road and Ken could've easily joined them. It doesn't bear thinking about.'

'Then don't,' advised Sheelagh, that same old wise kindness in her eyes.

'Yeah,' she murmured then she gestured towards the bathroom. 'Have you got a minute?'

Nodding, Sheelagh followed her through the door. Thankfully, there was no one else around and Sam was able to take a few seconds to gather herself together. She felt rather than saw Sheelagh avert her gaze and appreciated her all the more in that instant.

'I'm sorry,' Sam managed finally, raising her eyes hesitantly. 'I was scared. That's what it comes down to – I was scared. When I thought of telling you, I couldn't picture myself doing it.'

Sheelagh's forehead was furrowed. 'Why?'

'I thought you might hate me for it,' she admitted with a chuckle. Then, when Sheelagh opened her mouth to argue, she hastily went on, 'Let me finish. I was trying to stay in control, yeah. I know that was a big part of it. Telling people meant it was real, it was happening. I didn't want to face it but you were right. You're my friend. You're a good friend,' she added with a smile, 'someone I value deeply. And I didn't want to screw it up. I didn't want to disappoint you.'

'I'd ask how you could think that,' Sheelagh murmured, 'but it's you. You're capable of anything.'

Leaning back against the sink, Sam massaged her stinging eyes. 'I've got to lead a briefing in five minutes.'

'We don't have to do this now,' said Sheelagh.

'I'm ashamed,' Sam continued. 'Not of Abi, never of her. I'm ashamed of me and all the decisions I made to get us to this point. I didn't know who he was,' she said quickly, blinking away a tear.

Sheelagh stretched out a hand to her shoulder, rubbing little circles through her jacket. 'You really thought I'd think that?'

'No,' she said, 'not really. But I haven't got the best track record. I'm a damn good copper, Sheelagh, but I'm not a good parent and I'm not a good friend.'

Stepping closer, Sheelagh reclined against the sink but left her hand where it was as she said, 'You're wrong about that, you know. Well, you're wrong about lots of things, but you're perfectly capable of being a good friend. Being in Spain and still caring enough to want to interfere on my behalf with Debbie McAllister? That was being a good friend, Sam. Then you pulled back when all this kicked off. I didn't understand it then but I'm starting to.'

Sam glanced sideways, aware of Sheelagh's hand on her shoulder, drawing strength from it almost. 'If you'll give me a chance, let me buy you a drink one day, I'll tell you everything. I've screwed up so many times in the past few months. I've hurt Abi and I've hurt you by trying to control the situation. I'm sorry,' she concluded with a wry smile.

Sheelagh sighed and finally let her hand fall. 'I hoped you'd be a little more defensive and equivocal then I could stay mad at you.'

The words sank in slowly and Sam felt herself relax – properly relax – for the first time since that morning in her office. 'Thank you.'

She waved that away then crossed the bathroom and tugged a paper towel free. Moistening it with water while Sam watched on, she said, 'Hold still. You're in danger of being mistaken for a panda.'

Chuckling, Sam tried to keep herself from wavering on the spot, though she wasn't sure she was doing a very good job. While she dabbed at her cheeks Sheelagh's breath tickled her chin and sent a shiver along her spine. The intimacy of the moment when, really, she should've lost Sheelagh's friendship thanks to her behaviour, felt bizarre, especially following on from the morning she'd had with Abi.

Sheelagh drew back, dropping the towel into the bin. 'There,' she said with a touch of pride.

Sam didn't even bother to check how she looked. She trusted Sheelagh completely right now and she was reminded irresistibly of the first time she'd critically examined her in this very space in a bid to put her back together so she could focus on the Joanna Sharpe investigation. It was as though they'd come full circle, only now Sam felt that the loss of Sheelagh's friendship would be unbearable.

'Thank you,' she repeated.

'Go to your briefing,' Sheelagh said softly. 'And, don't worry, I'll hold you to that drink.'

After inhaling deeply, she spared one last look for Sheelagh then swept out of the bathroom. She felt much more human, more herself than she had since Dougie Pritchard had left that message on her voicemail demanding a meeting. It was like emerging from quicksand to find that you hadn't smothered in it after all. With a new air of determination, she climbed the stairs up to CID.

Throwing herself into the briefing was one way of getting her head back in the game. It was a way of proving that none of this mess had affected her ability to do her job. However, she was startled to be pulled from leading it by Jack but the expression on Gina's face told her not to bother arguing. Then she had to endure looks from Debbie and Juliet as the briefing progressed before being summoned to Adam's office at the end. Though she attempted to defend her handling of the case, he wasn't having any of it and he ordered her to take that leave he'd been threatening her with since everything kicked off. Battling tears, she complied and returned to her own office where Jack was waiting for her. In the absence of being able to take her irritation out on the Super, she questioned the DCI's lack of support for her.

'Why do I get the feeling I'm a convenient scapegoat?' she questioned.

'Oh, come on, Samantha, that's rubbish,' Jack replied.

'I'll tell you what's rubbish,' she retorted. 'I love my job. I did the hardest thing I've ever done in my life today. I told my daughter I loved her so much I'd resign for her. I even took a letter of resignation to you. And I would've gone through with it if Abigail had let me.'

To her dismay, she felt fresh tears crowd her eyes and she covered her face. When Jack rounded the desk, she forced herself to look at him.

'You are one of the best DIs that I have ever had,' he said with utter sincerity. 'There's no way I would've accepted your resignation. Just do as the Super says, eh? You and Abigail, take a break. And I'll see you back here in a couple of weeks giving it a hundred and fifty percent.'

Watching him return to the door, she muttered, 'Better bow down gracefully then.'

'Right,' he agreed.

'Good luck with the case,' she said, though the words tried to stick in her throat.

He left and she gathered her things together. Really, since her holiday it didn't seem as though she'd settled back into her office. Maybe it was just that she felt she was sliding from one collision to another, unable to focus either on her professional duties or her personal problems entirely.

If she was getting out of here, better to do it quickly. She picked up a sheaf of files from her desk, grabbed her bag and walked into the main office, pointedly saying goodbye to Debbie and Juliet on the way. At least she'd give them some gossip, though hopefully they'd be too busy trying to find the scum who'd shot Ken Drummond to pay much attention to her abrupt departure.

This time when she dropped by the bathroom it was from genuine need. She left the files balanced on the sinks though when she washed her hands and straightened her jacket a few minutes later she dislodged them. She managed to scoop a handful into her arms then the whole lot went flying.

'Damn,' she muttered. Just as she was kneeling to collect them, the door opened.

'My sources obviously aren't as accurate as I thought,' Sheelagh said.

'I'm sorry, Sheelagh?' Sam asked as her friend kneeled down to help her.

'I heard you were given some holiday,' she explained. 'This looks suspiciously like work to me.'

As they both stood, Sam turned back to lean against the sink with them clutched to her chest. 'Yeah, well, I'm probably gonna be climbing the walls after about five minutes,' she said.

Sheelagh gazed at her steadily. 'Don't let Abigail hear you say that. She'll just be very pleased to have her mum all to herself.'

'Mmm,' she murmured with a saccharine smile. 'For a change.'

'I thought that's why the Super gave you the time off,' Sheelagh replied. 'You know, forget about this place, spend some time with your daughter.'

'Yeah... ' Sam thought about it for a moment then added, 'That was very nice of him, wasn't it?'

Turning back to the sink, she balanced the files on the edge, a little more expertly this time. Sheelagh leaned on the unit beside her, a growing smile on her face.

'Apparently not,' she commented.

Sam rotated to face her. 'I don't think Abigail's welfare was the motivating factor,' she answered. 'He thinks I'm unable to juggle my family problems with my career.'

'It's not easy to balance the two at the best of times,' Sheelagh said.

'Oh, come on, Sheelagh,' Sam pressed. 'Look around you. The majority of coppers are men. They manage to have jobs and kids, plenty of them have got more stripes than either of us. Is their ability to cope questioned when things go a little bit wrong?' she asked.

Sheelagh tilted her head to the side. 'I suppose not.'

'Their idea of a career woman is someone that has absolutely no life whatsoever outside the job,' Sam went on. 'And, no disrespect, but I don't wanna be Gina Gold.' As Sheelagh chuckled, they both leaned back against the sinks. 'I wanna have it all,' Sam said firmly. 'And I don't see why I shouldn't get it just because I'm a female.'

'Don't you think that sounds a bit selfish?' Sheelagh questioned tentatively.

'Well, do you think the Super's selfish? DCI Meadows?' Pausing, she watched her friend absorb the words. Finally, she went on, 'Try having it all, Sheelagh. Put yourself first for a change. You never know, you might enjoy it.'

Grabbing her files, she turned to the door. She suddenly knew if she didn't get out of Sun Hill in the next few minutes her resolve would crumble and she'd end up hammering on Superintendent Okaro's door demanding to be allowed back to work.

It was only when she reached the yard that she wondered what her feminist speech back there might've talked Sheelagh into – and by then it was too late to go back and sand down the prickly edges.


Jack sent her a text to let her know that Ken was recovering and that the case had been solved. While she was grateful for the update, it only served to remind her that she was shut out of Sun Hill for two weeks. She tried to distract herself by cleaning the house, though that only worked for so long. She wasn't entirely surprised when Abi elected to go back to school at the earliest opportunity. Despite the fact they had cleared the air, it was too much to ask to spend hours cooped up together. Abi was showing signs of getting back to normal, of being the mature teenager she'd been before curiosity about her father had taken over. Sam wanted to encourage that while letting her know it was okay to be upset – it was a strange tightrope to walk and she was expecting to fall off it any minute.

A few mornings later she was sat in the kitchen reading the paper with the sun streaming through the window. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she felt almost relaxed. When she was shaken from her peace by a knock at the door she contemplated pretending she was out but curiosity got the better of her. When she opened it to find Sheelagh on the doorstep she was grateful for her nosiness. It looked as though she'd just come off-shift but there was more than fatigue visible in her face. Sam realised with a jolt that it wasn't her copper's instinct telling her that – it was their friendship that allowed her that little insight.

'What are you doing here?' she asked.

Sheelagh swallowed and offered, 'Putting myself first? I'm sorry, I just didn't want to go home.'

Opening the door wider, Sam replied, 'Don't apologise. Bit early for a bottle of wine but I can offer you a coffee.'

'Thanks,' Sheelagh said with a tired smile as she stepped over the threshold.

Sam closed the door and gestured towards the kitchen. 'Come on, come through.'

Sheelagh sat at the table and waited until the kettle was boiling before she asked, 'Is Abi back at school?'

'Yeah,' she said. 'We've had a few wobbles but she's doing a lot better. Can I tempt you with a biscuit or something else?'

'Chocolate?' suggested Sheelagh hopefully.

Chuckling, Sam pulled open the drawer beside the cooker and withdrew a bar of Galaxy. She slid it across the table then finished making the coffees as Sheelagh broke into the wrapping. When she sat down with the cups warming her hands she was comfortable enough with the silence but she could see the combination of anxiety and intrigue in Sheelagh's eyes. She didn't know she could do much about the former but she could assuage the latter.

After clearing her throat, she said, 'I wrote a letter of resignation. On the day Ken was shot.'

Sheelagh's head snapped up. 'What?'

'Don't worry,' she went on, seeing the question on her lips, 'Abi ripped it up. I would've handed it in though. I actually took it to Jack but he was too busy to read it. Funny how things turn out.'

'Do you want to leave Sun Hill?' asked Sheelagh softly.

'No,' she answered. 'I love the job, yeah, but it's more than that. I can't picture myself working somewhere else, with other people. I tried, I really did. I was willing to do it anyway. And that finally convinced Abi.'

Watching her, Sheelagh pressed, 'Convinced her of what?'

Sam inhaled deeply, aware that saying this out loud was like turning your eyes up to an eclipse. 'That I love her more than I love anything else,' she said eventually. 'She didn't know that. She couldn't be sure.'

'Oh, Sam...' Sheelagh reached out and covered her hand with her own.

Feeling the tears building, Sam tried desperately to swallow them down. 'I can't blame her, you know? This whole thing's been one big mess. I haven't done much in the way of proving that I love her.'

'Then why could I see it, hmm?' returned Sheelagh, squeezing her hand. 'That same morning – when I brought Abi to the station? I told her then that she was the most important thing in your life.'

Sam couldn't help but stare at her. 'Sheelagh,' she said after a minute, 'I lied to you. I lied to her. That isn't love, is it?'

Sheelagh held her gaze. 'Talk me through it. Explain, like you said you would.'

'Why?' Sam murmured.

'Because I've just got off a long shift and I could do with being right about something for a change.'

Filing that nugget of information away, Sam stretched across the table for the open bar of chocolate. She broke a bit off then slowly ate it while Sheelagh diplomatically focused on her coffee. That was one thing she appreciated about Sheelagh, and she suspected it was a formidable weapon with suspects and victims alike. It struck her now that she hadn't seen her in action that much, and yet, along with Gina, she was one of the only coppers at Sun Hill whose professional judgement she trusted implicitly.

'I loved him,' she said finally. 'At least, I thought I did. I mean, it wasn't real. You can't love somebody you don't know, can you? Maybe that's the problem with Abi and me. Anyway,' she went on, 'he didn't want kids and when I got pregnant it was a complete accident. He told me then, he said he didn't trust himself and he told me who he was.' Burying her head in her hands, she muttered, 'I can still remember the look on his face. I thought it was a joke at first, but I knew it wasn't because there'd always been something he was holding back. Everything made sense all of a sudden.'

'It's okay.' Sheelagh's hand caught on her arm and Sam raised her head again, grateful for the sympathy she saw in her face.

'It's not though, is it?' she returned gently. 'I told him I'd had an abortion and then I took myself off. As far as I was concerned, he had no rights over Abi. He'd lied to me. I hated him for that as much as for what he'd done.'

'Did you seriously contemplate an abortion?' questioned Sheelagh.

Sam shook her head. 'I didn't know it until I got pregnant but I really wanted to be a mum. You know, I was worried she'd look like him or remind me of him in some way but it didn't work out like that. It was like looking in a mirror sometimes. When I used to pick her up from the childminder,' she continued with a small grin, 'they'd tell me if she'd had a 'headstrong' day or not.'

Sheelagh barely contained her snort. 'I see.'

'I knew then there was nothing of him in her. She's all me, I'm afraid.'

'Oh, you've got your good points,' said Sheelagh. 'But you are headstrong, I'd agree with that.'

Sipping her coffee, Sam watched as Sheelagh popped another piece of chocolate into her mouth. Then she rested back in her seat and said, 'For years it worked, just me and Abi. We were okay until she decided she needed to know who her father was. I handled it badly – terribly. I know that. The way I saw it, if I ignored it then it'd go away. I closed myself off from her, from you, from everyone. I convinced myself I had to or I'd crack and if I cracked... Sheelagh, it wasn't because I knew what this would do to me. How could I tell my daughter she's the child of a murderer, especially one who did what he did? It shouldn't be her burden.'

'No,' Sheelagh agreed, 'but you can't protect them forever. It was natural for her to want to know and natural for you to want to protect her. There's nothing wrong with that, Sam. How's she coping with it?'

'He's keeping his distance,' Sam replied, running her finger around her cup. 'He'll keep in contact but he knows he can't be a proper part of her life with the circus that'd entail. It's about the one positive thing I can say about this mess.'

'You not resigning is fairly positive,' commented Sheelagh.

Sam chuckled. 'Okay, you're right there. The thing was, Sheelagh, she got angry after Glenn told her he was going to stay away. She pushed me against the wall. It didn't hurt, there was nothing to it. But it scared her. It's always going to be at the back of her mind now. That's what I didn't want.'

'You'll work through it together. If there's nothing between you now, it'll be better. Not easy,' she added, 'but better. I do have a question though,' she added, tilting her head to the side.

'Go on,' Sam said carefully.

'That night when I picked you up from the hospital after Abi's overdose,' Sheelagh said. 'You said I'd hate you because you'd done something terrible. What was that?'

Sighing, Sam pushed her coffee away. 'I knew I had to tell Abi something. I saw what lengths she'd go to in order to get answers from me so I – I lied to her. That night I told her she was the product of a one-night stand. She knew Glenn's name, you see. She'd picked it up from old letters. I didn't know it at the time,' she continued, 'but she'd passed those letters onto Matt Boyden. Who, in case you were wondering, was an old mate of Dougie Pritchard's.'

'That explains that one,' Sheelagh said. 'I did wonder how it all came out.'

'I've got a lot to hate Matt Boyden for,' Sam replied, shaking her head. 'You're such a good person, Sheelagh, that I thought everything I'd done would just...horrify you. Having a child by a murderer, not telling him that I was pregnant, lying to Abi... It added up and I hated the look of it. At the time I couldn't risk losing your friendship. I was fragile enough without losing you to boot.'

With a smile, Sheelagh answered, 'You said 'maybe someday'. Did you mean that or was it just to keep me quiet?'

'I meant it,' she said firmly. 'I do trust you, Sheelagh. There's never been a question of that. Only how open I can be.'

'Well, you're doing okay,' said Sheelagh, reaching over and touching her arm.

Sam met her eye. 'I'll bear that in mind.'

'I was hurt, that's all,' went on Sheelagh after a moment. 'Since I got to Sun Hill we've had this weird connection, haven't we? Sometimes without you to talk to I think I'd go mad.'

'Me too,' she admitted with shrug.

Draining her coffee, Sheelagh took another piece of chocolate then slid the bar over to Sam. They quietly ate for a minute or so, the silence comfortable. Discreetly, Sam studied her friend, wondering why she didn't want to go home and what had happened in the few days she'd been away from Sun Hill. Was it something to do with Des? Really, what else could it be? Even so, though her curiosity was high, she wouldn't succumb to it. She had no right to be demanding secrets from Sheelagh under the circumstances. It was enough that, not wanting to come home, she'd come here instead.

'What you said the other day,' Sheelagh said abruptly, 'about having it all. Does that include a man?'

'It hasn't really cropped up,' Sam replied honestly. 'Whether that's because I haven't let it or not is up for debate, I suppose. It's always been casual. Abi and the job – that's all I ever really wanted.'

'But could you let someone in?' pressed Sheelagh gently.

Thinking about it for a few seconds, Sam nodded. 'The right person. But it won't happen, Sheelagh, trust me on that.'

Although she looked unconvinced, she let it slide. She stood, stretching out her muscles and wincing. 'I should go. It's been a long night. Thanks for the drink.'

'Anytime,' Sam said, rising. 'And, no, I'm not being polite. I'm going out of my mind here.'

Sheelagh laughed as she headed to the door. Sam followed her and pulled it open, watching her over the threshold with a degree of sadness.

'You'll give Abigail my love, won't you?' Sheelagh asked.

'I will,' she promised. Then, before Sheelagh could move, she hesitantly stepped forward and pulled her into an awkward hug. When she withdrew she was embarrassed and cleared her throat. 'Bye,' she said.

Sheelagh smiled again and turned to go looking, Sam had to say, much happier than when she'd arrived. As she closed the door, she wondered what had happened to her over the last few months – she missed Sheelagh's presence almost as soon as the door clicked shut.


The days melded into one. Abi floated in and out, battered in some respects but otherwise much more herself. Sam recognised the traits from her own personality – now she knew the truth Abi was stubbornly saying it wouldn't affect her life. It was a better response than Sam could've hoped for but sometimes she didn't dare believe it.

For her own part, she spent the days bored rigid and the evenings trying to persuade Abi to spend time with her. Though she complained about it, she got the feeling that Abi appreciated being asked and, really, sort of enjoyed it. As bizarre as it sounded, they were closer than they'd been before, even if it had taken some sort of earthquake to get them to this point.

In her free hours – of which they were many at the moment – she found her mind slipping back to Sheelagh. She wondered whether the troubles that had driven her to this door had disappeared with time or whether they were worse than ever. She also, of course, speculated on what on earth those troubles were. What has Des done? Or, as an unwelcome voice kept asking, what had Sheelagh done with Des? It was a creeping thought, but one that refused to let her alone.

She wasn't entirely surprised then when, a few days before she was due to return to Sun Hill, the doorbell rang and she found Sheelagh on her step again. Although she was dressed up in a nice blouse, she looked upset, Sam realised, and the observation brought out the caring instinct she usually reserved for Abi.

'Tea or coffee?' she asked, ushering her into the house.

'I don't want to intrude,' Sheelagh muttered.

Sam snorted as she urged her into the kitchen. 'Intrude? This is the most excitement I've had all week.'

Seeming to relax a little, Sheelagh replied, 'Tea then.'

'Sit down,' she said as she filled the kettle.

'Is Abi here?' questioned Sheelagh.

'She's at a friend's,' Sam replied. 'She'll be home in a while.' Going to the drawer, she pulled out a bar of chocolate and passed it to Sheelagh. 'Here, take this away from me. I've done really well leaving it alone.'

With a tired smile, Sheelagh cracked it open. By the time the tea was ready she'd demolished most of it but left one piece in front of Sam's place. After putting the cups down, she popped it into her mouth and pretended not to notice that Sheelagh was nearly in tears. By degrees, she gathered herself together while Sam lolled back in her chair and feigned ignorance.

'I'm sorry for turning up like this,' Sheelagh said finally.

Sam rolled her shoulders. 'Careful. I might just hold you hostage.'

'It's not kidnap if I agree, is it?' returned Sheelagh.

'True,' she admitted. 'Are you any good at crosswords?'

'Crosswords?' Sheelagh repeated with a dubious look.

'That's how bored I've been,' Sam said, reaching across for the folded paper and nudging it over the table. 'Six across and nine down.'

Though she glanced at them, Sam could see her heart wasn't in it. For a few minutes they sipped their tea in silence then Sheelagh murmured, 'It was my wedding anniversary yesterday.'

'How many years?' Sam questioned.

'Twenty three,' answered Sheelagh.

Noticing the unease in her face, Sam feigned joviality. 'Congratulations. Did you do anything nice?'

'Patrick surprised me at the station,' Sheelagh said, her cheeks whitening further. 'He'd hired a limo, had the kids waiting at a restaurant and everything. It was lovely of him.'

Sam noticed the addition of the last two words but said nothing. She was a copper, after all, and her job was detection. She had the sinking feeling that Sheelagh's attitude came from some sort of dalliance with Des, guilt naturally exacerbated by Patrick's romantic gesture on their anniversary. How far the thing with Des had gone was still up for debate though. It might just be the prospect of it that was sending Sheelagh into a tailspin.

'I hope it was a good meal after all that effort,' Sam remarked eventually.

Sheelagh lifted her head, perhaps recognising the diversion for what it was. She gave a sort of half-smile then took another gulp of tea. 'Are you looking forward to getting back to work?'

'Only a lot,' she replied. 'I think I've cleaned more in the last week than the last year. I can't say I'm any better at it. Cleaning and cooking – not two of my strong points. If I ever offer to cook you a meal, run in the opposite direction. I won't be offended.'

'I'll remember that,' Sheelagh said.

Sam was at a loss for what to say next so elected to say nothing. With anyone else the silence would drag but not Sheelagh. They sat there for so long that the front door opened and startled them both. Though Sheelagh stiffened she seemed to be grateful for the interruption.

'Mum?' Abi called. 'Are you here?'

'Kitchen,' she shouted back.

Abi swept into the room still in her uniform, though her tie was missing and her hair was loose around her shoulders. She stopped short as she caught sight of Sheelagh. 'Sorry, am I interrupting?'

Chuckling, Sheelagh replied, 'You're the one who lives here, not me. How are you?'

'Good, thanks. Listen, I'll leave you –'

'There's no need for that,' interrupted Sheelagh. 'Why don't you join us?'

When her daughter glanced hesitantly to her, Sam gestured to one of the free chairs. 'If you want to. I know you're sick of talking to me and Sheelagh's a better listener.'

To her amusement, the two of them exchanged a nod before Abi sat down and asked, 'Did she call you desperate for station gossip?'

'No, no,' Sheelagh said, 'she's been very good.'

'Oi,' Sam murmured with a grin, 'I am still here, you know.'

'You're not exactly easy to miss, Mum,' Abi pointed out.

'Okay, if you're ganging up on me, I need to get some washing from upstairs.'

It was a pretext and both of them knew it but they let her go without another word. Of course, she was half-tempted to stay and eavedrop but this wasn't a case and she owed Abi and Sheelagh trust and privacy. So she climbed the stairs and spent ten minutes pottering around her bedroom and allowing her mind to wander with speculation about Sheelagh and Des. It wasn't nosiness when you genuinely cared – or at least that's what she was telling herself.

Something had happened to bring Sheelagh to her door today. You didn't work a long shift then arrive on someone's doorstep for no discernible reason. She didn't flatter herself that her company was riveting enough for Sheelagh to seek it out, though perhaps that had happened in the past. Then again, that was always at the nick. Having Sheelagh in her home felt different somehow. It told her that the rift between them was beginning to heal, though the prospect of this different stage of friendship frightened her a bit.

Sitting down on the bed, she smoothed out the covers. If Sheelagh had allowed things to go too far with Des then it was a dangerous game. Sam could hardly criticise dubious romantic choices, though at least Des was a police officer and not a murderer. There was a definite spark between the pair of them, she'd seen that with her own eyes. Perhaps something like that overtook you whether you liked it or not.

After all, when she'd visited Glenn at the hospital she'd experienced...something herself. At the time she wasn't sure what it was, whether it might've been the remnants of the love she once felt for him. Now, though, she'd talked herself away from that. It hadn't been a spark of love or affection, more like a twinge of bemusement that they'd got to this point. She didn't love Glenn anymore. It was as she'd said to Sheelagh the other day – how could you love someone you didn't know?

'Mum?' Abi's voice startled her. 'Are you okay?'

It took her a few seconds to focus on her daughter then she stood up and tried to clear her face. 'Course,' she said. 'What's up?'

After studying her shrewdly, Abi answered, 'Sheelagh's got to get going.'

Sam nodded and followed her down the stairs. Sheelagh was waiting by the door, looking tired but again more relaxed and happier than she had when she'd arrived. Abi stepped forward and gave Sheelagh a big hug before stepping back to the stairs and, to Sam's surprise, linking their arms together. Seeing that, Sheelagh's lips twitched but she didn't draw attention to it.

'I'll see you in a few days,' Sam said.

'Yeah,' Sheelagh replied. 'Have you heard anything from the station?'

'Not much,' she said. 'Gina sent me a text the other day but that's all.'

Something flickered across Sheelagh's face, too rapidly to be positively identified. 'It'll be good to have you back.'

Sam smiled, though her mind was running over the possible reasons behind a reaction like that to Gina's name. It was a mystery that would have to wait until she was back at Sun Hill, she realised, as Sheelagh reached for the door handle and murmured a goodbye before slipping out of the house.

Shaking herself, Sam turned to Abi. 'Do I even want to ask what you two were talking about?'

'Probably not,' Abi answered. 'I've got some homework, okay?'

'Okay,' Sam echoed.

She watched her up the stairs with a small grin then returned to the kitchen. The mugs on the side were the only sign that Sheelagh had been there. Sighing, Sam sat down then her eyes caught on the crossword still in the middle of the table – Sheelagh had solved both clues in her absence and drawn a smiley face at the bottom of the page. It was enough to make her chuckle again.


The prospect of returning to work rejuvenated her over the next few days. There was a renewed bounce in her step, though the night before she was due to go back she was hit by a few nerves. Sitting in front of the television with a cup of cooling tea in her hands, she was jolted from her thoughts by Abi sitting abruptly beside her on the sofa.

'You're worried about going back,' she said.

Sam glanced to her and smiled. 'Yeah,' she admitted, 'a little.'

'People stop talking after a few days,' Abi replied. 'We're not that interesting.

'Kids are different, sweetheart,' she said. 'People at the nick have got long memories. They'll just be waiting for a chance to throw it back in my face. I'm sorry,' she went on quickly, 'I know this has been worse for you than me. I know this is all my fault.'

Abi put a hand on her arm. 'It's okay.'

'It's not,' she returned, 'but thanks for saying it.'

'At least you've got someone on your side at work,' Abi commented after a minute of silence.

This time Sam's smile was genuine. 'Yeah,' she murmured. 'I'm lucky.'

Although she clearly had better things to do, Abi sat with her for an hour, watching some junk on the television and persuading her that two helpings of strawberry ice cream wasn't a bad idea. For a while Sam forgot her anxiety and enjoyed the mother/daughter time, only pausing to marvel once every so often that they'd got back to this point. It was almost like the time they'd spent together before Abi's curiosity about her father had kicked in, except this time there were no secrets hovering between them.

The next morning, her instinct was to put on her game face and front it out. She dropped Abi at school on her way in then strode up to CID without sparing a glance for Robbie Cryer on the front desk or the uniformed officers crowding reception. If there was one thing Sam prided herself on it was her ability to at least look as though nothing was touching her. Not many people could see through that. Gina could to an extent and so could Eva, but there was only one person who saw through it consistently and without malice. More than once in the past few months Sheelagh had helped her put the mask back on – it stood to reason she knew what went into it.

Walking into CID, she immediately detected the stir in the room. Nevertheless, she ignored it, nodding at colleagues she passed on her way into her office. She felt much more secure when she'd deposited her bag beside her desk and pressed the button to boot up her computer. This was her office and she was determined to feel – or at least act – comfortable in it. As she was removing her coat there was a knock on the open door.

'Morning, Guv,' Eva said.

Turning around, she smiled. 'Hiya.'

'Glad to be back?' questioned Eva.

Sam discreetly gestured out to the open-plan office. 'It depends.'

Conceding that with a shrug, Eva said, 'Well, you just focus on the job and you'll be fine, Guv. How's Abigail?'

'Better,' she answered. 'Listen, Eva,' she went on a little more seriously, 'I don't know if I thanked you properly. You were there for me, even when I was throwing it back in your face.'

'You've done the same thing for me,' Eva replied.

Before she could respond to that, Gina appeared, edging into the office. Eva took the hint, not saying another word and instead slipping back to her desk with a smile. Gina pushed the door closed then leaned against it.

'Welcome back to the madhouse,' she said. 'Everything back to normal?'

'As normal as it's going to get,' Sam returned, sinking into her familiar chair. 'Sit down.'

'Sorry I didn't call while you were off,' Gina said as she did. 'You know how it is around here at the best of times.'

'Course,' she answered. Then, carefully, she went on, 'Anyway, I had a couple of visits from Sheelagh to keep me occupied.'

'Oh, yes?' Gina's trademark poker face was on, feigning disinterest, but Sam could see the same reaction to the name as she'd spotted with Sheelagh the week before.

'Seemed a little off-colour,' Sam persisted. 'Upset even.'

'When was this?' questioned Gina.

'A few days after I took leave then the end of last week.' She watched Gina intently, playing the same roundabout game her colleague was and enjoying flexing her interrogation muscles a little. 'Have I missed something?' she asked.

'What did she say?' Gina shot back.

'Nothing,' Sam conceded. 'But I am a detective, you know.'

'And as you also know,' said Gina, 'I can't go discussing my relief with no justifiable cause.'

'Course not,' Sam returned, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the desk. 'I wouldn't expect you to. But, for the sake of argument, let's just suppose I know which way the wind's been blowing.'

'And do you?' Gina questioned, her tone indecipherable even to Sam's seasoned ears. For a moment it made her doubt what she knew about Sheelagh and Des but, she reasoned, she'd seen enough to draw fairly solid conclusions. This could just be the inspector's way of checking whether she actually knew what was going on or whether she was bluffing.

'Could be,' Sam said after a moment, 'that Sheelagh's still shaken up by all that business with Patrick's cab. Being taken hostage by someone like that takes its toll on you.'

'As you well know,' Gina retorted, though she relaxed into her seat as she realised they were on the same track after all.

'How far has it gone?' Sam asked finally.

'Your guess is as good as mine.'

'You've spoken to her,' she said.

Gina inclined her head. 'At the end of last week.'

For a few seconds the fact that Sheelagh had sought her out following such a conversation with Gina struck Sam dumb, especially considering their difficulties lately. Then a smile drifted onto her face.

'What's that look for?' Gina queried.

Sam cleared her throat. 'Did you just come in here to gossip?'

Mock-affronted, Gina rose. 'The Super wants you on a GBH inquiry. But you'd better tread carefully,' she added. 'It's a fella from the CPS he's had dealings with in the past. It could get messy.'

'What did I do to deserve that one?' Sam questioned. 'Or don't I need to ask?'

'You'll be right,' said Gina. 'Jump through the hoops, prove nothing's changed.' She paused. 'Nothing has changed, I take it?'

At a bit of a loss, Sam stared at her. 'Like what?'

'Nothing, nothing.' Gina managed a wan smile then reached for the door handle. 'Good luck.'

Left alone, Sam only allowed herself a minute to wonder what Gina's cryptic demeanour meant then she grabbed Eva and set out to investigate the GBH. It was good to be back, whatever anyone else might be saying about her.