There was a moment when Sheelagh awoke where she was completely disorientated. The ceiling was unfamiliar, the furniture stuck out in peculiar ways and the window was in the wrong bedroom she shared with Patrick was decorously beige; this one was purple and red, from what she could see from the combination of the dim light trickling through the doorway and the curtains. Then it came back to her in a flash – this was Abigail Nixon's room. She was in Sam's house because... She exhaled and lowered her head back onto the pillow.

Des was missing, presumed dead, after losing control of the area car and crashing it into a warehouse. While that had been going on, she'd been with Patrick telling him she'd been having an affair and the baby wasn't his. The timing was ridiculous, she realised, but real nonetheless. That wasn't even the whole of it, was it? She couldn't be sure what had prompted Des to lose control of the car yesterday but she knew what had precipitated it – he'd admitted to her that he'd thrown the firebomb into the station that had killed six of his colleagues. He was a murderer – an accidental killer, perhaps, but still a killer.

It had been an awful few days. The Jameson cot death had started it all. That case had affected her far more than she thought it would, far more than she'd been able to handle. One of her most vivid memories of this horrible week was Sam tracking her down in the hospital toilets. She'd gone to tidy herself up at the furthest point she could think of. She'd been scared of being pushed to open up and the fact that Sam found her had been a divine sign that... Well, telling her the truth about the pregnancy and who the father was had been like a huge weight lifting. It opened the floodgates of her tears and Sam didn't turn away from her, she stood there in the draughty hospital and held her while she cried. She couldn't fathom at the time why she'd been so reluctant to confide in her before. Yes, it had taken the usually-unflappable DI a few minutes to adjust to the news but then she was there, right there holding her together. Even her understandable irritation about June knowing before she did, even her unease about keeping the pregnancy quiet from Gina for a little longer, that was all superseded by her concern. Once again, Samantha had surprised her. Not with how much she cared but with the way she dealt with it. She knew from experience that when DI Nixon cared about something she shut down – it was her way of dealing with emotions that she found difficult. But her support hadn't faltered in the last few days, even when Sheelagh could see conflict raging in her eyes. Leaving her on the Jameson case had been hard and, really, she shouldn't have done it. But she had.

She knew that Sam hadn't agreed with her decision to make a go of things with Des. It was the fear of being a single parent and the knowledge that she couldn't lie to Patrick for the rest of her life that propelled her. Des also deserved a chance to know his child, the chance that poor Mr Jameson had been denied. All that had contributed to her decision to ignore her doubts and jump. When she'd told Sam what she was planning she'd seen the anxiety in her eyes but she hadn't argued or even demanded reasons. Sheelagh couldn't thank her enough for that.

Which was why, really, she hadn't been able to burden her anymore with the knowledge of what Des had done. She couldn't ask Sam to keep Des's secret, not as a police officer nor the woman she was. It was bad enough that Sheelagh saw what he'd described every time she closed her eyes. She'd made the decision to press ahead and tell Patrick about the affair because she hadn't seen another option. She had to gamble on Des because she couldn't prolong the lie with Patrick. What a reckless gamble that had turned out to be. If Des was dead then she'd lost all her chances in the blink of an eye.

There was a knock on the open door. 'Sheelagh? Are you awake?'

Slowly, she sat up, seeing Sam framed in the light from the landing. 'Yeah.'

Sam flicked the light on and hesitantly came into the room, perching on the bottom of the bed. She was still in her pyjamas but holding a cup that she passed over. 'Here.'

'Thanks,' Sheelagh murmured, taking the cup and feeling the warmth on her palms. 'What time is it?'

'Just after seven,' Sam answered. 'How did you sleep?'

'Well, I think. I don't know,' she admitted. 'I feel like I'm trapped in a nightmare.'

Sam pressed her hands together. 'I wish I could tell you that's what it was. What do you wanna do today? Do you want me to talk to Gina and get you signed off or –'

'I've got to go in today,' Sheelagh interrupted.

Sighing, Sam said, 'I know it's what I'd do but that doesn't mean it's the right course of action.'

Sheelagh chuckled and sipped her tea, enjoying the brief burning sensation over her lips. 'That as may be, I've still got to be there. I need to know what's going on and, anyway, it's better I'm busy. Well,' she added, resting a hand on her stomach, 'as busy as anybody's going to let me be like this.'

'Okay,' Sam replied, though she didn't look happy about it. 'Do you want a shower? There's a clean towel on the rail.'

She nodded. 'Thanks.'

'Do you feel okay – physically?' Sam questioned after a moment. 'Don't lie to me if you're not. I need to know.'

'I wouldn't,' she said softly. 'I don't feel like I did before. It was like... I don't know how to describe it. Drowning,' she went on, meeting Sam's eye. 'It was like drowning.'

'When do you mean – before?' Sam asked. 'Before when? Do you mean when you were admitted to hospital or –'

'No,' Sheelagh interrupted, suddenly realising what she did mean. 'Before I told you about the baby,' she said. 'And before you found me yesterday.'

Something flickered across Sam's face, embarrassment maybe. She cleared her throat and stood. 'I'll be downstairs if you need me.'

When she reached the door Sheelagh murmured, 'Sam?'

She turned back quickly. 'Yeah?'

'You know there's something I'm not telling you, don't you?' She waited for her hesitant nod before continuing, 'If it would make a difference now, I'd tell you. I would.'

Sam toyed with the hem of her pyjama top. 'Would it help you to tell me? Cos that's the most important thing.'

'No, it isn't,' she said with a small smile. 'I want to see you as permanent DI, you know. It might be the one good thing that happens this year.'

There was a pause while Sam absorbed that. She obviously knew partly what Sheelagh was saying, though she likely suspected it was just the perjury that Sally Johnson had been talking about, that Des had admitted to it. That was bad enough and Sam knew as well as she did that she was duty bound to pass something like that on to the DCI or the Super. It was why Sheelagh had held back the other day, even when Sam had promised to keep their conversation private. She couldn't ask her to put her own job in jeopardy by asking her to lie for Des. Now, with Des most likely dead, his guilt could die with him. No one needed to know what he'd done, not his colleagues or that little boy he was playing with in the yard just two days ago. If they could remember him as a good copper instead of a man who started a fire that killed six people then that was something. With him dead, though, Sam's professional compulsion to reveal the truth wouldn't have any consequences and she'd probably feel it was the right thing to do. That meant, Sheelagh reasoned, that telling Sam now could do no possible good beyond easing her own burden slightly. It wasn't worth it.

'I'll see what I've got for breakfast,' Sam said abruptly. 'You're not leaving this house until you've eaten something. Even if I have to go out and buy it first.'

Sheelagh chuckled as she watched her go then settled back against the headboard with her cup of tea. She welcomed the sounds of Sam banging around her own kitchen as a return to normality, as bizarre as that seemed considering the fact that this wasn't her home and that the complexity dial on her life had just been ratcheted up a notch. But, somehow, she felt comfortable here and part of her wished she could stay hiding in Abi's bedroom forever. It wasn't to be though. Part of being a grown-up was facing your problems and, for a start, that meant slipping out of this warm bed and getting a shower.

Returning to Abi's room fifteen minutes later she sat on the bed and fumbled in the bag Patrick had packed for her. His attentiveness, even under the circumstances, made her chest ache: a clean change of clothes along with her wash-bag and, of course, her favourite pyjamas. The mess she'd made of things still managed to surprise her but she forced herself to get dressed and went downstairs to locate Sam in the kitchen.

She was brooding over a coffee but stood on seeing her and gestured to an array of items on the table. 'Right,' she said, 'I don't eat breakfast but apparently Abi does. So I can offer you toast, with or without jam or honey. Actually,' she continued, lifting it up and checking the sell-by date, 'I don't want to poison you. Scrap the honey. There's cereal – Rice Krispies because Abi's all grown-up now obviously – and eggs. Or,' she said, picking up a little box with a smile, 'Pop Tarts.'

Sheelagh's lips twitched. 'Are those Abi's or yours?' she asked.

'I told you,' Sam replied, 'I don't eat breakfast. Pop Tarts it is. Sit down.'

Watching her go through the motions of making breakfast, Sheelagh felt secure, a feeling only tempered by the fact that she was going to have to step outside this little cocoon quite shortly. When Sam slid a plate in front of her Sheelagh looked up, offered her an unspoken thanks, and set to work on the sugary snack with more relish than she thought she possessed at the moment.

After a moment, Sam cleared her throat. 'I'm off to shower and get ready,' she said, squeezing her shoulder as she passed.

By the time she returned Sheelagh had washed up and gathered herself together enough to at least fake composure when she got to the station. For now, though, she could afford to show her anxiety to Sam, even if they didn't say anything about it.

The journey to work was practically silent. Sheelagh took the opportunity to focus her mind. It was likely that she'd hear confirmation today that Des was dead. She was going to have to take that in her stride, treat it like any death of a colleague. Apart from Sam, Reg, June and, apparently, Gina, no one needed to know that he was the father of her baby as far as she was concerned. She couldn't hide the break-up of her marriage but she could try and airbrush Des out of history. So, after hearing confirmation of his death in that fire, she had to go home and talk to her children, explain what she'd done and that Patrick was moving out.

'Sheelagh?' Sam said quietly. 'You've gone a funny colour.'

Blinking, she glanced sideways. They were in the station car park now and Sam was resting back in her seat, her forehead furrowed. 'I'm just thinking,' she said.

'One step at a time, okay?' Sam replied. 'Don't think about the bigger picture. And you know where I am if you need anything.'

'You need to do some work,' Sheelagh returned, unbuckling her seatbelt. 'Come on, let's get this over with.'

To an untrained observer, they probably looked like two colleagues happening to walk into the station together. Sam's work persona was on display, her shoulders were high and that sense of entitlement that Sheelagh had heard grumbles about over her the months was practically seeping from her. However, it was all an act, one worthy of an Oscar maybe, but an act nonetheless. Sam enjoyed her role, of course she did. She revelled in the knowledge that she was in charge up in CID and she enjoyed having power over the likes of Phil Hunter but that wasn't all there was to her. The real Samantha Nixon was the one who'd slipped out of Sun Hill yesterday without a second thought and come to her rescue.

'You know where I am,' Sam repeated in a low voice as they passed through the doors. 'And I'll give you a lift home later, no arguments.'

'Thank you,' she murmured in return.

Punching in the door code, Sam gave her one last, meaningful look then climbed the stairs up to CID. Sheelagh immediately felt wobbly but dug her elbows into her sides and walked into the heart of the station. She focused on putting one foot in front of the other and getting to the locker room without any incidents. There were a couple of constables in there and the topic of conversation was, naturally, the area car crash. She tried to close her ears and changed as quickly as possible. Then she escaped to her office, pushing the door shut and collapsing gratefully at her desk. Whatever role she was going to be assigned today was going to take a monumental effort to complete and she needed the respite of a few moments alone.

The door opened and June bustled in. 'Oh, there you are,' she said. 'I've been so worried. How are you holding up?'

'Okay, I think,' Sheelagh answered with an attempt at a smile. It wouldn't have fooled Sam for a second but maybe June was a different matter.

Sitting down at her own desk, June said, 'Listen, I might've overstepped the mark yesterday. The DI turned up at court and –'

'It's fine,' June,' she cut in. 'You did the right thing.'

'Are you sure?' June persisted. 'I know that –'

She was interrupted by the door opening and Gina's head popped through the door: 'Sheelagh – the Super wants to see you, soon as.'

Every muscle in her body tensed. The look on Gina's face was unfathomable but all three of them knew it had to be about Des. After all, the Super knew about her affair with Des, or at least he knew something had occurred. Given his friendship with Gina, he might even know everything that she suspected herself.

Feeling leaden, she dragged herself up from her desk and walked upstairs. She felt like carrying on past the Super's office, going straight into CID and hiding in Sam's office. That wouldn't help though; it'd just prolong the suspense. Perhaps it was better to know the worst. She forced herself to knock and heard the Super call for her to come in. The fact that he hurried over to the door to greet her was hardly a good sign.

'Sergeant Murphy,' he said, 'have a seat.'

'Thank you, Sir.' She complied then hesitated, dreading the question. 'Is this about the area car crash?'

'Yes,' he replied, 'but I thought I could rely on you to spread the word that Reg is expected to make a full recovery.'

'And Des?' she asked.

'Forensics are still combing the scene but, as yet, they haven't found a body.' Her pain must've shown in her face because he sat down on the edge of his desk, a sombre expression on his face. 'There's no easy way to say this,' he continued, 'but it looks like Des was caught in the heart of the fire. Which explains why forensics haven't found anything yet. I thought you should know what was happening.'

Against all odds, she managed to keep her voice level as she answered, 'Thanks, Sir.'

As she stood, he said, 'I know you and PC Taviner were...close. If there's anything I can –'

'Thanks, Sir,' she repeated. 'I've got all the support I need.'

Stepping out into the corridor, her first instinct was to turn left and follow through on her earlier plan to go to Sam. Then she remembered that Sam had put her professional responsibilities second to her far too often lately. It wasn't fair to keep asking her to do that. Besides, if she let the cracks show now then she probably wouldn't get through the rest of the day, never mind the conversation she had to have with the kids later.

So she returned to her office, after poking her head around Gina's door and asking for instructions for the day.

'Paperwork,' she said shortly, crossing her arms. 'And if you want to be really useful you can start on mine.'

'Yes, Ma'am,' Sheelagh replied, 'I'll let you know if I get that desperate.'

She appreciated the curt nod; she appreciated every smidgen of normality she encountered at the moment. Going into her office, she drew the blinds and tried to blot out the rest of the world. The only occasional interruptions came from June but when she tried to draw her into conversation she dexterously avoided it. June accepted that out of compassion and Sheelagh was grateful to be left alone, bathroom excursions excepted.

The mountain of paperwork on her desk was rapidly diminishing long after midday when there was a knock on the door and it tentatively opened. Her shoulders stiffened until a familiar blonde head appeared in the gap.

'Can I come in?' Sam asked.

Sheelagh exhaled and nodded. 'Of course.'

Sliding around the door frame, Sam closed the door then plopped a can of Tango and a sandwich on the desk. 'I'm guessing you haven't eaten.'

'I haven't,' she admitted. 'Have there been any developments?'

'Not at the warehouse, no,' Sam answered, sitting down opposite her. 'Have you heard about Gary's dad?'

'June mentioned it,' she said. 'She said they'd found a bloodied jacket but he was still missing. Have they found him yet?'

Sam shook her head. 'Now Smithy's gone and offered himself as a hostage to the gunman.'

'What?' Sheelagh stared at her. 'What was he thinking?'

'Heroics, maybe,' Sam said with a shrug. 'I don't know. But I do know Gina's doing her nut down there.'

'I bet,' Sheelagh murmured as she reached for the Tango and cracked it open, studying Sam out of the corner of her eye.

Inside the station, in work mode, she seemed much more at ease than, perversely, she'd seemed in her own home. It was strange, now Sheelagh thought about it. Sam had been open and caring but she didn't seem comfortable. That was a conundrum that she'd have to fathom out at some point. For now, though, she was grateful for Sam's strength – it made hers easier to find.

'I brought you that to eat, not look at,' Sam said, gesturing to the sandwich.

On cue, her stomach started rumbling and she swapped the drink for the sandwich. 'What have you been doing this morning?' she asked.

'Liaising with the CPS,' Sam said, rolling her eyes.

'Swap you for all this paperwork,' Sheelagh offered. 'I'm going mad.'

'At least the files don't answer back,' Sam retorted.

'It depends how long I stare at them for,' quipped Sheelagh.

Grinning, Sam pointed to the sandwich. 'Eat. Now.'

For a few minutes Sheelagh chewed while Sam flicked through one of the files on the desk and pretended not to be making sure she didn't surreptitiously drop the whole thing in the bin. She couldn't do that. Now she'd been offered food she realised quite how hungry she was. Burying herself in work was all well and good but she had to look after the baby as much as herself now. It was going to be a rough few months and they'd both need all the help they could get. When she crumpled the wrapper into the bin, Sam dropped the file back onto the desk and pulled out a bar of Galaxy from her pocket.

'See what you get when you behave?' she queried, sliding it over then standing and stretching out. 'I should get back upstairs. Come find me when your shift finishes, okay?'

'I will,' she promised.

As soon as the door closed she felt lonely then she turned the chocolate bar over in her hands and smiled. The first time she'd done something bizarre and left one of these on Sam's desk after the Joanna Sharp investigation had been one of her better impulsive decisions since she'd arrived at Sun Hill. Right now she couldn't think where she'd be if she hadn't done it.

The rest of the day wore on slowly. She heard from Gina that Smithy's hostage situation had been resolved successfully and that Sam was chomping at the bit to interview the fella before MIT got hold of him. Gary's dad was still missing, though it was being treated as a murder inquiry thanks to the amount of blood found on Alan Best's jacket. Then June dropped by, a sombre look on her face, and informed her that Des's radio had been recovered from the crash site and that they thought it might be all that they found. The horror of that statement rippled through her now much as it had earlier when Mr Okaro had said the same thing but she tried not to show that to June. Perhaps sensing that she didn't want to open up, June left her to it, responding to a domestic shout instead of pressuring her. Sheelagh knew instinctively that she wouldn't be able to talk to anyone about this but Sam, though she had a few hours of her shift to get through first.

The pandemonium that suddenly broke out in the corridor beyond her blinds was something she'd only experienced once since she arrived at Sun Hill, and that was when Matt Boyden had been shot. Instantly, she was alert, wondering if it was something to do with Des, but then the door burst open and Gina stuck her head inside, ashen-faced.

'We might need your expertise,' she said. 'DC Becker's been taken hostage in the yard, the fella's got a knife. It's not clear if he's used it but if he has –'

Sheelagh stood. 'I'm coming.'

'You stay inside the station, you hear?' Gina said before she withdrew. 'Those aren't my orders either.'

The activity died down before she made it to the door as everyone gravitated towards the yard. The only person left in this part of the nick was Sam, hovering in the doorway to Gina's office.

'Your orders then,' Sheelagh said, turning towards custody.

'Someone's got to keep an eye on you,' Sam answered then she glanced over her shoulder. 'I'll be back in a minute. Do not go out into the yard until you get the go-ahead,' she added.

Though she didn't quite know where Sam was going, Sheelagh nevertheless carried on towards custody, feeling the silence of the station acutely. Then Sam caught up with her by the custody desk, carrying her standard issue jacket which she'd returned to the Sergeants' Office to retrieve.

'Here,' she said, holding it out. 'It's chilly out there.'

Sheelagh couldn't help but smile, despite the potentially dire situation unfolding outside. The material slotted snugly around her, it probably wouldn't zip up anymore thanks to the baby but that wasn't the point. It was just another instance of Sam looking after her, even while there was a man out there threatening one of her own team with a knife.

They hovered around in custody for what felt like an age. It can't have been that long before the door banged open and a struggling man was brought in. He lunged sideways, trying to get away from the officers restraining him but it brought him too close to Sheelagh. Sam jumped in between them, arms outstretched, yelling a warning that Sheelagh couldn't hear in full but got the gist of.

'Juliet's been stabbed,' Smithy said, his voice shaking as he ran in. 'Inspector Gold wants you outside, Sheelagh.'

She squeezed Sam's arm as she passed then stepped out into one of those scenes that serving police officers dreaded – there was one of their own lying on the cold stone, a knife sticking into her abdomen.

Steeling herself, Sheelagh pulled on her gloves as she walked down the ramp, skimming her eyes over the little group surrounding Juliet consisting of Superintendent Okaro and Inspector Gold along with Cathy and Tony. All her nursing training had kicked back in. It was something you never lost, she knew that, but responding to a situation like this outside of a hospital environment was unsettling. The sooner the ambulance arrived, the better. She just had to keep Juliet breathing until it did.

Kneeling down, she looked solely on her patient, trying to drill her calmness into Juliet's panicked eyes. 'Okay, let's have a look at you,' she said. 'Can I have something to put under her head please? Cathy, we need the first aid box from the FME's office.'

'Get it out,' Juliet pleaded as Cathy rushed off.

'No, no, don't touch the knife,' Sheelagh said, seeing her hands groping for it.

'I want it out,' Juliet said.

'I know,' she replied, 'but, trust me, we need to leave it where it is.'

'Take it out,' repeated Juliet, almost in a whisper.

Sheelagh focused on trying to get her comfortable, aware of how unlikely that was given the circumstances. Along with the coat to go under her head, someone passed her another one to raise her legs up. In the meantime Juliet was trying desperately to explain what had happened and Cathy was returning with the first aid box.

'Okay,' Sheelagh said to Juliet. 'I want you to raise your legs, slowly, just a fraction. There.' Opening the first aid box, she rifled inside. 'Okay, you're okay. Now, I'm just going to pack the wound, Juliet, just to keep the pressure on, okay? You see? There you go. Gina, can you keep the pressure on for me?'

With a steady hand, Gina took over stemming the blood flow. Her composure was in stark contrast to the mumblings coming from Cathy. Finally, the Super lost patience and snapped at her to calm down then gestured Sheelagh to her feet, suggesting they run Juliet to the hospital in one of the cars.

'It's best we don't move her,' Sheelagh answered.

'Okay,' he said, 'but if the ambulance isn't here soon...'

She could understand his desire to do something; she knew it was reflected in her own eyes. Kneeling back down, she soothed Juliet as best she could. A few minutes later, when she complained of thirst, she allowed Tony to give her just a few sips of water. She was lucky to have Tony and Gina out here – clear heads.

Tapping her arm, Mr Okaro pulled her aside. 'The ambulance has been nearly ten minutes now. Sheelagh?'

'There's a major RTA at the High Street,' Tony supplied as he joined them. 'It's completely blocked.'

'It's best we don't move her,' she repeated.

'Okay.' Setting his jaw, he returned to Juliet and dropped down beside her, injecting joviality into his tone. 'I'm sorry about this,' he said. 'One way or another we'll have you fixed up soon, okay?'

'Thanks, Sir,' Juliet murmured.

He held her gaze then moved and Sheelagh took his place beside her. Gina still had her hand pressed the wound and Cathy was still there, doing nothing.

'I'm having a party this weekend,' Juliet said suddenly. 'Doesn't look like I'm going to make it, does it?'

'There'll be plenty of others,' Sheelagh assured her.

'At least I won't have to dress up,' Juliet added.

'You're all right, darling,' Sheelagh said firmly. All she could do at the moment was keep her believing that until the ambulance arrived. Moving around to the other side, she lifted Juliet's arm to keep an eye on her pulse.

'How's Gary?' Juliet questioned.

'Gary?' Sheelagh repeated.

'Have they found his dad yet?' she pressed.

Sheelagh exchanged a look with Gina, seeing the same anxiety etched on her face, before she answered, 'Not yet.'

'Poor Gary,' murmured Juliet.

Gazing at her sympathetically, Sheelagh replied, 'Yeah.'

Abruptly, Cathy, who'd been thankfully silent for a while, burst out, 'We had no reason to think he had a knife, did we? I mean, when you searched him you didn't find anything, yeah?'

Incredulously, Sheelagh lowered Juliet's arm back to the ground while Gina told Cathy, 'Do yourself a favour and go away.'

Just as she followed the order, sirens echoed in the distance. Rarely had Sheelagh been so relieved to hear an ambulance approaching. It was one thing being responsible for keeping a member of the public alive, quite another to keep a colleague breathing until help arrived. She was looking forward to relinquishing control of this situation but, for now, she moved around to relieve Gina putting pressure on the wound so the inspector could make sure the path was clear for the ambulance.

'Sheelagh? Juliet said suddenly. 'Would you ring my mum for me?'

Her head had lifted from the coat and she was gazing earnestly at her, showing more fear now they were alone than she had in front of Gina or the Super. Slipping an arm under her head, Sheelagh cradled her like she would a child. 'Sure,' she said, 'of course we'll get her.'

Juliet met her eye and blinked back tears. Then the paramedics arrived and Sheelagh allowed them to take over, standing back against the wall and looking at her shaking hands. It only took a few minutes for them to ease her onto the stretcher and wheel her towards the ambulance. Sheelagh followed them across then hesitated as she heard something beyond the cars. She couldn't put her finger on what it was but it unsettled her.

Then Juliet yelled, her voice trembling, 'Sheelagh!'

'I'm here,' she said instantly, 'I'm here.'

'Will you come with me?'

'I'm coming with you,' she answered, climbing into the ambulance alongside her.

'I'll meet you there, Sheelagh,' Gina shouted as the paramedic pulled the door shut.

'Okay,' Sheelagh called then she focused her attention on Juliet again. 'You're okay,' she said firmly.

The ambulance felt like a bubble for them both. Now it was just them and a paramedic Juliet let herself go a little, showing how scared she was. Sheelagh kept her occupied by asking her questions, talking about this party she was meant to be having and getting a few laughs out of her. Knowing they were heading to a well-equipped hospital did the world of good for them both. Sheelagh held Juliet's hand and reassured her over and over that things were going to be all right, trying to convince herself as much as anything.

When they arrived at the hospital Juliet kept calling her name until the paramedics forced them apart in A&E. Sheelagh retreated to the other side of the glass to watch the doctors work. She'd been here so many times with members of the public but she'd rarely felt so helpless. From the looks on the doctors' faces she was left under no illusions how dire they thought this situation was.

A few minutes later Gina rushed in. 'I've rung her mum in Germany.'

Glancing to her, Sheelagh asked, 'Is she coming over?'

'Yeah, she's flying out tomorrow,' Gina answered.

Sheelagh hesitated for a moment, her eyes fixed on Juliet's struggling body while another horror circulated her mind. Finally, she questioned, 'Did you hear about Des's radio?'

'Yep,' Gina said shortly.

Turning to her, Sheelagh murmured, 'They think it's all they might find. It's a terrible way to –'

Gina pointed a warning finger at her. 'Oi.'

'He was a good officer,' Sheelagh said, crossing her arms tightly over her bump.

'Well, let's hope we don't lose another one, eh?' Gina muttered.

Alarms started beeping, drawing Sheelagh's attention back to Juliet beyond the glass. The doctors called for the crash cart and, for whatever reason, June Ackland and Jim Carver followed it in, joining her and Gina at the glass. Sheelagh could feel every muscle in her body tense further with every second that passed then suddenly three minutes had gone by without a pulse and the doctors looked at each other with that familiar look of resignation. As they noted the time of death, Sheelagh couldn't feel anything. She was numb. Then she was struck with the urge to get away, escape, and rushed out of the room, not stopping until she was outside in the cool night air, hugging her arms to her chest and trying desperately to force a prayer onto her lips.

June came up beside her. 'Sheelagh?'

She exhaled, feeling herself breaking. 'First Des and now...'

'Yeah,' June murmured.

'I thought she was fine,' Sheelagh said, blinking away her tears. 'I mean, we were even laughing and joking in the ambulance.' She paused and tried to steady her voice. 'So young. So quick.'

'I know,' replied June.

Sheelagh squeezed her eyes shut briefly. 'What a waste. It's not fair.'

June sighed. 'No.'

'If anyone it should've been me,' Sheelagh rushed on then, before she could stop herself, added, 'I wish it had've been.'

'Sheelagh, you don't mean that,' June said.

'Don't I?' she retorted.

'Come on, you've still got the...' June trailed off and gestured to her stomach.

Sheelagh looked down, aware of the bitterness leaking into her voice as she muttered, 'Yeah. So I have.' Gently, June put a hand on her shoulder but she shook it off, feeling rage burn in her stomach. 'No!' she snapped. 'Juliet's just died, my husband's left me and I'm carrying a dead man's baby! I don't think tea and sympathy quite covers that, do you?'

Pushing past June, aware of the shocked expression on her face, she stormed back into the hospital. Her anger had abated by the time she reached the waiting room then Gina stepped out in front of her.

'Let's get back to the nick, eh?' Gina said.

The PC who'd driven Gina to the hospital was waiting outside and Sheelagh slotted into the back alongside her. However long the journey was, it felt like mere seconds. Perhaps she'd nodded off or her mind was too occupied with the two dead faces of Des and Juliet circling around it.

Getting out of the car in the yard, the first thing that caught her eye was Juliet's motorbike. It struck her dumb for a few moments until Gina came round to join her. She saw what she was looking at, took a step towards it then turned back towards the station.

'Yeah, get Juliet's bike shifted,' she said. 'I need a drink.'

Sheelagh's eyes lingered on the bike then she was about to follow Gina into the station when something stopped her in her tracks. It was like the noise she'd heard earlier, a whisper, something out of another life. Or, she realised with a shiver, another world.

'Come on, Sheelagh!' Gina called, breaking the spell.

She physically shook herself and began following Gina up the ramp and through into custody. What happened next was a bit of a blur – someone bolted out of the doors pursued by what felt like half of the station. A moment after all that Sam was suddenly in her line of sight, grasping her arm.

'Are you all right?' she asked urgently.

Sheelagh glanced towards the shouts echoing around the yard. 'What's going on?'

'We found Alan Best dead in an alley and that was Gary trying to enact his revenge,' explained Sam, leading her into the deserted custody area. The only two people in there were Mr Okaro and Gina, deep in conversation.

'Go on,' the Super said as they entered, glancing between the three of them, 'you've all done quite enough for tonight. Thank you.'

Sheelagh wasn't about to argue and neither, it seemed, were Sam or Gina. With one hand still firmly on her arm, Sam shepherded her to Gina's office where the inspector instantly lifted a bottle out of her drawer. Then her eyes fell on Sheelagh's stomach.

Sam, still holding her arm, cleared her throat. 'I'll get you something a little more appropriate. Have you eaten anything since that sandwich?'

'No,' she admitted, 'but I should get home. I need to –'

'I've spoken to Patrick,' Sam interrupted. 'I told him that you were at the hospital with Juliet and he said to take as long as you need. He'll stay until you get back so you've got a bit of breathing space, okay? Now, sit down and I'll find you something to eat.'

Sheelagh just nodded, overwhelmed. Sam patted her on the shoulder as she left the office then, finally, Sheelagh became aware of Gina looking at her. She shifted under the scrutiny, wondering if she was about to be interrogated about the baby and Des and all manner of other things that might distract the forthright inspector from what had happened to this station in the last few days – Des and Juliet dead and Polly Page on trial for murder, it was hardly a brilliant week.

Instead, Gina sank into her chair and said, 'As far as coppers go, Samantha's one of the best.'

Frowning, Sheelagh belatedly followed Sam's advice and sat down. 'I know that,' she said.

Gina poured herself a measure of whisky before she added, 'You should've heard some of the things said about her when she first arrived. Here one day and acted up to DI.'

'I can imagine,' Sheelagh replied.

'Doesn't beat around the bush,' Gina went on. 'Gets the job done, doesn't suffer fools, especially not the little boys upstairs.'

'I know all this,' said Sheelagh, a little confused. After the week she'd had this conversation felt surreal.

Gina sipped her whisky and reclined in her seat. 'Brilliant copper, heart of ice though.'

'Oh,' she murmured with a tired smile.

'That held until eight or nine months ago,' Gina said. 'But the rest of the nick, they reckon it still holds.'

'I know how lucky I am,' Sheelagh assured her.

'So long as you do,' answered Gina.

Before she could fathom the way Gina was looking at her, Sam returned with a bottle of water and another sandwich. Sheelagh took the water as Gina poured another measure of whisky and held it out to Sam.

'To Juliet,' Gina said shortly.

'To Juliet,' Sheelagh and Sam repeated, raising their drinks.

Silence descended on the office for a few minutes, Sheelagh acutely aware of her baby all of a sudden. Then some voices drifted along the corridor, urgent and angry. That piqued Gina's interest and she slipped from her seat and out through the door. Sheelagh expected Sam to follow her but she didn't. Instead, she pushed the door to and pulled up a chair beside her.

'How are you feeling?' she asked.

Exhaling, she murmured, 'I went mad and yelled at June.'

Sam chuckled. 'She'll get over it. It's been a hell of a week, she knows that.'

'I thought Juliet was going to be okay,' she admitted, feeling tears brewing. 'Maybe there was more I could've done –'

'Hey,' Sam cut in, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, 'you know that's not the case. You did everything you could, the paramedics did everything they could. The only person to blame for what happened to Juliet is the man who stabbed her. And, maybe,' she added, glancing towards the closed door, 'the idiot who didn't search him properly.'

'You really don't like Cathy Bradford, do you?' she questioned, resting her head on Sam's shoulder.

'It's not a question of like,' Sam answered after a moment. 'I don't trust her. I appreciate being able to trust my team. She sold Polly down the river yesterday. '

'What happened?' Sheelagh asked. 'I never really found out.'

'Oscar-winning performance, if you listen to June Ackland. Frankly, I can believe it,' Sam went on. 'She portrayed Polly as a black widow, it completely undermined your evidence. I always said Polly wasn't a murderer, even though I knew something wasn't right. In her shoes...maybe I'd have done the same.'

Sheelagh closed her eyes. 'Do you think?'

'You can't... You can't see someone you love in pain and not want to ease it,' replied Sam.

'I suppose not,' she answered, though she was drifting, the day catching up with her.

She didn't know how long they stayed like that, her head pressed into the crook of Sam's neck, before a voice commented, 'You two need to get out of here.'

Sheelagh blinked and found Gina standing in front of them. Sam had jolted away, surprised by her entrance, and was finishing her whisky.

After a few seconds, Gina explained, 'Gary's been injured falling off the roof but he's okay. Ellis wasn't so lucky – he's dead.'

'Good riddance, as far as I'm concerned,' Sam said. 'Come on, Sheelagh. You get changed, I'll grab my stuff from upstairs.'

For whatever reason, Sam suddenly seemed eager to leave. To be fair, Sheelagh found herself desperate to be out of this place, even if the alterative was a conversation with the kids she really didn't want to have. Gary coming off the station roof compounded the problem of the last few days – everything in Sun Hill was falling to pieces. With one final attempt at a smile, Sheelagh grasped her sandwich and water and headed to the changing room. She heard Sam peeling off in the opposite direction towards the staircase.

Five minutes later she was just about changed and the door to the locker room tentatively opened. Sam's head bobbed through the gap and Sheelagh sat down on the bench to pull on her shoes. They didn't speak, Sam just leaning against the door frame watching her, and then they walked out to the car in silence.

Inside the car, that silence became almost unbearable. It wasn't that she felt any animosity from Sam, it was just something she couldn't put her finger on. Perhaps it was the stress of the night, coupled with what had happened to Des yesterday. As Sam manoeuvred out of the parking space, Sheelagh reached forward and turned the CD player on. Her reward was ABBA, yes, but a track it took her a few moments to place as 'I've Been Waiting For You'.

'I love this one,' she said softly.

Sam glanced over. 'Me too.'

ABBA accompanied them the rest of the way, Sheelagh focusing on the music to avoid thinking about the impending conversation she needed to have with the kids. When they reached her quiet road the cab was still parked up in the drive. It made her heart ache. Slowly, Sam stretched to turn the radio off and quiet settled around them.

'Do you want me to come in with you?' she asked.

Sheelagh looked across, touched by the offer. 'You go home to Abigail. Give her a big hug.'

'I will,' Sam promised. 'I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Here, don't forget your bag.'

Taking it, Sheelagh felt like she wanted to cry again. Instead, she just whispered, 'Thanks.'

'I'll see you tomorrow,' said Sam.

She nodded, trying to muster some optimism. With one last look at Sam's gentle green eyes, she slid out of the car and let the door slam. Then she took a deep breath and started up the path, feeling the car remain static behind her. It didn't move off until after she was in the house.

Patrick had obviously been listening out for her. He came into the hall, hovering like a child. 'How's your colleague?' he asked.

'She died,' Sheelagh admitted, hearing her voice break. 'How are the kids?'

'I...' He sighed and rubbed his neck. 'I told them what was going on. When that friend of yours called I thought it was best. I didn't know what time you were going to be home and I wanted them to know...'

'I understand,' she replied. 'How did they take it?'

'They've upset,' he answered. 'I'd leave them be if I was you. I'm sorry about your colleague,' he added, ducking into the living room and bringing out a holdall. 'I'll be in touch.'

Within a few seconds he was gone. Sheelagh stood in silence in the hallway, hearing the dull thunk of music above her, and wished she was back in Samantha Nixon's house, safe and secure.


The next day dawned in various shades of grey. Sheelagh rose early after a restless night, hoping to catch some time with the kids but they refused, barrelling straight towards the door or ignoring her completely in favour of their headphones. It was a battle she was going to have to fight at some point but she couldn't bring herself to do it today. Instead, she forced herself to eat some toast – Sam's voice ringing in her ears – and focused on getting into work. Today she was expecting a tumultuous day, Juliet's death haunting them all, but it was her job to stem as much gossip as she could.

She missed Sam's strength walking into the station today but she recognised that coming to rely so much on another person was a dangerous game. While she was hardly equating Sam's steadfast support with Des's promises, she knew that she couldn't continue to impose on Sam's professional life. Time after time over the last week her first instinct had been to seek Sam's support but that wasn't sustainable. She had to remember that she was a grown woman – now a single mother – she had to try and cope with her emotions on her own without bothering Sam all the time.

The topic of conversation was indeed Juliet's death and Gary's accident yesterday. At least that had superseded Des's crash but Sheelagh did hear her name mentioned in relation to Juliet's stabbing. She hid herself in her office away from the chatter, though she had to leave every so often to appease her overactive bladder. It was after one of those trips that June appeared, bundling her back into their shared office and nudging the door closed.

'I spoke to Mr Okaro earlier,' June said. 'He thinks Des might still be alive.'

Sheelagh's head snapped sideways. 'Why?'

'They didn't find his body at the warehouse,' explained June.

'Where is he?' Sheelagh questioned, feeling detached from her surroundings 'Are there any clues at all?'

'No, I don't think so,' June answered. 'Can you think of any reason why Des might go into hiding? Could it be because of Patrick or the baby?'

A reason Des might go into hiding... Sheelagh squeezed her eyes closed briefly and tried to shake her head. She knew it didn't work. She'd seen the state of Reg in the hospital, after all. If Des had deliberately driven into that warehouse then that meant he'd left Reg for dead. Given what she knew of him now – that he'd killed six of his colleagues – maybe she shouldn't be surprised. Was there a reason Des might go into hiding? Yes. There was. And, suddenly, Sheelagh needed to escape June's inquisitive stare.

'I'm sorry...' she murmured, grabbing for the door handle.

Escaping into the bathroom was the only respite she was likely to have. She didn't know how to cope with this news. She'd spent the last two days believing Des was dead. Accepting that had been hard enough. She'd grieved for him, she'd grieved for the father her baby wasn't going to know. To suffer like that and then to find out that he'd faked his own death... Anyone who could make her endure that, especially given her condition, was hardly proving their worth. Just two days ago she'd been willing to sacrifice her comfortable life for Des. Despite knowing what he'd done, she was willing to put her life in his hands – and this was how he'd repaid her. It wasn't love, was it? It was selfishness. He'd seen the danger to himself and he'd decided to look after number one. What kind of father was that?

'Sheelagh?'

She jumped then let out her breath, glancing sideways at Sam hovering by the door. The look on her face suggested that she was apprised of the situation – at least, as much as she could be.

'June came to see me,' Sam said after a few moments of silence. 'She told me what the Super said about Des.'

Sheelagh tried to look over and found she couldn't. Looking into Sam's eyes meant confessing the truth.

There was a long pause then Sam asked, 'Is it the perjury? Is that why Des might've wanted to go into hiding?'

Trying to hold it together, she kept her gaze on the sink. Then Sam abruptly swept across the bathroom and rested a hand on her arm. Looking up, Sheelagh caught the concern in her eyes and she faltered. If this was anyone else she would've deflected but with Sam looking at her in this moment she couldn't. Besides, yesterday morning, hadn't she promised that if it would make a difference now she'd tell her the truth? Although she was aware that once she said the words, things would change, she knew she needed to do it.

'I wish he was dead,' she murmured, covering Sam's hand with her own. 'He'd be better off. The other night... It seems so long ago now – after the memorial dedication, do you remember?'

'Yeah,' Sam replied, 'you were distraught.'

'You didn't push me to tell you why,' Sheelagh said, shifting her focus back to the sink bowl but keeping her hand pressed against Sam's. 'You've no idea how much easier that's made things. I didn't want to drag you into it, not after you've been so good to me. But if he isn't dead... The reason he wants to disappear,' she went on slowly, 'isn't because he lied about Geoff Simpson's confession. It's because he...he threw the petrol bomb into the station that night.'

Sam's fingers tightened on her arm. 'That's what he told you?'

Hearing the quiver in her voice, Sheelagh's gaze was drawn up to her face. Her eyes were wide then they flicked in the direction of her stomach.

'That why you were asking me questions about Abi and Glenn,' she continued in a murmur then she glanced around the bathroom. 'Maybe we should take this upstairs, okay?'

Sheelagh nodded and relinquished her grip on Sam's hand. It took a few seconds for Sam to pull away from her, nibbling on her lip and plainly showing how unsettled she was by this latest bombshell. Not for the first time in recent days, Sheelagh felt incredibly guilty for burdening her but, also, undeniably relieved she had.

The journey upstairs was almost halted by Honey Harman then Sam stepped in between them, explaining, 'I actually need a word with Sergeant Murphy urgently. I saw Sergeant Ackland in her office though. I'm sure she can help.'

That quietened the usually-chatty constable and she slipped off, red-faced, down the staircase. Despite the emotions raging inside of her, Sheelagh couldn't help but smile at DI Nixon's way of striking the younger members of the relief dumb. Gina had been right last night – most people around here still believed the hype, even after all the stuff with Abigail.

When they reached CID no one seemed eager to be noticed by their boss, which was apparently fine by Sam. She whisked them into the office, closing the door and twitching the blinds closed. Then she turned and urged Sheelagh into a chair before rounding the desk. Her movements were very precise, betraying how disturbed she was. For a few minutes she didn't say a word and Sheelagh stared into her lap.

'Okay,' Sam said finally and Sheelagh looked up to see her expression resolute. She immediately felt better. 'So Des wanted everyone to think he was dead,' continued Sam in much the same tone of voice she used for cases. 'What happened the night of the fire, did he tell you?'

Sheelagh inhaled deeply. 'It was counterfeit money, if you can believe it.'

Frowning, Sam asked, 'What do you mean?'

'He'd taken a counterfeit fifty from a prisoner and put it in the collection for Mr Conway,' Sheelagh explained, somehow keeping her voice calm. 'With the station under attack he saw the chance to destroy the collection and get himself out of a hole. He hadn't counted on there being some gas canisters inside and... Well, the rest you know.'

'And he decided to fit Simpson up,' Sam said, rubbing her forehead. 'Until Sally Johnson started poking around, that was fine. Does anyone else know it was Des who threw that petrol bomb?'

'No,' she said. Reg had enough problems at the moment with third-degree burns without an investigation being launched about why he'd kept his knowledge of Des's actions to himself. There were going to be enough questions asked of Sheelagh herself on that score and she was dreading it.

Sam cleared her throat and straightened out some files on her desk. 'I appreciate the lie,' she said then she hesitated.

'I know what you're thinking,' Sheelagh said quietly. 'How could I know what he'd done and still agree to leave Patrick?'

'Of all people, I've got no room to judge,' answered Sam.

Sheelagh shook her head. 'No, you were braver than me. I couldn't face being a single mother and I couldn't carry on lying to Patrick.'

'What Des did sounds like an accident to me,' Sam said. 'You think that, don't you? Whatever your fears, Sheelagh, you couldn't completely disregard everything you believe in if you thought it was anything but a stupid...mistake.'

'How do you know that?' she questioned. 'I don't know that.'

Sam gazed at her sympathetically. 'Yes, you do. Besides,' she went on, lacing her fingers together, 'you've admitted you love him. That makes you do funny things.'

'I can't love him,' Sheelagh replied forcefully. 'You said it about you and Glenn – you can't love someone you don't know, can you? I fell for someone putting on an act, pretending to be a hero when he's nothing more than a coward. What kind of man leaves his friend to die in a burning building while he fakes his own death?'

'Hey,' Sam muttered, coming around the desk and leaning against the edge just in front of her. 'You need to calm down, okay? For the baby's sake.'

Letting out her breath, Sheelagh nodded. 'Okay.'

'Good.' Reaching over, Sam squeezed her shoulder. 'What do you wanna do?'

'I can't think straight,' she admitted. 'I don't know.'

'That's understandable,' said Sam. 'You only found out he's alive half an hour ago.'

She raised her eyes to Sam's. 'But I have to do something, don't I?'

Instead of answering, she just crossed her arms. That was the professional Samantha Nixon abdicating responsibility – the closest Sheelagh was going to get to being told that this conversation would never be repeated outside of these walls if she said the word. But that put Sam in an intolerable position, didn't it?

Abruptly, there was a knock on the door and Gina entered, a harried expression on her face. 'I don't know why I didn't just check in here first,' she said, 'it'd save time. Sheelagh, I need you on CAD.'

Sheelagh stood. 'Yes, Ma'am.'

Gina glanced to Sam and checked her watch. 'I thought you had that meeting with the community leaders down on the Cockcroft.'

Wincing, Sam grabbed for her coat. 'Thanks for that.'

She spared a look for Sheelagh before she left the office, just long enough to let her know that she didn't think any less of her because of this mess. Sheelagh appreciated it more than she could say, not that she would have a chance of formulating words with Gina stood right there.

'Chop, chop!' Gina said, clapping her hands together. 'Come on, Sheelagh.'


For the rest of the day she was stuck in CAD. In a way, it was good for her. Answering calls from the public and passing instructions onto officers kept her distracted, it kept her mind away from Des. Her shift finished at four and, from a call she heard about some trouble on the Cockcroft, Sam was still down there. Part of her wanted to wait and talk to her when she got back but the sensible half of her knew she couldn't involve Sam in whatever decision she made about all this. Taking the night to herself was the better option, however lonely she felt as she left the station.

She made attempts to speak to the kids but just got silence or monosyllables in return. Given what had happened today, she still couldn't muster the fight to talk to them properly. Her mind was too much in turmoil and if she started trying to explain her affair to them then who knew where it might end? She didn't want to burden her children with any unnecessary knowledge; she'd already done that far too much with Sam.

When she got to work the next morning she wasn't very surprised to find Sam waiting for her in the car park. What did surprise her was the anxious look on her face. Locking the car, Sheelagh went over to join her.

'What's wrong?' she asked.

Sam placed a hand on her spine, ushering her away from the entrance. 'I've been thinking, spent most of the night thinking actually.'

Sheelagh grimaced. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to –'

'No, forget that,' Sam interrupted. 'I don't care about that. I was thinking about Abi and Glenn. One of the things I was petrified about was him finding out somehow, Sheelagh; wanting to be part of her life. That was bad enough and he wasn't on the run. Do you understand?'

Reaching out, she gripped Sam's hand. 'Do you think he'd do that?'

'You know him better than me,' answered Sam. 'Listen, I'm not trying to pressure you into passing the information on,' she continued. 'I know what this means, more than you do. People will know, they'll look at you differently. If you're the one to grass him up, you'll feel guilty for doing it, I know, but it's beyond that now. You said yourself, he left Reg to die in that warehouse – what else is he capable of? You were right that none of it mattered while we thought he was dead. But it matters now, for you and the baby if nothing else.'

'I've got to tell the Super,' Sheelagh murmured.

Sam nodded and swivelled towards the entrance. 'Let me drop my bag off and I'll come with you.'

'No,' replied Sheelagh, tugging her back, 'I don't want to get you involved in this.'

'No arguments,' Sam said firmly. 'I'm already involved.'

'Not officially,' she argued. 'You don't need to have your name dragged into it.'

'Sheelagh,' Sam said, turning to face her and looking her straight in the eye, 'I'm not letting you go through this alone. You're stuck with me so you better get used to it. Understood?'

'Understood,' she said with a soft smile.

After squeezing her hand, Sam released it and walked to the door, holding it open for Sheelagh to pass through. They were about to turn left to go straight up to CID when Marilyn called them over to the desk.

'Ma'am,' she said to Sam, 'Mr Meadows wants to see you as soon as you arrive. I think...' After glancing around, Marilyn continued in a low voice, 'I think it's about Cathy Bradford going on breakfast television this morning.'

'What?' Sheelagh and Sam asked in unison.

Marilyn winced. 'She was talking about Polly's conviction and how betrayed it made her feel. She ended up in tears.'

'I don't believe this,' Sam growled.

'Go,' Sheelagh said, touching her arm. 'Find me when you're done.'

With a grateful nod, Sam jammed the code into the door and hurried up the stairs. Sheelagh lingered for a few minutes, getting the details of Cathy's television shenanigans from Marilyn. Once she got into the station proper that was the topic of conversation. No one seemed to make the link with Juliet's death the other night, no one seemed to have the sense to wonder why controversy was following Cathy around at the moment. To be fair, if Sheelagh hadn't had Sam's insight from when she was investigating the allegation against Polly, she might not think much about Cathy either way. One thing was for sure – most people in the station thought a lot of Polly, conviction for murder or not. Cathy's evidence had tipped the scales against her and now she'd rubbed salt into the wound. Sheelagh wouldn't like to be in her shoes; she was just relieved that she worked upstairs in CSU so she didn't have to deal with her on a daily basis.

An hour or so later there was a knock on the open door of the Sergeants' Office. Looking up, she found Sam hovering on the threshold.

'Sorry,' she said, 'I had to check in with Debbie. She's insisting she's fine but I know she was friends with Juliet. I wouldn't expect her to talk to me, to be fair. Anyway, do you want to get this over with?'

Sheelagh slid out from behind the desk, aware of the fact she was shaking. 'Yeah.'

As they walked upstairs Sheelagh felt herself giving way. Without Sam beside her, she knew she wouldn't go through with this and, yet, for the sake of her baby she had to do it. It was Sam who approached the door first; Sam who, after glancing over to check it was okay, knocked then opened the door when Mr Okaro called them in.

He rose on seeing them. 'Is everything all right?' he asked.

Sam cleared her throat. 'Sir, we've erm... We need to tell you something a little delicate.'

'Please, sit down,' he said, gesturing to the chairs.

Sheelagh felt herself wobble and saw Sam's hand reach out to steady her before she checked herself. That gave Sheelagh the strength to open her mouth though – this was her tale to tell and much more hesitation on her part would likely lead to Sam taking on the burden herself.

So, in a dispassionate voice, she recounted the bare details – Des had confessed to her that he threw the petrol bomb into Sun Hill and had subsequently seen the opportunity to frame Geoff Simpson for the crime. He'd then driven into the warehouse the other day for reasons she wasn't certain of but which were undeniably related to his belief that the net was closing in. She didn't say how long she'd known the truth and she certainly didn't mention that Sam had known overnight and had been almost willing to keep it to herself.

When she'd finished and Mr Okaro was rising to show them out of the office he touched her arm. 'Sheelagh, I appreciate how hard this was for you, given the circumstances. But thank you for telling me.'

She just nodded, relieved the ordeal was over. Sam muttered something to the Super then followed her out into the corridor. Glancing sideways, Sheelagh saw a frown on her face.

'What?' she asked.

Sam pressed her lips together. 'How is it the Super knows about you and Des?'

Sheelagh flushed, remembering all too well the moment Mr Okaro had walked into the Sergeants' Office while she was giving in to her feelings for Des. It wasn't something she'd been proud of at the time and now, in hindsight, it positively humiliating. Out of everything she'd confided to Sam in the last week, why was this so difficult?

'There was an incident,' she said finally. 'The day of my wedding anniversary.'

'Right,' Sam murmured and Sheelagh could see the cogs working in her brain. Then her face cleared quickly – too quickly – and she nodded. 'Are you gonna be all right?'

'I'll be fine,' she answered. 'I feel better now. Thank you. I'd better get some work done.'

'Yeah, me too.'

Though Sam attempted a smile, it didn't reach her eyes. After patting Sheelagh on the arm she disappeared in the direction of CID, plunging her hands into her pockets as soon as she was through the doors. Sheelagh watched her until her view was obscured then slowly returned to her office.

The rest of the day was a patchy mess of scandals. Gina called the relief together in the canteen, explaining to them that Des was on the run which, of course, nobody really understood. There were good reasons for not telling them the truth, especially given that some of them had lost valued colleagues in that fire. Even so, it was difficult to expect them to turn in another colleague when they didn't know what he'd done. It was a tricky balance but Sheelagh tried to distance herself from it. She had enough pressing problems and, besides, with the entire station now keeping an eye out for Des she at least felt a bit safer.

Cathy Bradford made a stir, wandering into the canteen and glowing about her welcoming committee. Sheelagh struggled to hide her irritation at that but didn't succumb to her urge to retreat into her office. For now she wanted to know what was being said about Des, to see if anybody had an inkling. She got herself a tea and sat down with a few of the relief, not participating much in the conversation but listening to everything. Then voices at the next table caught her attention.

'Inspector's exams?' Rob was saying.

'What, you're surprised Miss Know-it-all passed?' Phil retorted. 'Suppose this means we're stuck with her. Looks good, doesn't it? Female DI. Ticks all the PC boxes.'

'You've gotta play smarter, mate,' Rob replied. 'I know Sam, remember. Let her have enough rope, she's bound to hang herself.'

Phil snorted. 'I thought she already had, mate! All that stuff with her daughter and she still comes out smelling of roses.'

Sheelagh had heard enough. Excusing herself from her table, she went back to her office a little bemused. While things had been a little crazy in the last couple of days, it was strange that Sam hadn't mentioned something as fundamentally important as passing her exams. More than that, she hadn't even mentioned she was taking them. Maybe that second part had been due to the half-confidences floating around between them thanks to the pregnancy. And, then, perhaps Sam hadn't wanted to gloat about her good news given all that was going on. But Sheelagh wouldn't have taken it that way – surely Sam knew that? Or had she been so focused on looking after her that she'd just thought it irrelevant?

She didn't get the chance to ask her. Their paths didn't cross for the rest of the day and Sam didn't seek her out. While that felt unusual given the intensity of their friendship recently, it might just have been because she'd spent so much time neglecting her work lately that she'd needed to immerse herself for a bit. If she'd passed her exams and was looking seriously at the prospect of the permanent DI's job then she needed to focus on the job to an extent. Still, Sheelagh couldn't help but miss her presence as she left the station at the end of the shift. She was working afternoon and evenings for the next couple of days, meaning that the likelihood of bumping into Sam at work was slim though, if she needed her, she knew all she had to do was ask. It was a reassuring thought.


That evening was marked by Declan finally coming out of his shell and ralling against her. It resulted in a broken cup and hot chocolate stains down the kitchen wall. She set about cleaning up the mess without a murmur, almost grateful that the barrier had been shattered. It was a case of one down, two to go, though Declan's assertion that he wanted to live with Patrick shook her up. Maybe it was just the anger talking but the idea that none of them wanted to accept this baby was something that kept her awake into the small hours. Coupled with her fears about Des ignited yesterday by Sam, she didn't sleep very well at all. The late start didn't help much either – she spent most of the morning staring into space and listening to the silence in the house.

Once she got to work she was at least able to distract herself. Gina posted her to CAD – somewhere she suspected was going to be her second home for the next few months – and briefly explained that they'd had no news of Des and were working under the assumption that he wouldn't hang around.

'He'll suspect the cat's out of the bag,' Gina explained, halting by the door.

'You mean he'll know I gave him up,' Sheelagh muttered.

Gina stepped back into the office. 'Oi, you did the right thing and you know it. He made his bed.'

'And so did I,' replied Sheelagh, her hands slipping down to her stomach automatically.

It didn't seem Gina knew what to say to that. She threw her a sympathetic smile then tapped twice on the door frame and disappeared back across to her own office. After checking her email Sheelagh went along to CAD and prepared for a long stint sat down.

When she went on refs early evening she sat alone in the canteen, unwilling to get drawn into any of the gossip about Des that she could hear swirling around the place. Looking deep into her cooling cup of tea, she was startled when someone sat down beside her. Though her first instinct was to hurry away, she relaxed when she saw it was Sam. It might only have been thirty hours or so since she'd seen her but she didn't realise how much she'd missed her reassuring smile.

'What are you still doing here?' Sheelagh asked.

'Partly paperwork,' Sam answered, settling her elbows on the table. 'Partly the uneasy feeling I shouldn't leave the nick before Phil.'

'What's he done now?'

'I don't know,' said Sam, 'but there's something going on with him and I don't trust it. Anyway,' she went on, 'I asked Gina earlier what time you were in. I wanted to see how you were.'

'Okay, I think,' she replied. 'Declan blew up at me last night but it's better out than in, I suppose. Nothing from Des,' she added before Sam could ask.

'Nothing from upstairs either,' Sam returned. 'If there's anything at all I'll let you know.'

Sheelagh nodded, though she didn't see how Sam could stick to that promise given their difference in rank. If there was something the DCI warned her to keep to herself, how could she reject that warning? She couldn't, not when her career was on the line. Instead of drawing attention to that point, she commented, 'I hear congratulations are in order.'

It seemed to take Sam a few seconds to realise what she was talking about. 'How did you hear about that?'

'Your ears become accustomed to gossip in this place,' she answered. 'It was Phil's nattering as a matter of fact.'

'I bet it was,' Sam said with a chuckle then she hesitated. 'How are you coping with all the other gossip?'

'I'm trying to blot it out,' she admitted.

'Probably best,' Sam replied.

Sheelagh studied her carefully. 'You've been listening.'

Shrugging, Sam said, 'Let's just say I nearly smashed Rob and Gabriel's heads together this morning.'

'And it's probably best you don't do that,' Sheelagh retorted, though she couldn't help but smile.

'There we go,' Sam murmured.

Sheelagh frowned and asked, 'What?'

'I got a smile,' said Sam.

'About the only person who could,' Sheelagh returned, almost gratified to see the tinge of embarrassment grace Sam's cheeks. She liked that; a reminder of the way she could break down Samantha Nixon's barriers with a few well-placed words, a reminder of their relationship. She felt as though something had abruptly shifted between them yesterday morning, after they'd spoken to Mr Okaro, but whatever that was had been swept away and things were the same again. 'Why didn't you tell me about the exam?' Sheelagh asked softly after a moment.

'It didn't seem appropriate,' Sam replied. 'Compared to everything else that's going on, it's pretty unimportant.'

Sheelagh gazed at her fondly. 'What would people do if they knew the real you?'

The blush on Sam's face deepened as she stood. 'No one'd believe you,' she returned. 'They'd think you'd lost your marbles. They'd probably have you committed.'

'It'd be a rest,' Sheelagh remarked.

Smothering her smile, Sam questioned, 'Are you on lates again tomorrow?'

'Yeah,' she said. 'Keeps me out of mischief I suppose.'

Sam raised an eyebrow. 'What part of threatening to expose me to half the nick counts as you keeping out of mischief?'

Chuckling, she shrugged. 'Fair point. What?' she added when Sam unsuccessfully tried to hide her amusement.

'That was a laugh,' she explained before striding out of the canteen looking very pleased with herself.


One of the benefits of working late was that she could discount the kids' avoidance of her as almost normal. When she arrived at work the next afternoon Sheelagh listened into the gossips but the fresh topic of conversation was the new DC upstairs, attached to the Public Protection Unit and in charge of keeping track of paedophiles in the borough. From an angry tirade she overheard from Tony, she gathered that not everyone agreed with his approach. It was a thankless job really but Sheelagh heard from June that DC Terry Perkins was the officer who'd looked after Laura Meadows in the aftermath of her assault a few months ago. If June said he was a good addition to the team then Sheelagh was inclined to believe that, though she made a mental note to ask Sam about him when she got the chance.

Paperwork was the order of the afternoon. She sat in her office with the door open, more able to listen to the voices floating along the corridor now she wasn't hearing Des's name every five minutes. That meant that her inherent nosiness kicked back into gear and when she saw Rob Thatcher hovering in the doorway of Inspector Gold's office she couldn't help but be intrigued, especially given how animated Gina's voice was. Only when she heard Rob let out a laugh did she give in and move towards the door on a pretext.

'Hang on there, Ma'am,' he was saying. 'I'm under orders to leave as soon as you start down that path.'

'Whose orders?' Gina asked.

'The DI,' Rob answered. 'She suggested you might get a bit enthusiastic.'

'Cheek,' Gina muttered, though there was a smile on her face. 'Come on, I'll fill her in myself. Blokes like Dennis Weaver give boxing a bad name.'

Standing by the door, Sheelagh was in Rob's line of sight when he turned to go back upstairs then Gina's when she came out into the corridor.

'What are you grinning at?' she questioned.

'Nothing, Ma'am,' Sheelagh returned, unable to clear her expression in time.

'Oh, you're both as bad as each other,' Gina grumbled as she disappeared towards the staircase.

The afternoon wore on relatively calmly compared to recent days. Sheelagh could feel herself uncoiling, feel herself growing accustomed to this new shift in her life and she threw herself into her work as part of that. A while later she was trying to decipher Honey Harman's account of a robbery arrest when a familiar figure swept into the office and pushed the door closed.

'You're gonna love this,' Sam commented then pulled a bar of chocolate from her pocket. 'Here, before I forget.'

Sheelagh gratefully reached for it. 'What will I love?'

'I'm going to a boxing match with Gina tonight.' When Sheelagh burst out laughing she growled in mock-affront. 'Oi!'

'Come on,' Sheelagh argued, trying to stifle her grin, 'if that wasn't designed to get me laughing I don't know what was.'

'Well, at least that's one benefit,' Sam retorted. 'Almost makes up for it.'

'Is this to do with the case that Rob's working on?' asked Sheelagh, breaking open the chocolate and offering a piece across. Sam took it with a smile and busied herself with chewing for a few moments; Sheelagh did the same.

'We're investigating Dennis Weaver,' Sam said finally. 'Match-fixing, bribery, all the usual things. One of the guys tonight is meant to be throwing the fight so we thought we'd take a look. I was originally meant to be going with Phil but you should've seen the look on Gina's face. Phil pulled out so it's just me and her.

'Have you found out what's going on with him yet?' Sheelagh questioned.

'Personal problems,' Sam answered with a shrug. 'For once I actually think it's the right kind of personal problems, if you know what I mean.'

'With Phil, I know what you mean,' returned Sheelagh. 'Anyway, I think Gina's company enough for you.'

Sam grinned and stretched out. 'She scares me when she talks about boxing, never mind being there. It's like Abi in a shoe shop.'

Chuckling, Sheelagh caught sight of the woman in question about to knock on the door and warned, 'I think you're off.'

Letting out a little groan, Sam stretched across the table and whipped the chocolate bar away, breaking another piece off as the door opened.

'Oi,' Sheelagh complained, 'that was meant to be for me.'

Sam just shot her a smile – the one Sheelagh knew she reserved only for her at work – and swivelled around to face Gina in the doorway. 'Are we ready?'

'If you've finished gossiping,' Gina answered.

Glancing over her shoulder, Sam said, 'You'd better still be here when I get back.'

'Oh, I wouldn't miss it for the world,' she replied. 'Have fun.'

For the next few hours the only interruptions to her paperwork were a couple of queries from officers and one rather bizarre phone conversation with a pensioner she'd helped with a burglary back in the summer. Apparently her cat was missing and Sheelagh had to gently persuade her that it wasn't a police matter. All that conversation really did was make her miss the steady presence of her mother who would've been a Godsend in the mess she'd made of things.

She became aware of some activity in the corridor, maybe that innate ability she seemed to have to sense Sam's presence kicking in again. Patiently, she waited, knowing that if Sam was back in the station then she'd keep her word and drop by. Ten minutes later, she did, dropping into the chair with much less bounce than she'd had earlier in the evening.

'What happened?' Sheelagh questioned.

Sam exhaled slowly. 'Well, our guy was being pummelled then he just changed his mind, decided not to throw the match. Good for Gina – she'd put money on him – but not so good for Dennis Weaver. He didn't like losing his money so, when we went back after the match, we found Joel Brewer unconscious. We arrested Weaver but we've got nothing to hold him on, especially since Brewer's now come round and said he didn't see what happened. Gina's just released him.'

'Speak of the devil,' Sheelagh said, nodding behind her where Gina was leaning in through the doorway.

'My ears burning?' she queried. 'Come on, the pair of you. There's a drink with your name on it. A soft drink, Sheelagh,' she added when Sam made to open her mouth. 'Come on.'

Settled across the corridor, Sheelagh felt more at home than ever. Gina was reclining in her chair with her feet up on the desk while Sam seemed equally as relaxed with her feet on the ground. In this cocoon it was difficult to believe how mixed up things were outside of it.

'You should've seen this one,' Gina said after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

'Gina...' Sam said warningly.

'Looking at me like I was crazy one minute and screaming her head off the next.'

Sam rolled her eyes. 'You are crazy and I was not screaming my head off.'

'Oh, you enjoyed it, admit it.'

Raising her glass to her lips, Sam conceded that with a half-shrug and Sheelagh grinned. 'Hey,' Sam said, 'you can keep quiet as well.'

'I didn't say a word,' she said innocently.

'You didn't have to,' Sam retorted.

Sheelagh just smirked at her and looked to Gina. 'How enthusiastic was she exactly?'

As Sam groaned and covered her face, Gina replied, 'Counting down with the rest of us, even got a hug out of her at the end of it all.'

'That sounds pretty involved to me,' Sheelagh said with a sidelong glance at Sam's evident discomfort. 'I'll remember that.'

'I should hope so,' Gina said.

Fifteen minutes later Sheelagh reluctantly returned to her own office to pack up. To her surprise, Sam followed her across and scrutinised her.

'How are you doing?' she asked.

'I'm okay,' Sheelagh answered, more firmly than she had yesterday. She knew Sam registered the shift in tone from the growing smile on her face.

'Let me know if you need anything,' Sam said as she stepped back to the doorway.

'A full account of you at the boxing might be nice,' Sheelagh suggested.

'Not a chance,' Sam said. 'You'd have to beat it out of me.'

'Maybe I will,' she retorted.

The last thing she saw before Sam turned away was the challenging quirk of an eyebrow.