Ugh. This was the chapter that just wouldn't come. I know where I'm going with this story, but I really struggled here.

A couple of things I wanted to mention. I'm framing this around the pandemic to some degree, since that's what they seemed to be doing in the series. We weren't out partying in the autumn of 2020 - or at least not having university parties - which is why I've moved this forward into 2021. But the series didn't make a lot of sense in places anyway. We know that Simone arrived shortly before Halloween, because she's a relatively new employee during that last episode, so we have to assume it was around early to mid October...but it was snowing in that episode! So, I do think the pandemic slightly affected the continuity (and possibly the quality) of the last series.

Secondly, I struggled to cover the events of Brother's Keeper. There were lots of lovely Jakki moments there, but it was hard to get them into a narrative without essentially just copying the scenes. That's why it's taken me so long to update this...and I'm still not entirely happy with it. Heigh ho...

How the hell did you go about telling your colleague of nearly ten years that you were in love with them, and probably had been for the best part of those ten years?

Especially when that colleague was your de-facto boss, and your work conditions were so intimate that it was practically impossible to get any privacy – when you had to have absolute trust and open communication just to get the job done? When even a minor disagreement could make it difficult to be as efficient as you needed to be? After all, they'd been there – hadn't they? - when Jack had made mistakes after Mexico because he'd been too busy worrying about Nikki… and back then they'd had Thomas and Clarissa as a buffer.

If he screwed this up, there'd be no coming back. It would be impossible to work with her if she found out the truth and didn't return his feelings. The sheer embarrassment alone would be unbearable.

Not that he really thought that she was indifferent. As the weeks passed, as spring gave way to summer once more, and their grief over Adam's death became less acute, a familiar tension seemed to arise again. Once more, they were alone in the office most of the time, and there seemed to be a heightened awareness of the fact. Not an unpleasant awareness – at least, not for him.

He was more conscious of each casual touch. His body tingled whenever they brushed arms while crouching close together at a scene, and he sensed her almost silent intake of breath at the same moment. They had worked together long enough to develop a kind-of dance around each other. He knew how to fold his tall frame into a potentially cramped environment, and she had an instinctive knowledge of how to accommodate his height through considerate movements of her own. They'd been doing that for so many years that it was second nature to them…so why was he suddenly so tuned into her? Why was there so much significance in her resting a hand on his shoulder to adjust her position or automatically putting out a hand for an evidence bag without asking?

Was it just his overactive imagination or was she really looking at him more often? At the office, it felt as if every time he lifted his eyes from his work to glance in her direction (and maybe he was doing that just a little more frequently these days), her face seemed to turn away quickly. Occasionally, he caught her eyes on him and they would share a brief awkward moment, usually interrupted by the phone or by one of the lab technicians coming in.

Even Nikki's garden didn't feel like the quiet haven that it had the previous year. For a start, no one seemed to know the rules - were they still in lockdown or not? Cases were rising again, but the streets were busier, the evenings less peaceful. And the weather was not so clement in the summer of 2021. Jack wasn't self-isolating, so he could go inside her house, but the atmosphere there was different too. Harry had finally moved out into a rental apartment earlier in the year. It should have felt more intimate without him around, but Nikki seemed uncomfortable and tense most of the time. She'd always leave a gap between them when sitting on the sofa; her old natural habit of leaning into him affectionately and laying her head on his shoulder was gone…and he couldn't work out why.

Part of the problem, Jack suspected, was the ongoing situation with Matt. One night, when he'd popped over with a bottle and an Indian takeaway, Nikki had seemed actively upset. She'd denied it strenuously and with such a dark expression on her face that even Jack didn't dare push for more. Later, her phone had rang and she'd taken the call in the kitchen; Jack had heard the tension in her voice as it rose and fell. It was clear that the couple had reached crisis point, but Nikki either couldn't, or wouldn't, give Jack any details…much to Clarissa's irritation when Jack discussed it with her.

Even on the small Zoom screen on his iPad, Jack could see her bristling with annoyance. Max had considerately slipped away to allow his wife space to vent freely…or perhaps to avoid the fireworks.

"For God's sake – tell her! Or I will," she threatened.

"It's not that simple -."

"Oh, it never bloody is with you and Nikki! I'm sick of it. Honestly, I expected you to be shagging like bunnies and irritatingly smug about it throughout the entirety of this never-ending pandemic. You were finally going to man up last year – what the hell happened?"

Jack shrugged. "Well – mostly – the pandemic. And Harry, I suppose."

She snorted with disgust. "Bollocks."

"Gotta say, your language has really deteriorated during lockdown, Dr. Mullery."

The glint in her eye told him that she wasn't prepared to be distracted. "Complete and utter bollocks, Jack. You could have confessed any time in the last eighteen months, Harry or not, and you know it."

"And Matt?"

She dismissed Nikki's partner as so much irrelevance. "You know as well as I do that he's no good for her – not now, if he ever was. They're far too different. When did you ever know Nikki to be impressed by money, power, posh restaurants, parties – all that rubbish? She couldn't care less. The happiest I've ever seen her is slumming it on your crappy old sofa with a slice of pizza and a glass of red."

"Thanks a lot." He didn't have to fake the outrage, being quite fond of his old leather sofa.

She smirked. "Well, it is a bit crappy."

"Old, I grant you…but well-used. Comfortable."

"Maybe that's why she's so attached to it. I swear it's got a permanent Nikki-shaped dent."

He sighed. "Well, to be fair, we haven't had a chance to see Nikki in Washington. She might be equally attached to Matt's sofa."

Clarissa's grin had disappeared. "I don't think so – not going by her body language when we spoke the other day."

"Did she say anything?"

"No – it was more what she didn't say… But look, she's changed. The volunteering at the food bank for a start. Being separated from your partner for the best part of two years probably doesn't help, but I suspect they were drifting apart even before the pandemic. She was always uneasy at the prospect of being a politician's wife. It was probably glamourous at first, but I think that being apart from him for so long has helped her realize it was never going to work out long term… He's not right for her - and I don't know how many times in my life I'm going to have to remind you of this, Jack, but you are. And – frankly – seeing you wasting your time so pointlessly, it – it depresses me. As if my life right now isn't depressing enough."

He eyed her sympathetically. "That bad?"

She paused, as if trying to work out how to word it. "I'm not…scared, if that's what you're thinking. I've had enough health crises in my life – if I catch the virus, it'll be just another attempt on my life… No, not scared, but…" She took a deep breath. "You know why I left the Lyell. I wanted to see more of life, and we'd just started to do that. I've spent most of my life trying to challenge the limits of my disability. When I was a child, there was no way I'd have been able to travel around the world - the technology didn't exist. It does now – and yet, here I am. Stuck at home."

There was an emptiness in her tone that was new. He forced a reassuring smile. "C'mon, kid. It'll be over soon."

"Will it?" She sighed. "I don't know. But anyway…back to you and Nikki. You do know how you can put a smile back on my face, don't you…?"

It was a depressing summer in many ways. Jack, in common with most people (including Clarissa, apparently), was getting sick of the Covid rules. However, he was sensible enough to continue using a mask in public and maintaining strict hygiene. Conor complained from time to time, but mostly seemed resigned to the point of lethargy. Jack had noticed that his father had slowed down in recent months and grown progressively shakier. He rarely ventured out and seemed afraid of falling. He'd also become a little vague, occasionally repeating himself. That was almost more of a concern to Jack than his physical frailty – Conor had always been sharp.

The one bright spark in their life was Cara, who'd chosen to stay in London for a while, enrolling on a photography course. Jack suspected that the course was merely an excuse for not returning to her mother; in reality, Cara planned to stay until her father was released from prison, and possibly beyond if the two of them got on as well as they seemed to during her brief prison visits. The girl seemed to have an extraordinary capacity for forgiveness.

As autumn rolled around, Jack felt an additional weight on his shoulders. He'd agreed to act as guarantor for Ryan's probation and allow him to move into his house until his brother could make other arrangements. He couldn't shift the knot of unease in his stomach. In truth, he'd only agreed because he hoped it would brighten Conor up to have both his sons living with him…and who knew how much time his father had left? Ryan had a right to spend time with his father while he still could.

At first, his brother had seemed disconcertingly quiet and apparently grateful to have somewhere to live. His affinity with Cara was clear, but Jack found himself gritting his teeth as he watched their interactions. He feared for Cara, and he couldn't exactly say why. He couldn't help but remember Katie Bowman and Hannah Kennedy. He had to remind himself that he was being entirely unfair on Ryan, who'd paid for his mistakes in full…and yet, he felt twitchy whenever he considered Cara's vulnerability. She seemed so happy – so trusting - with Ryan. And maybe… maybe Jack was just a little jealous…

Dr. Simone Tyler, forensic ecologist and serious coffee addict, was a breath of fresh air blowing through the Lyell. Even if she didn't stay for long, she served to remind Nikki and Jack of their isolation.

Nikki had been reluctant to replace Adam. She had no guaranteed funding for his post beyond September, even though Harry was still covering Thomas' professorship for the 2021-2022 academic year. In theory, Harry might be replaced by a permanent hire at any time, but the university didn't seem to be prioritizing recruitment. In view of that, there seemed little point in replacing Adam with a full- time junior pathologist, so Nikki carried on alone, calling upon temps and occasionally Harry whenever the workload threatened to get out of hand.

Privately, Jack felt that her university bosses were a little too laissez faire about the situation. In 'normal' times, they'd never have held on to someone with Harry's reputation for so long. Admittedly, Harry seemed happy enough to carry on with his strange situation. He'd settled into an expensive and minimalist apartment with fabulous views, and was continuing to deliver online lectures to his New York students alongside his current role.

Although Harry seemed as popular as ever with his little group of forensic pathology students, Jack noticed that the pathologist was quieter and not quite his usual self during the early autumn weeks. He could hardly blame him. Harry was being pulled in two directions. He was anxious to return to his life in New York and sort out the issues with his estranged wife, but US airspace was still closed to European travellers, so it wasn't clear exactly when that would happen. At the same time, he appeared to relish the security of the Lyell…and Nikki.

Jack, watching them working together one afternoon in early October, could see that Harry had grown deeply attached to her in a way that few others perhaps would understand. Jack felt that he did understand it, little though he wanted to. He recalled his early days at the Lyell and his speculations about the departed Harry Cunningham who had left such an indelible mark on Nikki. Over the years, that influence seemed to have waned, but it had never quite left her – Harry was probably one of the most important figures in her life, along with her beloved Leo, and he always would be, for better or for worse.

For some reason, Jack had always assumed – and perhaps feared - that if Harry ever walked back into her life, it would have been Nikki who showed her emotions openly. Instead, she seemed to treat Harry with the brisk kindness of an older sister. That October day, when Jack accidentally caught the pathologist's achingly soft expression as he gazed at Nikki's back, it was enough of a surprise to make him blink.

After the initial shock, Jack didn't feel particularly threatened. In the first place he couldn't believe that Harry's feelings were romantic in nature – not now. If he had fallen back in love with her (assuming he'd even been in love in the first place), he'd had plenty of opportunities to act during the fifteen months or so that he'd been living with her. The fact that he'd moved out of her house – his decision rather than hers – was hardly suggestive of any kind of latent passion. It was far more likely he loved her as one of his closest friends, and that Jack had misinterpreted that tender look.

And even if Harry's feelings were romantic, Jack was fairly confident that Nikki didn't return them. He was aware, in a rather hopeless way, that if Nikki harboured any feelings of that nature, they were aimed at him…but that didn't seem to help matters much. Judging by the troubled expression he occasionally caught on Nikki's face as she looked in his direction, she shared his secret dilemma. Neither of them had sterling records when it came to romance. What they did have was a strong friendship – he liked to think it was even stronger than that between Nikki and Harry - and maybe, like him, she was wondering whether it was worth risking.

Jennifer's son was over one year old now and already walking. Since his birth, Harry had been bombarding them with endless photographs and videos at a level of detail that only Adam had been really sympathetic with. Jack himself had little interest in babies and young children – he didn't mind them at a distance but that was about it, and he didn't feel particularly paternal. He was surprised by Nikki's lack of interest – although, as Clarissa pointed out, it was rather sexist of him to presume she'd like babies just because she happened to be female. He still found himself wondering from time to time whether Nikki regretted not becoming a mother when she was younger.

His speculations may have been prompted by the increasing amount of time he spent speculating whether Cara really was his. The more he saw of her, the more probable it seemed. Her gentleness, her instinctive empathy, the warmth in her eyes – they were all Aoife, but she shared his quirky sense of humour, and she was sharp-eyed and had a strong sense for the smallest detail. They enjoyed similar books and films, they liked going to football matches, he'd even taken her to a boxing night. None of this was remotely genetic, of course, but he just couldn't see Ryan in her at all.

And when he learned that Ryan had hidden a gun in his own bloody house, with absolutely no regard for their father's safety, Jack became even more convinced that he must be Cara's father. It seemed impossible for someone so lovely and perfect to have come from his disaster of a brother. It was with fresh determination that he dug out the paternity forms and submitted his evidence. He didn't even care if Ryan found out. So what if he discovered that his girlfriend had cheated with his own brother - it wasn't as if Ryan had ever been faithful to Aoife! Jack almost felt that he owed it to Cara to ensure that she had a father she could rely on.

Nikki would understand how he felt. Even with the underlying tension between them, she'd understood that he didn't entirely feel comfortable at home anymore. When she asked him out for a drink in her usual casual manner and then had agreed to join him for a 'date' at the boxing ring, it had cheered him immensely. She'd never attended a match before, had always refused to watch even back when he had still boxed competitively, so for her to show willing on this occasion seemed significant, even if he'd only suggested it because of Ben Coogan's connection to their current case.

He'd liked the way she'd leaned into him, clutching his wrist in tension as the fight progressed. Even in his distraction as he watched the drama unfolding afterwards, he'd warmed at her smile and at the perfectly natural way she said: "shall we go home then?" – as if 'home' would be the same location for them both. And when he'd got involved in the fight and laid into Kovic in an instinctive response to being punched, it was only Nikki's anguished shout that stopped his fists.

She was typically annoyed with him as she took him back to the Lyell to tend to the wound on his cheekbone…but there was a tone of fondness, almost admiration as she admonished him for 'auditioning for Rocky'.

A silence fell between them as she gently cleaned the cut. His breathing evened out; he closed his eyes, simply enjoying her closeness, even relishing the sting of the swab as her fingers steadied his cheek. It didn't escape him that she would once have simply chucked the first aid kit in his direction – and in fact he'd have probably insisted on sorting out his own wounds back then too. Now, it seemed entirely natural to let her do it.

"What's going on with you?" she asked quietly.

He opened his eyes, seeing nothing but compassion in hers. "Ryan… He brought a gun into the house."

She paused, shocked. "Did you inform his probation officer?"

As the shake of his head, she sighed gently. "I know… I know you feel indebted to Ryan for what he did, years ago…but at some point, that debt is paid."

He winced, deeply uncomfortable with the topic. What would she think of him if she knew about Cara? "At what point, Nikki? You don't know what I've done…"

It might have the moment to tell her, but he saw her eyes flicker towards his cheek and recognized the sudden awareness as she realized the wound on his cheek matched that found on the boxer's body…

And then his phone went…

When he saw Conor slumped on the floor, bruised and bloody and crying quietly, Jack didn't think it was possible to feel such hatred towards another person. Even as the old man shook his head and tried to excuse Ryan – "don't judge him, son, he didn't know what he was doing" – he felt the poison burning his veins. Again, it was Nikki's gentleness that broke through the rage. It was only because of Nikki that he was able to comfort his father and take him to hospital for treatment. It was for Nikki's sake alone that he returned to work the following day, that he confined himself to a couple of angry phone calls. Even when he found out that Ryan knew about the paternity tests, his anger continued to simmer. It wasn't good enough. Ryan wasn't good enough, and OK maybe – just maybe – Jack had screwed his brother's life up, but it wasn't bloody good enough. Nikki was right – she'd been right all along. There was something fundamentally rotten about his brother that couldn't be justified by circumstance. He had to let the guilt go.

He almost called the probation officer… almost. All that stayed his hand was the realization that Cara might be travelling to Ireland with Ryan. He felt as if his fear for her was justified.

Nikki - relaxing on his sofa once again, glass of red and pizza slice in hand, as if she belonged there – Nikki seemed to understand. She took the news about Cara's potential paternity in her stride. She didn't push him to do the right thing, and he loved her for it…even though, Nikki-like, she was sharp enough to see what he was trying to deny. He was jealous of Ryan. He did want Cara to be his daughter – so much so that it hurt. And Nikki seeing it didn't help – her words felt like a knife twisting in his gut.

"I'm just saying that – perhaps – strong feelings are clouding your judgement."

The simmering anger in him exploded. "Damn right strong feelings are clouding my judgement! This is my family!"

God, he hated the hurt in her eyes…the uncertain way she withdrew her gaze, as if she suddenly realized that she was overstepping as a colleague. As if she could ever overstep… He wanted to sink to his knees in front of her, he wanted to tell her that she wasn't just a colleague, not just a friend, but something far more complex and beautiful and terrifying. He wanted to bury his face in her lap, offer his entire pathetic life to her, kiss her hands, promise her anything…anything, just to wipe the pain and worry from that perfect face. He couldn't. Not now.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry…" All he could do was hold out his hand and pray that she would take it. And she did. Palm to palm, eyes connected, together again, in a way that transcended mere love… if only they had the courage to name it.

Her eyes softened almost immediately – of course she forgave him, she always did. Again, there was that unnamed tension, but this time mixed up with warmth and a sense of belonging. Now was not a time for potentially dangerous declarations – he felt, as she did, the peace and surety of their friendship. That could never be threatened, whatever happened now or in the future.

She relaxed back into the sofa, relinquishing his hand almost reluctantly as she smiled. "We don't do this enough these days. Wine, takeaway… We used to, didn't we? Remember those days? Before Thomas…"

She broke off, taking a gulp of her wine.

"Yeah, I remember." There had been the tensions of Mexico and her relationship with Matt, but they'd come through it. Whenever Matt was away, they'd fallen back into their regular pattern of lunches and takeaways in front of the TV.

He sighed. "It's hard to find the time these days. My dad… And you're so busy…"

"So are you," she pointed out, ruefully. "Did we appreciate them enough, do you think? I mean, obviously Clarissa… but I had no idea just how much Thomas had to do, and Leo before him. The paperwork and all the diplomacy… I'm terrible at it."

"You're not terrible!"

She winced. "But I'm not really good at it either. I hate being out of the lab. I quite like taking charge of our caseload, but -."

He nudged her. "There you go. I always said you wanted to be the boss."

She elbowed him back, laughing. "I don't – that's the point! The lab work – yes. But as for the rest of it - no wonder Leo used to get so stressed."

Jack smiled. "Thomas took it in his stride."

"He did. I forget sometimes, but he was a brilliant manager. I mean, he always supported me, even when I made life difficult for him. I can't forget how supportive, how kind he was after – after Mexico… He was so much more than just a boss. I…" she paused, her eyes glistening slightly. "You know how much I still think about Leo, but…I didn't know how much Thomas meant to me, until it was too late. And I was so horrible to him at first… Actually," she paused, frowning. "I suppose that's who I want for the Lyell."

"Another Thomas?"

"Yes, maybe… Or maybe even someone like Sam Ryan."

"You ever meet her?"

She shook her head. "I wish I had. Leo and Harry were always going on about her. She's kind-of a legend, isn't she?"

"I did once." He smiled in recollection. "Not to talk to, but she gave a lecture. I was just a lowly first year student, far too shy to approach her."

She smiled. "I wish I'd met you back then. I have visions of a cute, gangly, awkward teenager…"

He shook his head, grinning. "Not too far off, apart from the cute. But we'd never have spoken. I'd have been too much in awe of you in those days, let alone Professor Ryan."

"You mean, you're not now? I'm disappointed." She leaned into him – a brief return of the old affection - and then shrugged. "I suppose I'm looking for someone who'll deal with all the…stuff and let me focus on what I want to do. Interesting cases, facial reconstructions…" She smiled, wistfully. "It might be nice to write another paper sometime. I used to, you know - forensic anthropology."

He eyed her. "Are you saying that you won't be applying for the professorship – assuming they ever get around to recruiting? You know they'd probably give it to you like a shot - and you enjoyed the teaching, didn't you?"

She paused again. "No… No, I don't think I will."

There was a silence between them; eventually he broke it. "So, you don't want to be the boss after all."

He meant it jokingly, but the look she gave him was deeply serious. "No, Jack. I don't want to be your boss."

The double negative seemed very pointed. All at once, the familiar tension was back as her dark eyes held his. He sensed she was watching his reaction – perhaps seeking a clue in his body language to give her the courage she needed to say something else. He held her gaze, feeling his breath stutter. Was it his imagination, or did her eyes flicker very quickly to his lips and then back?

"Jack…" Her voice sounded croaky, and she swallowed, almost audibly in the silence, and tried again. "Um, Jack, there's something I've been meaning to mention -."

"Jack? You still up? I can't sleep – it's those tablets…"

The spell was broken. Nikki put down her empty glass and jumped to her feet as Conor entered the lounge, blinking in confusion at the sight of her. "Conor! It's good to see you again."

Jack suppressed a sigh of irritation as his father smiled uncertainly at Nikki. "I didn't know you were here, Dr. Alexander."

The old man's voice quavered. Jack rose to go to him, but Nikki was faster, striding across the room, her hand out. "Are you in pain?"

Conor looked tired and confused. "It's these blasted tablets. I don't know where I am with them these days. I think I'm supposed to take something to help me sleep…"

"Well, let's just take a look…" She led Conor in the direction of the kitchen, throwing Jack a quick smile over her shoulder.

He sighed again as he drained his glass. "To better times indeed."

"I sit and wait

Does an angel contemplate my fate"

So, here he is, sitting at a table in this awful karaoke bar - the kind of place he wouldn't normally be seen dead in, trying to work out how the hell she managed to drag him through the door. He must still be light-headed from that punch Ryan gave him at the coach station.

If Clarissa was here – God forbid! - she'd be hooting with laughter at his expression of discomfort. He's tried to plaster an artificial smile on his face to encourage Nikki. Just behind him, that bunch of drunken hens are giving it all they're worth, tunelessly belting out the verse - which is a shame in a way, because it's hard for him to make out Nikki's voice, even with the mic, and he doesn't think he's ever heard her sing before. It's not a bad effort, but the key is pitched a little low for her and she sounds wobbly.

Robbie bloody Williams? For crying out loud! Ok, so maybe he did dare her to get up there as a punishment for bringing him here, but of all the songs she could have chosen…

She smiles at him, maybe a little embarrassed but still determined.

"So when I'm lying in my bed,

Thoughts running through my head"

Simone appears suddenly at his shoulder. He stands up, giving her a smile of genuine pleasure – hopefully this means that she's accepted their offer. She's good – no Clarissa, of course, but he's still looking forward to working with her. He mimes fetching her a drink, but she waves him away and wanders towards the bar.

"I'm loving angels instead"

He sits again, refocuses on Nikki. Her fond expression reminds him of something she said earlier, in the office – something about making changes to both their lives… He hasn't had time to think about the implications of that; what she might possibly mean.

"And through it all he offers me protection

A lot of love and affection…"

The hens shout it out at the top of their lungs, but now he finds he can block them out. Did she just sing 'he'? Her voice is stronger now, more at ease with the higher pitch, and he's pretty sure he heard right.

Her eyes are on him alone, as if there's no one else in the room. The smile lights up her beautiful face…and suddenly he can't breathe. It couldn't be more obvious – Nikki is singing to him, and him only. It's the closest she's ever come to saying the words he's dreamt of hearing from her lips for years.

"When I come to call, he won't forsake me

I'm loving angels instead."

It's got to be the naffest, most woeful, karaoke cliché of all time but, all at once, it's also the most beautiful song in the world. And he won't hear anyone say otherwise.

She's walking towards him now, slightly flushed and giving a huff of relief, as the raucous crowd applaud her enthusiastically. As well they might.

"Hey, Nikki, that was amazing!" Simone is standing next to him, but he's hardly aware of her, his eyes still fixed on Nikki. She grins briefly in Simone's direction, but her eyes soften as they focus on him again…

Simone is still talking. "Oh sorry, Harry, didn't see you there. Wasn't she great?"

Startled, Jack looks over his shoulder. Harry is standing right behind him. His face is stark, his eyes glittering with some strange emotion as he stares at Nikki. For a moment, he looks almost distraught.

"Well? Come on, Harry!" Simone prompts him, seeming unaware of his tension. "You've got to have heard her sing before - right?"

Harry visibly shakes himself and looks away from Nikki; he focuses on Simone with a strained smile on his face. "Not sure I ever did, actually. Yes, it was very good…?"

His last words come out almost as a question, and his eyes flicker back in Nikki's direction. He seems entirely unaware of Jack for the moment.

He faces Nikki again; sees her glancing at Harry and then back at him, seeming suddenly flustered. She looks as if she's about to sit down, but then hesitates for a moment before picking up her glass of wine and draining it decisively.

"Right! Well, that's done. I think I've embarrassed myself - and tortured Jack – quite enough for one night, so why don't we find somewhere quieter for the next drink…unless you want to have a go, Simone?"

Simone grimaces at the cacophony coming from the next singer. "Not a chance!" She tosses back her own drink. "Coming, Jack?"

In a dream, he finds himself following Nikki and Harry towards the exit.

"Weird," he hears Simone mutter under her breath, but not quite as quietly as she evidently thinks. "Could've sworn she was aiming that at Jack…but now I'm not so sure…"