So sorry I have been away from this for so long. I have no excuse except life happens. I'll try to do better, I promise. DOn't know about the rest of you, but I sure do miss FW and Foyle in particular. But alas, life goes on I suppose. Hope you like it. There will be more, sometime.

Christopher slipped into the back of the courtroom to watch his new employer at work. He'd been at the job just over a fortnight and had been tasked with investigating the witnesses in his employer's current case. One of the witnesses was scheduled to testify that day and Mr. Vey wanted all the facts of the poor man's life. In reality, there was little to find. The man, one Gerry Thorne, had worked most of his life as a mechanic at the old garage down the road from old nick. Sam had actually taken the Wolseley to him a time or two. Thorne had been married but lost his wife and their daughter in one of the first bombings of the war. His son followed his mother in death at Dunkirk. And since then, the old man had been on his own. He'd retired the previous year and now spent his days repairing old toys, making them almost new for the children of his neighbors. There was little to note in the man's life, save for a rather handsome deposit into his bank account just a few days after the robbery and murder of a nearby shopkeeper. While Christopher had made all the facts he had collected known to Vey on the previous day, he'd also uncovered one more bit of information that morning, the source of the funds that had been deposited into the man's account.

Vey glanced up from his table in the courtroom and with a subtle nod, acknowledged that Foyle was there and needed to speak with him. Another few minutes and the barrister was able to take advantage of a break as a new witness was called from the hall outside. Christopher approached his employer and handed him a note. "You'll want this before you question Thorne," Christopher said before slipping back into anonymity at the back.

Vey looked down, read the note, and then glanced sharply at Foyle. He blinked and then his eyes widened as if seeking confirmation. Foyle gave him the slightest of nods and grimaced. He knew Vey's questioning depended on the assumption that Thorne had been paid to send the investigation in his client's direction. Christopher's note had just blown a rather large hole in that assumption. He could see that Vey was mentally scrambling to understand where to take the questioning of Mr. Thorne. But for the moment, his attention settled on the witness just entering the box.

Sam heard Christopher come through the front as she was finishing her tea. She heard the shuffling as he hung his hat and coat in the entry and turned to smile as he walked through to the lounge. Her smile was short lived, however, as she took in his expression. "What's happened?" she asked.

Christopher took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring, something she had rarely seen from him and only when he was seething with anger. "Vey happened."

"What?" Sam was dumbfounded. There was such disgust in his face and voice that it sent a chill through her.

"He… erm…. " Christopher rubbed his forehead tiredly with his right hand, gave his shoulders a bit of a shrug, and collapsed into his favorite chair. Another sigh seemed to give him what he needed to continue. "He'd made an assumption about a witness that was false. It seemed to hold water until I found new information this morning. Wwent to court to give him the bit of news and he …." Christopher paused, his eyes staring off into nothingness.

Sam left her chair and moved close to him, kneeling in front of him. "He what, Christopher? You have always been so thorough. How did this information just surface this morning? And what did Mr. Vey do?"

"He ignored it, at least for the questioning. I was thorough and I had told him yesterday that we still didn't have the information on the source of the funds. But he was so bloody sure that he knew the answer, he planned his whole strategy around it. The information I brought this morning should have changed his line of questioning but it didn't. And in the process, he nearly destroyed the witness when there was no reason to do so. The man has nothing left, Sam. He's lost his family and has little to his name, but he did have a good reputation and was well liked in his community. Now he won't be trusted and it is all because Stephen Vey needed to win his case."

"Wait, I don't understand…. What funds? What are we talking about?"

"Do remember the mechanic at the garage…. Thorne?"

"Yes, he repaired the car…. Oh, he was the witness?" she said, wide eyed.

"He was. Since he retired, he's spent his time and what little money he has to spare repairing old toys for the neighborhood children, as well as doing some odd jobs for the widows near him. He saw the defendant running from Smither's Shop and told the police. Naturally, he was questioned and was to be called as a witness. A few days later, a significant sum of money was deposited into his bank account. Vey assumed he'd been paid to point the finger at our client. The information I received this morning revealed the true source of the funds. Seems he has an American cousin who sent the funds to him, wired them to his account. Thorne is to use the funds to help those who are still struggling, lost their homes in the bombings or the soldiers who are struggling to find jobs. The cousin, also named Thorne, is apparently well off and wanted to help the neighborhood from where his parents had come. Seems the neighbors had made a collection to purchase tickets for them to sail to America once they were married. That was before the first war. Family has done well in America and this cousin wanted to repay the debt."

"Golly."

"Yes, golly. All very innocent and philanthropic. But Vey accused Thorne of taking a payment for false testimony and painted quite an ugly picture. Put the poor man in tears and once Vey was done with him, the poor soul left the courtroom in shame."

"Oh Christopher ... what can we do?"

"There isn't much we can do, Sam. Once the story gets out of Vey's accusations, the man's reputation will be in shreds. But I did one thing."

"What's that?"

"I resigned. Told Vey what he could do with his tactics. Said it in front of his assistant and the Prosecutor. Several people overheard, I'm sure. Not my usual tactic, but I felt he was deserving of at least that."

Sam bit her lower lip. "I'm glad you resigned. You're far too fine a man to be working for a…. a…. horrible man like that!"

A smile quirked at Foyle's lips. Sometimes, even after her years of driving for him from murder to murder and all the other things that had happened to her, there was such a sweet innocence to her that charmed him. "Wwon't be so glad when there's nothing in the larder," he replied with a teasing glint in his eye.

Not seeing his eyes, Sam looked aghast at him. But as she caught a glimpse, his eyes had a twinkle to them now and she recognized that he was teasing. "We'll make do, my darling man. And if it is a choice between making do and you working for a disreputable man like that, I'm fine with making do. You can keep us in fish and it isn't as if there is much in the shops anyway. Not as bad as during the war, but still not back to normal either. Although, I'm not sure any of us remember what normal was."

"Nnoo… s'pose not. Been a long time since we were last at peace. But slowly regaining ourselves, I think. Sstill worry about how I will support so many mouths to feed though, my love. "

"Oh Christopher, we'll be alright I'm sure. As long as we are together, we'll be fine. And another job might appear. After all, you are such a very clever man."

"Oh, don't know about that…. Although… Clever enough to marry you, so p'haps you are right. Still, so many men returning, younger men hunting for employment. Makes it more difficult for us older chaps."

Sam looked up at him coyly. "Don't you give me that older chaps…. Those younger men couldn't hold a candle to your shrewdness and when it comes to your other talents…" She fingered one of the buttons on his waistcoat as she let her voice fade.

"Other talents, love?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "Isn't too difficult to put those talents on display with such inspiration as you provide."

"Hmmm, perhaps…. "She looked up as a faint smile tugged at her mouth. "But how many are so talented that they can put their women in the pudding club twice in one go?"

Sam was rewarded with a chuckle from her man. "Samantha, you have the most…." He chuckled again. "Come here, love. Come warm my lap."

Smirking as she settled into his lap, Sam quipped, "Isn't that what got me into trouble in the first place?"

"Mmmmm, well worth the effort," Christopher mumbled as he began an assault on her neck.

The following weekend, Andrew landed on their doorstep. Christopher was at the river when his son arrived unannounced. Sam greeted him warmly and then chided him for not calling ahead. "I could have made your room for you," she told him. "I suppose now you can jolly well do it yourself."

Andrew, much more comfortable now in his own skin than he'd been for several years, merely laughed. "Oh come on, Sam; really?" Then looking around the sitting room he grinned. "Say, I like what you've done with the place."

"Haven't done much really," Sam replied. "I wanted fresh paint, actually new paper but your father didn't go for that. Hoped for new drapes and upholstery too but seems those items are still in short supply."

"Yes, but you've rearranged a bit." Then noticing the picture on the mantle, he walked over to look more closely. "This is marvelous, Sam. You and Dad look so very happy. Can't remember seeing such a large smile on his face since Mom…." He turned to look at her shamefully. "Sorry…"

"It's alright, Andrew. I know your father was very happy with your mother. And I'm glad for it. It would be foolish for me to resent something that happened long before we knew one another. Besides, I think his unhappiness after having known such fulfilment with her is what opened him to the idea of a life with me. "

"So you think he proposed to you because he missed her?" Andrew seemed aghast.

"No, not at all. But …. Well, of course he missed her, still does at times, I think. But what I meant is that he missed that contentment and…. warmth in his life. And well, I think it just snuck up on him, the feelings he developed for me. And once he realized what he felt, feels, he couldn't deny himself any longer. "

Andrew gave his head a shake and blinked at her. "Gosh Sam, you've given it a lot of thought."

"Had to be certain of his motives in wanting to marry me, Andrew. Pity isn't a very good foundation for a marriage."

"No, I suppose not. But things are going well? Dad wrote that you're expecting…"

"I am. Rather surprised at first and then…. Well, when we found out that I'm carrying twins…"

"Twins?" Andrew looked knocked for six.

"Yes, I'm not sure which of us was more shocked at the news. But I think I'm coming to terms with it. Not so sure about your father though."

"Oh?"

"He's worried about supporting us… all. "

"Should've thought of that before he….'erm… Right." His ears turned red as Andrew realized how close he'd come to stepping over the line. "Sorry."

"It's fine. And anyway, as I told him, as long as we are together it will be fine."

Andrew couldn't contain a smile in the face of her optimism. Then his head tilted, a different sort of grin working at the corner of his mouth. "Still, I shan't miss the opportunity to tease him a bit. He was awfully worried about keeping up with you, you know."

"Oh, he's kept up alright," she said as she patted her tummy, a blush creeping into her cheeks as she realized what she'd just said. Decided a change of subject was in order, she asked how long he would be staying.

"Just the weekend. I'll catch the late train back tomorrow. I just felt the need for some fresh sea air and caring faces. London is so …. I dunno, anonymous at times. And bleak. "

Sam was going to ask what that was about when the door opened and Christopher stepped through. He called out from the entry. "Fish were happy to cooperate with filling the larder today," he said as it registered with him that Sam was not alone. "Andrew!" he smiled broadly. "Good to see you son. Home for long?"."

Andrew grinned and stepped across the room to hug his father. "Only tonight, Dad. Have to go back tomorrow afternoon. But I was missing home, so here I am."

"Wull then, good thing the fish were so obliging then. Let me just get things put away and we'll have a drink," Christopher grinned as he held up his catch. As he disappeared to the kitchen, Andrew turned to Sam. "My god Sam, I haven't seen him that happy in years, forever it seems. I'd say it's all down to you."

"We make each other happy, Andrew. Isn't just one sided. I can't imagine my life unfolding in any other way."

Just then, Christopher's head popped around the corner of the door frame. "Want Andrew and I to pop 'round to the shops, love? Might need something to go with the fish."

"No darling, I have potatoes in the larder and Mrs. Mallow brought some beans from their garden."

"Right then. I'll just run up and change," the older Foyle said as he disappeared again.

Sam turned to Andrew. "Mrs. Mallow brought the beans to thank your father for helping her last week with her shed. Seemed her youngest boy managed to knock a corner out of it somehow and your father mended it for her."

"Those Mallow boys are always into some mischief," Andrew chuckled as he sat in his favorite chair, the one that Sam had claimed as her own in recent months. "So, tell me what else is happening in Hastings. You'd think that London would be so much more exciting but somehow I find the goings on in Hastings much more interesting."

Settling onto the divan, Sam began to fill him in on all the local gossip.