I've finally pulled together the skeleton of this, fic and it'll be 30 chapters all up (unless any drastic plot changes present themselves, which I doubt) so we're nearly there! (Took me long enough…this fic has been over 2 years in the making, and about 6 years if you count the version in its infancy that sat on my hard drive for a long time).

Some pretty major developments in this one. It's also another one where sections of it are bowderlised to avoid the M rating (mainly just the last section), so hopefully it still flows.


25

The fulfilment of Joey Boswell

'Joey?'

Joey cursed, his efforts to slip upstairs unnoticed thwarted. His Mam was sitting at the kitchen table, beckoning to him in a way which signalled he wouldn't get out of this conversation – in spite of his attempts to keep it at bay for as long as possible.

Since he'd admitted to Jack he really was seeing Martina, his brother had been relentlessly making comments every time he'd been round – what's yer girlfriend think thisand tryin' to impress your missus that, finding a way to sneak innuendos into every conversation and making pointed remarks about special favours down the DSS until his Mam had cottoned on and begun to question him.

Unwilling to put himself in the spotlight, Joey had dodged his Mam's interrogation, giving her no more than a non-committal yeah, and then disappearing off to work before she could quiz him any further. And he'd been doing his best to avoid her since.

Now, though, he'd been spotted, he had no outside plans to escape to, and his mother was fixing him with a look that signified he wasn't going to get out of this conversation.

'It'd be nice if you'd stop darting about like a retarded tree frog, Joey.' His Mam pulled out the chair beside her. 'You've been rushing about for the past couple of days – every time we have a chance to sit down you spring up like a jack-in-the-box! And don't think I don't know why.'

Defeated, Joey slumped down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he shifted in his chair.

'So,' Nellie squared her shoulders, 'how long did you think you were going to get away with sneaking around, hoping you could get out of talking to anyone?'

'All right, Mam. All right. I take the point.'

'Now, then,' Nellie folded her hands imperiously, 'instead of muttering at me and speeding off, let's have a straight answer. You and the DSS lady – yes or no?'

Joey sighed. 'Yes.'

'And am I to take it that this thing between you is serious?'

'Fairly serious, yes.'

'And why did you feel the need to keep it from us?'

Joey's irritation bubbled up. 'Well, why d'you think? I mean, I just wanted to take it easy for a while, that's all – what with me track record and all! Roxy was in and out of me life for nearly ten years – and after it ended the way it did, I didn't wanna put pressure on anything – and if I mentioned it earlier, I would've had our Billy's gob spilling it all over the place and our Adrian going to pieces about it, and…'

He stopped short before he could remark on Nellie's own penchant to scare romantic partners away. After all, she'd been doing her utmost to give him his space and independence, and he to reassure her he didn't think as ill of her as his tirade before he'd eloped had implied.

'I wasn't tryin' to keep it from you. Honestly, Mam. I just…didn't know how to bring it up.'

'You know something, son,' Nellie said softly, squeezing his hand in hers, 'our Jack said something to me a little while ago. He may be with that geriatric tart – and our Billy might be with a madam who's too like him to ever be good for him, and our Aveline might be with a Protestant vicar – but all of them have their people – all except you.'

Joey nodded, unsure where she was going with this.

'I wanted to hold onto you – it was selfish of me, Joey. I wanted to have you with me forever and for nothing to ever change. I hoped to God you'd never get down the aisle with that Roxy – but when she left you at the altar and left a great big hole in your heart… I prayed I could take every one of those hopes back. There's nothing more harmful to the soul than seeing one of your children in sorrow. And from that day onwards, I started praying you'd find yourself a person instead. The person you need.'

She laughed ruefully.

'When you said you wanted to step back and have a bit more independence – I thought, well, we'll never survive! But look at us…we're managing. Aren't we?'

Joey didn't know what to say without putting across an inadvertent I told you so vibe, so he simply nodded.

'And it's about time you got out there and found someone. Built a future for yourself. But – oh, Joey.'

'Oh, Joey what?'

'Don't let yourself fall for another Roxy. You know, half the reason I have trouble with all your special people is seeing them, when they come in, seeing how they act around whichever one of you it is, and knowing exactly how they're going to hurt you in the future. I saw it in Miss Julie from Number Forty-One before Billy even got her through the front door. I saw it in that Roxy the first time she sat on our sofa looking supercilious and screwing up her face. I see it in that Leonora of Jack's – he'll be competing with her late husband as long as he draws breath. I don't want to see you choosing another one who's going to cause pain, Joey. And she's already got a leg-up, having all your details in that DSS file of hers…'

Joey hesitated. He'd have preferred to keep details of his relationship with Martina to a minimum, but perhaps it was about time he set the record straight, let his mam know exactly the sort of woman he was seeing.

'Mam, I wouldn't worry about her causin' pain…she's the only woman who's ever really done anything to…well, to help ease me pain. To help take it away.'

'How d'you mean?'

He swallowed, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. 'Look…how d'you think I came back here from Scotland? I mean – not how I physically got back here – I mean…what made me do it.'

'You finally saw sense, didn't you?'

She couldn't quite see where he was going with this.

'Yeah, and you know why that was? Because while I was lyin' on the floor in an 'otel room brooding, she took herself up there, forced her way in and snapped me out of it.'

Nellie blinked, unsure of what she was hearing.

'She was there?'

'Yes,' Joey said calmly.

'With you? At Gretna Green?'

'Well…yeah.'

'She went up there…all the way up there…' he could see the gears in his Mam's head working double time, trying to make sense of the picture, trying to accept it, 'to help you?'

'Well, not exactly… but to get me back into the real world, anyway.'

Nellie blinked again. 'Why?'

'She must've cared, mustn't she? I don't know exactly why it bugged her enough to do that. But look, if it hadn't been for her, I don't think I'd have come back in one piece. And I don't think I'd have made it through these past few months the way I have, either. She helped me put me life back on track.'

His Mam pondered this for a while, alighting on a new stray thought in her head.

'You've been seeing her all this time – all those comments Jack made were true?! Well, you kept that very close to your chest, Joey!'

Joey brushed off the admonition. 'I haven't been seein' her all this time – not like that, anyway. But when I needed someone, she was there and…you can't look at someone the same after that. And if you wanna talk the person I need… a person who can do what she's done for me has to qualify, doesn't she?'

Nellie was thoughtful.

'I suppose I have her to thank, then,' she said, squeezing his hand. 'I don't like to think of my Joey lying on the floor in Scotland, in a dark place in his head. And if she could bring you away from that, I suppose she might deserve you in some way.'

Joey grinned, trying to inject a bit of humour. 'Hit the jackpot, hasn't she?'

'Will you bring her round, Joey?'

That one startled him. In hindsight, he should have seen it coming, though. It was very nearly always the first question off his Mam's tongue when one of them coupled up. He couldn't see it going well with Martina, though, and he pondered briefly which of the two women he'd rather kill him – his Mam, if he didn't bring her round, or Martina if he did.

'I'll, er…' Joey ran a hand through his hair. 'I'll bring it up with her, Mam. I'll bring it up.'

'When? When will you bring it up with her?' It was clear Nellie wasn't letting this one go. 'If this is your person we're talking about, Joey, and if this is a person you clearly put on a pedestal enough to let her help you, when you wouldn't so much as answer a telephone call from the rest of us, I think it's about time she met the family!'

'Er…' Joey chewed on his lip until it started to tingle. His Mam's stare didn't ease, and he felt beads of sweat start to form at his hairline. It hadn't helped that she'd managed to ladle in a dose of guilt about ignoring his family in Scotland either – she knew how to lay it on thick when she had a desired outcome.

'All right,' he conceded. 'Tonight. I'll bring it up with her tonight…when I see 'er. And we'll…we'll work out a time.'

If Martina didn't murder him, that was.


Joey put it off for as long as possible. This wasn't going to go well; he could feel anxiety ball into a lump in his chest and move up into his throat.

She was sitting on her sofa when he ventured round to her flat, embroidering a pattern on what looked to be a tea towel, and when she stood up to greet him Joey immediately guided her back into a seated position.

'Er – you might wanna sit down when I break this to yer, sweetheart.'

Martina's lips pursed.

'When you break what to me?'

'Well, thing is…'

'Er – no flowery language, Shakespearean dialogue or purple prose, Mister Boswell,' her DSS-lady persona was in full sail, her face carved into her specialty Social Security glare. 'Spit it out. What have you been up to?'

In spite of the tense moment, Joey had to hold back a laugh. Ironically, there were several things that he was up to – not least laundering money through his organic business – and yet they weren't what he was afraid to discuss.

'Not…up to, exactly…' Joey ran a nervous hand through his hair. 'I've just been…thinking, that's all.'

'Oh, yeah?'

'Well, look…Jesus, will you stop lookin' at me like that? It's nothing dodgy, all right?'

She was burning holes through him with her eyes, and Joey realised if he ever wanted to get somewhere with this conversation he'd need to get her to drop her suspicion.

'I just wanted you to meet me family, that's all – not everything's got to link back to summat unsavoury, has it?'

'Meet your family,' Martina parroted, her voice unfathomable.

'Well, not technically, given you've already met, but I mean…'

'You mean, come to the Palace of Kelsall Street and be formally introduced?'

'Well, yeah.' He shuffled his feet, bit his lip, fiddled with his jewellery, looked anywhere but here as he tried to work out how to proceed.

'That's what you had to sit me down for when you broke it to me.' She seemed remarkably unruffled by this – and oddly enough, relieved.

'Thing is, I just thought,' Joey was aware he was waffling, 'doin' things properly, you know, meetin' the fam-i-ly…normal thing to be doin' isn't it…and I know it's only been a few weeks, sweetheart, but…if you count back to all that time we spent, it's been seven months or thereabouts, hasn't it, and…'

Martina cocked an eyebrow, evidently amused by his blithering.

'Well, er…' he dropped his hands to his sides, 'what d'you think?'

Joey bit his lip, bracing himself for a disapproving remark.

'Yeah. Okay.' She shrugged nonchalantly and went back to her sewing.

Joey blinked once, then twice; shook his head.

'I'm sorry, sweetheart – what did you just say?'

Martina raised her head, confusion writ large on her face.

'I said…. yeah, and…okay….'

'I thought you did,' Joey couldn't get his head around it. 'You mean…you'll do it?'

She shrugged again. 'Why not? It's been long enough; you said so yourself.'

Joey was blindsided by her acquiescence. He knew the drill when it came to introducing special people – arguments and more arguments. In Martina's case, he'd expected ferocious resistance; the only reason he could think of for her putting up no fight was that she had some Social Security sleuthing she wanted to do.

'All right,' he demanded, 'what's the catch?'

Martina looked at him as if he'd grown two heads.

'Does there have to be one?'

'Come off it. No-one ever wants to be around the family. It's like getting blood from a stone to get any of our people to come round. It takes weeks of rows, a tense meeting and then more weeks of rows afterwards about how they can't stand it… who d'you think's on the fiddle that you're trying to catch out? Is it our Jack? Is that why you wanna come round?'

'Joey, before you started leapin' to conclusions,' Martina sounded cross now, 'and jumpin' down me throat because I agreed to something you asked me to do, why didn't you just tell me that's what you were worried about?'

Joey opened his gob, but found it a bit stuck for words.

'I think, Mister Boswell,' she patted the sofa beside her and he sat, aware he was in for some sort of lecture or ticking off, 'and I'm bein' lenient with you on this because I know what you went through – although you deserve a clout round the ear….'

Joey smiled sheepishly.

'I think,' she repeated sternly, 'Roxy gave you an ultimatum between her and your family – and you're terrified it'll happen again. So instead of discussing this with me like a reasonable person, you've let yer gob take the lead without consulting yer brain.'

And there she went again, hitting the nail on the head. He was still slightly in trouble, but Joey pulled her close anyway, putting into his embrace what he couldn't translate into proper words.

'Have I ever told you what a wonderfully perceptive woman you are?'

'Have I ever told you I'm not a fan of empty flattery?' the warning note in her tone met its mark; Joey pulled back, tried to grit his teeth and get through the uncomfortable moment, come out with it straight.

'It wasn't just her, though, that's the thing. It's everyone. All of us. No matter who we brought round – our Billy with Julie, our Jack with Leonora…they saw how close we were and…it put them off. They all resented that. There's not a single one of our people that gets on with our fam-i-ly…' he paused, reconsidered. Oswald, perhaps, he needed to discount from that list. He was becoming overly fond of them, still spending every Friday round the Boswell table, having embedded himself into their tapestry. Irenee, too, was warming nowadays, accompanying Adrian every so often. The others, though – forget it.

'What I'm sayin' is, once that happens, it ruins everything.'

'And in your mind, it always happens.'

'What d'you mean, in my mind?'

'Let's put aside the fact that you clearly think all non-Boswells are alike. How many times has this happened to you? Not to your Billy or your Jack – to you.'

Joey coloured, realising where she was headed with this.

'Let's think,' he tried to find a loophole anyway, counting on his fingers. Around the time his dad left…that poison pen letter…Rome…that time at the train station, call me when they're all dead, Joey…when Billy had run into the street sobbing about Francesca and Roxy had got out the car and stormed off down the road…

'I know what you're trying to do,' Martina wrested all his fingers down, fixing him with her sternest glare. 'And you know full well that's not my point. How many different people, Joey?'

She was too good at this game.

'One,' he admitted.

'Which brings me back to my original point. This is about what happened with Roxy.'

There was no point arguing. A life with Martina, Joey was beginning to realise, meant never winning any argument ever again. She was far, far too perceptive.

'You're not wrong. And maybe it's me; I was just expectin'…well, I know I've come a long way, but that's still a bit of a sore spot. And I know it's not the same, but… I know you and us – and me brothers are always on about how frosty you are…and you're always on about them and what ratbags they are…it seemed a recipe for disaster.'

'And you assume I'm incapable of separating on-duty and off-duty? After I've been doin' that with you as me friend and now me lover for the better part of seven months?'

'You mean it…honest and truthfully…doesn't bother yer? Coming face-to-face with all that unity stuff?'

Martina smiled; it was warm and lovely and everything Joey had never even dreamed she could give him in this moment.

'Honestly,' she said softly, stroking his arm, 'and truthfully. I've always known that about you, you see. It comes as no surprise. It comes of years from sittin' opposite you at my pathetic counter, listening to tear-jerking stories about the struggles of your family. I said to myself, Martina, if you want to get involved with Joey Boswell, you need to remember he comes with a matching set of little Boswells and a Grandad with every imaginary ailment known to man. They cling together in all their awe-inspiring unity, I told meself, and at some point, you'll have to witness that in all its sickening glory. So watch it if you wanna start messin' around with 'im.'

Joey opened his mouth, but Martina's finger was already over it. Her eyes were sparkling mischievously.

'And I said to myself – I said if Joey Boswell comes with a little Boswell family attached at the hip…then I can handle that. I won't get culture shock, you see. I've been forewarned enough times. I've met most of your lot at one time or the other…all I'm yet to see is all of them in one place.'

And then her lips had replaced her finger, and Joey kissed her back ferociously, pouring as much gratitude into it as possible.

'So why not, eh?'

'Have I ever told you…' Joey murmured against her mouth.

Martina pulled back to glare ferociously. 'If this is gonna be empty flattery, I don't wanna hear it. Now, then.'

She sat back on the sofa, straightening the collar of his shirt. 'When are you taking me there, then?'


In spite of her nonchalance in front of Joey, Martina would have been lying if she'd said she hadn't harboured some nerves, coming along to Kelsall Street with him. She knew all the rest of the Boswells, it was true, but having to shift the context of their acquaintance from wielding her authority over them to playing the polite girlfriend in search of a seal of approval was going to take some adjusting.

The second she'd actually set foot in the house, though, all her nerves – and any concerns about even bothering to be on her best behaviour – had vanished into thin air.

The Boswells were no different, really, to how they were behind the counter, their personalities adapted to a home setting but otherwise exactly as she'd observed them in the Social Security – and so it was the easiest thing in the world to put her politest self aside and simply act as she would on any other occasion.

The whole bloody lot of them seemed to have turned up for dinner, even the little Boswells who'd long since flown the nest – and nearly the first thing that came out of Jack Boswell's gob was a smug told you so, accompanied by a lascivious grin. And so, given he wasn't bothering with the niceties, Martina didn't either.

'Er – the most recent forms I've got from you say you're married to Anne Boleyn, who's in desperate need of medical treatment for her inability to walk.' She nodded at Leonora, who seemed to be holding in a smirk. 'Henry the Eighth can't pay for that one on 'is own?'

Leonora had laughed, and Jack had joined in, clearly unwilling to let a joke go by at his expense unless he was seemingly in on it.

Aveline's Oswald was as charming as the day he'd come to the DSS to drag Aveline out (Aveline herself was too preoccupied with her hair to speak to her much, but no matter), and to Martina's delight, they'd brought their young daughters along, and she'd had a chance to renew her acquaintance with Ursula.

'Eh,' Billy had said, coming up behind her as she'd gone into the parlour briefly, Ursula being intent on showing her a stone she'd found, 'you know what she's called, right?'

'I 'ave been told, yeah,' she replied.

'Ursula!' Billy had burst out, cackling loudly, and though it wasn't the first time Martina had heard the name, his laughter over it was contagious, and she'd been unable to suppress a laugh of her own.

'You see! I knew it wasn't just me who found it funny!' Billy crowed, guffawing even louder, and Martina had felt a sudden affinity with him.

She'd always had a soft spot for Billy where the Boswells were concerned – he was a strangely likeable mix of tactlessness, naivety and a misplaced, simple kindness. He'd made a few haphazard attempts at friendliness, attempting to pull out her chair for her (and tipping it over in the process), offering her just about everything in the fridge in spite of there already being a meal on the table, and giving unsolicited advice based on his own experiences with relationships that Martina, though she knew he meant well, thought it best to pretend she hadn't heard.

Martina knew Connie Alsop quite well – another ratbag she tried to forget when the work day was over – and she hadn't been surprised to hear on the DSS grapevine that she and Billy Boswell were going out (they were, after all, more or less cut from the same cloth). From what Joey had told her, and what she'd observed of them in public, she'd been prepared for bawdy obnoxiousness, and she wasn't disappointed. The two of them were chaotic, their most immature traits amplified by one another's influence, the strangest pair of lovebirds you ever saw, and yet somehow all the more suited for it. They were, if you could get past the fact that they clearly drove the rest of the family doolally, quite entertaining to watch.

Nellie Boswell was the only one who was visibly making an effort to be on her best behaviour – Martina could see a slightly more histrionic personality desperate to get out from beneath the surface, but Joey's Mam was clearly trying to make nice with her, which surprised the DSS lady no end. She didn't know what glowing praises Joey had apparently been singing where she was concerned, but they had apparently had some effect on his mother, and she caught the Boswell matriarch surreptitiously studying her once in a while, regarding her with what appeared to be two parts surprise, one part respect.

It was Adrian, however, who surprised her the most. Apart from managing to get through the entire evening without quaking in fear, and speaking to her quite calmly and confidently, when he'd got out his guitar to torment everyone with his latest song, a sharp look from his Irenee (who was unexpectedly normal for someone who'd willingly married the temperamental artiste of the Boswell family) and he'd meekly put it away.

Adrian and Irenee had been the last to leave, walking with Joey and Martina as they headed to their respective cars.

'Cheers for comin', Adrian,' Joey clasped his hand. He was glowing in a way Martina hadn't seen before, made up beyond belief at having a successful family visit for once. 'It, er…it means a lot.'

'It's good to see you happy,' Adrian had said quietly, the words clearly intended for his brother's ears and not for hers. 'It's like I said – it comes to you in unexpected places, doesn't it?'

Martina tactfully pretended not to be listening, waiting until Adrian turned to her to shake her hand to acknowledge him.

'Good thing I gave you his number after all, wasn't it?'

He gave Martina the cockiest smile-and-wink she'd ever seen him manage in front of her. Perhaps it was the ego boost of being right, or the even more glorious ego stroke of having had his memoirs published, but his usual terrorised rabbit demeanour had gone missing.

Martina felt her jaw drop, her mouth frozen in a half-amused, half-disbelieving smile.

'You've gone very Bolshy, haven't yer? Don't forget, I do still 'andle your giro,' she raised her eyebrows, but her glare didn't have the desired effect. A bit of his usual abject terror glimmered across his face, although it was a watery echo of what she usually saw.

'Well…you are family now, aren't you? In a way.' That nervously facetious smile was back. 'You have to get used to us now.'

Martina was still reeling from his bravery (and was that a glimmer of genuine friendliness?) as they parted.

'Watch it, love,' Irenee said as they kissed goodbye. 'You'll probably get a welcoming poem now. Better bring cotton wool to stuff in your ears next time you come.'


Joey couldn't believe it. It defied all belief.

He'd been expecting chaos, bringing Martina round. He'd expected hostility (or at the very least, a very poor attempt at feigned civility, followed by his siblings and mam complaining and Martina hissing to him not to put her through something like that ever again). He'd expected to be in everybody's bad books.

The last thing he'd been expecting was for the evening to go, well…well.

And yet here they were, back in her flat, having come out the other side of it in a cheerful mood, with not even a glimmer of an argument having arisen.

He should have realised by now that Martina was anything but predictable. Ever since she'd turned up at his hotel in Gretna Green, she'd been defying his expectations, confounding him at every turn in the best possible ways.

And as for his family, Joey had been touched by just how much effort they'd gone to. Perhaps it was the horrific turn of events that had befallen him at the end of last year, or his disappearance, or his insistence that he wanted his own life that had triggered this response, but he'd seen something in all of them – they wanted to see him happy. And they were doing their utmost to let him hold onto whatever shred of happiness he'd found, rallying round to make his new girlfriend feel as welcome as possible, even if they had every reason, in other contexts, to be wary of her.

Joey felt almost overcome with it, swept away by it – with love and gratitude for his family, with admiration for Martina, with joy that for once, something in his life seemed to be going right.

His conversation with Adrian a couple of weeks ago came back to him. He'd dismissed his brother's words at first, then cautiously come back to them, playing with the possibility that there might be something in them that he could explore – properly consider – in time.

Now, though. Now he'd seen how things could be, how their whole future could be laid out, their relationship and his love for his family intertwining without fraying, Joey was getting close to being sure. And Adrian's parting reminder – it comes to you in unexpected places, doesn't it? – had hit home. He would never have expected Martina of all people to be the missing piece in his life and heart – but he couldn't have dreamt up a better reality than this.

The evening had gone so well, cementing the stray thoughts in his mind, making them solid – and he wanted to relay them to her.

Martina had gone into her bedroom to hang up her coat, and Joey followed her in, determined to say something now, before he lost his nerve.

He took hold of her by her shoulders, clearing his throat, wondering why his tongue had suddenly become dry bordering on crispy at the prospect of spitting it out.

'I don't want you to make a big thing of this, sweetheart,' Joey began nervously, 'and I don't want to alarm you and I don't want to make you angry and…. and I don't expect you to say anything, so don't think you're obliged to just because I said this…'

Martina was looking up with a mixture of confusion and anticipation in her eyes, baffling Joey further as to her reaction.

Oh well. He had to do it. Needed to. He pressed on regardless.

'But…I…love you.'

Something came over her, though Joey could see she was trying to keep it together. God, he hoped this was welcome news.

'Oh, yeah?' She tried to arrange her face into its usual quizzical position, eyebrow raised, mouth quirking, but she couldn't quite pull it off.

'Yeah,' Joey was beginning to worry now. Her brow was crinkled with some sort of apprehension, a concern he hadn't expected to see. Perhaps it was a bit of leftover ego talking, but Joey had hoped – no, he'd been sure this would be welcome news. His heart twisted. After everything he'd been through with Roxy, his ability to read women was well off-centre, every move he made tinged with fear of being rejected – but perhaps that was with good reason. Perhaps he'd put his foot in it, saying that, perhaps she didn't love him, perhaps it was just too bloody soon…the paranoia bells into his brain were going into overdrive.

'You know, the last time someone told me they loved me,' Martina was still trying to make light of the situation, 'they turned up with a bunch of stolen flowers and it lasted about two more weeks before they crashed a stolen car and got sent to gaol. You'd better improve on that, Mister Boswell.'

The tease would normally have been welcome – it was one of the things he loved about her, after all, but not about this. Not during this conversation.

'And you?' He hadn't intended to push in this way, but it was eating at his core, gnawing him from the inside out, not knowing what she made of his admission. 'I mean, I don't expect…I just said, didn't I…never mind, sweetheart, I…'

'Yeah,' her eyes flicked away from his; there was a shyness there, a reticence he hadn't seen in her before. 'Yeah, I do, yeah. Yeah.'

Relief gusted out of Joey in a breath he didn't know he was holding.

'That it?'

'Did you expect an impassioned speech?'

'No, sweetheart, of course not,' Joey pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. 'I wouldn't expect you to go against the very fabric of your nature, now, would I?'

Something was still about her, though. She couldn't meet his eye.

'Martina?' He sat down on the foot of the bed, guiding her into a seated position beside him. 'What's wrong, sweetheart?'

'I promised meself I'd tell you something,' Martina sighed, looking away from him. 'When the time was right – but now it is, I don't know if I've got the nerve.'

Joey was flummoxed.

'If you've had it with me…'

'No, no,' Martina hastened to put a reassuring hand on his chest. 'Nothing like that.'

'What, then?'

'You won't be able to look at me the same. Things have been going so well – it might spoil everything.'

'Ah. Skeleton in your closet, is it?' Joey tried to be flippant, but now she was clearly building up to something, he was maddened by the curiosity of it. Whatever it was, it had her worried.

'Well, sort of.' She was shifting awkwardly beside him.

'Can't be worse than my past, sunshine. And you know about that baggage, don't yer? Pathetic sod who was left at the altar…'

'Oh, nothing like that.' She sighed sharply again, looking him squarely in the face, as though daring herself to. 'D'you remember when Shifty first jacked me in? Fed me a lie about yer Grandad having an accident?'

'Y-eah…' Joey replied, unsure where she was going with this.

'You came down to claim later that day and I was in a state…'

Joey remembered. He recalled vaguely suicidal comments being thrown about – perhaps overdramatically, given he knew now she wasn't that way inclined, but concerning all the same. She'd been cut up even beyond what he'd expected and he'd hastened to console her.

'And I asked you if you'd ever been in love.'

'Yeah, I remember that,' he stroked her hand. 'And I understood how you felt.'

It had bonded them slightly at the time, in spite of their enmity, their mutual pain and loss allowing a small truce to pass between them. It had been a tender moment, even though they had been nothing to each other at the time, other than hindrances and a source of irritation. The first sign, perhaps, Joey mused, that they could, at some point in the future, get on as they did now.

'No, love. You didn't.'

Joey blinked. 'Eh?'

'You didn't understand what I meant. Not that I would've told you anyway.'

'I'm a bit lost here, sweetheart – d'you mind catching me up to speed?'

'When I asked you that…'she winced, 'I wasn't talkin' about Shifty.'

Joey's eyes widened as the realisation dawned on him, all the confusion and concern washed away in an instant, a strange, unexpected warmth flooding through his body in its place.

She wasn't revealing something terrible. Quite possibly the reverse.

'You mean –'

'I wanted to,' Martina swallowed. 'I wanted to love Shifty. I mean…' she shrugged, an attempt to keep things nonchalant both of them knew wouldn't work; they were too deeply into this intense conversation now; revelations had been made that could not be rescinded.

'I suppose I did…sort of. To give him 'is due…he noticed me, and…rotten as he was…I do think he loved me in his own way. And I wanted so much for that to work. To get it right with someone who did notice, and stop meself being daft all the time, and…'

She was really struggling to let the words loose, and Joey hastened to give her shoulder a reassuring rub. She'd knocked him for six, and yet, as he was reeling trying to adjust to the revelation, puzzle pieces were slowly floating into place, adding a layer of clarity to everything that had gone on, not just over the past year, but even before that.

'It wasn't 'im that I'd hoped…I mean…'

She was really stuttering now; Joey had never seen her this apprehensive around him. Even in the midst of the Scotland debacle, when she'd given him the fright of his life turning up at his hotel room, when she'd known she was an unwanted guest, in the middle of another country with his volatile moods to keep her company, she'd been more self-assured than this. She'd been confident enough, in fact, to try and harangue him into coming back to England. And yet now she was small, shy, vulnerable.

'I'd hoped…I'd hoped, since…since I can't remember when. Since you pranced in in all your gear and started doing my head in...'

Joey smiled encouragingly, aware she wouldn't get it out without some help.

'You mean all this time…'

'Yeah,' Martina exhaled heavily, looking at the floor. 'I, er…I've… I've always loved you.'

He'd started to suspect that was what she was building up to, but hearing the words out loud was magic beyond anything he'd experienced before. An out-breath gusted out of his lungs; he blinked, trying to process what he'd heard in wonder.

She pulled away, putting her face in her hands. 'God, it's tragic, isn't it?'

'Eh – eh –' Joey pulled her hands away, holding them in his. 'No hidin' yourself now – you can't deliver life-changing news and then disappear. Sweetheart – why didn't you tell me?'

'Oh, and how was that supposed to go?' Martina snapped. 'Excuse me, I barely know you, you hardly notice me, and what minimal interaction we do have is you trying to charm me for devious ends, but I've found meself unintentionally in love with you, so how about it?'

Joey couldn't help it then; he laughed, letting it ring out across the room. She wasn't really cross, he knew, just defensive after having faced her fear and opened her heart to him, and the best way she knew to cope with that was upping the ante on her sarcasm. God, he loved it when she spoke like that, even if it meant copping the brunt of her ire.

'Is that really what you think? That I never noticed you?'

She shrugged.

'How could you think that, you daft —'

Even as he said it, he felt a twang of guilt. Yes, she'd caught his eye – several times he'd caught himself thinking about how attractive she was, wondering, when he had a moment in between Roxy assignations, whether he should take a step in that direction. But then Roxy had always come back, a siren impossible to resist, and then Shifty had stepped in, and Joey had given up on that idea. Besides, for all she banged on about his perceived indifference, he hadn't picked up on many signals from her himself, other than her barbed comments to him from behind the counter, which hovered in an ambiguous space between flirtatious and disdainful.

But if he'd thought about it – properly thought about it – and if he'd been less of a daft fool and picked up what she'd been putting down…

God, he was an idiot. And so was she, for thinking, even for a second, that her admission she'd loved him from afar for years would diminish what they had now.

'And as for changin' anything between us, sweetheart…of course it doesn't change anything!' Joey stood and swept her up into his arms, kissing her with as much feeling as he could draw from his suddenly brimming reserves of it. 'You've just taken away the last of me doubt, that's all – I thought you just pitied me, but…'

He grinned at her, exultant.

'You really do want me.'

Her snort gusted across his gob. 'And I thought I was the insecure one here.'

'Martina, you don't have to hide that – it's made sense of everything.'

'Well,' she snorted again, 'it makes sense of why I lost me senses and came after you in Scotland.'

'Scotland,' Joey laughed, 'that bloody Scotland trip – it was an act of love.'

He knew he'd never be able to tease her about it again. He'd come to the realisation, over time, that she'd done it because she cared, but the true extent of it blew him away. All of a sudden, he felt a great lump in his throat even thinking of it. All the while he'd been moping about, she'd risked everything to get him back on track – when she had nothing to gain from it (and even when he'd unleashed the brunt of his bad mood on her for attempting it). It had been out of sheer devotion – a devotion she'd more or less accepted he'd never even know about, let alone reciprocate. If that wasn't selfless, Joey didn't know what was.

'I've never known love like that before,' he murmured, awestruck.

'Pathetic, you mean?'

'It's not pathetic, sweetheart,' Joey shook her lightly, trying to impress upon her just what this meant to him.

'All those years, Martina, when all you saw of me…' it was this part that astounded Joey the most. He hadn't revealed all that much of himself to her until they'd started spending time together – certainly not the more genuine sides of himself. All she'd had to go on was the horrible stuff, and still she'd been able to find something in him to love. Unlike Roxy, who'd expected perfection and been enraged when he couldn't keep up the charade.

'You loved the worst version of me. The me I couldn't even cope with meself. The clever bastard who had to resort to dubious means to support his family – and on top of that, you came to Scotland and loved me in me darkest moments, when I wasn't even myself, and that…that, sweetheart…'

His words were almost peals of laughter now, born of a sense of joy and wonderment – and his giddiness seemed to be infectious – Martina's beautiful smile had come out, her apprehension diffused, replaced with an elation that matched his own. He couldn't resist spinning her around before he set her down.

'Listen,' Joey put one hand on each of her shoulders, 'I may not have known how you felt all that time, I might have been daft enough not to see it, but – I wish I had. I wish I'd known you then – really known you, the way I do now. You see, getting to know you, sweetheart, has been the best thing that's happened to me since – God, since before me Dad left. I haven't felt like this in so long…'

'Like what?'

'Happy,' Joey breathed, drunk on the ecstasy of it, 'happy, Martina. You reawakened summat in me I didn't think existed anymore. Martina, you are beautiful…you're wonderful…you're an amazing woman, sweetheart, and I don't know what I would've done without yer…'

'Er—could you stop there, please, Mister Boswell?' She was slightly stern, and it worried Joey a little.

'I don't wanna hear any more fancy words,' she continued, looking deep into his eyes, searing through his soul. And then, in a move that surprised him, she flopped backwards onto the bed. 'Show me.'

For a moment Joey was stunned into silence. She'd held out on him for so long; he suspected this had to do with how bad the last time had been – and yet now, she was clearly offering it to him, lying in front of him like a shiny package, begging to be unwrapped, explored. Joey's nerves were chomping at the bit, vying for dominance in his brain and body – he'd disappointed her last time, he knew, possibly even hurt her, and he was still wracked with guilt about that one. His hands shook.

But then she was sitting up again, pulling him against her, kissing him, her tongue dancing and playing with his, coaxing him back into a state of arousal, and he shut his brain up. This was Martina, the only woman who'd ever seen right into his core, the only woman who'd ever truly loved him for who and what he was, even as she hated him for it as well. This was Martina, who he was unequivocally sure he was in love with, when he'd thought a while back he would never love again. This was Martina, who was beautiful and desirable; the small part of him that hadn't been consumed with strange emotion and urgency last time had registered that she had a great body, a great body that he'd barely had the chance to touch properly, that he wanted to now. He had never experienced her in a state of sheer animal pleasure; he wanted to see, hear, feel what that was like.

She was eagerly pulling him down to her now, snogging him in a way that would have put Billy and Connie to shame, tugging at his shirt, at his trousers.

'These'll have to go,' she murmured, fumbling with the button. 'You're gettin' proper ones.'

'Eh?'

'Nothing.'

And then she was kissing him again and he let himself be swept along with it, taken by a storm of sensation and emotion that intensified with every movement, with every kiss and touch, and he gave in to her, and to his own desire, and let it happen. Joey let his mind and all his and cares and worries go spinning off into space, dizzied by sensation, only one thought left in his head, playing on a loop.

God, our Adrian was right. I am in love with her. I really, truly am.