A/N: Thank you for all your on-going support and lovely comments and reviews, they really are what keep me going whether it's a new story or back to the Barn to see how they are doing … I do hope you enjoy this further slice of the story and as always thank you to Flossie for being my proof reader extraordinaire.

-OG-

"But why? I don't want him to go…"

Just like every other time they'd talked about it, Chloe was insisting she couldn't see why Sam had to leave home to do an apprenticeship, why he couldn't just commute to somewhere in London, there were bound to be loads of places there. It seemed to Molly that Charles had gone over it with her a least a thousand times already, well, actually they both had, they'd talked the bloody thing to death.

"I know … " Charles was doing his best to be patient but there was just a hint of exasperation creeping in his voice and into the expression on his face "I think we all know how you feel about it Chloe … and none of us want him to go … but we've already been over all this and you know there's nothing round here and … well … it's really not that different to him being away at school"

But Chloe was determined to keep the Oscar winning drama queen performance going, until eventually Charles just shrugged and got up to put his cup in the dishwasher, signalling that as far as he was concerned the discussion was over. He half turned and looked at her over his shoulder and told her in his firmest no-nonsense Captain James' voice that all the fuss in the world wasn't going to make a scrap of bloody difference, there was no way Sam was going to spend the foreseeable lying on his bed keeping up with his mares on social media and waiting for something to turn up. It was not going to happen. Chloe immediately set about re-doubling the intensity of her outrage and narrowed her eyes to scowl at him before tossing her head and muttering under her breath about how hard it was when you had a dad who was a mean tyrant.

"Give it a bloody rest Clo … I know you're upset … well, we all know that, don't we? And that you'll miss 'im … we all will, but your dad's right … he has to go for an apprenticeship if he wants to get on and learn to be a chef … and there's none round here … it's not like he won't never come 'ome again, is it? He'll be back all the time … now put a sock in it"

Molly couldn't help the niggling little suspicion in the back of her head that the pair of them had somehow cooked all this up between them. They'd always been joined at the bloody hip, ever since she was very little Chloe had worshipped Sam, had spent all the time he was home from school and with them slavishly following him round copying him, she'd hung on his every word, which hadn't always been the best thing, because it meant she was a bit of a defiant bloody handful at times. And okay it was obvious she was going to miss him, they'd all got used to him being around since he refused to go back to school, but Chloe more than the others. It was just that Molly couldn't help wishing she could get rid of the little voice that was telling her it wasn't all about Sam going, he wanted to go and Chloe knew that, it just felt it had a lot to do with getting Charles to put his hand in his back pocket and fund the car Sam so desperately wanted. She really hoped she was wrong, but it wouldn't surprise her to hear one of them say that if he had a car, he could come home more often. She was almost waiting for it, no matter that Sam hadn't even passed his bloody test yet.

But Charles had had enough of going round and round in circles and getting nowhere, so got all brisk and almost marched to the door where he stood waiting, drumming his fingers against the frame in the only outward sign of how bloody irritated he was. He jerked his head at the kids to tell them he was ready and waiting for them to make a move, that as far as he was concerned the subject was now closed.

"Come on you lot ... chop, chop … get your stuff and say goodbye to Mummy … get a move on, we don't want to be late … come on Chloe …time to go"

Molly had to stifle her urge to giggle. It was always bloody hard not to laugh when he did his Captain act and started issuing his orders, she always wanted to stand to attention and salute, say yessir, but that would be an unforgivably mean thing to do, would undermine him, because sometimes it was really hard for him not to revert to old habits. And she had to admit that the usual chaos of finding bags and shoes and missing homework and lost books and gym kit all got sorted in record time so was left wondering if maybe she should copy his way of doing it next time she was struggling to get them in the bloody car without losing her temper. It definitely looked easier and a hell of a lot less exhausting than her usual screaming and shouting and making threats.

Livvie was heavy on her hip and had one sticky hand in a death grip in her hair and was using it as a hanging strap which was already so bleeding painful Molly was being dead careful about how she moved her head as they stood watching out the sitting room window. It looked as if Charles was still a bit Captain Shitty as he strode towards the car, keys at the ready with the kids competing for his attention and struggling to keep up with him. All except for Chloe of course who was walking in front of him looking like she was still in a dead strop and as Molly watched it struck her that there was probably zero bloody chance of Marcus remembering she hadn't promised anything. All that bleeding fuss with Chloe meant he'd of forgotten by now that she'd said "maybe" and on top of that she was horribly afraid Charles might be distracted enough by the ongoing drama queen act not to notice that Marcus was getting all carried away. She could only hope he didn't think it was a done deal, because she definitely didn't want more than two of the buggers at the very most, especially if she was going to have to bath them or something to get rid of the mites. The thought of handling them when they had no feathers and had things living on them made her skin crawl, she never had been the best with creepie crawlies. In fact, one lone chicken would be favourite. Not that there was much chance of that, soft hearted Marcus, and probably the girls as well, would be having a blue fit about it being lonely if it had to live on its own in their garden, they'd be accusing her of being cruel. It would probably end up living in the sodding kitchen which didn't bear thinking about.

Millie was hanging onto one of Charles' hands and swinging it violently as she competed with Marcus for every last bit of his attention, Molly knew she'd be trying to tell him exactly what he had to say to her teacher but Marcus was getting in the way. He was hopping about and dodging backwards and forwards trying to show Charles exactly where he thought they should build this home for his new mates, and judging from the way he was waving his arms in the air it seemed like he had plans for it to be the Buckingham Palace of chicken houses. Probably with en-suite facilities. But whatever else, she was pretty sure they had to make it fox proof because there were definitely foxes round here, Patches had this horrible habit of rolling in something that made him stink to high heaven and which someone had told her was fox shit. Molly had some vague idea, probably from some tele drama, that if it wasn't fox proofed, they'd come down one morning and find the equivalent of the chainsaw massacre in the garden. Only trouble was, she had no idea how you go about doing that, whether you can buy one ready made in B&Q or if you had to make it yourself.

Even through the window she could see how excited Marcus was as he chatted away nineteen to the bloody dozen to his dad, something which was really quite unusual in itself. Marcus was usually quiet, seemed to miles prefer standing back to watch and listen, so it was a bit lovely to see, but it made it very hard for her to see how she could possibly burst his bubble and say he couldn't have them. It was going to be well-nigh bleeding impossible. It was beginning to look like she was going to have to just suck it up and get over the shudders of horror at the idea of actually handling one. One that wasn't oven-ready and didn't come from Waitrose. Actually, picking it up and that. With its creepie crawlies.

As she watched the car vanish, a thought popped in her head and she began trying to pin point when it was he'd stopped kissing her goodbye, or actually when they'd stopped kissing one another. She couldn't put her hand on her heart and swear she always remembered to kiss him goodbye either, and once upon a time that would have been bloody unthinkable. Now it had become the sort of normal, but suddenly it felt a bit sad, maybe because of yesterday, and fresh starts and all that. But then she gave herself a little shake and a stern talking to. What the fuck was wrong with her? It didn't mean anything, he didn't mean anything by it, so why the fuck was she trying to sift through all the shit in her brain looking for something else to worry about?

-OG-

"Come on Sam, honestly you'll feel better if you 'ave something to eat before you go …"

"Not hungry …"

"I know … but … you will be later … and … it's all gonna be alright, you know … sorry, listen to me sounding like some bleeding annoying grown up … it's just … go in there 'n look 'em straight in the eye, and smile at the fuckers like they're Simon Cowell … and don't forget to wait till they ask you to park your bum … sorry, hark at me … your bloody manners are already much better than mine so I'll shut up … but … just remember, it really don't matter if it feels like you've left your brains in the car or you're 'aving trouble even remembering your own name … " Molly put her hand on top of his where it was resting on the kitchen table "Or is that just me? Prob'bly … but it don't matter …" Molly was encouraged to hear him give a little giggle "Cos whatever happens … it don't change anything … you'll still be bleeding awesome … and we'll all still be bleeding proud of you … all of us, not just Chloe … and remember … you can always fake it ill you make it …they won't know the difference …" Molly laughed as Sam sniggered "But you know what I mean, just get in there and give it your best shot … mind you it'd be quite good if we 'ad your room to rent out … help pay the vet bills for these bleeding chickens"

"Lovely … I hope you're joking"

"Me? Joking? Nah … whatever made you think that?" Molly was doing everything she could to try and make him laugh even though her heart was bleeding for him "You know I am … and anyway no-one in their right bloody mind would pay good money to live 'ere and listen to the kids fighting and Millie screaming … still, might gonna 'ave to get your dad to hurry up and get you that car, just in case you need to live in it"

"Thanks… I think"

He was so pale he looked almost as if he was going to throw up any second and Molly couldn't help thinking how it should have been his mum talking to him, trying to jolly him up and give him some confidence. But then, thinking about it, maybe not. She didn't think Lady Penelope would have the first idea how he was feeling, she'd probably never been crap at anything in her whole entire life, not like Molly, who understood exactly how he felt. She'd always been bloody crap at interviews and first days and all the rest, had always been shitting herself beforehand, knowing that first impressions were her personal fucking nightmare. Sam looked so bloody young sitting there in his best shirt twirling a tea spoon in his fingers from stirring a cup of tea he hadn't touched as he looked down at the table and chewed his bottom lip. Even though he was about the same age as she was when she'd taken herself off and joined up, he seemed a hell of a lot younger somehow, probably because he'd had a much more sheltered life than her. But it wasn't only the expression on his face or the way he bit his lip that made him the bloody dead spit of his dad, it was everything about how he looked except for being a bit on the skinny side. And the Harry Potter specs of course that he kept taking on and off, constantly wiping the lenses, in a dead giveaway that he was actually crapping himself with nerves. But he might be tall as Charles and have his smile and dark curly hair, and he might be drop-dead gorgeous looking, but that was where it ended. In all other ways Sam wasn't a bit like his dad, he was shy and nervous and absolutely bloody hated being the centre of attention, was the complete bloody opposite of Charles. Although admittedly Molly had no idea what an eighteen-year old Charles had been like, it was just that somehow she could only see him as a younger version of the Charles of today, sort of happy and confident in his own skin. Mostly. Alright maybe not all of the time, but he was still as bloody good at hiding how he felt as he had been when Molly first knew him. Alright, maybe not even that was strictly true, but it was still what he wanted people to see when they looked at him. And in the main it was still what they did see.

"Did I ever tell you it was my first proper day at work that I met your dad … after I'd finished doing all the training 'n that? He took one look at me and bloody hated me, threatened to lob me out the plane, and now look at us … not that I'm suggesting you should offer to snog anyone, well, only as a last resort …"

"Is that what you did?"

"Nah … wish I'd thought of it … but … nah … anyway not sure how he'd of taken it and I was very busy crapping meself at the time … I wasn't always this super confident cool person you see in front of you …

"Really? Never have believed that"

They shared their first proper laugh as Sam leaned across the table and put his arms round her. As he hugged her Molly felt a real pang. Chloe wasn't the only one who was going to miss him like there was this hole in her heart.

"Thanks Moll … you always know how to make me feel tons better"

"I wish … but just remember … whatever happens sunshine, I'll always be a bigger fuck up than you'll ever be"

-OG-

"Hey …"

"'ullo … did it go okay? Did Millie go in without a fuss … what did her teacher say?"

"Indeed … but I didn't see her teacher … actually Mrs Buchanan saw me in the corridor and waylaid me …"

"I'll bet she bloody did … probably couldn't believe her luck getting you all to herself …"

"I don't know what you're talking about"

"Oh yes you do … I'm surprised you got out alive going in there on your own … unless you let her give you a blow job … oh shit, you didn't, did you?"

"MOLLY" He was trying his best not to laugh "I told you I don't know what you're on about … Mrs Buchanan is a … nice … lady … but she's bloody older than Nan…" He was laughing "She's about five years from a nursing home and anyway … I wasn't sure where to bloody look, she's had so much … what's it called … Botox?" He waved his hand in a circle in front of his face "Her face is fucking frozen … I thought she'd had a stroke for a minute … I mean, for fuck sake"

"Didn't you know?"

"Fuck … she hasn't … has she?"

"Nah …"

"That's not funny"

"You should see your face … anyway freezing her gob like that don't stop her fancying you, does it?"

"It's all in your head" He laughed "Anyway she's got purple hair"

"Yeah, well there is that" Molly was also laughing. The woman almost had her tongue hanging out as she all but prostrated herself in front of him whenever they went into school for anything "Never mind about what she offered you, what did she say about yesterday?"

"Pretty much what you'd expect, a lot of bowing and scraping and saying how sorry she was … thinking about the fees disappearing probably … and that she'd have a word with the class teacher about keeping an eye on Mills today, making sure she's okay and she said she'll remind all the teachers about the importance of making sure the kids know when someone different is picking them up … not much else she could say is there?"

"Nah, not when she was busy licking the drool off of her chin"

"Shut up …. Where's Sam? Is he ready?"

"Yeah just gone to the loo …'ere go easy on 'im won't you? He's crapping himself with nerves and he's not one of your squaddie's …"

"What do you mean, go easy? … I'm always easy and I was always lovely to my squaddies"

"You weren't lovely to me"

"You? Well you were different …" He leaned over and kissed the top of her head "SAM … come on … we'd better crack on"

"I'm here … no need to shout"

"Here …" He threw Sam the car keys "Wait in the car, I won't be a minute"

"Oh good … does that mean I can drive?"

"Not a bloody chance …"

"You know you're gonna 'ave to let him one day, don't you?"

"Nope"

"Stop being mean … 'ere Sam … good luck mate, break a leg or whatever, and remember only if you 'ave to, and then it's only as a last resort …"

"What the fuck are you on about now Dawsey?" Sam was giggling as he nodded and his dad laughed and leaned forward to peck her on the cheek.

"That's between me and Sam …" Molly put her fingers on her cheek where he'd kissed her "Is that it? All I'm getting?"

"For now … hold that thought for later … right, we're off then, and don't forget to ring the surgery"

"Nag, nag, nag … go on, piss off … 'n drive careful"

"Always"

-OG-

Charles took a deep breath as he watched Molly chewing her bottom lip and lean forward to get closer to the mirror to carefully apply another coat of mascara to her lashes. Because she so very rarely bothered with it, he had forgotten just how incredible she looked when she did put on a bit of make-up, how it made her eyes look stunningly beautiful, huge and green, framed as they were by her shining chestnut hair. Instead of being tied back into her usual ponytail or plait, it was a sleek waterfall of smooth curls falling over her shoulders and down her back.

"Do I look alright?"

"Nope …"

"What?"

"Molly … you look absolutely bloody amazing …" He was biting his bottom lip as he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her round to look at him "You are so beautiful … I'm really not sure I should let you out of my sight looking like that"

"Maybe I shouldn't go then? I mean don't 'ave to, could always, you know, do it another time … Jacs won't mind … I mean, she'll be up for some other weekend … I know, she said she was 'aving a party in a coupla weeks … we could go to that instead … get Nan down to look after the kids … what do you think?"

"Don't be daft … of course you're going … you've been looking forward to it … why wouldn't you go? We can go to Jacs' party as well if you want to"

"I dunno … I'm just not sure I do want to, not when we got such a lot on 'ere … I'll only worry about you all if you're 'ere and I'm not …"

"Worry about what? Come on, don't be silly, we'll all be absolutely fine, now hurry up or you're going to miss your train …"

"You trying to get rid of me?"

"Of course …how did you guess?" He shook his head "Come on just go and have a lovely time and don't worry about us …. you're going to enjoy yourself, and just remember don't get so pissed you forget all about what I said about having your stomach pumped … now, give everyone my best …."

"If we wait till the party you can see 'em all yourself …"

"Molly?"

"What?"

"Just go" He smiled "I'll see you tomorrow, when your hangover allows"

Over the past few days he'd seen her go from being full of excited anticipation for the weekend jaunt she'd planned with Jackie to a real reluctance, and the closer it got to the weekend, the more reluctant she'd got. There was a huge bit of him that wanted more than anything to just agree that she should give it a miss and stay at home with him while he attempted to follow the bloody "YouTube" instructions of how to build a fox-proof henhouse. When he was virtually a D.I.Y virgin, while at the same time looking after all four kids. On his own. Something which also worried him slightly. Especially as Sam was also away for the weekend with some mates doing god only knew what, it probably didn't bear thinking about and all Charles could hope was that he was being reasonably sensible. Or anyway as sensible as anyone could hope for with a bunch of 18 year old lads on a weekend trip to Blackpool. But this weekend was supposed to be all about Molly getting away and having fun with friends she hadn't seen for a very long time, leaving the domestic life behind for a weekend so she didn't feel trapped. And it had all been his idea. He'd wracked his brains for something to show her he understood how she'd felt about getting a break and this had been all he'd been able to come up with, and now it had come to it, he didn't want her to go, even though she was just going to meet up with old friends and have a meal and probably a few drinks. He had to just pull himself together, behave himself, there was nothing for him to get worried about, this was Molly and she loved him, he knew that. But the last few months had taken their toll on his confidence so that if he was being entirely honest he'd have to admit that right now he'd be far happier if she was make up free and wearing one of his 't' shirts. And not getting ready to go out. In fact, he'd be bloody happy if she never wore anything else so was having to work hard at telling himself to stop being such a selfish and self-obsessed twat.

As she reluctantly left the house Millie had hung on her demanding to know whether she was going to bring back presents, making Charles laugh and call her a mercenary little madam. He'd reminded her that he hadn't always brought anything when he'd been away and it had been for much longer, and earned himself a scowl from Millie who seemed to have forgotten all about those failures on his part. But she had then immediately wanted to know why going out with her friends meant Molly had to stay out all night so that Charles hustled her into getting into her car and going, he knew just how close she was to saying she wasn't going to go.

Once Molly was on the train rattling towards the place she'd called home for the first eighteen years of her life she was trying her best to persuade herself that she was looking forward to it. She was reminding herself over and over that it was just one night, and that anyway it was all down to her, she was the one who'd made a huge fuss about feeling trapped, about wanting to get some freedom back. So it was going to be fun. If it killed her. It had to at least be worth sitting on a train wearing her new ankle boots with heels instead of her battered old converse and trying to remember not to chew off her lipstick as well as remembering all the rules of not looking at anyone else. It was a long time since she'd been on her own on a train up to London, they'd usually drive up with the kids. And now she was desperately trying not to whip out her phone and give in and call him. It wasn't that she didn't trust him, although that was bound to be what he thought, but it was just she wanted to make sure everything was okay. But knew even if she did give in and call, he probably wouldn't tell her if things had gone to shit.

Slowly the countryside was giving way to miles of grey suburbs with all the hundreds of houses all crowded together in narrow streets until they in turn gave way to the little factories and rows of shops and the tower blocks that she remembered so well. Okay, so to a lot of people it was more than a bit on the grotty side, there were smackheads and prostitutes on street corners and the smell of fast food and burger wrappers blowing around in the street, but there were also bloody good pubs and she'd never felt even the slightest bit threatened walking around on her own. It was what she used to call home.

-OG-