Spurred into action by the recent activity in the Bread fandom, great to hear from people, I finally tracked down my log in details and finished off this story. I actually started this in 2016 and it's my take on how episode 4 series 6 should have ended for Joey and Martina. I know the episode went out in September, but it is Valentines Day still in UK and I always love a bit of Joetina romance. Still original Joey in my HC.
BUS RIDE TO HUYTON - FEBRUARY 13TH 1990.
Tea having finished only Nellie and Joey remained in the kitchen, the latter enjoying a cup of coffee and the evening paper and the other tackling the interminable washing up. The phone rang out, sighing Nellie wiped her hands then fished around in her pinny pocket.
"Hello, yes?"
"It's for you Joey." Nellie handed the phone over.
"Greetings." Joey began expansively. The first few words he heard wiped the smile off his face, and he began to frown.
Nellie watched him with increasing anxiety, who had done what she wondered fretfully, not that she was ever told anything. She always knew of course when something was wrong, but she kept up the pretence of being blissfully unaware. Her eyebrows rose as she heard Joey's next sentence, and she leant forward.
"A bus, did you say? A corpie bus?" Joey had done a Nellie and his voice had risen.
The answer caused him to close his eyes and bang his free hand on the table in frustration. He took a deep steadying breath and spoke in a more measured tone.
"Right, is there any chance I can speak to him?"
He held his hand over the receiver and turned to his mam.
"It's Shifty, he's taken a bus full of people and driven it down the M6."
"Oh, dear God!" Nellie crossed herself and sat down, relieved it wasn't one of her brood.
"I told you," Nellie stopped dead at Joey's wave.
"Yes, still here. Would it be possible then to get his girlfriend's address so we can let her know? No problem, I'll hold." Joey turned back to her.
"Where is he Joey?" Nellie hissed furtively.
"Stoke."
"Stoke?"
"Stoke on Trent skevy to be precise."
He turned back to his call.
"Thank you, yes I've got that. And thanks for letting us know."
Joey scribbled down the address, the tinny music from his pen sounding more irritating than usual. Nellie pursed her lips, for some reason she couldn't explain the musical pens really grated on her.
"Honestly Joey, whatever will he do next?" Nellie was indignant.
"I don't know mam, but we need to let Martina know what's happened. She's not so far away."
He checked his watch. "In fact I'll go now before it gets too late."
"Ok luv."
Nellie shook her head, she should never have agreed to have that Shifty in the first place nor take him back. Like Freddie really, taking him back time and time again, when she should just cut her losses. Easy to say, but he was her Freddie and he could charm the birds out of the trees when he felt like it. She supposed Martina was the same. Funny you'd think given her job that she wouldn't be susceptible to the likes of Shifty, but well, there was no accounting for affairs of the heart. She shook her head again, sighed and turned back to the washing up.
Joey pulled up into Sefton Drive and squinted through the gloom. Yeah, this was it. He located the correct doorbell and rang. The door buzzed and he went in. No 1 was the door to the right of the stairs. Joey raised his hand to knock when it was yanked open.
"About bloody," Martina paused, her eyes widening at the sight of Joey.
"0h, er, Mr. Boswell?" Her voice and expression betrayed her surprise.
Joey gave a slight smile. "Erm, Martina, may I come in?"
She eyed him suspiciously without opening the door further. "Why?"
"It's about Shifty."
Her face fell, and reluctantly she stood back and allowed him in, directing him through the nearest door.
She gestured to the sofa, and Joey perched on the edge.
"Well?" Her tone was aggressive, as she stood by the door.
Joey gulped, "It seems instead of going to Huyton he drove his bus with a whole load of passengers along the M62 and down the M6."
"He did what?" Martina couldn't believe her ears.
"He got stopped at Stoke and the police rang us. They're driving the bus and passengers back, but holding him there."
"I don't believe it." Martina shook her head disbelievingly.
"It's true I'm afraid sweetheart."
He drew breath, suddenly feeling unaccountably embarrassed, "I asked for your address so I could let you know what had happened. I didn't want you sitting and worrying."
She nodded, "Thank you Mr. Boswell."
At her words an odd, unexpected understanding passed between them, akin to the last time there had been raw honesty from Joey about Shifty and grandad, when he had revealed some of his heartbreak over Roxy.
"I'm sorry, Martina." Joey spoke softly
She took a deep breath. "It's not your fault Mr. Boswell."
"No, I know, but he is me cousin and I did push me mam to take him in, so I feel a bit responsible for the havoc he's wreaking."
He looked strangely contrite, she couldn't help noticing, none of his usual arrogant swagger.
"I did try to warn you, right at the start."
"When?"
Martina was puzzled, she couldn't remember Joey Boswell ever telling her what a complete shit Shifty was.
"Er, I asked if he'd collected his money and you said you couldn't tell me without his permission, and that no-one could pull the wool over your eyes. So.." He shrugged, leaving the rest of the sentence unsaid.
She rolled her eyes. "You call that a warning?"
He smiled shyly, "It was meant to be, but I guess I sort of bottled it."
There was a heavy silence, both of them deep in thought.
Joey swallowed, he'd been covertly looking around the flat and at Martina, and thought how pretty she looked with her hair up. He spotted the neatly set table and the burnt down candles and guessed the meal she'd cooked was ruined. He wondered if she'd eaten.
"You're looking very beautiful this evening."
It had come out without him thinking it through, before his brain had a chance to keep his mouth shut.
If looks could kill the one she gave him would have resulted in his corpse lying flat on the floor.
"Mr. Boswell, you don't have to try to make amends, I don't hold you responsible for what's happened."
Martina's words didn't quite match the expression on her face, although in reality it wasn't Joey she was livid with.
"No, I wasn't. I was just stating a fact. You are looking very beautiful this evening."
He shifted uncomfortably, he hadn't meant to repeat it either.
"Instead of sitting in here why don't you come for a drink with me?"
This burst out of him as well. He shut his eyes tight, feeling he was doing a Billy letting his thoughts come tumbling out before he had a chance to filter them.
"I beg your pardon?" Martina was convinced she'd misheard him.
He gathered his thoughts and tried again. After all he wasn't Billy, at least he had the self-awareness to know he was sounding like a dick.
"Why don't we go for a drink, rather than you sitting here brooding."
Martina smiled, very weakly. It occurred to her that Joey had bothered to think about the effect Shifty's behaviour would have on her, gone to the trouble of getting her address, (not that she was entirely happy about that) and put himself out to come and tell her what had happened. A tiny, almost imperceptible shift on her opinion of Joey took place. Her voice became gentler, she would keep her murderous thoughts for Shifty, when she next saw him. Whenever that might be.
"It's alright Mr. Boswell, you don't have to feel sorry for me. You've done your bit, let me know, you don't need to waste the rest of your evening."
"It wouldn't be wasting it, honest."
He tried to sound casual when actually he wanted to take her for a drink, talk to her, get to know her a bit better.
"I mean you're all dressed up, seems a pity to," he caught sight of her face and shut his gob abruptly.
"I'm sorry. I'm not helping things am I? Would you like me to go?"
"Yes please."
Martina's anger was giving way to self-pity and she wanted nothing more than to bury herself under her bedclothes and cry her eyes out.
He got up, and for some reason held out his hand for her to shake.
She raised her eyebrows.
He looked down at his outstretched hand, and grinned, "I don't know what's the matter with me this evening. I'm not usually this awkward."
He did know of course, being in close proximity to Martina was having an unnerving effect on him.
Inadvertently Martina came to his rescue, "Probably embarrassment Mr. Boswell."
"Probably."
He hesitated, reluctant to leave her, aware that now her anger had subsided she looked sad and lonely.
"Look, can I get you anything before I go?"
"No, thank you Mr. Boswell." Martina managed to keep her tone even, even though she was desperate to see the back of him.
"Right, well I'll see you."
He nodded and turned towards the door.
"No doubt Mr Boswell, no doubt."
She tried to speak with her normal DHSS voice opening the door, willing him to go through so she could give free reign to the tears that were welling up behind her eyes.
He walked forward, thank God she thought, the tears beginning to leak out.
Then he turned back,
"I do understand Martina, I've spent nearly all me adult life in love with someone who's selfish and self-centred and I know it's no good for me, but I can't let go, can't stop making excuses, can't stop wanting to try and try again even though I know it's hopeless."
He looked at her face wet with tears, and felt his own eyes filling up.
He stepped forward, shut the door behind him and took her in his arms. Her tears fell heavily and she sobbed unrestrainedly into his shoulder. He led her back to the sofa and sat them both down. He stroked her hair, and allowed his own tears to fall unchecked.
Eventually, once Martina had sobbed herself into silence, she lifted her head, noting Joey's red rimmed eyes and wet cheeks.
"The one you spoke about who married someone else?"
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Martina gave a watery smile.
"What a pair we are Mr. Boswell. What a pair."
Joey sighed, pulled her in closer, and rested his head on hers.
"Why do we do it though?"
"Love I suppose Mr. Boswell. When Cupid whacks you with one of his bloody arrows you're incapable of acting rationally. Even when you know you shouldn't be with someone, you just can't break out."
Joey mumbled his assent.
"It's not the first time it's all gone wrong for me. I seem to have a habit of falling for the wrong sort, diving in headlong then getting hurt. And I don't seem to learn from it. Five minutes of Shifty's nonsense and I'm in there again, getting it wrong, crashing into a wall before I've got me foot off the accelerator and on to the brake."
Joey wasn't sure what to say in answer to this, so rather than stick his foot in it he kept quiet and squeezed her a bit tighter.
He caught sight of the clock on the wall, just gone midnight. A thought struck him, and he chuckled.
"I bet you didn't expect to be spending Valentine's morning like this."
He hugged her a little tighter.
"No, Mr. Boswell I didn't."
She thought for a moment, thinking back to the evening she had planned.
"But, then I don't suppose you did either."
"No, no. But the company's better than I was expecting."
'Yeah,' she thought trying to push her vision of Shifty away, 'I could say the same thing.'
She gave a half smile to herself, snuggled herself closer against him and spoke.
"You know what Mr. Boswell, you might just be right."