It was just coming up to quarter to seven when Robbie Lewis pulled up on the street outside Laura's house. He checked his watch again, and straightened his tie. He wasn't exactly nervous…he had been looking forward to this evening all day…but he couldn't deny that he felt a little anxious. He looked at the clock on the dashboard, and confirmed what he already knew. He was early. Too early? He didn't want to barge in and rush her…or worse, end up standing awkwardly in the hall while she finished getting ready. He might be out of practice on the whole dating front, but he well remembered how long it would take Val to put her glad rags on and do her hair. He smiled at the memory. God, how many evenings had started with them bickering about how long she was taking? He checked the clock again. Still 15 minutes early.

The street was always quiet and Laura had, of course, clocked him the moment his car had pulled up to the kerb. Of course he was early. She smiled to herself as she adjusted the cushions on the sofa. Would he want to come in? She wandered back through to the kitchen and set the dishwasher running…no, he'd just sit and wait. Typical Robbie. She eyed the clock over the sink and wondered if she should go and put him out of his misery.

He was checking his phone as she opened the car door, and the unexpected sound made him start,

"Geez Laura, are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"

She grinned and slid in,

"Shouldn't wait around on strange street corners…never know who might turn up"

He smiled and slipped his phone back in his jacket pocket, his eyes taking in her appearance.

"I didn't want to rush you…you know, getting ready and all that"

She smirked at his obvious embarrassment and raised an eyebrow,

"What could possibly give you the idea I'm that high maintenance?"

He furrowed his brow and gave her his most patient look,

"Wait, don't answer that!"

She fastened her seatbelt, and sat back, suddenly feeling stupidly nervous. Biting her lip, she turned to look at him, wondering if he planned on starting the car any time soon.

He just smiled, seemingly watching her,

Caught mid-way between amusement and irritation, she raised an eyebrow, "What?"

Still smiling he reached over and delicately touching her chin, guided her lips to his in a gentle but firm kiss.

"You look beautiful"

She held his gaze for a moment, surprised a little at the intensity in his eyes, and then smiled mischievously,

"So, what's a girl got to do to get dinner?"

Their booking was for 7.30, so they ended up perched at the bar while the table was prepared.

"And he didn't tell you to get stuffed?"

"Aww.. it was there, in the subtext"

"Are you ok?"

"Mmm…they gave me a once over at the hospital"

"No…no.."

She tried to express herself carefully, sensitive to the rawness she knew so well. The silences in his conversations, the lost look that sometimes flickered across his eyes. The painful absence around which all their closeness had always skirted. As so many times before, she stumbled over the words.

But this evening it felt different. He was equally careful in his choice of words, but for the first time it felt like he was speaking directly to her about Val. Both including her in his grief, and the hope he felt at its passing,

"I'm just turning over the page on a new chapter"

At first she tried to dismiss it, still acutely aware that she had no idea where he wanted this confused relationship of theirs to end. Indeed, faced with his quiet acceptance of his feelings, she suddenly realised that for once in her life she hadn't planned ahead, not for a moment. He was coming for dinner on Monday night, and that was about as far as her mind had allowed her to think. She took another long sip of her drink, and set it carefully back on the bar. She felt his fingers lightly brush up against hers, and their eyes met again,

"Did I say something wrong?"

She smiled, shaking her head and squeezing his hand,

"No…not at all." She hesitated, unsure how to respond,

"You just said something I wasn't expecting to hear."

He looked at her sadly, but before he could reply properly, the waiter came over to announce their table was ready.

The food was delicious, and as they ate conversation flowed easily. He talked about his children, about his new grandchild. She told him about her father, about how she'd ended up in forensic pathology…how one day she planned to teach full-time. This was not an awkward first date, it was a meal between friends who had known each other for years, and were just beginning to discover how much they'd never talked about. Dessert came and went, he ordered a coffee, they lingered over the petit fours.

Laura sat back in her chair and smiled warmly at him. For once, she was completely relaxed and, after the rich food and delicious wine, slightly sleepy.

"Thank you for taking the evening off, Robbie…I've really enjoyed this"

He smiled back, holding her gaze, but there was a tinge of sadness in his eyes,

"Me too…we should have done this a long time ago"

She shook her head emphatically, not wanting to go down that route.

"Don't say that…"

He reached out across the table, his hand covering hers, his eyes now fixed on his empty coffee cup,

"I mean it…I've been unfair to you"

Again, she shook her head, turning her hand to stroke his palm, carefully, deliberately,

"I don't think so. Everything in it's own time, right?"

He sighed, and she studied his slumped shoulders, the regretful look in his eyes and made a decision. If he wanted to talk, then fine, they'd talk.

"OK, so how long?"

She'd said it decisively, but quietly, without agenda.

He looked at her again, this time smiling more confidently,

"Long enough"

"Meaning?"

"A couple of years…when Ali was killed…"

She paused, not wanting their conversation to feel quite so much like an interrogation. She had no desire to question him for her own benefit…but it seemed he wanted to talk.

"What changed?"

He'd been staring at their joined hands, her fingers still caressing his, but now he looked straight at her,

"I felt guilty…god, I felt so guilty"

For a moment she wasn't sure what to say. Of course he would have felt guilty about betraying Val…she knew that. It was logical, it was natural. Christ, she'd felt guilty about her feelings for him, so how on earth would he have felt? He probably still felt like it was a betrayal. Her heart sank a little. In spite of his earlier words, it was clear that things were far more complicated than she'd naively hoped.

"It must have brought everything back pretty vividly, another friend dying like that"

He nodded, his eyes serious,

"I was with her the night before she died, did you know that?"

"Hmm…I remember…you couldn't have known what would happen Robbie"

He hesitated, and rubbed his forehead nervously,

"She kissed me…then she was dead…and all I felt was guilt"

Laura suddenly wished they weren't sat in one of Oxford's most expensive hotels, surrounded by businessmen and tourists. That they were at home on her sofa, where she could talk to him properly, to help him revisit his memories away from prying eyes. She knew the waiter would be hovering soon, and she couldn't help but wish he would hurry up.

"Grief is a strange thing, Robbie…it makes you feel all kinds of emotions…I think it's entirely normal to feel guilty about Val."

It was as if a piece of the puzzle suddenly fell into place, and he sat back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers, a small ironic smile forming,

"I didn't feel guilty about Val, Laura"

He paused, but seeing her obvious confusion, pressed on,

"I felt guilty about you. That Ali had kissed me, and all I could think about was you. That she was dead and all I could think about was that I wanted you."

She swallowed, unsure what to say, her face serious. His hand was now warmly wrapped around hers, and she could see the waiter approaching over Robbie's shoulder,

"Can we go home?"

As they left the dining room, he felt her hand find his, her grasp a little tighter than usual. By the cloakroom, in the grand entrance hall, he helped her on with her coat, dropping a kiss to her forehead as he did so. They didn't speak…they didn't need to.

As Robbie slid the car out of the car park, Laura relaxed against the soft leather of the seat. The events of the week were beginning to catch up with her, and as he expertly handled the car around Oxford's winding streets, she tried not to over-think what he had told her. Suddenly things had begun to make more sense. The long looks, the more frequent touches. He had clearly been thinking about moving on for some time. And that knowledge made her feel so much more relaxed about the sudden shift in their relationship. He wanted this as much as she did.

Robbie glanced over at her, and smiled as he realised she had her eyes closed. She was tired, he could tell, and he was pleased that she felt so relaxed in his company. He was glad that he'd had the chance to explain his changing feelings for her. Not that he'd really told her how he felt about her, but he'd made a start. Gently, he placed his hand on her knee, and he smiled as she covered his hand with her own.