Author's note: An apology to any German speakers. Tommy's German is a bit rusty, akin to the standard of Google Translator in fact! And their new friends' English is almost right.

Oh, and my schedule for this one is to release a chapter about every two days so it takes us almost to Christmas.


Barbara stood on the open station waiting for Tommy to organise their bags. Well his bags actually as everything she needed had fitted neatly into her backpack which lay at her feet. She was waiting at the blue figure six that was painted with typical Swiss efficiency to mark exactly where their carriage door would open. She watched him hurrying up the platform politely smiling as he navigated around a group of men with long canvas sacks. The years had taken their toll. His face was more lined than it had been when they met. The square, chiselled jaw that had been so certain about life was more rounded and softened by an echoing roll that sat below it. When he smiled his cheeks were much fuller but if anything they set off his expressive brown eyes more than ever. Barbara sighed; she could lose herself completely in those eyes.

"Sorry, I had to bring some of Judith's gear with me." He was panting slightly but was trying hard not to let it show.

"I was beginning to think Lord Asherton on holidays was even more of a decadent packer than DI Lynley."

"Tommy Lynley on holiday is the most frugal of all my personalities. You are relatively familiar with the other two but I hope you get to know him a little more over the next few days."

Those eyes had a mischievous glint and Barbara blushed, unsure what to say. She looked past Tommy and was intrigued by the men and their sacks. "What do those men have in those bags?"

"Alpenhorns," Tommy answered disinterestedly knowing she was avoiding talking about anything personal.

"Excuse me?"

"Alpenhorns. They're a mountain musical instrument. Quite haunting really when they stand on top of a hill and play down into the valley."

Three men struggled to balance their eight foot long horns as they weaved up the platform before stopping behind Barbara. They were about forty and had clearly been indulging in too many steins of lager. Two of them exchanged a comment in German then sniggered.

Tommy turned on them. "Genug! Sprechen nicht von mienem Freund."

"Entchuldigung Herr." The men bowed courteously at Barbara. "Tut mir Leid frau."

"What did they say?" Barbara asked as she smiled at them.

"It doesn't matter. They apologised," he replied brusquely. He was not going to tell her what they had suggested Barbara could do with their horns. He looked at her closely. They were right though, she had lovely fine lips. He had never really noticed that before; his focus had always been on her emerald eyes. For a moment he was transported back to Billy Verger's cottage and the moment he had tried to explain how the divine proportion could be applied to faces and realised that despite her attempt to disguise it with a shaggy haircut, baggy clothes and self-deprecating comments she was quite beautiful.

"Clearly something unpleasant," she said, "probably noticed I was not up to your standard."

"Rubbish Havers." He turned to the men who were standing sheepishly behind them. "Sprechen die Englisch?"

The biggest man answered, "Ja, ve speak English."

Barbara seized her chance. "Then what did you say about me?"

The man was clearly uncomfortable. "Please, ve are sorry. Ve make poor joke. Ve are going to Alpenfest and drunk too much already."

Barbara could tell they were no different to hundreds of drunks she had arrested who liked to show off for their friends. "It's okay. What is Alpenfest?"

"The Zermatt folklore festival. Ve hold every August on the second weekend. Ve go to play and drink."

Tommy started to laugh. "Of all the weekends my sister has to be married in the middle of a festival."

"Do you think she knew?" Barbara asked.

He shrugged. "Somehow I suspect not."

The men were friendly and had travelled down from Lucerne for the weekend. They told them about the history of the festival and the activities. There would be a parade and drinking, and music and drinking, and storytelling and drinking, and folk dancing and drinking. For Barbara the idea of people dressing in traditional costumes and herding black-necked goats through the village to the sound of alpenhorns was so far removed from London life that it fired her imagination. It might also be good to share an experience with Tommy that was not family and not work. "So really it is about drinking," she joked, "that sounds like fun Sir, we should go."

Tommy did not share her enthusiasm but could tell she was keen. "Yes, okay, if you want to go."

Barbara knew from his tone that he was only being polite. She wondered when and how he ever relaxed, other than alone with alcohol. In her fantasies she had imagined him to be an attentive and generous lover but watching him now she realised he was always slightly guarded, even with her. She concluded that this tension cut across everything that he did. When she thought about it he had been like that with Helen, uptight and afraid to let the real Tommy out. She remembered watching him kiss Helen once. It had been nervous and forced. Perhaps he would be like that all the time, afraid to let go and just be himself, afraid to take a chance and surrender to the moment. But who is the real Tommy Lynley? Does he even know?

"It'd do you good."

Tommy frowned at her harsh tone. He could kick himself. He wanted her to enjoy herself and to learn to relax around him and yet he had offhandedly dismissed something harmless that she would enjoy. In reality he was jealous that she had established an easy rapport with drunken strangers and after nine years could still not even call him by name. He was determined that was going to change but he knew he also had to take things slowly.

The group continued to chat and Tommy tried hard to be amiable. When the train arrived it was already crowded with revellers who had boarded at Brig. They pushed onto their panoramic carriage and squeezed past women in gaily embroidered swirling skirts and men in peasant shirts and buttoned trousers. They found their seats and sat down. Barbara was watching the passengers but also trying to look out through the angled panoramic glass windows which curved across the roof to expose the imposing sides of the valley. Tommy smiled lovingly at Barbara. She was like a child seeing Christmas for the first time. When they passed a waterfall that roared down the steep rocks she gasped and touched his arm. Electricity surged through him. She turned to look at him and her smile made all reason disappear. He wanted to kiss her and the way she was looking at him gave him hope that she might not object. The carriage was full of noise and excitement but Tommy's whole attention was focused on her. Her lips would be soft and her kiss would be sweet. It was not the most romantic spot he could choose but maybe just a quick kiss, some type of signal of intent.

From the back of the carriage the strains of a lively beer drinking tune drifted toward them. "Oh look Sir, an oompah band!"

"A what?" Tommy had been so lost in his fantasies that it took him some seconds to recognise the sound of the brass band. The spell was broken and his moment had been lost.

"Over there. Men in leather shorts and braces with big shiny trumpets and horns."

Tommy was grumpy that he had missed his opportunity with Barbara. "Lederhosen and the horns are tubas. The dress is more traditionally Bavarian but has been adopted as a de facto symbol for all things German. This part of Switzerland, despite being so close to both France and Italy is German speaking, although most of them are Roman Catholic."

"Right, thanks for the geography lesson Sir. Can't you ever just enjoy something without having to educate me or correct me?"

"I'm sorry. I was trying to enhance your experience."

"Yeah? Well don't try so hard Sir. I'll either enjoy it or hate it but it will be my reaction, from my frame of reference. I'm never going to be a well-educated woman of the world like Deborah or your other friends. I'm always going to be me. Don't try to make into something I can never be."

"I'm not," he cried plaintively. I like you just as you are.

"Good." Barbara turned away from him and looked out the window. She could see his face reflected in the glass. A minute before when he had looked at her after she touched his arm it had taken her breath away. Those eyes! She had wanted to reach out and caress his face. She had panicked at the thought and distracted him but then it had led inevitably to an argument. He looked perplexed and hurt at her outburst. She had not meant to upset him but she wanted him to understand she was always going to be who she was and that was not someone who had travelled widely and understood the nuances of national dress. Watching his face more closely now she could see a deep melancholy behind his eyes. She imagined he had been keen to make up for his assumptions and was eager for her to enjoy herself and now she had spoiled it. Would it kill you to be nice to him?

Barbara turned to Tommy. "The terrain is breathtaking. Tell me about Zermatt and the house we are staying in."

If most women were a puzzle to men Barbara was as hard to understand as the Enigma code. He was sure there was a pattern if only he had the key to understanding it. One minute she berated him for telling her too much and the next she is asking for more. He had a good mind to tell her to find out for herself but he suspected this was her olive branch.

"The train follows the valley which I think is the deepest in Switzerland. It gets more spectacular further up where the mountains get closer. This is a narrow gauge cog railway and we climb up almost a kilometre."

Barbara resumed her position and looked out the window. She seemed genuinely fascinated by the scenery and the tunnels and snow covers over the track. Tommy lent over her shoulder and pointed out some of the scenery. It was an innocent pose but he relished being physically closer to her. He could smell the fresh citrus in her hair and allowed his cheek to gently brush it. She was wearing it a little longer these days and he was tempted to sweep it back and kiss her neck. He shivered and with effort he brought his urges under control. "The town itself was little more than a farming village until the Matterhorn was first climbed in 1865. That brought tourism but it is still mainly rural. There are no cars up there so it is horses, a few electric delivery vans and walking."

"Oh, I assumed it would be a big town with hotels and pubs."

"It is bigger than you think and has plenty of those but in a sedate, Swiss way. Mother says the house we have rented is on the far end of town overlooking the Matterhorn. She told me it is a bit too modern for her taste. Lots of wood and glass I suspect. I do know it has large open fire and a sauna. Mother has put Judith in the master bedroom and after the ceremony William will join her but until then he has one of the small rooms. I have the other one and you and Mother have the other bigger bedrooms."

"I should have the smallest one. You're the Lord."

Tommy looked at her and seeing she was serious, laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. My precious poncy head will be quite comfortable anywhere. You're my guest. Mother knows what she is doing so don't insult her choices."

"No Sir. Sorry."

"And I don't suppose we could drop the Sir this weekend could we? You've known me for nearly a decade so I think you have heard my real name used once or twice. Perhaps you could use it too seeing we're holidaying together."

His head was still close to hers and it was so tempting to turn her face towards him but she was too fearful that her eyes would betray her. Barbara turned scarlet and hissed, "we are not holidaying together. I'm accompanying you to your sister's wedding. Anyway Sir seems natural."

"So when I am not with you do you think to yourself 'I must ask Sir' or do you think 'I must ask Tommy' or is it Lord Asherton or Mr Lynley?"

If it were possible she blushed more. Her ears burned as the blood filled them and she was amazed that he had not moved away from the radiant heat. "The DI probably," she muttered. It was a lie. She always thought of him as Tommy but saying it was one step too far.

"Right. I am not sure I want to be called 'The DI' all weekend. See if you can manage a Tommy or two but if not we might stick to Sir. Although I do rather fancy Your Lordship every now and again." He was not angry. It was a lost cause but at least he had asked. He had tumbled onto the key to getting her to come with him. He might just stumble on the next cipher key too. He wondered idly how many Enigma had used. Five perhaps? To give thousands of possible combinations. He sighed unconsciously.

Barbara felt his sigh and thought it was disappointment. "Yes Your Lordship or is that no?" she pondered cheekily to remove any further awkwardness.

"Touché Sergeant."

Tommy sat back in his seat as the train slowly wound up the mountain. Barbara's face was glued to the window and he watched her more than he looked at the view. She was amused by the village of St Niklaus and the way the train seemed to pass through its centre. The houses were like a scene from a Sound of Music with whitewashed ground floors tops by dark wooden rooms with small windows and bright red flowers growing in window boxes beneath them. The church tower was square with thin windows that betrayed the different levels. The gold Roman numerals on the black-faced clock twinkled in the noon sunlight which also made the red onion dome of the church gleam. "It's beautiful," she saw awestruck.

"Any sign of the man?" Tommy asked trying to rekindle conversation.

Her smile made his insides jump. "Thank you for bringing me Si...Your Lordship."

"You haven't had to put up with the family and especially Mother yet."

"No but I hadn't realised how stifling London can get at times. This makes you think about things very differently."

He looked deep into her eyes and his insides shifted again. There was just a hint that maybe his feelings were reciprocated. "Yes it does but it also makes things clearer."

The train plunged into darkness as they entered a tunnel. He felt Barbara jump and all the passengers went "oooooooo!". He grabbed her hand and lent across. "They do that every time." She squeezed his hand and then let go. They were back in daylight before he had stolen the kiss that he so desperately wanted. He cursed again that his timing was so poor.

Barbara stared at the Matterhorn as it came into view amongst the snow-capped mountains backlit by a cobalt sky. The sun reflected off the brilliant white cap spotlighting the familiar icy grey face. The scene was too swift to take in and she was disappointed as the mountain slipped from view. "I need a new word," she told Tommy.

"Why?"

"I must have used beautiful a hundred times today and it doesn't do justice to it."

"No is doesn't," he said looking at her glowing face, "for some beauty there are no words."

She nodded believing he was referring to the majestic mountain scenery but thinking that applied equally to his tender but tormented soul. She had no idea he was referring to her.