November 1993

Chris stared miserably into his drink. He'd come to a cocktail bar in Leeds, way off his usual haunts. He didn't feel like bumping into any of his drinking buddies. Tonight, he just wanted to be alone, and feel sorry for himself.

He'd been so sure that Kathy was having an affair. He'd made a fool of himself, storming over to confront Josh. In some ways it had been easier to blame the failure of his marriage on a third party. Between his rows with Kathy, Zoe telling him she was a lesbian and his failure to start his own business, independent of Frank, the past year had been one of the worst of his life. At least there were only a couple of months left.

"New year, new start," he mumbled drunkenly to himself.

"Can I help you?" said a voice. He looked up to see a pretty blonde in her early twenties, dressed in the uniform that the waitresses wore here. She resembled Kathy in a way, he thought. No, actually, it was Kim she resembled.

"Only if you've got a cure for failure." He replied, despondent.

"I'm sure it can't be that bad." The blonde leaned in, "you're not exactly a down and out."

"Ha, not yet." Chris scoffed, gulping back more whisky. "Put another in there."

The blonde glanced at the barman, nodding.

"You can tell me anything, you know."

"I bet you say that to all the losers who end up here." He drained the glass.

"You should take it easy."

"Why? Not like I've got anything to care about."

The waitress hopped onto the stool beside him, noticing his ring.

"Anyway, what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" He slurred.

She laughed at the cliche. "A girl's gotta earn a living somehow," she said in a faux American drawl. "Does your wife know you're here?" She nodded at his wedding ring.

"I doubt she'd care," he replied, twisting the ring around his finger.

"Oh, not a happy home then?"

"Trust me, don't ask."

"I hate to see a man sad."

"Perhaps you can make my evening better." Chris reached for her hand, stroking it.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Christopher. Chris." He corrected.

"I'm Sadie." She smiled at him.

"Let me buy you a drink." He pulled a wad of cash out of his wallet.

"Uh, thank you, but um..." She glanced away at her boss, a seedy-looking man in the shadows, with a goatee beard, "boss won't like it."

"It's just a drink. Surely he wants you please the customer?" Chris drawled.

"Really, I shouldn't." Sadie got up, tucking a long strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Thought you were all independent thinkers now?" Chris mused, "my wife—"

"Ssh. You're not with her now. You're here." Sadie hushed him, soothingly.

"What time do you get off?" he asked, eyeing her.

"Half an hour." She shrugged.

"I'll take you somewhere then?" Chris offered blindly.

Sadie was stunned, but genuinely felt sorry for him.

"Where do you have in mind?" She smiled.

He hesitated. "Hotel?"

"I'm not — I mean—"

"I'm not paying you for service." He told her curtly, "I wouldn't like to get you into trouble for breaking the rules."

"Funny," Sadie mused, a wicked glint in her eyes, whispering into his ear, "that's my favourite part."

"There are other customers." The man with the goatee hissed over her shoulder.

"Bet he loves keeping you around." Chris swivelled on the stool.

"I'll be back." Sadie assured him, kissing his cheek. "Wait for me?"

He managed to nod, feeling heavily intoxicated.

He watched her walk away, her hips swaying in rhythm to the music as she propped drinks on the bar and went about her tasks, offering him a secret smile in between.

By the time she returned his head was clear enough. He knew exactly what he doing. He wanted her.

"Let's go." He stood, swaying slightly from the earlier drinks but remaining on his feet as she took his hand.

"Are you sure you can walk?" She asked.

"Since I was a kid." Chris responded.

"Ha ha." Sadie shrugged on her coat as they left the bar. "So, you're obviously a man of taste and wit—"

"Flattery." Christopher shook his head, "but unworthy. I'm a businessman," he said, still a little slurred. "I have my own haulage company."

"That must be profitable around here," she said, thinking of the notes in his wallet.

"My father became a millionaire through his haulage business. I thought I could follow in his footsteps, but..." He trailed off.

Sadie sensed a weakness within him.

"You don't need your dad's business, surely? Anyway, we're not talking about him. We're talking about you."

"What's to say about me?"

"Hmm..." Sadie stopped, "well, I might go so far as to call you a gentleman, the fact that you haven't made a move on me. Most leeches grab and cling. Perks of the job, I suppose?" She shrugged.

"What about this?" He held up his hand to show his wedding ring.

"She obviously doesn't appreciate you." Sadie said, clasping her hand over his.

"No, she doesn't." He shook his head.

"Then take it off. Just for tonight." She suggested.

He thought for a moment, then shrugged and twisted the ring off, putting it in his pocket.

"That's better."

"You're persuasive." He noted.

"I'm a lot of things." Sadie replied sweetly, her eyes flashing in a way that reminded him of Kim. She moved up the steps outside a posh-looking hotel.

Chris squinted in his slightly drunk state.

"Not going to let me catch cold out here, are you?" Sadie swung her body in her short fitted mackintosh coat.

He stumbled up the steps after her. They passed through the doors, into the lobby, and approached reception.

"Room for two, please," he said to the receptionist.

"Name?"

"Mr and Mrs Frank Tate."

Sadie stole a glance at him. Tate. She knew that name.

"Make it a suite, actually." Chris put down his wallet on the desk, eyes roving over Sadie.

"Of course, sir. Madam? Your luggage?"

"Oh, spontaneous decision." Chris advised quickly.

"You'll find everything to your satisfaction, sir. The Montague Suite." The concierge placed the key on the desk.

Chris took it.

"Oh I'm sure I will." He smiled at Sadie.

Once they got up to the room, Chris began to feel panicked, even before the door closed. What was he doing here? If Kathy found out she'd never forgive him. Sadie settled herself on a couch, her legs stretched to their full length.

"I shouldn't be here," he said, the beginning of a hangover kicking in.

"Neither should I." She agreed, standing up, sighing. "Is it your wife?" she asked. He didn't reply. "I thought she didn't appreciate you."

"I thought she was having an affair," he confessed. "But I was wrong."

"Well, the fact that you thought something was going on has to mean something... doesn't it?" Sadie suggested lightly, moving closer, her hand moving to his chest. "People drift apart. It happens... but you know what, we find other people... better people." She went on, rubbing his shoulders tenderly, "you are such an attractive man, Chris." Her voice was a whisper.

"I can't imagine why you would want me after what I've just told you?"

"Ssh." Sadie placed her finger on his lips, "you're thinking about her. It's weighing you down. You don't need that burden, Chris."

"No, I don't."

"I'm here, for you." She kissed him and gently pulled away, awaiting his reaction.

He could never claim to love Sadie, not like Kathy, not even now, but Sadie was there. She was flattering, charming. He picked her up in his arms, kissing her passionately.

Sadie kissed him back with the same yearning, caught in the moment.

…

Early December 1993

"What the hell are you doing here?" Chris demanded, standing up in fury at the sight of Sadie in front of him. He had been so disgusted at himself for his behaviour on that night. Coming home to Kathy the following day, he was filled with regret.

"It's alright, I didn't tell your receptionist." Sadie responded, digging her hands into the pockets of her mac. She looked different without the heavy makeup and flirty waitress uniform.

"Good. Well that's something." Chris strode and shut the door. "What do you want?"

"I need to tell you..." She started, trying to put the words together.

"Christopher, you're needed." Frank opened the door.

"Alright, Dad, I'll be there in a sec." Chris told him curtly, waiting until his father had left and the door was closed before continuing. "So?"

"It's okay. I just wanted to say, thanks."

"You came all this way to thank me for sleeping with you?"

"I—"

"Well, tart like you, I don't suppose it matters about the repercussions." He folded his arms.

Sadie gulped back her hurt.

"You don't expect anything more, I hope? I mean, it was fun and it certainly helped me to put things into perspective." He ran his eyes over her, "what is it you want, really, Sadie?" He opened his desk drawer, taking out his wallet. "Money?"

"I didn't do this for the money, you know that? Benny wanted me to fleece you in the club. But I didn't, because I actually felt genuinely sorry for you."

Chris laughed, a hollow, callous sound.

"Oh, Sadie, Sadie." He shook his head, smirking, "you can stop with the act. How much do you want to walk out that door and never come back?"

"I don't need your money."

"Correction, yes, you do." Chris opened his wallet, taking out a chequebook, "but I won't be your walking meal ticket. So you take this and you never contact me again."

He scribbled an amount on the cheque and signed it, handing it to Sadie.

"A thousand pounds?" She gawped at it.

"With my compliments." Chris stood up and walked to the door. "I think you have everything you need. Don't bother to call."

Sadie scoffed at him.

"Men like you..."

"Will always win. Bye Sadie." He closed the door on her.

…

July 2018

The day after Georgie's visit, Joe sat alone in his office. He had sent the online DNA test off as promised, so he would soon know the truth of her claim to be a Tate.

He could almost believe it. Looking at the photo she had provided for Waterhouse International, he could see hints of himself there, drawn from Chris's features.

He might doubt it superficially, but if it was true, it shed a whole new light on his Dad and Kathy's relationship.

Sitting in front of his computer, an idea suddenly occurred to Joe. He couldn't ask his father about the supposed fling with Sadie, or Zoe for that matter. But there was someone else he could ask.

He checked the time. It would be early evening in Australia. Opening his laptop, he went into his Skype contacts and pressed call next to his Auntie Kathy's photo.

She answered after a few rings. "Hi, Joseph!" She was lying on a deck chair, it looked like she was holding her phone above her head. "How are you?"

"I'm okay, thanks." He smiled warmly at her.

"I haven't heard from you in ages."

"Yeah, I know..." Joe felt a flicker of guilt.

"Where are you? Still in England?"

"Yeah. Actually, I'm in Emmerdale. I bought back Home Farm."

"You're kidding?" She gasped. "Wow. Your dad would be so proud."

"It was Dad I wanted to talk to you about, actually." He might as well get straight to the point.

"Of course. You know you can always ask me about your parents."

Joe hesitated, not sure how to proceed. "You were married for what, three years?"

"Yes. We were happy together for a while..."

"How did you forgive Dad, for the affair with Mum?" Joe blurted out. "How did you stay friends with them?"

Kathy looked surprised at the question. She pulled herself into a sitting position. "Well. Your father needed someone after the plane crash. Your mum was a good friend to him..."

"Couldn't you have helped him?" Joe tried not to sound accusatory.

Kathy paused. "He was very angry, after being paralysed. He wouldn't listen to me, Zoe, your grandfather. Rachel got through to him somehow."

"What was your marriage like, before the accident?" Joe asked.

"It was difficult," she admitted. "We'd been growing apart for a while."

"Did he have any other affairs, that you knew about?"

"God, no." She looked shocked.

"So what were you arguing about?"

Kathy took a deep breath. "He was gambling a lot, and drinking. He was obsessed with work. I think he always wanted to prove that he was just as good as his father..."

Joe nodded. That sounded like the man he remembered.

"Why are you asking all this now?" said Kathy curiously.

"No reason," Joe lied. "I've just been thinking about him a lot lately."

Kathy nodded. "You look just like him, you know. You sound like him too." She smiled. "How's Zoe?"

"Oh, fine." Joe avoided the question. "I've got Jean living with me here. She's 15 now."

"15?" Kathy exclaimed. "Where does the time go?"

"How's Alice? Joe asked. He tuned out mentally as Kathy began telling him what her niece was up to these days.

"Mmm. That's great. Give her my best. Anyway, I'd best get back to work."

"Good to talk to you, Joseph. Call again soon."

"I will. Bye."

"Bye. Bye."