Judith found her mother in the kitchen. "Morning, Mother. Tommy not down yet?"

"I imagine my son has a hangover this morning. I heard him pacing most of the night."

"I'll go and check if you like."

Dorothy smiled. "Thank you. I think he sees me and closes off even more. He was always a solitary child, but this time... he's lonely. It's worse than when Helen died because then he had his guilt for company. Now he has nothing."

"I'm sure he has Barbara if he'd just talk to her."

Judith returned a few minutes later. "He's gone. He left this note. It just says he has returned to London and will be in touch."

"Has he taken the car? He's probably well over the limit."

"He has, but the bottles he had were unopened. I think he sobered himself up."

"We only hope he knows what he's doing."

Tommy had no clue what he was going to say. He had spent the night drinking coffee, taking cold showers, napping and breathing deeply in an attempt to sober up as quickly as he could. Lynley knew it was in vain and that his body would only process the alcohol at a set rate, but it had given him a focus. The pocket breathalyser that he now kept in his glovebox reassured him that he was just below the legal limit. In six hours when he reached London, he would be perfectly sober.

The drive seemed eternal. Roadworks around Bristol delayed him, and the ring road into London was bumper to bumper, even just before noon. He drove into Camden five minutes after one o'clock.

Before he rang her bell, Tommy stood on her doorstep for five minutes adjusting his clothes, smoothing his hair and getting his breathing under control. "Here goes."

"Coming," she called out from well inside her flat.

At least she was home. He knew she was rostered off for the next two days, but being a Thursday, he feared she might have been out running errands.

The door swung open. "Sir? What... why?"

"I'm sorry to arrive unannounced."

Barbara shook her head. "That's fine. Come in. Do you want tea or coffee?"

"Coffee?" he asked as he followed her into her flat.

"It's a hot black drink that you like."

"Yes, I know what it is. Sorry. Yes. Coffee would be lovely."

Barbara pointed to the coat hook, and the couch then busied herself in the kitchen boiling water and looking for two matching cups. "How's your mother?"

"Better," he lied. "Judith came down... so I... came back here."

She looked across and frowned. "We're not rostered on until Sunday. You could have stayed and spent more time there."

"I wanted to be here."

Barbara shrugged. She passed him a cup of steamy coffee. He sipped it and sighed. "Hmm, it's good. Just the way I like it."

"Well, I've made enough cups for you in recent years to know how you like it."

She screwed up her face as if in thought. Tommy felt he was being scrutinised, so broke the developing awkward silence. "What's been happening?"

"Not much. Look, Sir, I don't mind you coming over, but something is on your mind. Why don't we skip the small talk and you just tell me."

Tommy's ears burned. She had seen right through him as she always did. "I... I lied to you. Mother wasn't ill. I went to Howenstowe because I was... confused."

Barbara sat on the couch opposite his chair and tucked her feet up under her. She cradled her cup in both hands and took a noisy slurp before speaking. "About what?"

"You."

Barbara recoiled against the seat. "Me?"

"You..." Tommy took a deep breath. "You've been different lately. With me. You... you've been distant. I feel like you're slipping away. That I'm losing you. And... well, it's tearing me apart. I have never felt so alone."

Barbara's face changed. It moved from anger through to sadness in an instant. "I... we were spending too much time together. You were using me as a crutch."

Tommy shook his head. "I'm sorry if I was a burden. I thought we were friends."

"We were... are. I just thought we needed space."

Tommy scratched his eye but was wiping away unwanted moisture that was forming. He did not want Barbara to see him distressed, but he was not sober enough to invoke his defences. Her words had stung him. "We need space? I've heard that before when Helen left me."

"It's not the same."

Barbara's voice was low and quivered slightly. He looked up and saw the pain in her eyes. "Then what is it, Barbara? Why do you need space?"

She drank some of her coffee but watched him over the rim. Eventually, she replied. "You weren't socialising with anyone. You were spending all your time with me."

"Did you stop to think that was because I wanted to be with you?"

"I know you did, but I was safe. You needed more."

"Is that what you think? That I only spent time with you because I was scared to be with anybody else?"

Barbara closed her eyes. "Yeah. You weren't looking for... love. You had settled for companionship. And that's not what you need."

Tommy felt his heckles rise. "And you know this how?"

"Sir, Helen's been gone a long time now. You need someone. Someone special who understands you. Someone you can love. You weren't out looking while I was... your friend."

"You think I need someone special who understands me? Why, when I already have that?"

"But you don't have it... you need more than a best friend, Sir. I thought that if I stepped back, you could kickstart your life. Find someone who loves you."

"I see. So you don't I take it?"

"What?"

"Love me."

Barbara jumped from the couch and headed for the kitchen. "More coffee?"

Her voice was strained. "You didn't answer my question," Tommy called after her.

"You can't ask me that. It's not fair."

He stood and followed her to the kitchen. He put his cup on the bench and walked up behind her. "Why not?"

"Because..." She hung her head over the sink and sighed. "Because you know I do. You rely on that. You don't..." She stopped speaking when he put his hands on her shoulders.

"But I do."

"As a friend, yes, not as..." She turned and gave him a savage glare. Tears welled in her eyes. "Why did you come here?"

"Because I missed you. I had never felt more lonely than when you started backing away. I need you as much as I need air or water. I don't need anyone else because I love you. As my friend but also as far more than a friend. I've known it for years, but I told myself it was friendship, or like my family, or any other excuse to avoid facing reality."

"Don't."

"Barbara, am I not being clear enough? I do love you those ways, but I am also in love with you, in a romantic sense. A sexual sense. Every damned sense. Am I making a complete fool of myself?"

Barbara looked down. "Yeah."

Tommy let his hands drop and stepped back. "I see."

When she looked up, tears started to roll down her cheeks. "Not for that reason, you idiot. Just because... look at us, standing in my kitchen saying things I never dreamt I would hear from you. Me about to tell you that..."

Tommy stepped towards her. He was still unsure what she was going to say, but he sensed she was struggling to find the words.

"Promise me that you mean it, Tommy. Really mean it."

He could not help but smile at the way she said his name. The world felt alive again. "I swear, Barbara. I mean every word."

She inhaled slowly. He took a step closer, ready to pull her into his arms. He understood how hard it was to admit something that had stayed suppressed for years.

"I've...I've loved you when I shouldn't have, Tommy, and so... I don't deserve to have you."

Tommy put his arms around her, resting his hands on her shoulder blades, but did not pull her close. Not yet. Not until she had said everything she needed to say. "Why not? You deserve a medal for loving me after all I've put you through."

"You don't understand. I fell in love with you years ago. Before..."

"Before Helen?"

Barbara looked away. "Yes. I wanted to hate you, but I didn't. Even that first day when your heart was breaking over Deborah. You were so... sad. I fell for that vulnerable, caring, sentimental side of you, and then during the case, I began to love you for your mind and sense of justice. When you supported me, listened to me, treated as... well not an equal, but at least as a trusted partner, I just kept falling deeper and deeper. And yes, being easy on the eye didn't hurt either."

"Easy on the eye. I think I should be flattered."

"Don't get too big a head."

" I won't. That's one of the things I love about you. You stood up to me. No one had before, and I needed it. You never treated me like a rich kid playing at my job. I appreciated that. So many dismissed my intentions, but you understood me. I just never realised what it meant. I had a distorted image of what love was supposed to be. I was wrong. Your love was tangible, at least in hindsight. I'm sorry."

Barbara nodded. "And all these years, you never suspected how I felt?"

"I did, but I categorised it as the same lofty ideal I had about how I felt about you. Love, yes it was, but I had a romanticised version of some higher connection that existed outside of the traditional romantic bounds."

"Yeah, see that's the issue, Tommy. You've never fancied me. Even now. I still think you are more in love with the idea of being in love than you are with me."

He shook his head. "Simply not true. I didn't believe something that came so easily could be that type of love. But I did... do fancy you as you put it. A lot actually. I tried hard not to, but I did. I used to have dreams about making love to you."

"You did? Were we any good together?" For the first time, she smiled at him. Just a small grin, but it went straight to his heart, and his groin.

He matched her with a broad, cheeky grin. "Oh, yes. Most definitely."

They stood looking at each other, trying to confirm their words in each other's eyes. Barbara took the final quarter step that brought her into his arms. As her body touched him, he felt a wave of contentment rippling from his feet to his ears. He enfolded her in his arms and held her close. Her heartbeat reverberated against his chest. He smiled harder because the rhythm matched his - their hearts were beating as one.

It took him a few seconds to realise they were kissing. Their faces had come together automatically. Again, their mouths moved in a natural rhythm as if they had been kissing each other for years. Yet it was not mundane or formulaic. They just instinctively knew what each other wanted and liked.

They rested her foreheads together, panting. "Tommy?"

He caressed her neck and moved his fingers softly through her hair. "Mmm?"

"Before we... do anything irrevocable, is this what you want? Me? Rough edges and all? Are you sure? I'm not what people expect of you. I'm..."

"The woman I love. I don't care about the rest. Yes, this is what I want. You are everything to me, Barbara. But is it what you want? Will I make you happy?"

Barbara took his hand. "You always have. Should we...?"

Tommy kissed her forehead then shook his head. "Yes, but not here. Let's go somewhere special. We only have one first time together. I want it to be something you always treasure."

Barbara ran her fingers down his face. He shivered. He had never wanted anything quite as much as he wanted Barbara. "It will be, here or anywhere."

"Paris."

"France?"

"Mmm, last time I checked. Or we could fly to Las Vegas and be married."

"Tommy! Slow down."

He grinned at her. "Sorry, but..." He looked at her and saw his feelings mirrored. "I'm happy. For the first time in years, I'm truly happy."

Barbara gave him a beautiful, open smile and began to lead him to her room. "We don't need to go to Paris, or even the Savoy. All we need is each other."