A/N: I'd written most of this chapter before a certain young lady made her unexpected arrival but now the one handed typing and editing is underway :D

Chapter Eleven

It felt as though it had been a lifetime since they were last in the flat.

As Alex turned the key in the lock to let Kim inside she felt a sinking in her heart. She'd left the flat the Saturday before, truly believing that Manchester would see her route home. She hadn't expected to see the place again. She tried to keep her disappointment and her lonely yearning for Gene and her home at bay. Now they were back on familiar territory she would start again and work out what they needed to do next.

"There you go," she said, stepping back to let Kim pass her.

Kim wished she hadn't done that. It was easier to walk behind people. That way others didn't have to watch her walking slowly and awkwardly. She hated that. She held one arm across her chest as though to keep her ribs as still as possible. It was stupid, it didn't really help but she found herself doing it anyway.

"Ma'am?" she began, "I know that you'd rather be elsewhere, but you do know this place is still your home, as long as you need it, right?"

Alex gave her a slightly sad smile.

"Thank you, Kim," she said, "And yes, I know."

Kim moved slowly to the lounge and switched on the light. It was at least comforting to be back on familiar territory but being there without Robin felt wrong and heart-breaking. She wasn't sure how she was going to sleep in their bed on her own that night.

"It's so strange being here without him," she said quietly.

Alex wished there was something she could say. With no words of comfort to offer she did the next best thing – the British thing –

"I'll put the kettle on," she said.

"It's OK," Kim told her, "I'll do it."

"You sit down," Alex told her, "for god's sake. You've been running around after me for the last month, I think this is a pretty good reason to start paying you back a little."

Kim hated the thought of anyone running around after her, let alone Alex who she knew had been through the mill during their trip to Manchester for so many different reasons, but she was too exhausted to put up much of a fight. She even allowed Alex to gently push her onto the couch, despite throwing her a bit of a glare. It was strange how the tables had turned. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on her.

She leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment, silently begging herself not to fall asleep. It had been a very long day, starting with final checks and examinations to make sure Robin was stable enough to make the journey back to Fenchurch. She'd been allowed to travel with him and hadn't let go of his hand once during the journey, aside from needing to make a rude gesture at someone for suggesting she close her eyes and try to get some rest for a while.

After arriving at Fenchurch general she'd stayed as long as she'd been permitted while they organised his room in ICU and carried out an identical set of checks to see how he'd fared on the journey. Eventually they'd insisted that she leave for a while. With doctors concerned about her own condition she was told to come back in the morning and despite another round or rude gestures she finally had to give in to exhaustion and comply.

As Alex was still unable to drive and she had been reluctant to leave the Fiat in Manchester when it was her strongest link with home, especially after her strange encounter sleeping on the back seat a few nights before, she had managed to charm Hayley into driving the car back for her and dropping her down too. Hayley felt truly terrible about Robin's condition, even though the last thing she had expected was to be raided that day. Taking Alex and the car back to London helped to appease her slightly.

"Plus I get to see some of London while I'm here," she'd told Alex on the drive, "I don't really get around much. Too busy with work."

Alex remembered the last person who'd been able to see a bit of London – poor Nelson after the Railway Arms was 'broken'. She wondered exactly how much money he'd lost on souvenirs that day.

Now they were back on home territory at least some progress had been made. The fact that Robin had been strong enough to make the journey had given Kim a boost and Alex had been reunited with her flipchart. That was an important step towards working out where things would go from there.

She switched on the light in her room as she waited for the kettle to boil and peered inside. There were boxes full of her packed belongings on the floor. She felt her heart breaking as she remembered how she'd felt packing them away, not long ago. Her eyes rose to the flipchart, her list of days. Now what? She would have to start all over again.

As she heard the kettle finish boiling she turned over the sheet to find a blank piece of paper. That made her feel a little better. Fresh start. New strategy. In the middle of the page she wrote 'Home'. That was all she needed for now. In her mind, she had already started to forge a new plan.

She returned to the kitchen and made two coffees, then took them through to the lounge.

"I'm not asleep," Kim said quickly, raising her head as it had been lolling.

"You can sleep if you want," Alex told her.

"I don't want to," said Kim.

"You probably need to."

"I'll sleep later," said Kim.

Alex sat opposite her. Her eyes rose to the still clock on the wall; the one Robin had never been able to get started again. Everything seemed to have been pointing in one direction.

"Why am I not with him?"

Kim's sad words caught Alex's attention.

"Pardon?"

"Why am I not over there with him?" she asked quietly, "my watches have been stopping too. I got knocked down just after he got shot. To me it feels like I'm supposed to be there if he is, Ma'am."

Alex could see from the look on Kim's face that this was something she'd been dwelling on. It made a kind of sense when she thought about it too. She wished she had some answers for her but that was something that only fate knew.

"I'm sorry, Kim," she said quietly, "I don't know. Maybe you should have been over with him but something went wrong. Maybe it was as simple as the fact that Robin took my place and I'd have been going alone. Maybe you have a job to do here, Kim. Something important. Whatever the reason, Robin will get back here, just like I'll find my way back there." Time had messed up, Alex was certain of that. She just had to find a way to help it untangle itself. Her immediate priorities were to make sure Kim had a proper meal at last, get her to admit she needed sleep, put her to bed and spend some quality time with her flipchart. "Now, listen. I know that it's been a difficult day but now you're out of hospital you've got to get your strength back. That means sleeping and eating."

"My favourite chef is laying in hospital in a coma," Kim said quietly, "I'd rather be with him than eat anything."

"I don't think Mini-Kim will agree with you on that one," said Alex, "I'm going to make you something, like it or not. What do you want?"

Kim hesitated. She really didn't have an appetite but she knew she had to be sensible. She sighed as she tried to think of any kind of food that didn't turn her stomach. Finally she bit her lip.

"Have we got any beans?" she asked innocently.

~xXx~

Arthur Layton paced up and down in his cell like a wild animal about to snap. He wanted for all the world to go to the hollow gap he'd found in his bedframe and extract from it the substances he'd hoarded so far, but he managed to resist. He knew that he didn't quite have enough. Not for his own personal taste. Not for his own needs. Not after years of pumping the stuff into his body and letting it control his highs and lows, his drives, his mind. He needed to acquire a little more and then he'd have his hit, his night to end all nights. He couldn't wait for that moment, but for now he was just about managing to hold back his urge.

It wasn't just the desperation for the drugs that was driving him crazy but his whole situation. The closer his trial came, the angrier he found himself about his predicament. Of course he'd done plenty to warrant it. He'd caused so much misery throughout his life in various ways. The charges he faced for blackmail and bribery, for shooting Alex Drake in the head and for attempting to extort money from a beard model were all well deserved. He couldn't argue with that.

But there were other charges. Unfair allegations. Things he couldn't possibly have done.

He remembered the car accident. He remembered driving at speed from the confrontation upon the roof. He remembered how lucky he'd been that Evan had left his car open and the keys sat in the ignition. He also remembered how it felt when he saw an animal run out onto the road and instinctively put his foot down on the brake, only for nothing to happen. He remembered swerving, spinning, running out of control until finally the crash, the crash that sent him into a coma. He lost time; weeks, months even and woke to find intense security around him and a whole new set of charges he had no memory of.

An interloper had borrowed his body for a joyride in the meanwhile. But Layton wasn't to know that. He wasn't to know that for a while he'd shared his crumbling body with an interloper who held even more evil within his soul than Layton did himself. Now he found himself charged with things that he couldn't imagine ever doing – kidnap, abduction of a minor, attempted rape, GBH, ABH and even manslaughter.

Layton knew his limits. There were some things he just wouldn't – or couldn't – do.

But there were witnesses. Many witnesses. There was CCTV footage. There was evidence coming out of every orifice of the situation and even Layton couldn't argue when he saw himself on the security footage, committing various acts that he had no memory of.

The first glimmer of hope for him had come that afternoon when his lawyer visited him with news.

"One of the key witnesses in your trial, Police Chief Inspector Robin Thomas, was shot in a raid on a jewellery shop last weekend and he's in a critical condition. It is highly unlikely that – if he survives – he will be able to give evidence at your trial. The doctors aren't even rating his chances at regaining consciousness very highly."

That had been the first piece of good news Layton had been given in months. When coupled with the fact that another main witness, Kim Stringer, had also been injured and would be a far weaker witness than previously thought things were finally looking up, despite the fact that the recently recovered Alex Drake would be giving evidence about her shooting. at least he knew he'd done that. He could get on board with being charged for crimes he was guilty of. It was the ones that he could never have done that angered him.

But even so, the good news was too little, too late. An already disturbed mind had been slowly twisted and tortured by accusations that made no sense and made him want to hide forever. As the wild pacing continued anyone could see that he was close to snapping. Anyone, except for Arthur Layton.

~xXx~

Kim struggled through half a plateful of beans on toast before she tried to push the tray away.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, I'm just not hungry," she protested, her anxiety about Robin's first night in Fenchurch General making her feel sick.

"Come on Kim, the whole of London knows when you're hungry," sighed Alex, "your stomach could rumble for Fenchurch. Just try to eat a bit more."

"Maybe the beans weren't such good idea," Kim mumbled, every bite reminding her of the person who was conspicuous by his absence. Out of the corner of her eye a picture on the TV caught her attention and her eyes widened, "Shit, Ma'am, look, it's Evan!" with a fork flailing in the air she asked, "can you turn it up?"

They hadn't really been watching the news; it had just been on in the background in an attempt to distract them from more serious thoughts and worries, but it hadn't worked. However, the cheesy – and deceptively disembodied – image of Evan's head had certainly caught their attention.

"What's going on?" Alex shuddered as she turned the sound up.

"…in other news, support is mounting for Beard Relief," the newsreader told his audience, "…the one-off television charity spectacular being held to bring funding and support for former beard model Evan White. Mister White was a respected solicitor and an admired beard model until a couple of minor misdemeanours saw him sent to prison and clean-shaven every day. It is now thought that the compulsory shaving – despite a being a traditional punishment for shamed beard models – is a breach of his human rights and the event is to be held to raise funds to take his plight further…"

"A traditional punishment for beard models?" Kim swallowed hard to prevent her dinner making a fast escape, "how many of the damn things are there?"

"I have no idea," even Alex was looking green around the gills, "honestly, Kim, before I was shot Evan concentrated on law and law alone. The beard model career was as much as a shock to me as anyone."

"Beard relief – also dubbed Evan In Need – will be a seven hour live television extravaganza," the newsreader continued, "and will feature fellow beard supporters such as Noel Edmonds, ZZ Top and the surviving members of the BeeGees adding their voices to those supporting Evan's Right to Facial Hair. Plastic beards, rivalling sales of Red Noses for Comic Relief, have been flying off the shelves of stores and supermarkets countrywide –"

"I think that's enough of that," Alex shuddered, switching off the TV as incredibly creepy images of members of the public in plastic facial hair – as well as one extremely large beard placed on the front of a car - graced the screen.

Kim pushed her tray away and curled up into a ball.

"Well that's that then," she said, "not only am I not eating any more of this but I'm not eating again, ever."

Alex had to agree.

"I understand," she said, "I have a feeling food sales will be falling dramatically until the event is over."

"All the more money to buy fake beards with, I suppose," Kim commented, gagging slightly.

~xXx~

It had taken a while for Alex to convince Kim to go to bed.

First of all, Kim hadn't wanted to go because she didn't want to be alone in the bed she shared with Robin. Then Kim had refused because she was terrified of having nightmares about Evan. But finally when her eyelids wouldn't stay open Alex had ordered her off to bed and no sooner had her head hit the pillow than she was asleep and dreaming.

Alex retired to her own room, sighing again as she saw the boxes. Now she would have to unpack them to find her bedclothes and anything else she needed. There was one thing still out though – the pen that sat beside the flipchart.

She lifted it and removed the lid. Home, it said in the middle of the paper.

She knew she had to get there. Her first try had failed, but she wasn't going to give up. Around the board she added a few words; threads of ideas she needed to focus on.

Fiat – Gene – newspaper – drugs?

Manchester – plan failed? – Hayley – Gene plaque

Robin – needs to wake up – what does he need to do over there?

Kim – job to do here? – Something important?

Evan – Beard – Scary – Need to ban beard related telethon?

For now, that was as much as she had, but even writing those words felt like a start.

"This is phase two, Gene," she said quietly, "I might be late, but I'll be back. Just hold on."

~xXx~

A/N: Thank you so much for the lovely messages and good wishes – they are much appreciated :) So far so good, we're all doing well and Kimberley has fitted into the family as though she's always been here! While I'm still in a slight state of shock about the way she arrived I am just so glad that she arrived safely, even if she did it on her own schedule! :D Thank you again for all your kind thoughts x x x