Chapter 15: Surprises

Mark relaxed in the back of the shop, debating which of his paintings to put up next. Ben was in the front, manning the till. His shop had been doing well recently, and even though he had stockpiled paintings for years, the canvases in the back were starting to dwindle. There was one that had remained in the back for ten years, ever since they had first set up the shop. He debated about just setting the canvas up in the shop, but for some reason, he couldn't get rid of it. He'd moved on all those years ago, but still clung on to the painting.

Mark had no idea why it was. Part of him still thought that the painting had to go to her. But the other part knew that her finding his little shop was highly unlikely.

He stood, grabbing a painting and taking it to the front. The bell tinkled as Sarah walked through the door and smiled at him. He smiled back, going over to kiss her.

"Gross," Ben said, sitting behind the till.

"Icky!" Emma called at them, her mischievous grin identical to her father's.

Sarah laughed, and walked over to her granddaughter, picking her up and swinging her in the air. Emma squealed delightedly. She looked over at Mark and he started to make faces at her, causing Emma to wrap her arms around Sarah's neck and burrow her face into her grandmother's shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Sarah asked, laughing. "Don't you want to go to the park?"

Emma's face reappeared immediately and she nodded vigorously. "Let's get you upstairs to get ready then."

With that, Sarah walked upstairs, and Mark knew that it would be ages before he saw them again. He hadn't realised the patience needed for small children until Emma came along. No doubt as soon as they got upstairs, Emma would want to play with any and every toy she could. Then would be the matter of getting her dressed right; Emma's clothing of choice was nothing at all. They knew she would grow out of it, but it was still irritating, and Mark had found that he wasn't as able to deal with Emma as Sarah. So Sarah was the one who would get her ready, and he was going to finish getting new paintings up in the shop. He started to hang the paintings, his attention caught by someone stopping by the window. He looked over, to see a brunette woman starting to turn away.

He caught the profile and slight widening of her eyes, before Alex was completely turned towards Gene, shaking her head of the thought that he knew had crossed her mind. She had thought it was him.

Mark put his face in his hands, remembering the conversation he had had with Sarah after their fight a month earlier. She and Alex had never had a coffee together; Sarah had told him that she didn't want to have a fight so soon.

"I don't want to ruin our marriage," she said, lying in bed after they made up. "I've never had a fight like that with you before and it's not something I want to experience again. I don't want to lose you."

Mark had given a small, sad smile, looking down at the foot of the bed, where Nero had jumped after Sarah had opened the door to let him in. He was thinking, and Sarah knew, so did not try to interrupt him.

"You know that Mark Evans died so that it'd give a reasonable excuse for why he disappeared. All those people I've lied to, they're all slowly finding out. Mum knows, Harry knows...Alex and Gene, they were at the top of the list of people I was escaping from."

He fell silent again, thinking. "You know the cliché goes that you can't run from your past. I thought that not having a past...since Arthur Newton doesn't have a past...but I still can't run from Mark Evans'. I've run into Alex...well our dogs have run into Gene twice in Hyde Park. I have a feeling that one day, they're just going to walk into the shop and say 'hello, how've you been? We've actually known for eighteen years where you've been.'"

"Don't be silly. They don't know you're alive. If they did, they wouldn't have named their son Mark."

"And that makes me feel worse. They named their child after me because they thought I was dead. Now I pop up and I'm not."

"No," Sarah said firmly. "You keep forgetting Arthur, that Mark Evans is dead. You're a completely different man than you were eighteen years ago, and if you had stayed Mark Evans, you'd be a completely than you are now. You aren't him."

Mark smiled at her, pulling her into his bare chest. "Tell you what. If Alex Drake ever peers into my shop window, I'll go say hello to her. And hell, I buy Gene that beer that I owe him."

Sarah laughed. "That'll never happen. The chances of her finding your shop are one in a million."

Mark smiled back. "Exactly."

And now, only a month later, here she was, outside his shop. He hesitated as they crossed the street, going into the pub that was across from his shop. No, there wasn't time now. Instead, he headed to the back room, where there phone was, dialling the number for the pub.

"Black Lion, Paul speaking."

"Hi Paul, Arthur."

"Hi, why are you ringing me?"

"That couple that just came in with the two kids, you see them?"

"Dark haired, good looking woman with a blondish man?"

"Yeah, that's them. Listen, give the man a beer."

"What kind? In case you've forgotten, we've got rather a lot of them."

Mark thought a moment before telling Paul Gene's favourite beer and promising to pay him later. The man hung up cheerfully, and Mark went to the back, writing onto a sheet of paper. He walked over to the painting, the one that he was only just debating hanging up to sell. He turned it around, pulling off the envelope he had bound there with sellotape. He opened the flap of the old and aged envelope, and pulled out the yellowed sheet of paper. He put it on top of the new sheet, stuffing the envelope with both sheets, sealing it and writing Alex's name on the front.

He walked out front to Ben, handing him the envelope. Ben frowned. "What's this?"

"Do you remember that picture I painted of Alex, all those years ago?"

Ben nodded. "Yeah."

"She's going to be in a little later, and I think your Mum and I should be gone by then. Give this to her, and the painting too."

Ben stared at Mark disbelievingly. "You seriously think she's going to be in?"

Mark smiled and nodded. "I'm certain."

Ben simply nodded. Mark could tell that Ben still didn't believe him, but he knew that he was right. After Gene received his drink, there was no way that they wouldn't be in.

He continued to pass the time by hanging up paintings, until Sarah came down, saying that she'd ordered a taxi. He was confused. Why on earth would she be ordering a taxi? However, Mark's stopped dead in the back when he heard Ben speak.

"It's...it's you."

"What?" Alex's voice made his heart nearly stop. She was in his shop, something he'd never expected.

The conversation continued and Ben came to the back. "You're still here," he said, surprised.

Mark nodded. "Your mum wants to go somewhere and she hasn't told me where. We're getting a cab. But Emma's all dressy."

Ben frowned. "Weird.

At that moment, Sarah entered into the back. "What's going on?" she asked cheerfully. "Family meeting?"

Mark shook his head. "Guess who's in the front of the shop?" he asked, as Ben grabbed the painting with a look of uncertainty.

Sarah looked from Ben to Mark in disbelief. "No..." she said.

Mark nodded.

"Did you...?"

"He's giving her the painting and a letter. We'll see what they say," he said, as a taxi beeped its horn outside. They walked out, and Mark looked in the window as Sarah got in the taxi. Alex was looking out the window, holding his letter in disbelief. Gene's back was still turned to him.

Mark smiled and winked at her, getting into the taxi and shutting the door, turning to Sarah and Emma.

"So where are we going?"

"You'll find out when we get there," Sarah replied, smirking. Mark knew immediately that this was going to be something that he would protest against vehemently, but Sarah was going to make him do anyway.

"Well, why is Emma dressed up?" he asked, knowing how Sarah would react immediately. As expected, she just smiled and shook her head.

"You'll see when we get there," she repeated, much to his frustration.

Going on a journey without knowing where you were going was frustrating. To mark, it seemed to take forever. Much to his happiness, however, Emma was behaving herself. Part of this, he figured was that Sarah had brought along her bear, Mr. Tiddles, and a handful of sweets.

"Another?" Emma asked, looking up through her lashes at Sarah, her dark eyes begging for another sweet.

"No more," Sarah said kindly. "Not until after dinner."

Emma started to pout and Mark could sense a tantrum coming on. He smiled at her, pulling her onto his lap and kissing her head. He knew that sitting on his lap would calm her. She loved to sit with Papa.

Mark relaxed, letting Emma snuggle up to him. He held her, letting his mind wander. Why was it that Alex Drake kept reappearing in his life? Eighteen years. It had been eighteen years since he had disappeared. But here he was, revealing himself to her. What effect would this have on Alex? Was he even doing the right thing? Had he done the right thing all those years ago? Was he right by pretending to die?

He thought back to her case. If he was going to name it like a Friends episode, it would be 'The One Where Mark Royally Screwed Up."

Mark sighed. Sarah really watched too much of that show. He would be glad when she stopped. He was very tired of hearing her declare that Ross and Rachel were meant for each other.

He shook his head. He was totally off topic now. He glanced out the window, looking at the Eye as they crossed Westminster Bridge before returning to his previous train of thought.

The case. He had screwed up the case. He had screwed up the case because he couldn't bear the thought of Alex hating him. After all these years, he still had no idea why. Why had he not been able to distance himself?

Sarah brushed up against him and smiled, her bright blue eyes twinkling. And then suddenly it struck him.

He remembered back to the day he had first seen Alex Drake. He remembered her looking at him, her hazel eyes hollow pits, except for a dull fire of rage that flickered deep within them. He knew in that moment that he had seen the depths of despair. He knew that he had seen someone who longed for death with everery breath she took. The ultimate despair that she radiated had struck him in a way that no one else ever had before. Nothing else had struck him like that since, either.

"We're here," Sarah said, grinning hugely at him. Mark knew that grin meant trouble. He definitely was not going to like was was about to happen. He looked at the sign on the building.

"No."

"I knew you'd be like this."

"Family photos are so cheesy," he protested vehemently.

"No, they aren't," Sarah replied. "You're just a man. Although, Ben was the one who brought the subject up."

"I am not spending an hour grinning at a camera like an idiot."

"More like two," Sarah said softly. "Pay the driver, love. Look, Ben's here," she said as another taxi pulled up.

"I don't have any clothes. You two are dressed all nice, and I'm in jeans and an old shirt."

"Taken care of," Sarah replied as Ben walked up to them, holding a hanger of Mark's clothes. Danielle followed close behind.

Mark glared at all of them, Emma on his hip. "You're seriously making me do this?"

Ben nodded, his grin huge. "We've been planning this for months. By the way, that woman, Alex, left this for you."

He handed Mark an envelope. Mark looked at it. It was the one that he had written Alex's name on. He flipped it over. On the back, ME was written on the flap of the envelope, which had been sealed with tape.

"She left me a note," Mark said to Sarah, handing Emma off to Danielle as they walked into the studio. He read the note quickly, sighing and trying not to acknowledge the feeling of happiness within him.

"Do you have anything planned for Sunday?" Mark asked Sarah as Ben started to talk to the receptionist.

"No, why?"

"Well," he replied. "You finally get your coffee with Alex... only it's not coffee...It's dinner."