Aghh – I'm a terrible human being who let's work get on top of her and doesn't keep up to date with her writing! So I'm sorry, thank you so so much for all your lovely lovely reviews, you're all wonderful, I am snowed under with shifts at the moment so my update'll be less often than before, but I will try and keep up and I havn't forgotten about you all!

This chapter the Turnerdette magic really kicks off and hopefully is the start of something lovely!

Further A/N: just in case anyone was particularly wondering the songs at the start of each chapter that Shelagh's either listening to or singing are all just random songs that are on my ipod, that I felt either related to the story or were a good way to kick off a chapter, but I've listed them here if anyone cares!

1. The Hoosiers – Cops and Robbers

2. Emeli Sande – Read all about it

3. Talking Heads – Road to nowhere

4. Bananarama – Love in the first degree

5. – No song –

6. Pitch Perfect – Cup song

"I got my ticket for the long way 'round, two bottle whiskey for the way, and I sure would like some sweet company, And I'm leaving tomorrow, what-do-ya say? When I'm gone, when I'm gone, you're gonna miss me when I'm gone …. You're gonna miss me by my hair, you're gonna miss me everywhere, oh, you're gonna miss me when I'm gone."

"Going somewhere?" Shelagh started, she had been staring intently at the slowly revolving Tupperware tub of pasta bake in the staffroom microwave. Oblivious to anyone else entering the other whys empty room, she had carried on singing away to her ipod, hypnotised by her food cooking. Patrick had crept in and laid a hand on her shoulder, bringing her out of reverie,

"Sorry what was that Patrick?"

"The song – you planning on disappearing off somewhere?"

"Oh no no – nothing like that, world of my own you know."

"Good, because you're right, I'd miss you if you went. Listen umm I was wondering if you wanted to go for a meal? If you wanted to – don't feel obliged or anything! It just seems like every time I ever see you, you're either searching for my AWOL son, or sat in a bowling alley … so I was just wondering …"

"Go on then, when were you thinking?"

"I don't know, are you free tonight? I mean I'm not in tomorrow and neither are you … so?"

"Tonight? You're certainly a in the moment man … tonight'd be fine"

"Wonderful – sounds like the perfect plan."

Patrick Turner opened up his wallet, pulling out £20 he handed it over to Hannah, she looked up from a mobile momentarily and gave a brief smile and pushed the note into her jeans pocket before turning back to her mobile screen,

"So – I shouldn't be back too late, I mean 10 or 11 maybe? Will that be alright do you think Hannah?"

"Yeah yeah – that's fine."

"Right … sorry for calling you at such notice, it's just that Stacey's ill and she recommended you … you have babysat before?"

"Yeah yeah – all the time." the blond teenager replied without looking up from her mobile phone,

"Right – well there's a frozen pizza in the freezer if you want it, and my number's by the kettle if you need anything, but there shouldn't be any issues."

"Yeah – bye then Mr Taylor."

"Turner, it's Tur … oh never mind, 'night Tim – just another ½ an hour and then I want you in bed please!" he called over Hannah's shoulder, before casting a quick look around his front door reluctantly, hoping it would still be there when he returned, he walked briskly over to his car. Stacey was usually so reliable, polite and good with Tim, so her recommendation of her cousin Hannah hadn't concerned him when she'd called in sick. But having met the cousin in question he was now filled with doubts, but needs must, he was determined to meet up with Shelagh that night, it was starting to worry him how much he thought about her – not, he hoped, in the kind of way that would lead to a police investigation and her body being found in a quarry. But in that as he had so often in the past turned to show a funny article to his wife, forgetting that she had gone, he now turned to point out a joke to Shelagh when she wasn't there, although why he should do that was beyond him, since he had never lived with her or indeed spent any considerable time with her in which he told her jokes – and yet, and yet! He smiled to himself as he stopped at the roundabout leading him over to her side of London, after a moment he slipped into the steady stream of cars and took the second exit towards her road. Radio 2 was on faintly to keep him company and Simon Mayo was wittering away about nothing in particular as a song came on the radio, recognising its strains he turned it up a little.

"You've got the words to change a nation but you're biting your tongue, you've spent a life time stuck in silence afraid that you'll say something wrong …."

He had heard Shelagh sing it some time ago he was sure, it was a nice song, although he had no idea who the girl singing it was, perhaps she had told him? He couldn't recall,

"I wanna sing, I wanna shout, I wanna scream till the words dry out, so put it in all of the papers, I'm not afraid they can read all about it"

Emily something perhaps? Emilia? He couldn't remember either way, he drove carefully through the estate pulling up at the bottom of Shelagh's high rise just as she came out of the doors at the bottom. He saw her a second before she saw him and got to enjoy the look on her face before she broke into a smile on seeing him, from his mother he had learnt the joy of watching someone's face as they are thinking to themselves, he recalled seeing a girl on the tube, staring blankly at her reflection on the opposite window – oblivious to her surrounding and lost in her own thoughts until she suddenly broke into a smile as a happy memory popped into her head, and left her smiling quietly to herself for the rest of the journey.

"Patrick hi, thanks for picking me up – I could have made my own way you know."

"Don't be silly, it's no trouble, get it – and I'm sorry about the mess, it's all Tim's – not mine I promise!"

"You mean the plastic dinosaur isn't yours?"

"Alas no – I'm not entirely sure why it's in the car, I'm sure when I last checked it'd been sat in a flower pot for the last 3 years."

"The mysteries of dinosaurs, maybe it's a teleporting dinosaur?"

"You think?"

"I think it's a distinct possibility."

"But it's a T-rex, how would he reach the controls in his teleporter?"

"I didn't say anything about a teleporter! I'm working on the theory that's he's a naturally teleporting dinosaur."

"A dinosaur with an inbuilt ability to teleport you mean?"

"Mmm – seems the obvious answer to me, I mean how else did he get here?"

"How indeed." For the first time in his life, Patrick strangely akin to his plastic dinosaur – how had the dinosaur ended up in the car, and how had Patrick ended up taking a beautiful woman out to dinner? And then – realising that he was starting to get ridiculous, Patrick gave a sharp cough, and with one foot on the accelerator he pulled out of the estate towards the restaurant.

"Americano please, thanks."

"Same for me, thank you. So – what do you think?"

"I've never had Turkish food before and I'm impressed, well done on your choice Patrick."

"Thank you – if I told you that sat right to your left is the most ridiculously dressed woman in the world, what would you do?"

"I'd look – and laugh – obviously, why?"

"Because on your left is the most ridiculously dressed woman in the world."

"Should I look?"

"Oh yes, it's more than worth it!"

"… Christ alive! What is that?"

"It's almost like she's rolled in glitter, and who knew that you could even get neon thigh high boots?"

"You mean you haven't got a pair at home Dr Turner!"

"Well of course I have, but they're not that colour."

"Of course, of course. Oh – here's the coffee, thank you."

"Thanks – and could we have the bill? Sorry – I'd more than happily spend all night in here with you – but I have a highly suspicious babysitter in my employ until 10pm."

"You never said why she was so suspicious."

"Oh nothing really – just a normal 15 year old, but all the same I do wonder if the house'll still be standing when I get back. Oh – by the way – I meant to say, Tim, he's started getting these dyslexia tutoring things."

"Oh? How's he doing?"

"Well I think – but it's not really my area of expertise you know, I'm not sure how long it's meant to take this sort of thing."

"I can't say I know much more than you – but I'm sure that things'll get better and he'll start to find his feet again. All you can do is support him I suppose."

"Mmm – yes, which is easier said than done I'm afraid, he's a difficult boy – I mean I love him to death but he can be difficult. He has acute teenage-boy-itus I'm afraid."

"He's not a teenager yet though is he?"

"No – that's what worries me Shelagh, I may have another 8 years of this to get through!"

"Ha – sooner started, sooner ended. Shall we go, that waiter's starting to stare at us quite intently. I'll just pop to the ladies a moment."

"Of course, maybe if I put on my coat he'll stop staring at us." With a smile Shelagh left Patrick alone struggling to find his sleeve with their impatient waiter watching their every move. Stepping across to the room towards the toilet, Shelagh turned back to the table and watched Patrick with a smile as he carried on trying to force his arm through a sleeve that wouldn't yield. In the small room, fitted with its small MDF cubicles that didn't match the almost stylish not quite marble effect sinks, Shelagh stared into the mirror for a moment, watching her reflection intently; scanning the wave in her hair, her eyes and her lips, imagining for a second his and then with a blink she swallowed hard and washing her hands in the sink she turned back towards the door.

"Ahh – there you are, here's your coat … shall we?"

"Thank you, yes let's go – thank you, good night." She said in passing to the now quite relieved looking waiter, who replied in kind and with a small smile the couple stepped out onto the dark street towards the doctor's parked car, opening the passenger door for her Patrick smiled,

"Thank you for a lovely evening, it's been … lovely."

"It's has been … lovely as you said."

"I'm no orator I'm afraid – no, but you'll do."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Do – it was meant as one … well next time you'll have to let me cook."

"Next time?"

"Yes, I mean if you'd like to."

"Mmmm …"

"Sorry – was I being a bit forward I just thought …"

"Yes – no I mean …" pulling up in front of Shelagh's tower block Patrick paused.

"You don't have to you know."

"No it's not that it's just … it's just complicated."

"Is it, I hadn't thought so, I thought it was all quite simple."

"Yes, it is and it's not and then again … you see when I met Clair everything was so simple, I was young, she was young and she just took over my heart, completely and totally and I just knew."

"Knew?"

"Knew that she was all I'd ever want or need, and then … and then she died and I met you and … and it's different and not what I know."

"You know that different isn't always a bad thing don't you?"

"How do you know that you like something? Like … imagine you ate an apple and you liked it, and then for the rest of your life you at nothing but apples and then one day someone gave you a … a banana, and it doesn't taste like an apple so you can't tell if you like it or not, because the only thing in your life that you ever liked is apples because all you've ever eaten is apples."

"You know you like bananas if you like the taste of bananas, isn't that obvious?"

"You're so young …"

"I may be young – but at least I'm not afraid of my own feelings. Goodnight."

"No – Shelagh wait …" But Shelagh McDonald had already left the car.