A/N: it has been hard for me to write very much lately to get this finished, so I'm sorry about the delay.
A/N2: I had most of this already written and Roddy did his thing again. It's a good job I love him.

Part 22

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They hadn't long received their drinks, and were stood chatting alone with one of Martha's new friends, when a very familiar face greeted them.

"Ricky! I didn't expect to see you here!" John exclaimed with joy when he spotted his cousin standing a few feet away, still clad in jeans and a t shirt. Of course a jacket had been added to the ensemble, but that didn't matter. "Is there a problem?" he asked when Roderick's expression didn't change. "What's happened?"

"John, we need to talk," Roderick informed him. "Is there somewhere we can go?"

"Erm…" John cast his gaze about and chose the door that led out into Martha's conservatory. "Let's see if this is empty."

Leading the way, John grasped the handle and cautiously turned it; half expecting to catch someone mid action. But fortunately no one had chosen to go out there. The cooler air hit them, but John was more worried about the stern expression on Roderick's face.

"This is nice," Roderick commented on the garden room as he shut the door behind them.

It was time to open the conversation, John decided. "Well? What's on your mind?"

"There's no easy way to say this," admitted Roderick. "So I'm going to go straight for the truth. Were you aware that our mothers had to undergo IVF treatment?"

"No." The word almost stuck in John's throat. What did this mean? Being a test tube baby didn't necessary mean it was bad news, he tried to convince himself. That's if they were test tube babies.

"It turns out that Donald Peterson isn't my biological father. Instead it is…" Roderick's voice wavered for a second as he tried to hold on to his emotions.

"It's," encouraged John, dreading the reveal.

"It is the same as you: Sydney Smith." Roderick waited for that little bombshell to land before continuing, "Hello, little brother. Well, half-brother to be more precise."

"You're my brother?!" John spluttered, shocked and pleased all in one go. "I've got a brother. A big brother."

"Not too big," Roderick pointed out in amusement; a shy smile playing about his lips. "It turns out that I was very premature, and I'm only eighteen days older than you."

"But still," John considered, "technically that's an older brother. Oh man!" He grabbed Roderick into a massive hug. "My brother!"

"Hello brother!" Roderick cried, equally pleased with the way things were going as he hugged back with enthusiasm.

"Is this a private party or can anyone join it?" Donna asked when she found them still clasped together some seconds later. She leaned against the doorjamb in anticipation.

Both men turned to her in glee. "This is a family celebration, but come in and hear the news," John beckoned her forward.

Their excitement was infectious as they dragged her over to a wickerwork settee to tell their tale and share known snippets of information.

"But what does this mean for you both now?" Donna wondered.

"Well, I intend to supply John and his parents a comfortable home as soon as I can, and he is not going to bury himself in the farm like he has done so far," Roderick proposed.

"Ricky! That is not…," John started to protest, but Roderick held up his hand to stop the denial.

"It is true, John; and you are too intellect to be wasting your precise time in mundane duties. That is why I am determined to set up a farm manager with someone to do the dirty work," Roderick explained. "Of course, I won't take away the important stuff from you, but it has to be a partnership that you can enjoy, whilst furthering your career elsewhere."

"Then you're not just kicking me out?"

"As if that was ever my intention!" Roderick declared. "No, I have plans to improve your life, not mess it up."

The resultant embrace brought tears to Donna's eyes as she watched them together. Who would ever have thought that this caring family man was hidden inside of Roderick Peterson? Certainly not her, that was for sure.

The music being played pumped out a very enticing beat, and Donna found herself moving her body in time to it despite her best intentions to stand still. She had returned to the main room only to find John had gone off somewhere. The room was reasonably full of people she didn't know dancing along; obviously Strictly Come Dancing was still having a major effect on everyone. And out from behind them all stepped Roderick.

Looking very pleased with himself, he smiled expectantly at her. "Dance with me, please Donna," Roderick requested.

She frowned as all the reasons why she shouldn't dance with him bombarded her thoughts. "I don't think it would be wise," she eventually replied.

"Oh come come," he smoothly retorted, and swept her into his arms. "We're practically family now. One day you will no doubt be my sister-in-law. There's very little harm we can do by dancing together."

Releasing her right hand momentarily from his grasp, she pushed his body slightly back from hers. "Nevertheless, there is still the possibility of dancing too close for comfort."

All he did was smirk down at her and crush her body closer again. "Au contraire, comfort is my optimum goal."

Not wanting to giggle, but doing so anyway, she allowed him the moment. Her senses went on alarm when he brought his lips next to her ear to intimately whisper, "What do you really think of my change of image?"

"Erm…" She raised her head, only to find herself almost nose tip to nose tip with him; and he had removed his glasses. With a gasp, she admitted, "You look identical to John, except for the hair." It was all so confusing as her feelings for John swelled up and tried to overwhelm her reticence towards Roderick. "Roddy, Ricky, or whatever your name is; this is unfair of you."

"What? You mean my taking advantage of your natural attraction for me?" he dismissed. "You can call me Roddy, if you like. I don't mind. And the answer to your next question is: yes, I am very tempted."

"Why?" she wondered before her brain could stop her.

"Oh Donna," he breathily proclaimed. "I need you."

"Ah! I'd forgotten about the job," she stated in realisation.

His mouth opened and shut for a few seconds. "Well… yes, I do need you to come and work for me again, but that isn't the whole story."

It was all she could do to keep in her disbelieving chuckle. "Don't talk wet! It almost sounds as though you're going to ask me to run off and elope with you to sunnier climes at this rate."

His gaze held hers, emotions whirling within his eyes, and then he dipped suggestively forward.

"Oh my gawd!" she exclaimed, as she dodged sideways and flung herself away from the kiss. "No, you are not doing this. You have someone and so do I. Okay, you might not care for Daisy very much beyond the odd bunk-up but I'm in love with John. I am taken."

"You're right," he agreed contritely. "But let me proffer this before I let you go. Has he told you about Rose?"

"W-w-who?" she stuttered.

In that moment she could have slapped the smug grin clean off his face.

"Thought so," he trilled. "I'll come and find you when he has." Letting his hand release its hold of hers, he advised, "Go and find out before you make your mind up; for both your sakes."

It really did hurt him to see Donna stumble away from his care, in so much personal pain; but it had to be done. As he had feared, John had not mentioned the woman, and that was dangerous, to all concerned.

Where the bloody hell was he?! It was as if he had disappeared off the face of the Earth. As she vainly sought John, Donna caught sight of Martha heading towards some important task in presumably the kitchen. In light of John having gone walkabout somewhere, and without conscious decision, she immediately followed on behind.

"Have you any idea where John has gone?" Donna asked with what she hopefully thought was a carefree manner.

Now standing at a kitchen worktop and concentrating hard, Martha bustled about with practised efficiency. Barely lifting her head from assembling a healthy salad, she supplied, "I think he went off with Jack to see his new car. Boys and their toys, eh!"

A prominent question played on Donna's mind but she bit down on it as she considered the best way to get the truth. Pleased that she now had cornered Martha in the kitchen, Donna sauntered closer and started to help by passing things and washing ingredients. "Martha, can I ask you a question?" Donna asked her as soon as she could.

Martha finished chopping up extra cucumber to add to her salad presentation before wiping her hands clean and giving Donna her full attention. "Of course you can. What did you want to know?"

To be honest, she was expecting to be asked where the spare toilet rolls or sanitary products were, or what to possibly buy John for Christmas. The question she received stunned her.

"Who is Rose?"

"Rose!" Martha echoed, fighting for extra time to answer. "She is… she was… Look, are you sure you want me to answer this question? Shouldn't you be asking John instead?"

"I would have agreed with you about that before you totally tried to evade answering me," Donna confessed. "So why are you avoiding it?"

"It's just…" Martha anxiously licked her lips. "There was this young blonde called Rose that hung around John when I first knew him. She followed him around all the time, hung on his every word, and if she could have done, she'd have hung on him constantly too. I never thought much of it at the time, to tell you the truth; I was too busy trying to catch his attention myself."

"You had a thing for him," Donna stated in understanding.

"I did," Martha acknowledged. "Rose was nothing except irritating to me. Then she disappeared for a while, was gone for months; and I was relieved for a while. But when she came back, suddenly John and her were an item. In next to no time they were engaged." She glanced towards the kitchen door as if expecting someone to be standing there. "Didn't he tell you about her?"

Fervently gesturing with her finger, Donna confessed that he didn't. "He hasn't said a word."

"Then who did?" Martha queried.

"I did," Roderick coolly admitted as he crossed the threshold into the room and picked up a bottle of whiskey to refresh the empty glass held in his hand. He offered the bottle towards them, but they both declined with a shake of their heads. "Hello, Martha. You of all people should be aware how inconvenient Rose can be in a possible relationship," he remarked as he poured his drink.

An embarrassed flush appeared on Martha's face but she forced herself to greet him civilly. "Hello, Ricky. Nice of you to remind me."

"Am I interrupting a private fight?" Donna wondered as she stepped back a little. "Don't let me stop you."

Roderick reached out a hand to halt her progress, resting it on her waist. "There's no need to worry, Donna. Martha and I have crossed swords many times in the past over trifling matters but we are capable of being friendly."

"Speak for yourself," Martha muttered in Donna's direction. "I take it you two know each other quite well?"

Donna readily answered, "Yes, we do. I worked with him for over a year."

"You have my sympathy," Martha mumbled to Donna again. "So Ricky; why aren't you here with your latest victim, I mean, girlfriend?"

He sneered back at her and took a swig of his drink, baring his teeth as the alcohol hit his palate. "I left her enjoying the attractions of the spa adjacent to the hotel. Daisy is of a delicate disposition."

"Who's Daisy?" Martha asked of Donna.

It was with some bitterness that Donna replied, "Daisy Dyer, my job replacement."

"Do you have to keep bringing that up?" Roderick demanded to know. "I've apologised to you for it."

With a roll of her eyes, Donna bit back, "Are you sure you have?"

"I could have sworn I had," he pondered. "Surely I have by now."

There was a snort of disagreement. "No, not at all."

"Weird," he considered with a sniff. "How remiss of me."

Martha went to comment that with Ricky it wouldn't merely be remiss, it'd be deliberate; but his phone went off loudly in his pocket, interrupting the thought in its tracks. Instead she was treated to the pantomime that began to play out before her.