In the drunk tank. NYPD 78th Division

A few days before Christmas 1986

'Ah Officer, c'mon have a heart!'

'Give it a rest Eugene, every year you're in here. Been away for three years, I come back and here you are again.'

'Like a bad penny, huh?'

'Yeah, like a bad penny'

'It'll be my last' the old man said sadly, 'I won't see another one, me bones are aching.'

'Well you enjoy it, I'm going home now, been on since the sun came up.'

He turned the key in the door as the old man began to sing, a longing song of a country he'd left in childhood. He stopped halfway through a verse 'home to a warm bed and a warm woman, I hope, Officer.'

Lieutenant James Dempsey walked away as Eugene resumed his song.

'A warm bed and a warm woman' if only the old man knew the truth, he was going home to a single bed in his mother's attic bedroom, another night alone with his tattered heart and his wounded pride.

As Dempsey drove through the New York streets a fresh falling of snow began and he turned his thoughts to London.

He wondered where she was tonight, with her family, gathering at Winfield Hall he supposed.

She'd invited him to join them for Christmas last year and he could still smell the wood panelling and the pine scent of the enormous Christmas tree. It was a perfect Christmas, they were so easy together, with lingering touches and looks that spoke more than any words and Dempsey had allowed himself to glimpse into a possible future.

But then everything had fallen apart and they became worse than strangers.

London

Harriet Makepeace was not at Winfield Hall. Her father was staying in London this year due to the Hall being closed up for urgent repairs. Her middle sister was coming to stay with him; her elder sister to everyone's relief was with her in-laws. She had envisioned a quiet day, just the three of them at her father's flat and she was relieved to be spared a Christmas at Winfield Hall. She had dreaded her family's careful avoidance of the subject of James Dempsey, treading carefully around the unasked questions.

As Christmas approached Harry was haunted by memories of last year when Dempsey had felt so much like part of the family. There were moments amongst the carols, mulled wine and family games when she wondered what would happen if she just gave in to the feelings she spent so long trying to suppress.

But now she was at home making frantic phone calls.

That morning her friend Emily had called in a panic. 'I've been sent to New York, Harry, they need pictures of the Rockefeller Christmas Tree, God knows why it can't wait but they want them as soon as, so I'm booked to fly on Christmas Eve.'

Harry made all the right noises as she wondered where this was heading.

'And here's the thing Harry' Emily continued: 'someone high up must have had too much sherry because they've paid for Richard to come too, except he can't now, his mother's fallen and broken her hip, she's 83 and he can't leave her.

'Em I don't see what….'

'You have a friend in New York don't you? Come with me, you can do your own thing while I'm working and we can see the sights in the evening.'

'He's an ex-colleague and we're not in touch any longer.' She hoped the bitterness in her voice didn't show, she didn't want to dampen Emily's excitement.

'Oh! Angela gave the impression there had been something between you..'

Harry wanted to say that New York was the last place on Earth she wanted to go, but despite herself images of his slow smile, his eyes full of concern, the sound of his voice kept surfacing. He's a sexist, arrogant, jumped up….she tried to convince herself, …and you are better off without him.

Without him work was certainly less unpredictable, her new partner was a wet about the ears rookie called Stephen. He was keen if a little dull and he would be moving on to another department in a few months so she tolerated him without making much effort. But if the truth be told she longed for the way things used to be, days spent in affectionate bickering, evenings spent eating takeaways, watching tv, going to parties. It was a good life, she was happy and she'd been sure Dempsey was too.

But then they'd had a month of hell at work, an investigation that had backfired, one of the team badly injured during a raid. Dempsey had become increasingly bullish as his frustration and anger grew and Harry admitted to herself for the first time that rather than being there for him she'd thrown up barriers, turned in on herself and expected more from him than he was able to give.

And then a ridiculous argument about lost car keys, accusations thrown and he'd gone.

At first she had expected him to come back within the week, so had enjoyed the feeling of relief at his absence. But then there was a slow, sinking, sickening realisation that he really had gone back to New York - for good.

Brooklyn, New York

Rosa Dempsey called out as she heard the front door close. 'I'm in here Jimmy!'

He found her in the kitchen surrounded by trays of biscuits and pies, a heap of floury dishes piled in the sink.

'Hi Mom' Dempsey planted a kiss on her cheek and threw himself down on a chair.

'Long day?'

'Yeah, long and frustrating, you know it's the same ones every year, cheap whisky and old men with nowhere to go.' He ran his hand over his face, trying to rub away his exhaustion.

Rosa brought two mugs of coffee to the table and sat down. She came straight to the point. 'I'm worried about you Jimmy.'

'I'm fine Mom' he huffed, 'just getting used to being here again.'

'You miss London.' It was a statement not a question.

Dempsey sighed, he knew that sooner or later he had to talk to his mother, that he was being unfair expecting her to feed and house him without an explanation of his sudden arrival back home.

'Yeah, I miss London, Mom, and yes I miss her too. But it's better this way.'

'Is it really? You look so miserable, honey.' Rosa laid her hand over her son's. 'Do you want to tell me what happened?'

Dempsey looked down at the table, drawing patterns in some spilled flour.

'We had a stupid argument, both said some things that we didn't mean, well I didn't mean what I said. But there was nothing more to say, so I left.'

London early hours of Christmas Eve

Harry wasn't quite sure what had happened but she was now packing a suitcase, locating her passport and had booked a week's leave at very short notice.

As she waited for Emily to check them in at Heathrow Airport she felt despite everything a small glow of excitement about the next few days. Christmas in New York, snow, lights and shopping; it would be just like in films. Her excitement had nothing to do with the fact that James Dempsey was in the same city, nothing at all.