"Helen, I can explain. Please understand I—"

"You're queer," Helen said, shaking her head in disbelief, "and you lied to me."

"No." Chris reached for her, but Helen jumped back out of reach. His hand fell uselessly down to his side. "I didn't tell you everything. I wanted to, but you don't understand how hard it is to talk about this."

"No, I don't suppose I would, since it is not my shameful secret to carry, but yours."

"I was honest about everything else, Helen. How much I've missed you and the rest of the family, and how glad I was to find out I'm an uncle. I meant every word. None of that was a lie."

"Our parents, are they aware?" Helen folded her arms, pursing her lips whilst she waited for his reply.

Chris felt as though he was drowning. His mind was whirling in a thousand different directions. He wasn't prepared for a conversation like this. He turned away, eyes meeting with David, whose face had gone a deathly pale. David couldn't give him the reassurance he needed to hear.

"Chris! Are they aware?" She repeated, speaking each word slowly as if he were a child.

It required a significant amount of effort to raise his head and meet her gaze as he spoke. "Yes."

Helen took in a deep breath and nodded. "For how long?"

"Since I was sixteen." Chris waited as he watched for her reaction, watching her piece together past events and the stories he'd told her on their first reunion back in the shop.

"That was why you left so suddenly? They found out?"

"Father did. He disowned me. It's not my fault they didn't tell you. You're the youngest, and I suppose they believed you wouldn't understand at that age. If it were me ... I wouldn't want to leave you in the dark. I'd prefer to trust that you prioritise your love for me as a brother above all else." His shoulders slumped in defeat. Too late for that now.

"Helen—Mrs Hastings," David began, "We didn't want to give you a shock. I get that it's a lot to take in, but I'm conscious of how much pain Chris has been in through his life and I really believe that reuniting with you and spending time with your son has been more of a support than I ever could have been."

David meant well and his words touched his heart, but Chris wished David hadn't spoken about their relationship. They were on broken ice as it was.

The mention of her son, who was still in David's arms, grabbed Helen's attention. Without a word, she strode across the short distance between herself and David. "Take your hands off my son." She straightened herself up, since she was a good head shorter than him, but her direct glare up at him spoke enough of a warning to him.

David opened his mouth to speak, hesitating all the while. Little Chris, who by some miracle had quietened down, cried again.

"Don't speak to him like that. He's done nothing wrong," Chris said, trying to put himself between David and his sister.

"He's your lover, is he not? Makes him as filthy guilty as you, brother."

"We wouldn't hurt your son, Helen. Chris loves him," David reassured her.

"I do not want any type of love that either of you has displayed around my son. I heard stories about people like you. You're not fit to be around children. I refuse to allow you to influence him." Helen all but snatched her son out of David's arms and busied herself with gathering her belongings loaned to them for the day they'd spent with little Chris.

"That is not how it works, Mrs Hastings. Your brother has been that way he is since the day he was born. He was this way when he was growing up beside you as your brother. We cannot change your son, if he finds himself inclined the same way as his uncle and I then that's because he's always been so, not because of one day being cared for by us." David, who surrendered his usual calm personality, glowered at her. "I hope, though, for his sake he does not, because from what I see, you will reject him like his uncle was, and I would not wish that on anyone."

Helen stood rigid, mid-way through folding the soft blanket that had covered little Chris earlier. "How dare you? You have no place to tell me about my son. I would have every word written as a confession if I were to go to the police."

A sickening grew in Chris' stomach. His own sister wouldn't ... would she? Maybe not him, he hoped, but David? He was nothing special to her. "David go," he said without taking his eyes off Helen, his voice a mere whisper.

"No, I won't."

Chris grabbed his arm. "Go! I'll be fine." He stepped closer to David. He wanted to kiss him. If this was it for them, he had to. It would confirm his guilt in Helen's eyes, it would disgust her, and make her uncomfortable. He shot a defiant glare over his shoulder at her. David and his lips met for less than a second. Helen gasped. Wide eyed, David tilted his head slightly, silently asking him one more time. "Please go."

David walked out of the room, but paused as he passed Helen. "It's important for you to understand that I love your brother. If that is a sin for you, then I don't care. I know it's right. He's the best of men – brave, gentle, and despite everything, capable of kindness. Since you cannot see that anymore, I wanted to clarify that for you."

Silence endured until the front door closed beyond the room. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" Chris asked, despite knowing exactly what she was talking about. He wanted her to say it.

Helen shuffled on her feet. "Kiss him ... in front of me."

"You have it all now, regardless. Why would one more kiss make me any the more guilty?"

"I should go to the police."

Chris shut his eyes and nodded. He believed he would experience some kind of fear, or if not anger. He had no emotions. "Report me if you can do that to your own brother. Do what you like with me. I'm not scared of anything they can do. Not anymore."

Helen looked at him in disbelief. "Why?"

His answer hung on his lips: he'd been through it all before. "I only ask one thing: don't involve David, make me out to be whatever pervert you're seeing, but leave him alone."

Helen gathered up her bags and pushed the pram out into the hallway. Chris followed, without a word from her. "Why? You'd sacrifice everything?"

"I love him, Helen. Like you love your husband and son. I love him. I won't see him be a victim." Chris held his head high, hands clasped behind his back, so she didn't see them tremble.

Helen said nothing, only looked him over, her thoughts invisible to him. She wheeled the pram out into the garden.

"What will you do?" he asked.

"I don't know, but if you come near my son again, I won't hesitate."

"Helen, wait," Chris said, his voice wavering.

"No, Chris. Don't."

She closed the door on him, leaving Chris in the silence of his hallway. With no one to see him now, silent tears escaped his eyes – tasting the salt in his mouth. He took a step back. Stumbling over something, he tripped and fell, his bad leg taking the brunt of the fall. With a painful cry, he landed on the floor at the foot of the stairs. With a cautious shuffle backwards, he pressed his back against the wall and curled his knees up to his chest. Sobs lurched from him, muffled by his hands.

How could it be that a day so perfect would end in his ruin? An angry fist punched the wall, only rewarding him with yet more discomfort. It was what he deserved. He should have known that expecting someone like him to ever have a family or to find a happy ending was a foolish fantasy. It didn't happen, not in the end. He should have been grateful with that he had in the first place and never pushed for more, as now there was nothing. Only doubt and being at the mercy of his sister. By law, she was within her rights to go straight to the police station and report him. No one would judge her for that.

David: he should never have been involved. It should have stayed a secret; he should have kept David away from her. Fear hadn't gripped him upon contemplating more prison time, more humiliation at a trial, more running – that came as no surprise since he was aware of what to expect. It was almost a comfort. But David hadn't, and he can't ever face that. Chris experienced a wave of nausea wash over him. What had he done?

...

Shaking limbs carried David towards the farm. His lungs begged for air, but nothing slowed him down. He took the quickest route, crossing a river, cutting through fields and over hedges. By the time he made it to the farm, mud splattered his clothes. It wasn't clear to him why he ran; part of him needed to escape, the rest of him hoped somehow he could help Chris. But what could anyone do? They were both at Helen's mercy – by law she was perfectly within her right to do whatever she pleased with what she saw. David wished Chris had told her about his prison time after she found out, if only to appeal to a sympathetic side that he'd seen before. Chris wouldn't discuss that time with her – it was a secret only those he trusted were aware of, and she was not someone he trusted.

Silence hung over the farm. David supposed that the other workers would be up in the higher fields as they had been for the past several days. Matthew might have been with them, or he'd be inside. Larry would be at work in the barn on whatever his later mechanical project was – he never stopped when the sun set, preferring to finish a job, working into the darker hours of the winter evenings. A thought occurred to him: what if the police were waiting for him? Matthew would never betray him, would he? David dashed for cover, pinning himself up against the wall of the same barn he, Chris, Larry, and little Chris had been in only a few hours before. The light was fading, red and orange streaks split across the low horizon in the south-west, purple clouds lit up in a glow of the setting sun. Sheep bleated to each other in the fields beyond the farm, the ewes expecting lambs any day now. It should have been beautiful, but nothing seemed so to him, knowing how scared Chris must be.

Keeping his back against the wall, David walked sideways along the wall until he peaked around the corner. He was in full view of the lane coming down to the main gate – not a wise position. With a deep breath, he stole his last remaining ounce of confidence and made a run for it, glancing back one last time.

"Oof!"

David whirled around in alarm as he collided with Larry, who'd emerged from the barn just at that moment.

"David! Was that you on the other side of the wall? I had the impression I heard someone tiptoeing around." Larry smirked at him. "You know, running is far more efficient if one is facing forward." His jovial expression fell when David didn't respond accordingly. "David," he said, his words drawn out and measured, "What's happened? Why were you hiding?"

"I don't know if they're here. I'll be no use to him if they catch me, too." David's wide eyes darted left and right, both hands grabbed at his own hair, unable to stay still. "They might be there already. I'm probably too late. I don't know what to do. After she saw us—Oh, what use was I? I left; I left him to deal with the fallout." David pulled at his shirt collar, heat building all over his body. "Why did I listen to him? I should have stayed Larry!"

Larry blinked several times, frowning in confusion. "David, I'm afraid you're not making any sense? Who's coming for you? Is it that fella from Liverpool you ran from last year? I thought he was in prison?"

"What? No! The police! Who else?" David shouted at him.

Larry placed his hands on both of David's shoulders. "David. David, look at me. You need to calm down. I lack the complete story here. Breathe, okay?"

David closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. "I'm sorry. You must think me mad."

"No, not mad, scared, yes," Larry said with a kind smile. "Try again, explain."

"Not here."

Without a word, Larry returned to the barn, beckoning him to follow with a slight nod of his head. They stood in almost-darkness, only the lamp outside providing some residual light. David told Larry everything that had happened after their kiss, every word Helen had said, and how Chris had made him leave. All the while, Larry listened patiently, keen eyes watching him, taking in every detail of his story. David had to give him credit for that: to most, Larry appeared to be no one more than a rich flirt, but he knew the moments when someone needed his support.

"So, Chris is still at home?"

"I suppose." David shrugged. "Unless they've come for him already. I just can't believe any of this. It was only this afternoon ..."

"That you were here?" Larry asked, finishing his sentence for him.

"It was so perfect, Chris and I, we even talked about ... doesn't matter."

"The police aren't here, though, David. Matthew wouldn't let them hunt you down on his farm, nor would Emily. She'd be just as formidable as her father."

"I left him.

"And you were right to do so. There's no use in you both being arrested. You can't be of any use to him then." Larry rubbed his chin, nibbling his lip, deep in thought. "You need to know what the situation is?"

"You mean I should go back?"

"No. That would be a bad idea. I'll drive over there now, get some answers."

David slumped against the wall, head hanging forward, as he starred vacantly at the floor. "Not sure there's any point. If they haven't come for him or me, they may do so still." He lifted his gaze to Larry, his head heavy and spinning. "She has the power to report us whenever she feels fit."

"Was Helen angry?"

"Obviously, she feels betrayed."

"Hmm ... then I disagree." Larry stood up straight and rummaged in his pocket for something. "Since anger fuelled her actions, then I think she wouldn't hesitate to go to the police. She wouldn't go home and think it over, it would be an instinctive reaction to her emotions."

"Is this supposed to reassure me, Larry?" David said with a deadpan expression.

"Kind of. If I go there and find that Chris hasn't been marched away in handcuffs, then I doubt she'll take any action based on what she's seen." Larry pulled out a couple of keys on a ring, one of which David recognised as belonging to the luxury sports car that Larry had crashed on his arrival in Downton a few weeks before.

"You can't go in your car, Larry."

"Why? It's the fastest beauty on the planet! Well, not outright in the motoring world, but faster than anything the police have at their disposal by far. I need to get there in a flash, no?"

"Yes, but also discreetly." David hurried after Larry, who was already striding out of the barn, jaw set in determination. "Suppose you arrive at the same time as the police do? How would you explain that in your car? Take something from here, at least then you could pretend you were only passing."

"Shame." Larry pocketed his keys. "I've missed driving her, but yes, you are right. The van I sorted a few days ago will be best. Hang on, I'll be back in a second!" Larry called over his shoulder as he ran into the farmhouse and re-emerged, pushing a chequebook in to his inner jacket pocket.

"Larry," David began, his voice low with concern, "what's that for?"

"In case of emergencies." Larry unlocked the door of the van and crank-started the engine, all the while avoiding eye contact with him.

David knew already what Larry intended and what he meant by 'an emergency', but he had to ask all the same. Larry used his money not only to get what he wanted but also for the good of others and to support their kind of people – last year he'd been revealed to be the sponsor of Joanne Simpson's secret club in London. "What will you do?"

"Every person has their price, and I am confident that I possess enough to meet whatever that may be. If Mrs Hastings needs silencing or if the police are to be told to look the other way, then there has to be an incentive." Larry sat in the driver's seat and revved the engine. "Money makes the world go around, David."

"Larry, be careful. Sebastian wouldn't want you to put yourself at risk, nor do I."

Larry gave him one last look, the same that he showed whenever they mentioned his estranged boyfriend. "Sebastian would want me to do the right thing. I hope Chris doesn't need my interference, but ... Chris will not be in prison again. David, go inside and tell Matthew everything."

Stones flicked either side of the van as Larry sped, as fast as the farm vehicle could muster, out of the yard. David watched until he disappeared out of sight. Larry enjoyed being the centre of attention, and no doubt he was getting a thrill out of being the hero, but David hoped he hadn't made things worse by involving him. Sebastian would want Larry to do the right thing, but David was sure he wouldn't want Larry to open himself up to trouble, either.

With little else he could do, David headed for the farmhouse, hoping Matthew, in his wisdom, could help.