31 December 1992

"I'm going to resign."

"Don't be stupid," Frank said, a slice of toast hanging out of his mouth as he traversed around the kitchen picking up papers that had been strewn around carelessly over the course of the preceding few days. "You're not going to resign, and you know you're not."

"Why not? Why shouldn't I?"

"Because it'll just look as though you've got something to feel guilty about and you haven't."

"Well, I'm fed up being stuck in here all day every day."

"You're picking up a pay cheque, aren't you? And it's not as if you're chained to the sink. Besides, it's probably the only time you're ever going to get an extended period of time off work without having to do anything else."

"Anything else like what?"

"Look after a baby, for one thing."

"Well obviously I wouldn't mind that." She sighed heavily. "I'm just sick of not knowing what's going to happen."

He turned and looked at the fed-up expression on her face, the one he had gotten so used to over the preceding weeks since she had been suspended. The investigation into the hostage situation appeared to have been moving at a snail's pace and with the exception of one interview, she hadn't been told anything further about what was happening. Being true to her word and taking her complaint about Peter Norris to Chief Superintendent Oliver had also gotten her nowhere, with his reaction very much in line with Ferguson's.

She had put a good front on for Christmas Day however, spent as it had been with Pat, Gerry and the kids. Despite everything, it had felt good having her there as one of the family and the day had gone well, even if he had been able to tell that the two most important women in his life had their own demons underneath the show of Yuletide frivolity.

Not that he was complaining, but one thing she appeared to be using as a distraction was sex. The frequency had certainly increased of late, but he wasn't completely naïve as to the reason, being that she was growing increasingly desperate to be pregnant and have something else to focus on as opposed to having any heightened attraction to him.

"Look, I know it's hard but at the end of the day, all you can do is just wait it out."

"Maybe I should just fall on my sword."

"And say what?"

"That I accept responsibility for what happened, that it was my fault things escalated the way they did…"

"But it wasn't, and you know that."

"Right, but maybe it's not worth it. Maybe I'd be better off cutting my losses and doing something else. I'm not completely without talent. There must be hundreds of jobs out there I could do that don't involve being treated like shit. Besides," she sighed again. "It's not as if I can ever go back to Barton Street now."

"As if you'd want to."

"Not everyone was bad there. I'll miss some of the team like Morag and John."

"Chalk it up to experience. Even if you are cleared, which you will be, I doubt they'd take you back, so they'll need to find somewhere else for you to go."

"I can't wait to find out where."

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to go," he said, glancing at the clock. "I've got a budget meeting with Meadows first thing and, if I'm late, he'll have my guts for garters."

"Well, I hope you've got everything. You've certainly cluttered up the place enough over the last few days with all the paperwork."

He chose to ignore the acidity of her comment and drew her into his arms for a kiss. "Try and be positive. It's 1993 tomorrow remember. New year, new start."

"Where have I heard that before?"

"And it's sort of an anniversary for us."

She frowned, "Anniversary? Of what?"

"You told me a long time ago that you first realised you had feelings for me the day Johnno Smith took us hostage in his flat."

"So?"

"Well, today's the anniversary of that happy day. Three years ago and counting."

"Blimey…time really does fly." She paused and looked up at him through hooded lids. "Are you working late tonight?"

"Hopefully not, unless of course something major lands on my desk between now and five o'clock, like a juicy murder." He kissed her again. "We can go for a few drinks if you want."

"Maybe. I'll see how I feel."

"Right, I'll see you later then." He kissed her again quickly and then made his way out of the flat and into his car. Once on the road, he let out a long breath that he hadn't even realised he'd been holding. It certainly hadn't been easy over the course of the last few weeks, but he had reminded himself that with the joy of marriage also came the reality of facing problems. As he waited at a set of traffic lights, he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel and thought, not for the first time, how unfair it was that she was the one facing the career difficulties. He should have been the one to transfer. It wasn't as it he hadn't done it before, started over in a new nick with a reputation preceding him. Not that he doubted her ability, but it most likely would have been easier for him, not to mention the fact that all the trouble at Barton Street had come about because of her transfer there which, of course, related directly back to their relationship.

Perhaps he should have done what he had suggested right back at the beginning and leave the force. Who knew what he would be doing now or where they might be. But he knew one thing; she would still have been at Sun Hill, where she belonged.

Jack was already in and waiting for him when he arrived, and though he knew he wasn't late, he was irked with himself that he hadn't arrived first.

"Morning Frank," Jack greeted him as he came into the office and took a seat. "How are you?"

"Good Guv, and you?"

"As fine as I can be for the last day of the year." Jack gestured to the papers in front of him. "For once, our figures are looking good."

"Well, that's something at least. Better than being constantly told we need to do better."

"I'm really pleased with recent performance. Let's hope we can keep the momentum going over the course of 1993." Jack paused. "Departmental budget is looking good too."

"In what sense?"

"In the sense that we have more money to play with in the coming year, particularly for resourcing."

"Well, I'll never say no to extra bodies. We've certainly got the workload there for them and if we want to keep things looking good in 1993…"

"My thoughts exactly. We're looking at adding at least one DC, if not more, and possibly one DS."

Before he could stop himself, Frank felt his head snap up. "One DS?"

"I know what you're thinking."

"I'm not thinking anything, Guv, other than it would solve two problems: our resourcing and, well, a more personal issue."

"Has she been told anything more?"

"No, they're keeping it all very close to their chests. But if you ask me, they haven't got a leg to stand on in terms of holding her responsible for what happened. Yes, she suggested Mr Patel not be picked up the day he ended up being unfortunately stabbed, but that decision was signed off by Norris. If he didn't think it was a good idea, he should have said so. As far as I'm concerned, the buck stops with him, just as it would stop with me if the situation was different. The fact he's trying to pin entire responsibility for what happened onto her says a lot about him as a manager."

"What about her complaint?"

"Brushed under the carpet, as expected." He paused. "Regardless of whether they would even take her back, she can't go back to Barton Street, nor does she want to. A move back here would be ideal."

"Mmmm…it's not quite as simple as that."

"Look," he sat forwards, realising this was the pivotal moment. "We've paid our penance. We've both got official warnings on our records, I was turned down for DCI which I'm not stupid enough to think probably didn't have something to do with it, and she's been away from the nick now for five months. We're married. Her working under me isn't an issue anymore."

"It depends on how you look at it. You'd still be her senior officer."

"But you could argue that now, the marriage came first before the chain of command. She was a DC at Catford with that first husband of hers, and when he was made DS, nobody cared because they were already married."

"That was different. We can't ignore what happened in the past, Frank, particularly the public attention it received."

"That was eighteen months ago, or as good as. People have moved on. Gossip has moved on." He paused again, well aware that he was on the edge of a knife. "Come on Jack, you know it makes sense. Regardless of what you might think about me, she's a damn good officer with a proven track record. She knows the ground, the people…"

"All right," Jack held up his hands. "I'll talk it over with Mr Conway and Mr Brownlow and see what they say. I'm not making you any promises though, and there would have to be a damn sight better supervision than there was before, if you know what I mean."

"I know what you mean, Guv," he grinned, "and I promise it would all be legitimate and above board."

"Yeah…" Jack picked up the papers in front of him again. "I bet it would."

XXXX

Other women might it thought quite desirable to be able to spend the day wandering around the shops, treating themselves with money that no effort had been given towards earning, but the novelty of that had very quickly worn off for her in the days following her suspension. Now, all these weeks later, it brought her no comfort at all, other than the requirement of fresh air and a change of scene. The wind was bitterly cold, however, and she was starting to regret coming out at all. She would have turned for home if it hadn't been a necessity to pick up a few essentials to tide over until the shops re-opened in the new year. Though, looking down at her basket, snacks and alcohol seemed to figure more highly than any other staple.

In her quest for pregnancy, yet unfulfilled, she had cut down on her alcohol intake, but over the festive period it had just seemed a waste not to indulge a little bit, even if it was done partly to blot out everything else that was going on.

Perhaps 1993 would be better.

As she rounded the last aisle and was about to head for the checkout, she heard a familiar voice call out her name and, turning, was surprised to see Kim making her way towards her, pushing a trolley.

"I thought it was you, but I couldn't be sure. How are you?"

"I'm fine thank you Ma'am, and you?"

"Oh, can't complain. Just looking to stock up for the next few days. You look to be doing the same."

"Sort of. Wine and crisps as you see," she gestured to her basket.

"It's good to see you. I can give you my congratulations in person."

"Congratulations?"

"On your promotion, and your marriage of course. I did tell Frank to pass them on when I saw him a few months ago, but it's nice to be able to do it face to face."

"Oh, yes, thank you Ma'am."

Kim paused. "I heard that you were at Barton Street now."

"Yes, well…sort of."

"Sort of?"

She felt herself blushing at the embarrassment of the whole situation and was about to bid Kim a hasty goodbye and retreat, abandoning her basket if needs be, but instead found herself uttering the words. "I'm currently suspended."

To her surprise, she found that the other woman didn't appear to be. Surprised, that was. Instead, she merely nodded sympathetically. "Yes, I had heard that too."

"Good news travels fast. I wouldn't have thought the lowly career of a Sergeant would have merited chatter further up the ladder." She realised as soon as they had left her mouth how bitter her words sounded, but it was too late to take them back.

"Believe it or not, I have taken an interest in your career, Christina. I always championed you when I was at Sun Hill, and I did tell you that I believed you were destined for lofty heights."

"Well, not now it would appear."

"I wouldn't be too sure." Kim paused. "Look, do you have time for a coffee? If you let me get this lot rung through, I'll buy you one at the café next door. What do you say?"

"Oh, well…" she floundered, caught between the further indignity of rehashing what had happened in front of a superior officer she had always admired, and curiosity as to what the conversation might entail. "That would be very nice, thank you."

And so it was, twenty minutes later, that she was sat opposite Kim in the café, pondering whether it had been a good idea or not. Was she about to get yet another lecture, or would the encounter be something more positive?

"How's Frank?" Kim asked once the waitress had brought over their cups.

"He's well, thank you for asking."

"Missing you at the station, I've no doubt."

"I suppose so."

"Aside from these complications are Barton Street, you are happy?"

"In my marriage, yes, very much so."

"Well, I'm glad it's all worked out."

"You didn't think that it would or should," she said, emboldened by the somewhat casual nature of their meeting.

Kim paused for a brief moment. "I had my concerns and I still believe that they were valid. It'll come as no surprise to you that I have my own views on Frank, which are doubtless different to yours."

"You don't rate him much as an officer."

Kim's eyebrows shot up. "Is that what you both think?"

"Well…"

"It's no secret that Frank and I clashed, and I think you're smart enough to know the reasons for that. But I actually believe him to be a very effective officer. Old school, but effective." She sat forwards. "But this conversation isn't really about him, is it? It's about you. Do you think you'll stay at Barton Street?"

"Even if I'm shown not to be fault, I think it would be hard to go back. I made a complaint about my DI and that hasn't gone down well." Briefly, she outlined the circumstances. "Part of me wishes I just hadn't bothered."

"You were right to raise it. I've said for far too long that the Met is an old boys club and that women need to feel valued in their roles. I must say, MS15 has been a breath of fresh air."

"Really?" she laughed. "I wouldn't have thought that."

"You'd be surprised. Oh, I know most officers don't trust us and think we're only there to cause trouble, but the reality is, every officer should want only the best to be in the Met. Only the ones who are there for the right reasons, there to make a difference. The bad apples should all be rooted out. We don't want to go back to the bad old days of the 60s and 70s with suspects getting beaten up and officers taking bribes."

"I would wager at least some of that still goes on."

"You would wager right. But there is a certain satisfaction in getting rid of those who have no place in the job. Which leads me to the purpose of this conversation."

"Which is?"

"How would you like to transfer to MS15, working under me and my team there?"

She stared at Kim for a long moment. "I'm sorry, what…?"

"It was pure fortune that I ran into you today. I was going to contact you officially in the new year but, perhaps it's a sign that we were both shopping in that supermarket."

"You want me to join MS15?"

"Why not? We have a vacancy and you're potentially going to be looking for a new role…" Kim leaned forwards. "You are the kind of officer that we need moving forwards. Passionate, ambitious and being female is, believe it or not, a help rather than a hindrance. I think you could do a lot of good work with us."

"I'm…I'm not sure…" she felt her head spin. It was a way out of her predicament at Barton Street, but at what cost? No-one trusted MS15, rightly or wrongly. Frank would have a field day at the idea…

"I know that he probably won't like the idea," Kim said, as though reading her mind, "but I'm sure even Frank would be able to see the opportunity in it."

"Yes…I suppose…"

"I'm not expecting an answer now, of course," Kim said, draining her cup, "and you would need to come in for a formal chat, so I'll write to you in the new year, and we'll see what we can set up. How does that sound?"

"Fine…yes…"

"Good. Well, I'd best dash and get this lot of shopping home. It was lovely to run into you and I'll see you again soon."

She was gone before Christina felt as though she had even drawn breath and she sat alone in the café, the coffee growing cold in front of her wondering if, perchance, she had just imagined the entire encounter.

XXXX

Fortunately, no juicy murders had landed on his desk that day and a five o'clock finish had therefore materialised. There had been no further communication with Jack about the potential for Christina to return to Sun Hill, but he couldn't help but feel extremely positive about it. The other man had practically trailed it as a possibility by mentioning that there could be an opening for a DS and he certainly hadn't been against it…all in all, it was, to his mind, a very successful end to a rather bumpy 1992.

Getting home to tell her about it was clearly uppermost in his mind, so he had eschewed the offer of drinks with the troops in favour of leaving on time, buying some last-minute flowers at the garage around the corner before practically skipping into the flat where he found her waiting for him.

"Hello darling," he greeted her with a kiss. "These are for you."

"They're lovely, thank you," she replied, and he couldn't help but notice a distinct lift in her mood from that morning. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good as it happens," he replied, following her into the kitchen and watching as she retrieved a vase from the cupboard and began arranging the flowers in it. "In fact, downright brilliant I'd say."

"Really? Well, mine was pretty good too as it goes."

"Did you hear something about the investigation?"

"No," she made a face. "It wasn't that; it was better…I think."

"Well, I've got some news too, but you can go first."

"Ok…" she took a breath. "I was in the supermarket picking up a few bits and bobs and I ran into Kim."

"Kim who?"

"Kim Reid."

"Christ, lucky you," he made a face. "I'm sure she was just the person you were looking to see."

"Well, it turned out to be quite a fortuitous meeting actually. She took me for coffee…"

"Took you for coffee? You are blessed. No doubt she wanted to grill you about your marriage to me, make sure you aren't still being abused."

"She was asking after you very kindly actually," she said, lifting the now full vase onto the window ledge.

"I bet she was."

"Anyway, long story short…she offered me a job."

He paused; unsure he had heard correctly. "A job? What job?"

"A job at MS15. They've got a vacancy for a DS there and, well, she thought that it would be a good move for me. She'd heard about what's been going on at Barton Street and…"

"MS15?! You're joking!"

"I'm not joking, and neither was she. It was a genuine offer."

"One which I hope you're not going to take up."

She paused and he watched as some of the earlier elation slowly left her face. "She said that she would contact me in the new year and…well, I'm seriously thinking about it."

"Christina…darling…" he stepped forward and put his arms around her waist. "You cannot go and work at MS15. It'll be the death of your career!"

"My career's not exactly alive and kicking right now as it is."

"If you go there, you'll never get back on division, not to mention the fact that no-one would ever trust you again! There would be no more chats with your former colleagues about their cases. Not with Jim or Viv or any of them. They'll all be too worried that you're going to have them written up for something and as for me…"

"What about you? You haven't done anything that MS15 need to know about, have you?"

"No, well not recently anyway." He smiled on her look. "Besides, you don't have to worry about it. I spoke to Meadows today and the Sun Hill resourcing budget is looking good for 1993. We're looking to take on another DS."

"So?"

"So…" he squeezed her gently. "I'd say it's an eighty percent certainty that you'd get it."

"Me?" she blinked. "But, what about everything that happened before?"

"I told Meadows that we accept all that, but that you're a great officer who knows the ground and the people and there would be no better place for you. Besides, he was very sympathetic about what's happening at Barton Street."

"So, I could just come back? Just like that?"

"Well, he said he'd need to talk it over with Conway and Brownlow…"

"Of course," she shifted out of his embrace, "and neither of them are going to give it the green light, are they? Not after the song and dance that was made about it after we got married."

"I said, and I know Meadows agrees, that that was five months ago now, and it's been a good eighteen months since the whole business about us came out the first time. People move on, they forget. I know it makes sense, you know it makes sense, Meadows knows it makes sense…all he has to do is convince the pair of them and Bob's your uncle; you're back!" He'd hoped that she might have been slightly more excited at the prospect, but the look of trepidation on her face told a different story. "Don't you believe me?"

"Of course I believe you but forgive me for being a bit cynical about it. I don't think for one minute that Brownlow's going to let me come back. It wouldn't look good after forcing me out in the first place."

"That was done to appease certain people, and the public, that's all. Nobody would care now if you came back."

"Oh well, I'm glad all the fuss at Barton Street has been worth it then!" Turning her back on him she moved back into the living room and over to the window. "Makes me feel even more like the sacrificial lamb."

Confused, he followed her. "I don't understand. Don't you want to come back?"

She turned back to face him. "Truthfully? I don't know. The minute I walk back in there, people are going to start whispering about me again, about us."

"So?"

"So, I don't know if I want that."

"And you think if you go to MS15 they're not going to whisper about you there? Come on, let's face it, Reid's no fool. She probably only wants you to go there because there are certain people in the Met who still think I'm bent! Her included! She's probably hoping to use you to get to me somehow."

Her face dropped. "Is that what you really think? That she didn't ask me because she rates my abilities and only did so because of some vendetta you think she has against you?"

"Well…" he faltered, "I'm not saying that exactly but…what does it matter? Sun Hill is by far the better option. It'll be just like the old days. Both of us in CID together, you working under me, right in my eyeline from my office…"

She exhaled sharply and shook her head. "Maybe I don't want that anymore."

"What are you talking about?"

"Maybe I don't want to work under you anymore. Maybe I want to go somewhere that I can be me, Christina Lewis."

"Well, I've told you, you won't get that at MS15, and look what happened at Barton Street."

"So, my only prospects from now until the end of my career is working under you? I can never move away from you, never surpass you?"

"Surpass me?"

"You never know. I might make DCI before you do."

There was a challenge in her expression that both unnerved and excited him and that he'd learned to realise meant that the conversation, any conversation, was about to go down a road that could ultimately lead to one of two things: amazing sex or ill-feeling. He obviously always hoped for the former but had often found the latter instead and it wasn't something he wanted to risk in the last few hours of 1992.

"Well, nothing's going to happen now until the new year, is it? Let's see what Brownlow and Conway say, see what Reid comes back to you with and you can take it from there."

She narrowed her eyes. "Is this you being diplomatic in the hope of getting sex from me tonight?"

"Is it working?" he moved towards her again and pulled her into his arms. "Why don't you go and get changed and then we can go out for a few drinks and then…" he brushed his lips against hers, "we can see what happens after that."

Nodding, she moved away from him towards the door. "She said you were a very effective officer."

"Who?"

"Kim Reid."

"Well, that's at least one thing I can credit her for knowing something about," he winked as she left the room, growing serious once he was alone again.

There was no way in hell she was going to MS15, not if he had any influence over her. No, it would be Sun Hill and Sun Hill alone.