30 August 1991

"So, it's tomorrow then."

"Yes, it's tomorrow." She wrapped the phone cord around her fingers. "Ten o'clock."

"What do you reckon he'll get?"

"I don't know. The lawyer from CPS said anything between five and ten would be appropriate."

"He better get more than five years after what he did to you! You could have died!"

She closed her eyes, well aware that her father was only saying what so many others already had, but knowing that did nothing to help how she was feeling about what was to come. "I know that Dad. It doesn't mean that I feel good about it."

"No, of course not." He paused. "Do you want some good news?"

"Go on then."

"CPS have dropped the receiving charge against me. Looks like I live to fight another day."

"Oh…" she felt surprised. "That is good news."

"Yeah, I thought so."

"You'll need to try and stay out of trouble from now on. You might not be as lucky next time."

"I know." He paused. "Will you visit him, do you think? Stewart?"

She digested his question, well aware that it was a loaded one, steeped in their own personal history when she had effectively cut him off when he himself had been imprisoned. "No, I don't think so. I doubt he would want me to."

"Well, you never know. Mind and ring me tomorrow and let me know the sentence."

"I will."

"And try and get a good night's sleep, love."

"Thanks Dad. Night." Slowly, she replaced the receiver and then stood simply staring at it. She was relieved that he wasn't going to be prosecuted and yet, there had almost been a comfort in the fact that he had been charged, that he hadn't changed as much as he had professed to, that she had been right to keep a low level of contact all these years. Part of her had, somewhat shamefully, considered that if he had gone back inside, it would have been the perfect excuse she would have needed just to cut him off, even though he hadn't done anything of late to warrant it. And yet, what would she have achieved other than alienating yet another person from her life.

Stewart's mother had left numerous messages on her answering machine over the last few days, desperate to talk about what was going to happen at court, desperate to understand what had gone so wrong between them. She hadn't returned any of her calls, unwilling to get into it with her, unwilling to have to admit to her part in her son's downfall. Instead, she had simply stopped answering the phone and deleting any messages that were left.

She stepped away from the phone and back into the kitchen to switch on the kettle, buying into the typically British attitude that a cup of tea could solve everything. Just as the water came to boil, the doorbell rang and she froze knowing, with absolute certainty, who it would be. Since he had pulled rank on her over Sophie Brennan, there had been an unmistakable and familiar atmosphere between them that had led Ted to roll his eyes and mutter 'not again' as they had sidestepped each other around the station. And yet, despite all that, she had known that he would make contact with her that night, one way or another, indeed she had expected it.

"Oh good, you're here," he said when she opened the door. "I wasn't sure if you might be round Martella's. Sister solidarity in advance of tomorrow."

"No, I'm here," she replied somewhat unnecessarily. "She's going to meet me at court in the morning. Do you want to come in?"

"Thanks very much," he replied, stepping inside. "I thought you might have insisted on keeping me on the doorstep."

"And give the neighbours something to talk about? I was just about to make some tea; do you want some?"

"Yeah, that would be great, thanks, though I feel like I've been swimming in the stuff all day. I've got paperwork coming out of my ears."

"When do you ever not?"

"Well, that's certainly true." He hovered behind her. "You…uh…feeling all right?"

"As much as I can be, I suppose," she replied, mixing sugar into his cup and then turning to face him, "but I'll be glad when it's all over."

"You and me both." Silence descended as they sat down at the table. "I'm not going to apologise for what happened with Sophie Brennan, if that's what you're waiting for." Momentarily taken aback by his words, she said nothing. "I had every right to pull you out. You can't be having screaming matches with victims in the front office."

"I think 'screaming' is a bit of an over exaggeration…"

"Do you?" he looked at her pointedly. "I happen to disagree. Regardless of what's going on in your personal life, you have to be professional." He paused. "That being said, I don't like it when there's an atmosphere between us."

"No, neither do I."

"So…can we leave it there?" She nodded. "Good. Anyway, Jack Porter's remanded awaiting his trial and Sophie's in a shelter, so no danger from her husband, hopefully."

"Hopefully." She sipped her tea. "But I suppose you never know."

"No. How are you feeling about tomorrow?" She shrugged. "There's nothing you can do."

"I know."

"Whatever's going to happen is going to happen."

"I know," she sighed. "You're not telling me anything I haven't told myself a million times. I know what he did was wrong, I know I could have died but…" she trailed off and looked down into the inky depths of her cup. "I still feel like shit that it's come to this. The last place I ever expected him to end up…" she broke off as the phone in the living room suddenly rang and a knot of anxiety twisted in her stomach.

He looked to the phone and then back at her. "Are you going to answer that?"

"No," she said quietly, well aware of who it would be. It rang another five times before the answering machine clicked on.

"Christina, it's Elizabeth again. I really wish you would call me back. I need to talk to you about Stewart. Please call me when you get this."

"Elizabeth?"

"Stewart's mum. She's been calling me every day for about a week now, sometimes twice a day."

"If she's hassling you…"

"She's not, it's…I can understand why she wants to know things. This whole situation has probably hit her hardest of all."

"What, harder than it's hit you?"

"He's her son and, in her eyes, he can do no wrong." She shook her head. "However I end up feeling tomorrow, no doubt she'll feel ten times worse."

He shifted in his chair and looked away. "I'll be there tomorrow, if you want me there."

She looked up quickly, surprised that he had felt the need to caveat what he had said. "Yes, I want you there, of course I do."

"Right then."

"I suppose…well I suppose I just wondered if you'd want to be there, especially given we don't know what's going to be said."

"You think I care what his oily git of a lawyer says about me? You need me, so I'll be there."

She felt a warm rush of feeling as their gazes locked and, once again, her emotions tipped in the way they had been want to do of late, swinging one way and then the other. Hearing him say the words and knowing that he meant them was like a warm security blanket shrouding her from everything that was potentially about to come. She wanted to wrap herself into him and allow him to protect her. But the cold finger of doubt lingered, pulling at the threads of the blanket and trying to remove her from it. "I'm glad you'll be there."

He drained his cup and got to his feet. "I'll see you in the morning then."

"Yeah…" she rose and followed him to the door. "Ten o'clock sharp."

"I'll be there." The phone suddenly rang again, and he turned to face her. "Do you want me to answer it?"

"No, just leave it."

The answering machine clicked and, this time, a man's voice filled the air, strained and angry sounding.

"Christina, it's David. The least you can do is pick up the bloody phone and call us! Ring us back, please."

"Who's that?"

"It's Stewart's brother. It's all right…"

"It's not all right if that's going to go on all night! What's the number? I'll ring them back and give them a piece of my mind!"

He made to move past her, and she took hold of his arm to stop him. "Don't, please! I can handle it."

"I'm not having you sitting here on your own all night listening to them leave messages to try and intimidate you!"

"I'll turn the machine off. Really, please…I don't want you to get involved. I don't know exactly what Stewart's told them and…"

"You don't have to protect me. The only person that needs protecting in all of this is you."

"I…I don't need you to protect me," she faltered, a lump rising in her throat at the lie. "Really, I don't…"

"No?" his eyes bored into hers, as though he was trying to read the very words imprinted on her soul.

"No," the word coming out as a whisper.

"God help me…"

Before she had time to react, his arms were around her, his mouth pressed against her own and she felt the last vestige of restraint fall away. In a tangle of discarded clothes, they danced their way to the bedroom, safe in the pretence that nothing mattered in that moment outside of the physical. It was intense…passionate…hands and mouths exploring each other's bodies as though it was the very first time they had touched, and she gripped onto him and cried lustily as he made her come before accepting him, rocking with him until he spent himself inside of her and the breathless frenzy came to an end.

For the longest time after, all she could hear was his breathing, coupled with the steady thud of his heart beating against her back as they lay entwined together in a sweaty mess of bedsheets and she felt a sudden calmness.

"I should say sorry, but I don't want to," he said suddenly.

"Sorry for what?"

"Breaking my word, yet again."

She rolled onto her back to look at him. "I suppose I can forgive you."

"Well, that's very gracious of you," he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. "Regardless of what happens or where we go from here…I love you."

"I love you too," she said. "I wish…I wish it was simple."

"Nothing in life ever is, is it?"

"No." Tears pricked her eyes and she shuffled further into him, burying her face in his neck so that he wouldn't necessarily see them, even though she felt it was impossible to hide anything from him. "Can you stay with me?"

He tightened his arms around her. "As long as you want me to."

31 August

The paperwork he had left on his desk the previous evening still sat, almost mocking him, when he returned to the station the following morning. He had only intended on going to see how Christina was and then returning to finish it but, well, events had taken a different course and the only place he had wanted to be was in her bed, holding her, as if it was perhaps the last time. Morning had broken early, the thin shafts of light awakening him, and he had slid out from under her successfully without rousing her and had even managed to dress and get halfway to the front door before she had startled him.

"Sneaking out?" she had said, leaning against the bedroom doorframe, watching him.

"I didn't want to wake you," he'd replied. "Figured you could do with as much rest as possible."

She had come to him then, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, her body warm and soft, and he had been so very tempted to go back to bed with her. But practicality had won out and he knew he needed to show his face at the station before court.

"Thank you," she had said, looking up at him.

"What for?"

"Everything."

"Frank, I'm glad you're here. You've saved me a phone call."

Kim's voice broke into his reverie, and he jumped and looked up to see her standing in his office doorway. "Yeah, well you know me, Ma'am, I like to put in the hours."

"Yes…I'm supposed to be attending a meeting with Mr Conway and Councillor Hammond, discussing various ways on improving our relations on the local estates, building on the work that we've already done this year."

"Sounds thrilling."

"Well, unfortunately, I've just been called into Area by ACC Renshaw and so I was hoping that you would be able to take my place at the meeting."

"That's fine, Ma'am, not a problem."

"Good. I'm sorry for the late notice, but it starts in ten minutes. Shouldn't take more than a couple of hours at the most."

Glancing at his watch, he said that it was almost nine and panic suddenly rippled through him. "A couple of hours?"

"Yes," she began rifling through a paper folder. "I realise it's short notice, but I have all of my notes here…"

"I can't Ma'am, not this morning."

Kim paused and blinked, "Why not?"

"It's Stewart Church's court case today. It's calling at ten and I need to be there for Christina."

"Oh, of course…" Kim mused for a moment. "Well, I realise that it's difficult, Frank, but this meeting has already been rearranged twice at our request so I think it would be improper to cancel it once again."

"Well…" he cast around wildly, "can't someone else go? Ted or Alistair perhaps?"

"No, I'm afraid not. It needs a senior officer and you're the only one available."

"But I'm not available, Ma'am, as I've just told you. I need to be at court."

"I understood that Viv was going to be accompanying Christina to court?"

"She is, but…"

"It's not a departmental outing, Frank, it's a court case. I think we all know what's going to happen to Stewart Church and I doubt having everyone there, mob-handed, is really going to make any great difference."

"It's not about being there, mob-handed," he retorted angrily. "It's about me being there!"

Kim paused before stepping inside his office and closing the door behind her. "You're in danger of becoming unprofessional, Frank."

"Am I."

"Yes, you are. I am asking you to attend a meeting in my stead as the next in line and your refusal…"

"My refusal is based upon the fact that I need to be there for a member of my team. Makes no odds that it's Christina. It could be any one of them and I would be there." He paused on her look. "Look Ma'am, I'm not trying to be difficult…"

"Aren't you?"

"No, but it's a matter of priorities, can't you see that?"

"Oh yes," she nodded. "Yes, I see very clearly Frank, make no mistake about that. I'm sorry, I realise that you're in a difficult position but as your senior officer I am ordering you to attend that meeting."

"And if I don't?"

"I would be very careful, Frank. Don't think for one moment that all eyes in this station aren't on you today." Dropping the folder on his desk, she stepped back. "I'll expect a full briefing after the meeting.

"Shit!" he swore viciously once she had gone and quickly lifted the phone, punching in Christina's number and cursing once more as it simply continued to ring out. After they had made love, he had made a point of switching off both the phone ringer and the answering machine, determined that she shouldn't be plagued by Stewart's family. Only, he had forgotten to switch them back on again. "Bollocks!"

"Problem Guv?"

Looking up quickly, he saw Jim standing in the doorway. "James, I need you to do me a huge favour."

"What sort of favour?"

"I need you to head down to the court. Stewart's case is calling today, and I'm supposed to be there, only her Ladyship has got me backed into a corner to attend some meeting on her behalf. I need you to explain to Chris why I'm not there."

"Well, I didn't think she wanted us all there and I'm supposed to be getting those warrants, you know to raid Dave Finch's lock-ups over the armed robbery."

"Stuff Dave Finch! What's more important, nicking a villain or being there for your colleague?"

A look of surprise crossed the other man's face. "Well, coming from you, Guv…"

"Just go, will you? And tell her…tell her I'm sorry."

"Right Guv," Jim turned, an expression of bemusement on his face, just as Derek came striding into the room.

"Frank, are you coming to this meeting? Reid tells me she's having to go to Area instead, worse luck."

"Yeah," he replied, lifting the folder and internally cursing Kim Reid with every name he could think of. "Worse luck indeed."

XXXX

"Look, you don't have to put yourself through this," Viv said, leaning against the bathroom sinks. "There's no law that says you need to be here. Whether you are or not isn't going to make any difference to the sentence, is it?"

"I'm fine," Christina replied, gazing at her reflection in the mirror, pale and wan under the harsh strip lights. "I need to be here, but I'm glad you're here too."

"Yeah, well you've looked decidedly ropey since I picked you up. Did you get any sleep last night?"

She felt her face flush slightly and compensated by dabbing on some extra blusher. "A bit." When she thought back, all she could see…feel…taste, was him. She hadn't been wrong; she wished it could be simple. Lying in bed with him, it had felt as though it could be, but then reality had hit her as morning had arrived. Stepping back from the sink, she took a deep breath. "Ready as I'll ever be, I suppose." They stepped back out into the foyer and her eyes roamed the corridor, hoping to catch sight of him, needing to feel his presence with her. Instead, her gaze fell on Stewart's parents, coming through the open front door, followed swiftly by his brother and his wife. "Shit."

"What is it?" Viv asked, following her gaze. "Who's that?"

"Stewart's family." She felt her stomach turn over as they came towards her, Elizabeth's face alight with expectation. "I don't know what to say to them…"

"Christina…" Elizabeth greeted her carefully. "I've called…we've all tried to call…"

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Why haven't you rung us back?" David demanded, stepping in front of his mother. "All we wanted to do was talk to you about this…this mess…"

"I don't think there's really anything to say, is there?" she said, hoping they would step back, move away, give her space. "I don't know what you want from me."

"But how could it come to this? How could it? I mean, stabbing you? It's just not Stewart. Why would he do that?" Elizabeth's eyes swam with tears. "He loves you so much…why would he ever do that?"

She glanced at Viv and could see a trace of confusion in her expression. Of course, she had told her friend that she had visited Stewart's family, told them about her affair and yet now, here they were, acting as if they had no clue at all. "I'm sorry," was all she felt she could say, her eyes moving past them, desperately watching each person that came through the door.

Where was he?

David moved closer to her, "But you must be able to tell us…"

"Chris!" she started suddenly at a voice to her left and, turning, saw Jim and Tosh making their way through the crowd towards her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her gaze flitting between them, her stomach growing icy cold.

"Burnside asked me to come down and tell you that he'd been forced to go to a meeting by the DCI and he wouldn't be able to be here. He sends his apologies."

Her heart plummeted to the floor. "Oh…oh right…"

"When I found out, I told Jim that we should just come and stay," Tosh butted in.

"But…" she looked at Viv who merely shook her head. "It's really kind of you but, honestly, I don't need you here."

"We want to be here," Tosh continued, "don't we Jim?"

"That's right. We're your mates and besides," he glanced over towards Stewart's family, who had thankfully stepped back, yet still had their gazes trained on her. "Safety in numbers, eh?"

She opened her mouth to protest, to tell them go, desperate for them not to be there to hear what might be said, but then her name was called again, and she turned once more to see the CPS lawyer making his way towards her.

"How are you, Mrs Church?"

"I'm…I'm fine, but…" she glanced around at all the people who appeared to be watching her and moved slightly to the side. "Do you…do you know what the defence are going to say?"

"About what?"

"Well, about me. Are they going to say anything about…me and…?"

"Your husband's solicitor is very experienced and I'm sure he'll do everything he can to put forward as much mitigation for your husband as is appropriate, but he's not unkind with it. I doubt he'll say anything that will embarrass you."

"But you don't know?"

He opened his mouth to respond, only for the clerk of court to call that the case was due to begin. "I'm sorry, I must go. Try and not worry." With a light pat on her arm, he disappeared down the corridor and all she could do was allow herself to be swept along with everyone else inside the courtroom.

Whether by design or not, Viv deliberately steered her to the left-hand side of the room, positioning herself on one side whilst Jim and Tosh sat on the other. Stewart's parents sat further down and slightly in front, and she found her gaze locked on the back of Elizabeth's head.

"It's certainly busy," Jim commented. "That lot over there look like Drugs Squad."

Tearing her gaze away from her mother-in-law, she looked over to the other side of the room and instantly recognised a number of faces, not least of all, Harry Grimm's. He caught her gaze but offered nothing to her by way of support.

She needed him, needed Frank badly, needed him there to hold her hand, comfort her, tell her it was all going to be all right. She wasn't sure she could do it without him. "I need to go," she whispered to Viv. "I don't think I can do this…"

She was suddenly cut off as the room was brought to order and the judge came onto the bench. Moments later, a door at the side of the room opened and Stewart came in. He was dressed smartly, in a suit and tie, and she watched as he caught sight of his family and smiled gently, almost reassuringly, at them before his gaze found hers.

Her breath caught in her throat. It was the first time she had seen him, the first time they had looked upon each other since that February afternoon and, like a bad dream, she saw the whole horrid scene play out in her mind's eye, along with the sound of her own screaming. He showed no emotion towards her, none at all, as if they were perfect strangers rather than two people who had shared a life together, and then simply dropped his gaze.

The CPS lawyer spoke first, setting the scene and explaining the facts and circumstances of the case. He spoke dispassionately about what had happened in the house that afternoon, placing particular emphasis on the fact that her injury could have been fatal had she not been found by a colleague. To her relief, he didn't elaborate further on who that had been, and she found herself hoping and praying that the defence solicitor would be equally as vague.

When Stewart's lawyer got to his feet, Viv threaded her hand through hers and she found herself grateful for the contact, even if, with every part of her being, she wished it came from a different quarter.

"My Lord, Mr Church was a highly decorated Met police officer, a man who served for a long number of years with distinction. Indeed, he received two commendations for bravery in that time. In June of 1990, however, he was shot in the back during an operation, an injury that left him temporarily incapacitated and resulted in him being transferred to an administrative role, having been told that he would never meet the fitness criteria for front line operation again. Mr Church found that very difficult to deal with and sought refuge in alcohol which, sadly, eventually led to him losing his job altogether." The solicitor paused. "By the time of the attack on his wife, My Lord, Mr Church was, by his own admission, an alcoholic. His wife had left him, and he felt very much in the pit of despair. He wanted to reconcile with his wife, the love of his life, which was the reason for him asking her to attend at their home that day, but reconciliation was to prove impossible, particularly after he discovered that she had been having an extra-marital affair with a senior office at Sun Hill police station a fact, I understand, with which the prosecution takes no issue."

Oh God…

She heard the murmurs that went around the room, the gasps that came from Stewart's family, who looked at each other and then turned to look at her and, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tosh and Jim's heads snap round towards her, whilst Viv's pressure on her hand grew stronger.

"Having discovered this, Mr Church confronted his wife, an altercation which led to her being badly injured. He gravely regrets his actions, My Lord, and is aware of what the potential consequences could have been had Mrs Church's senior officer not discovered her. He is fully aware of the sentence that likely awaits him, and I would simply ask that you take account of his previous good character and minimal record when passing judgement."

Stewart sat with his head bowed and she felt as though all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. She wanted to run, wanting to flee the room and felt her body shift as though that was exactly what she intended to do, but Viv's hand moved to her arm, anchoring her to the seat, forcing her to remain until the bitter end.

The judge consulted the papers in front of him for a moment before turning back to Stewart. "Stand up, Mr Church." Stewart rose and she could see, even from the distance, that he was trembling. "I have taken account of what has been said on your behalf and I note the very positive record that you had within the Metropolitan Police up until your own accident last year. I also appreciate how difficult it must have been for you to be, in your view, demoted and I can sympathise with your turning to alcohol. However, not even the knowledge that your wife had been unfaithful with her senior officer could ever provide justification for what happened on that day in February this year. You attacked your wife with a broken bottle, stabbed her and left her lying in a pool of her own blood. As your solicitor has said, it was only through good fortune that she survived and that you are not facing a much more serious charge. I feel I must reflect that in my sentencing of you and so, therefore, I impose a custodial sentence on you of eight years imprisonment to be backdated to the date when you were remanded in custody."

Elizabeth started to cry, and Christina heard herself gasp sharply. Her eyes swivelled once more to Stewart, who showed no emotion as he was handcuffed and led back out of the room, never once causing to look at her again.

"What the hell?" Jim said quietly, turning to her as the clerk indicated the court was dismissed.

"Not now, Jim," Viv said.

"But that lawyer said…"

"Not now!"

"Is it true?" his expression was pleading, as though he was desperate for her to admit it had all been some terrible mistake. "Were you having an affair?"

Her throat was dry, words incapable of being formed, and all she could do was nod as his face fell.

"With who?!"

"Bastard," Tosh said before she could try to make any response. "I told him! I warned him!"

"Who?!" Jim turned to look at him before turning back to her. "I mean, a senior officer? Who would…?" he froze suddenly, as though the cold hand of realisation had just gripped him, telling him all the information he would ever need to know. "No…" he shook his head slowly. "Not…not Burnside…"

"An affair?!" David's voice suddenly rang out across the courtroom, and she turned to look at him. "You were having an affair?!"

"I have to get out of here," she said to Viv. "Please…please…"

"Right, come on," Viv said, taking charge. "Tosh, Jim, go that way, now!" They filed along the row, back towards the main aisle and she could see the door, see that escape was in sight…

Suddenly, she felt someone grab her from behind and twist her sharply round, and she came face to face with her brother-in-law. "You were having an affair?! You slut!"

"Get off her!" Viv said, pushing her way in between them.

"Who was it, eh? Your senior officer? No wonder he stabbed you, you whore!"

It was like a scene from a film, a typical courtroom drama. David struggled against Viv, ably backed up by Elizabeth, who was desperately trying to push her way through towards her, members of the Drugs Squad appearing at their backs as though primed to assist, Harry's florid face wearing a faintly shocked expression. Tosh joined in, fighting to hold them all back as Jim took hold of her hand and pulled her through the door, where she was suddenly besieged by several reporters that she hadn't even realised were there.

"Mrs Church…can you comment on what was just said in court?!... Mrs Church, were you having an affair with your senior officer?!...Who was it, Mrs Church?!...Is Chief Superintendent Brownlow aware of this?!...Mrs Church…!"

Carried along by Jim, she found herself pushing past them and hurrying outside, down the courtroom steps, onto the street where Jim had left the car. She threw open the passenger door and climbed quickly inside, just as the baying mob began to follow, still shouting her name. "Drive, please…!" she begged, as he gunned the engine and pulled away from the kerb with a screech. The tears came then, and she wasn't sure what she was crying over; the sentence, the fact that everyone now knew, the fact that he hadn't been there…?

"Tell me it's a mistake," Jim said softly, pulling up at a set of traffic lights. "Tell me you haven't been sleeping with him." She said nothing. "Bloody hell, Chris. Burnside, of all people…!"

"What does it matter?" she asked, wiping her cheeks. "It's over now."

He looked over at her, his expression a mixture of disbelief and distaste. "So, what was it then? Just some sort of fling?"

"Yeah, a fling," she turned away and looked out of the window. "Just a dirty little fling."

"How could you be so stupid?! He gets your knickers down, adds you to a very long list, and now your whole career, your reputation…you could have been killed…" he shook his head as they moved off again. "I never thought that you would have been taken in by him…"

"Stop it, Jim, ok?! Just stop it! You don't know what you're talking about!" A tense silence descended, and she suddenly realised that she had no idea what to do.

"So," he said tightly. "Where do you want to go?"

The city streets swept by them, and she realised that she didn't even care. Nothing mattered anymore, nothing would ever be the same. She laid her head back against the headrest, her mind going blank.

"Anywhere."