6 March 1992

"You pair should know better!" Frank raged, slamming his office door closed and causing her to jump. After a fairly sleepless night when he had occupied most of her thoughts, as requested, she had presented herself early for the promised 'bollocking' and he certainly hadn't been exaggerating about it. "Quite apart from the fact that you could have got yourself killed, now Mickey Owen knows we're onto him the chances of him doing anything dodgy out of that salon are slim to non-existent!"

"I'm sorry," Ted said.

"You bloody well should be!"

"It was an error of judgment. I should have considered matters more carefully before asking Chris to go in."

"You should have spoken to me before you did anything!" Frank pointed at him. "I am your senior officer, Ted, whether you like it or not! That means, that any little operations you want to conduct have to go through me, especially when they could be attributed to personal grudges!"

"Now that isn't fair," Ted replied. "I hate the man, yes, but with good reason and not just for what happened to Roxanne. He's a thorn in our sides, he always has been!"

"Well, there's no point in trying to nail him if you're not going to do it properly, is there? If you had cleared it with me, we could have put a proper plan in place, had backup, perhaps not made it so blinking obvious! He's laughing at us now and you know how much I hate the thought of any slag out there thinking we're the funny brigade!" He paused and looked at her. "And what do you have to say for yourself?"

She paused, momentarily thrown by his question. "Well, I…"

"I suppose you thought you were 'doing your bit' in trying to bring down a master criminal, not to mention enjoying the perks of getting yourself tarted up."

"It wasn't exactly a relaxing experience either time," she replied, "especially not when I got frogmarched into the back room!"

"And what the hell were you doing going in there?!" he demanded. "Every time you find yourself face to face with a villain do you automatically accept their invitation in for tea and cake?"

"No, but…"

"Did Mills have a weapon?"

"No."

"Were there other people about?"

"I suppose…"

"Are you or are you not a police officer?"

"Oh, I suppose I should have kicked and screamed and punched my way out of the situation, should I?" she demanded, feeling irritated. There was giving her a bollocking and then there was just being a prick and he was veering towards the latter. "For all I knew he did have a weapon! Besides, what if I'd been able to find something when I was in the back room? It might have helped!"

"Yeah, and what if you'd got your head blown off or your virtue robbed?"

"Look, this is my fault," Ted intervened again. "The blame lies at my door, not hers."

"Well at least we agree on something." Frank paused and looked at them both. "I'm not saying that I don't applaud your initiative, but I do expect a little more collegiality and cooperation from those who are supposed to be on my firm. I might be acting DCI now, but that doesn't mean I get kept in the dark! Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Guv," she said.

"Right, well I'm sure the pair of you have got a ton of official work to be getting on with, so let's cut the slacking and get down to it, all right?"

"I'm sorry," Ted said, as they made their way back to their desks. "I had no idea Mickey would react like that."

"Well, all he did was offer me a drink, no harm done."

"No, but Burnside's right. It could have been a lot worse, and I didn't think it through properly. I am sorry."

It was the first time she thought she had ever seen Ted looked sincerely contrite. "Apology accepted, but next time I think you'd better do as he says. He is the boss."

"I know," he lit up a cigarette, "and he's all right so far as bosses go."

"You weren't saying that a few years ago."

"Neither were you."

"I guess not." She lifted her gaze to look through Frank's window and saw him watching her. Immediately, she felt her face flame and lowered her gaze back to the many piles of papers that littered her desk.

"Oh no…"

"What?" she looked across to see a look of barely concealed disapproval on Ted's face. "What is it?"

"I saw that look. You're not telling me…not again?"

"What?"

"You and him?"

She glanced around quickly, gratified that there was no-one else in the room, yet irritated that he had so easily picked up on how she was feeling. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't give me that," he said, blowing smoke in her direction. "I've seen that look a thousand times. Don't tell me, he went to your place last night to make sure you were all right and you spent the night swinging from the chandelier together."

"No, that's not what happened, actually," she replied. "He never touched me." It wasn't strictly true, given they had, at the very least, held hands, but she knew that wasn't what he was alluding to.

"Dear God…"

"Ted, give it a rest."

"Are you going to do this dance again?"

"It's none of your business what we do."

"No, you can bet your bottom dollar it isn't, and don't expect me to cover up for you either. If you pair are determined to ruin your careers, after everything that's already happened, then that's up to you."

"Nothing happened between us."

"If I believe that, I'll believe anything." He shook his head. "You're insane."

"Yeah, and you're a shit stirrer," she leaned forwards. "You told me what he had said to you about me in order to force me to agree to go to the salon without telling him. You've spent the whole last year going back and forth, loving the fact that you were party to something secret and using it to your advantage. Making little digs and comments whenever you could…don't you come over all holier than thou now."

"I think you'll find I'm not the only person aware of your secret now." He sighed. "So, you are going to start it again?"

"Like I said, it's none of your business." She picked up the report she had been working on the previous day, the one regarding surveillance for the sexual attacks and, getting to her feet, walked back over to his office, knocking on the door before pushing it open. "I did some work on that plan for you, Guv."

He looked up at her and she felt her insides unashamedly quiver. "Which plan?"

"The one about mounting an obbo regarding these sex attacks." She put the paper down on his desk. "It's a bit rough, but I thought you could have a look over it, give me some pointers and I can clean it up before you take it to Brownlow."

"Perfect, thanks. Quick work." His eyes trailed movement behind her and she turned in time to see Ted hurry out of the office leaving it deserted, shooting them both a look as he left, "What's his problem?"

"He's guessed."

"Guessed what?"

"What do you think?"

"Oh, I see…" he sat back in his chair and surveyed her, his eyes roaming over her body. "What did you tell him?"

"Nothing, other than whatever he thought, it was none of his business."

"Best to keep it that way, I suppose."

"Yes." She could feel a low hum vibration between them, emphasised by the silence of the room around them. His gaze was locked on hers and she felt the stirrings of arousal between her legs as she imagined him getting up, coming around his desk, taking her in his arms…

"I called Pat," he said suddenly, breaking the tension. "Told her you'd be joining us on Sunday."

"Oh, right. What did she say?"

"Said she was looking forward to meeting you, though I suspect grilling you might be more on her agenda. She's a nosy cow, our Pat, but a heart of gold, nonetheless. She'd have to be to put up with that husband and three kids."

"Well, I'm looking forward to it."

"Good."

She felt a sudden sense of awkwardness, so strange after all they had done and shared together in the past, but perhaps due in no small measure to their new status of 'courting', something she still found amusing whenever she thought about it. "Right, well I'd best get on and you can let me know about that plan."

"Oh, I will, don't worry." A smile played at the corner of his mouth, and she found herself blushing again.

"Stop it," she said, backing away from his desk.

"Stop what?"

"You know what."

"I have committed no sin," he spread his hands, "well, other than in my mind."

At that moment, Tosh and Viv came into the office, putting paid to any further ambiguous conversation and she found herself grateful for the distraction of others. Whilst there was something exciting about it, she couldn't help but think that this whole business of courting could ultimately prove rather frustrating.

8 March

"I thought we said twelve?"

"We did," she replied, stepping inside the flat and turning her back on him as she hurried back into the bathroom, "I'm just running a bit behind."

He closed the front door behind him and moved into the living room to wait for her, the soft sound of the radio from the kitchen wafting to greet him. The entire drive over, he had felt nervous, not at seeing her or spending time with her, but at introducing her to his family. When he'd spoken to his sister the previous evening, simply to confirm the time, he had detected a note of impatient excitement in her tone, as though she was eagerly anticipating meeting Christina and dissecting her. He could only hope that nothing bad or awkward would be said or done. It was only now that he considered he perhaps should have filled Pat in a little more about the background to their relationship and everything that had happened since, so she could have forewarned her husband, and their mother, about safe topics of conversation.

"Sorry," she said, coming into the room to join him. "I must have changed outfit about five times. Do I look all right?"

"It's my sister's for Sunday lunch, not the Ritz," he replied, looking her up and down, taking in the tight jeans that clung to the shapeliness of her legs and the oversized jumper that hung slightly off one shoulder, revealing a chaste amount of flesh, but enough to raise his blood pressure. "You look perfect."

"Oh, thanks," she pinked slightly. "You don't look so bad yourself. Shall we go?"

"Someone's keen," he observed as they stepped back outside, and she locked the door behind her.

"Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"No, I suppose not."

"I mean, they are your family. I'd like to get to know them."

"As I'm sure they'd like to get to know you," he unlocked the car door. "Been a long time since I've taken anyone home to meet them. Not since I started going out with Julie and that wasn't yesterday."

"What, you've never introduced them to any other girlfriends?" she queried, pulling on her seatbelt.

"I've never had any other girlfriends since my divorce."

"Oh."

"Men don't usually invite random women they sleep with home to meet their mothers."

"No, I guess they don't. Oh, would you mind stopping round the corner so I can pick up some flowers?"

"What for?"

"For your mum and your sister."

"They won't be expecting flowers."

"Maybe not, but it's still nice to take something…isn't it?" He looked over at her, at the slightly questioning expression on her face. "I mean, much like you haven't taken anyone home to meet them since your wife, I haven't been taken home to meet anyone since I met Stewart's parents and I was only a kid then."

"Yeah, all right, I'll stop." A few minutes later, he pulled up in front of a row of shops and switched off the engine.

"What kind of flowers do they like?" she asked.

"How would I know?" Making a face, she got out of the car and hurried across into the florists, emerging five minutes later with two bouquets of pink and white flowers which she placed delicately in the back seat before climbing back in beside him. "Bloody hell."

"What?"

"Nothing." He pulled away from the kerb again and turned in the direction of his sister's home. "You don't have to try too hard you know."

"Taking flowers isn't trying too hard, is it?"

"Not just the flowers. You don't have to try and impress them, if that's what you're thinking about trying to do."

She paused, "Well, I'm not sure there's much about me that could impress them."

"Don't you believe it. Successful, female police detective and beautiful to boot. I reckon they'll be impressed before you even open your mouth."

"Is that important to you?"

The question caught him slightly off guard and he was gratified to be driving and therefore requiring keeping his eyes on the road ahead. "How do you mean?"

"Do you want them to be impressed?"

"I want them to like you, naturally." He glanced over at her. "Stewart's folks' opinion mattered to you, didn't it?"

"Of course." She paused again. "How much do they know?"

"About what?"

"Come on, you know about what. How much do they know about me…my background…us?"

"Well, Pat knows you were married when it started between us, she knows that Stewart stabbed you and I reckon given the initial press coverage after he was sentenced, she's worked out that I was the senior officer referred to in court."

"So, you've never really spoken about it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

As he pulled to a halt at a set of lights, he looked over and met her gaze. There was nothing incriminating or accusatory in it, and yet he couldn't help but feel probed. "Suppose I took the view that it wasn't really any of their business what I did with my life or who I did it with. I don't think Pat particularly approved of our affair but…"

"But she would want you to be happy."

"Yeah, I guess she would."

Reaching across, she put her hand over his and smiled, "That's what I want too."

He held her gaze marvelling, not for the first time, at how lucky he was that she wanted to be with him and that the road ahead now seemed somewhat less bumpy, if not completely clear. Many of the remaining obstacles could be overcome given time and luck. He could have looked at her forever, had the honking of horns behind him not reminded him where he was, and he pulled away from the lights before turning into Pat's street and bringing the car to a halt outside her house.

"I got a letter from my solicitor on Friday," she said suddenly as he switched off the engine. "We've managed to agree the financial settlement, so it looks like I should have my decree nisi within the next month or so. Hopefully I'll be fully divorced by the summer."

"Well, that's good news."

"Yeah, it is." She was smiling, but he could see the wistful note of regret in her eyes, understandable after everything that had happened.

"The rest of your life awaits," he said, reaching over and tucking her hair behind her ear. "It'll be all right."

"I know." She paused. "I love you."

"I love you too." Leaning across, he brushed his lips against hers, only to suddenly be distracted by movement at the front door and the unmistakable figure of his sister peering out towards the car. "Heads up, we're being watched. You ready?"

She smiled again, "As I'll ever be."

XXXX

"Hello gorgeous," he said, sweeping his sister into an embrace. "You're looking good on it."

"What a load of old cobblers," Pat said, swiping him playfully. "This must be Christina then."

She felt her stomach flip over as the other woman cast her gaze over her, her expression kind yet curious, and she wasn't quite sure what to say or do other than hold out the flowers. "These are for you, and your mother."

"Oh, you shouldn't have, how very kind," Pat took them from her. "Well, come away in the pair of you. The roast's almost done."

Frank raised his eyebrows at her before leading her inside the house where the mouth-watering smell of cooked meat greeted her. The sound of the television wafted out into the hallway and Frank opened a door to the right where she could see a man sitting on the couch. "All right Gerry?"

"Hello Frank," the man said, getting to his feet. "Long time no see."

"Pressures of work." He gestured to her. "This is Christina. Christina, this is Gerry, Pat's other half."

"Her better half," Gerry replied, reaching for her hand. "Nice to meet you love."

"And you," she replied, returning the gesture. "It's kind of you to invite me."

"Oh, don't thank me, it's all Pat's doing. Desperate to get her eyes on you she was."

"Uncle Frank!"

Before she could reply to his comment, a shout went up from the hallway and two boys rushed into the room and threw themselves at Frank, almost knocking him backwards.

"Bloody hell, you pair have got strong!" he exclaimed. "Christina, these are my nephews. This is Danny, this is Jake and this lanky one…" he gestured to an older, taller boy who was lounging in the doorway, "is Philip."

"Nice to meet you," she said.

"Are you Uncle Frank's friend?" Danny said, looking at her curiously.

"No, shit for brains, she's his girlfriend," Philip said.

"That's enough," Gerry said. "You know better, Phil." Rolling his eyes, Philip turned back down the corridor in the direction of the kitchen. "Sorry about that. He's at that age where civil conversation is almost impossible."

"That's all right, I've heard worse in my time."

"I bet you have."

"Where's Mum?" Frank asked.

"Where do you think?" Gerry replied. "I swear Pat's at her wits end with her. I don't know how many times she has to tell her to get an appointment with the doctor before she'll do it. I mean, it's not natural spending all that time in the bog, is it? Even at her age."

"Haven't you offered our guests a drink yet?" Pat demanded, coming back into the room. "What must they think we're like?"

"It's Frank and his lady friend, not the King and Queen," Gerry replied, before turning back to her. "What do you fancy, love? Sherry? Vodka? There's wine too if you'd prefer."

"Oh, I'm not that fussed…" she replied, suddenly feeling awkward again and wondering whether they expected her to drink or not. "A soft drink would do me."

"Have a glass of wine," Frank said, sitting down on the couch. "I'll take a scotch if you've got any."

"What do you think?" Gerry grinned before disappearing back out of the room, leaving them alone together.

She sat down on the couch next to him, her gaze trailing around the room. It was small, but comfortable, with family photographs adorning the walls and toys and other debris on the floor in the corner.

"Relax," Frank said, reaching for her hand. "It's lunch, not an inquisition."

"Yeah, I know," she replied, just as Jake and Danny came back into the room and started regaling their uncle with talk of their latest Lego build. She watched as he engaged with them, showing interest when she could imagine, deep down, he found it boring, and she couldn't help but feel a pull inside her. Maybe he would be like this with their own children someday…

"There you go," Gerry returned with their glasses. "Your good health."

"And yours," Frank replied. "How's work anyway?"

"Oh, you know, up and down. Some weeks are busier than others."

"Gerry's a plumber."

"Well, folks are always in need of those," she said. "We had a plumber in custody once, long time ago, who helped us out at the station with some blocked drains. Still charged us mind you. Sergeant Peters wasn't impressed."

"Did he get charged with whatever he was there for?" Gerry asked.

"Probably, I can't remember."

"Then I don't blame him!" he laughed.

"What about Pat?" Frank asked.

"You know what she's like, pulling all the shifts she can. I've told her she should slacken off a bit, that there's other nurses that work at the hospital and that she's not getting any younger…"

"She won't have liked hearing that. What is she, fifty at the end of the year?"

"November," Gerry nodded. "So, don't forget."

"What are we all talking about?" Pat suddenly reappeared, wiping her hands on her apron. "Did you get me a drink, or did you just cater for yourselves?"

"I got you a drink," Gerry replied. "It's over there if you'd use your eyes." She moved across the room and lifted her own glass of wine before turning back to survey them all. "Is your mother still in the bog?"

"No, she's already sat at the table acting as though I've been starving her," Pat rolled her eyes. "Anyway, you might as well all come through, it's practically ready. Come on boys." She moved out of the room, and they followed her obediently, both of them calling upstairs for Philip, who had obviously made himself scarce.

"Can we have a chat later?" Gerry said to Frank as they rose from their seats. "It's about Phil. I'm a bit concerned he's falling in with the wrong crowd."

"Of course," Frank replied. "Just give me the nod." Placing his hand on the small of her back, he guided her along the hallway to the large kitchen dining area at the back of the house. Danny and Jake had already claimed their places at the table on either side of an older woman. "Hello Mum."

"Frankie…" she cooed, as he bent down to kiss her. "It's been too long and you're getting too thin."

"Well, at least one of those statements is probably true," he replied, turning back to wink at her. "Mum, this is Christina."

"Oh yes, of course. Nice to meet you dear."

"And you, Mrs Burnside," she replied.

"Oh, call me Dot, everyone else does. Hurry up Pat, will you? I feel as though I haven't eaten since McMillan was in Downing Street."

She took her seat next to Frank and felt him squeeze her leg under the table. Philip finally appeared and, once they were all seated, Pat began dishing up the food. What felt like a dozen different conversations began taking place, from the younger children arguing, to Gerry and Frank talking about football and Dot complaining that Philip had taken the best-looking roast potatoes. For a moment, she found herself almost frozen, watching the scene before her, and wondering how she had ended up as a part of it.

"You all right there?" Pat's voice broke into her thoughts.

"Yes, fine," she replied quickly. "It all looks delicious. You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble."

"Oh, we do this every Sunday, though it's not every week that my brother deigns us with his presence. And he certainly hasn't brought anyone home to meet us in a long time."

"No, I gathered." She helped herself to meat and veg. "It's very nice to meet you all."

"And you. I've heard a little about you from Frank, but not much." She found herself growing suddenly warm, wondering what the other woman would say next and whether she would make any reference to what she might know about their relationship or Stewart. "He seems to care very much about you, though, going by what he's said in the past."

"I care very much about him too."

"There's more to him than meets the eye you know," Pat continued. "A lot more. He presents himself one way, and I'm not saying that it's completely false, but it's not the person he is when you really get to know him. He's got a sensitive side, does our Frank. His divorce affected him more than he lets on."

"I got the impression that he and Julie were…well…"

"Not well matched?"

"I suppose…"

"Well, there's a lot of truth in that. She liked the idea of being married to a police officer, but not the issues that came with it. She took it ill out when he had to work late or do shifts. I mean, if you marry someone in that kind of profession you have to accept it. Lord knows Gerry's had to deal with all my working patterns over the years." Pat looked at her. "You'll understand, being a police officer yourself."

"Yes, I do. I can't imagine how difficult it must be being married to someone who doesn't. My ex-husband was in the job too, so at least he got it."

"Ex-husband?"

"Well…" she felt her face flame again. "Almost."

Pat didn't say anything for a long moment. "I'm not condoning any of Frank's behaviour when he was with Julie. He wasn't faithful to her by a longshot, but there were reasons for that. When the person you're meant to be closest too closes off from you, it can be hard. I'm sure you had your reasons too."

She paused, momentarily confused, "My reasons?"

"For being unfaithful."

"Oh…yes, of course." She felt the weight of the other woman's gaze on her. "But I could never be unfaithful to Frank, if that's what you're asking me."

"I'm not asking you anything," Pat replied. "I just want you to know that my brother has feelings. I don't like seeing him hurt and believe me, I've seen him hurt."

She felt a sense of irritation build inside her, as though Pat was unfairly criticising her for things that had, to some extent been outside of her own control and, yet she could understand where the other woman was coming from. "I love him," she said finally, fixing her with a gaze that she hoped conveyed everything she wanted it to.

Pat nodded and lifted her glass. "Good, that makes two of us."