"When you say the wrong crowd, what do you mean?" Frank asked Gerry as they stood by the window in the living room enjoying a post lunch drink. At the far end of the room, Dot had fallen asleep on the couch, the boys were outside, and Christina was helping Pat clear up in the kitchen. It had seemed an ideal moment to try and find out what was going on with his eldest nephew.

"He's been skipping school," Gerry replied, "and hanging out with a gang of boys who are older than him."

"He's in his final year, isn't he?"

"Yes, and he's got the brains to actually make something of his life. He talked at one point about wanting to become a teacher, but that all seems to have gone south. He's got exams coming up over the next few months and he's barely looked at a book. He's started smoking too, which is something he'd never have done before. I'm worried about him, Frank, and so is Pat. He's been out all night sometimes and the attitude we get off him is unbelievable. I mean, you know Phil, he's always been a good boy."

"Yeah," he mused. "Do you know who any of these older boys are?"

"Not by name. They hang out at the kids' playpark behind the Larkmead. I mean, that place is a no-go area at the best of times. I understand they've been chased off by your uniform lot a couple of times in the past few months and I'm terrified that Phil gets nicked for something."

"Well, what are we talking about? Mugging old ladies or nicking a few sweets out the local shop?"

"I don't know, and I don't want to know. I just want it to stop. Come on, Frank, you know better than most where that sort of behaviour leads. Unemployment, alcohol and drugs, prison…" Gerry shook his head. "I don't want that for Phil, for any of my boys. I was hoping you might be able to have a word."

"And put the fear of God into him?"

"Something like that."

"What makes you think he'll listen to me?"

"He respects you, admires you. He always has. I thought he might want to join the force at one point. He'll listen to what you've got to say a hell of a lot quicker than he'll listen to either of us. Please."

"All right," he said, "I'll have a word."

"Thanks Frank, I appreciate it." Gerry paused. "She seems nice, Christina."

He thought back to how she had looked at the dinner table, slightly like a deer in headlights as Pat had been talking to her and he couldn't help but wonder what the subject matter of the conversation had been. But it had been nice having her there, in a way that he almost couldn't describe. "She is," he replied, "very nice."

"Young too."

"Not by much."

"How old is she anyway?"

"Thirty-one."

Gerry spluttered a laugh, "And you're what, forty-five? You're punching well above your weight old son."

"Probably, but as long as she's keen, who am I to dissuade her?" he drained the last of his glass. "Phil outside?"

"Yeah, last I heard."

"Right." He left the living room and made his way back into the kitchen where Pat was washing the dishes and Christina was dutifully drying them. "I didn't bring her here to be your skivvy you know, Patricia."

"Oh, chance would be a fine thing!" Pat exclaimed. "It's not often I get any help in this house so I'm taking it while I can." She turned back to the sink. "Did Gerry talk to you?"

"Yeah, I'm going to speak to Phil now."

"Don't scare him."

"Sounds like a scare is what he needs."

"Don't Frank, please," she looked back over at him. "I don't want to lose him. I don't want to push him away."

"I promise I'll be as gentle as I can." He moved over to Christina and put his hand on her waist. "You all right?"

"Fine," she replied, and he nodded before opening the back door and heading outside.

At the bottom of the garden, Jake and Danny were playing on the swings, shouting at each other and laughing. Philip was sitting on the low wall watching them, an expression on his face as though he wanted to join in but couldn't quite bring himself to.

"Cold enough to freeze your knackers off out here," Frank said, joining him. "I'd kill for a smoke right now, but your mum would probably murder me." To his relief, Philip let out a short laugh. "So, how's school?"

"I'm not dumb, you know. I know that they wanted you to talk to me. They've been threatening it now for weeks. Mum was all pumped up when she knew you were coming today."

"And there was me thinking she just wanted to see her little brother."

"Well, that and your bird."

He shifted slightly at his nephew's slightly colloquial language but chose to ignore it. "Your dad tells me you've got some new friends." Philip shrugged. "Ones that like to hang around the Larkmead and cause trouble."

"So?"

"So, they're both worried about you. You're a clever lad, got a good head on your shoulders. Your dad said you were thinking about becoming a teacher."

"What's the point?" Philip snorted.

"It's a good job, teaching kids, shaping the next generation." He paused. "Were you thinking about primary kids or secondary kids?" Philip shrugged again. "Well, if you don't want to teach, what are you going to do?"

"I dunno."

"You have to do something. You won't be able to live here for the rest of your life. You have to go out into the world and make your own way, make your own money, live your own life. There's a big old world out there. You could do anything."

"Like what?"

"Travel? Go to uni? Make other friends? Meet girls?" Philip looked at him sideways. "There's lots you can do, before you settle down."

"Who says I want to settle down?"

"Well, you don't have to if you don't want to…"

"I mean, look at you and Aunt Julie."

He stopped short at the mention of his ex-wife's name, unable to even recall the last time Philip would have seen her. "What about us?"

"Didn't exactly end in happy ever after, did it?"

"No, I suppose not."

"And Mum and Dad."

"What about your mum and dad? They've been together a long time. They love each other, and you three boys, very much."

"Yeah, you don't hear them fighting."

He paused, slightly stunned by the direction the conversation was taking. Pat and Gerry had been together since the old days, longer than he could even remember, and had never appeared anything other than completely devoted to one another. "What do they fight about?"

"Lots of things."

"Like what?"

"Money."

"Well, I suppose that's understandable with three kids…"

"Sex."

He paused again, "You what?"

"You heard me. They fight about sex, or rather the lack of it, according to Dad."

Glancing back up towards the house, he could see Pat and Gerry standing at the sink together, engaged in conversation, and realised that it was a part of their marriage that he had never really considered before and certainly didn't want to now. "Oh."

"Yeah, Dad said one time that maybe he should be a bit more like you."

"Like me?"

"Yeah, shagging around. He said you'd had more birds than hot dinners." Philip looked at him again. "Is that true?"

Panic engulfed him as he realised that he was talking to his sixteen-year-old nephew about things that really should be the provenance of his parents and yet he found himself slightly piqued that his life had been the subject of any arguments in his sister's house. "I've…umm…well…I've enjoyed myself over the years, I suppose. Not that that's the benchmark you should set yourself against." He paused, wondering if he should ask the next question or not. "Have you…. umm…?"

"Had sex?"

"Uh…yeah."

"Course I have. I'm sixteen, not six."

"Oh, right. Well…" he coughed surreptitiously, desperate to get the conversation back on track. "Anyway, your mum and dad are just concerned about the company you're keeping, that's all. They're worried that you're going to end up getting caught up in something and getting nicked. You don't want that, believe me. I've seen too many young kids like you go down that path and they all end up regretting it, one way or another."

Philip looked past him back up towards the house. "She's pretty."

"Who?"

"Christina."

"Oh, well, yeah I suppose she is."

"She's married though, isn't she? I heard Mum and Dad talking about it the other night."

"She's separated from her husband," he clarified. "She's in the process of getting divorced."

"But, when you first started seeing her, she was still with him?"

He got to his feet, reminding himself to have a word with his sister about what she said within her children's earshot. "Relationships can be complicated sometimes, Phil, that's all. Besides, we're not talking about me, we're talking about you."

"Yeah, all right, you don't have to go on about it." He sighed and got to his feet. "I promise I'll be good."

"Why don't I believe you?" Frank asked.

"That's your problem." Shrugging good-naturedly, he moved past him back towards the house and closed the door, leaving him with the nagging feeling that he'd done no good whatsoever.

XXXX

"So, are you traumatised?"

She looked across the car at him and laughed, "No, not really. You looked a bit traumatised when you came in from the garden though. What were you taking to Phil about?"

"I was trying to keep him on the straight and narrow," he replied, "not that I think he listened to a word I said. Pat and Gerry are worried he's hanging around with a bad crowd. He thinks you're pretty though, so he's not completely misguided."

"I'm flattered."

"You should be." He paused. "He's having sex, or so he claims."

"Well, he is sixteen. I was having sex at sixteen."

"Yes, with a boy you ended up going on to marry and spending more than ten years of your life with," he reminded her. "Something tells me that isn't Phil's aim."

"Takes after his uncle then, doesn't he?"

"Cheeky mare. I told you I was twenty-one before I popped my cherry. Can't say I'm thrilled at knowing my nephew goes around getting birds on their backs."

"Well, when you put it like that…" she trailed off, slightly concerned by the look on his face. "What's really bothering you?"

"Phil says they've been fighting about money and…other things."

"Other things?"

"Sex, or the lack thereof, apparently."

"Oh, right…" she turned to look out of the window, a sense of embarrassment washing over her. She barely knew them after all, and it seemed slightly inappropriate to be discussing them in this way.

"Yeah, I don't really want to think about it either."

"Well, I suppose it's their private business."

"I suppose." He turned the car into her street. "What were you and Pat talking about at the table anyway? Was she giving you the third degree?"

"Not really. She was just making it clear to me that she wouldn't be happy if I ended up hurting you."

"You hurt me?" he glanced over at her. "That's novel. Most of the time she's having a go at me for hurting other people's feelings."

"Must be nice though, knowing you've got someone at your back." She felt wistful at the thought, having no siblings herself and having been so distant from her parents. There never had been any real family to champion her and, if there ever had been in the guise of Stewart's, they were now long gone. "She obviously really loves you."

"Well, she was like a second mum to me," he replied, pulling the car to a stop outside her flat. "After Dad left, Mum had to go out to work and Pat was the one who was there for me after school, helped with all the household chores, that sort of thing. Suppose it's only natural that we're close as a result."

"I think it's lovely," she looked over at him. "I envy you that."

"She has her moments, believe me." He paused and then leaned over, cupping her face with his hand and then kissing her, sending shivers of desire through her body.

"Come inside."

"Don't think I don't want to."

"Then why don't you?"

He rested his forehead gently against hers. "Because, like I said, I think it's better we take things slower this time."

"But…"

"If you'd met me under different circumstances, if you'd been single and if I hadn't been your boss, how long would you have waited before going to bed with me?"

"Well…I'm not sure I can answer that. If I'd met you in any other way, I'd be a different person, wouldn't I? Besides, part of the attraction that led me to want to go to bed with you was the way you treated me on a day-to-day basis. I'm not sure how that could have been replicated in any other situation." She smiled wickedly. "Not to mention, there is something to be said for men in authority…"

He laughed. "I just want this to be normal, not an affair, not an inappropriate workplace relationship…"

"Normal couples have sex."

"I know. I just think it might be nice to get to know you more intimately before getting to know you intimately, if you see what I mean."

"Despite the fact that you already know me intimately?"

"Yeah, despite that. I'm sorry, I know it sounds daft…"

"No, I get it and it's nice. I'd never really had you down as being the kind of man who would want to do things that way, that's all."

"I probably wasn't, until you. But if this is going to last…"

"Is it? Going to last that is?"

He met her gaze again. "I hope so."

"Me too." She let him kiss her again, not wanting to let him go, wanting him to agree to come inside with her, to come inside of her… Pulling back, she regarded him seriously. "But I suppose, if you're going to play hard to get…"

"Bet you never thought you'd say that about me."

"You're right there." She opened the car door and then paused. "Thanks for taking me. I enjoyed meeting your family."

"Thanks for coming. I'll see you in the morning then."

"Yeah, see you later." Leaning over for a last kiss, she got out of the car and closed the door, pausing to wave briefly as he pulled away from the kerb and then turning up the path to her door. Immediately she paused as a familiar figure rose slowly from the doorstep to greet her.

"Chris."

"David? What are you doing here?"

"I was hoping we could talk."

"About what?" The keys felt heavy in her hand, and she wished with all her might that he would somehow get out of her way and let her pass. The last thing she really wanted was to have a conversation, or confrontation, with her brother-in-law.

"It's about Stewart. I'm worried about him, we all are."

"I really don't want to talk about him," she said, mustering her courage and moving towards him. "If you don't mind…"

"I saw you getting out of his car. I saw you kissing him," David said, his expression hard. "Is he your boss?"

She paused, torn over what to say. If she confirmed it, what was to stop him going straight to Brownlow and spilling the beans? The fragile normality would be shattered, and the repercussions were likely to be much worse this time around. "No, he's just a friend." She could tell by his expression that he didn't believe her, but he said nothing. "Look, I don't know what Stewart's said to you…"

"He told me you're getting divorced."

"Well, that's hardly a big surprise, is it? Yes, we've been sorting out the financial arrangements and it should all be done and dusted by the summer."

"And then, that's it?"

"Pretty much."

David shook his head, "You're a cold bitch, you know that."

"If you're just going to insult me…" she made to push past him, only for him to grab her arm, causing her to gasp. "Let me go, David."

"I'm not saying what he did was right, of course I'm not but…he's broken, Chris. We're all terrified that he's going to do something to himself."

"Like what?"

"What do you think?"

A chill swept over her at his words. Despite it all, despite everything, the last thing she would ever want would be for anything to happen to the man she had spent most of her adult life with so far. "You don't think he would…"

"I don't know," he loosened his grip. "I wish you would go and see him."

"I was going to let him write to me. Before we knew he was going to plead guilty, his personal officer contacted me and said that he wanted to write to me. I said I said he could and I thought that might lead to him wanting to see me, but then he changed his mind."

"Changed his mind?" David frowned.

"Yes, I don't know why. But then, I'm not sure what good it would really do anyway, are you? What could I possibly say to him?"

"That you forgive him?"

"Do I?" The words were out before she had time to think, and she found herself contemplating if it was possible to forgive her husband for what he had done. Perhaps the drinking and the behaviour, yes, but attacking her? Leaving her for dead? Was that forgivable? "I could have died, David."

"Yes, but you didn't."

"Well, that's all right then." She slid her key into the lock and opened the door. "I don't think it's a good idea now anyway, do you? Not after what was said in court."

"So, your reputation is more important than my brother's life?" he glared at her. "If he tops himself, it's on you!" She opened her mouth to retaliate, but he turned away and quickly made his way back down the path and around the corner, leaving her standing on the doorstep. Quickly, she pushed open the door and went inside, closing and locking it behind her, suddenly realising that she was shaking.

Stepping into the living room, her eyes immediately fell on the phone, and she moved towards it, intending to call Frank. Then she stopped and stepped back. This was her problem, her issue, her husband. She had spent the past six months focusing on her personal growth, being strong and independent and despite the fact that she and Frank were at the start of something meaningful and, hopefully, long lasting, she couldn't help but think that she needed to deal with this on her own.

11 March

"So, I've got news for you."

"Really, what?"

"Mr Brownlow has signed off on your plan for the surveillance. He said he thought it was well thought out and appropriate given all the attacks we've had so far."

"That was kind of him."

"Yeah, and I didn't take credit for it, despite what you might think." Frank paused at the look on her face, at the lack of enthusiasm that he would have otherwise expected. "Something wrong?"

"No, nothing."

"You don't exactly look pleased, either at being given the go ahead or at my selflessness."

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head as though to invigorate herself. "I am pleased, at both, believe me."

He paused and surveyed her carefully. Between dropping her off at her flat on Sunday afternoon and now, there had been a change in her demeanour, as though she had been lost in thought over something that he wasn't party to. He had wondered if it had been because he had refused her offer to go into her flat after lunch, but she had been fine when she had got out the car. Then he had wondered if, upon reflection, perhaps she felt she had been treated badly by Pat in the context of the conversation that they had had, but he was sure that she would have said something if that had been the case.

"When are we looking to set this up then?" she asked, drawing him back into the moment.

"Well, as you pointed out in your plan, all the attacks appear to happen around the weekend, so Mr Brownlow thought this Friday and Saturday night ought to be ideal."

"He thought that, or you suggested it?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, not really."

"Gives us time over the next few days to scout out possible observation locations, make sure we've got any members of the public that we need on side, not to mention sort out who wants in on it or not. You know what this lot are like." He cast his gaze out into the main office.

"Yeah, well it's a serious case. I'm sure everyone wants to see this bloke caught, not to mention get the overtime." She hovered slightly in front of his desk, her eyes on the plan she had drawn up as though she had never seen it before.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, it's coming off you in waves." Getting to his feet, he moved past her and closed his door over. "Talk to me." She hesitated, and he could see the cogs turning in her head as she clearly battled internally to tell him whatever it was that was worrying her. After a further moment's silence, he decided to take a different tactic. "If you don't tell me what's going on, I'm going to take you off this case. I'm not having you ruin our best chance at catching this pervert because your mind's not on the job."

She cast a pained expression in his direction, and, for a moment, he thought she was going to start arguing the toss with him. Then she sighed and nodded. "After I got out of your car on Sunday, I found David waiting for me."

"David?"

"Stewart's brother. He was on my doorstep."

"What?" he stepped towards her involuntarily and she stepped back, glancing quickly into the main office. "What did he want?"

"To have a go at me, primarily, but also to tell me that the family are really worried about Stewart. Apparently, they're concerned he might do something to himself and, if he does, the popular opinion seems to be that it would be my fault."

"You should have called me," he said, anger flooding through him. "I'd have come straight back."

"I know you would have and that's why I didn't call you. I didn't let him in, and he left anyway. There was no need to cause a scene."

He felt guilty then, guilty that he hadn't taken her up on her offer to go inside. If he had, they would have been able to confront Stewart's brother together. She wouldn't have been on her own. Christ, what if he had…?

As though recognising his feelings, she took a step back towards him. "I know what you're thinking, but David's not like that."

"I'm sure there was a time you thought Stewart wasn't like that too. If you didn't want to call me, you should have called the station."

"There was no point, look…I'm only telling you this because I don't know whether or not I should try and go and see him. Stewart, that is. I mean, he wanted to see me once before and then, bizarrely, changed his mind at the last minute. Maybe I should reach out and see if he would talk to me."

"No," he said hurriedly, the memory of his phone call to the prison governor pushing its way to the forefront of his mind. He would never want her to find out that he had been responsible for boycotting their last proposed meeting. "What would be the point? He's doing a sentence for what he did and you're getting divorced."

"Yeah, but maybe if I told him that I forgave him…"

"Forgave him?! You're not serious!"

She sighed heavily, "Frank…"

"Forgave him for what? For being a drunk? For abusing you, physically and mentally? For almost killing you? Come on Christina, if I hadn't come upon you…"

"I know that, you don't have to keep reminding me."

"Sounds like I do. He doesn't deserve to see you, or to have your forgiveness if you're daft enough to offer it."

Her eyes flashed angrily, "Daft?!"

"Look," he sighed, "if he's going to top himself, he'll do it whether you go and see him or not. Why would you want to put yourself through that? He's nothing to do with you anymore and what he does or doesn't do isn't your responsibility."

"You don't just stop caring about somebody you've spent the better part of your life with! It's not easy to turn feelings on and off like a tap! If he did kill himself…" she trailed off and looked down at the ground.

Resentment bubbled inside him. "So, you're still in love with him then."

"Don't be ridiculous," she shook her head. "I'm not in love with him, but that doesn't mean that I don't still care about what happens to him."

"Not in love, but you still love him."

She looked up and met his gaze. "Don't you feel anything for Julie, despite everything?"

He paused, briefly picturing his ex-wife in his mind. There were only two emotions he associated with their parting; regret that he had hurt her as badly as he had, and relief that they were no longer together. "Not like you clearly feel for Stewart." Moving around his desk again he sat back down and lifted one of the many reports sitting there. For a moment, there was a heavy silence.

"It's never going to be enough for you, is it?"

"What?"

"You'd rather I was fresh out of the box, that I'd never been with anyone else, never felt anything for anyone else." He looked up. "Life isn't like that, Frank. I'm sorry I was married to someone that I still care about. Maybe in time that'll change. Maybe I'll be able to look back on those years of my life and feel nothing, but I'm not there yet. If you can't accept that then maybe you and I making a go of it together, at whatever pace, just isn't the right thing."

"Don't say that," he said quickly. "You and I have been up and down too many times already. We know what we both feel, what we both want. I just…" he paused, trying to put into words how he felt and quickly realising the limits of his expressiveness. "I want to protect you because I love you and sometimes it just feels as though you're doing everything you can to stop me doing that."

"Because I didn't tell you straightaway that David came to see me? Because I'm considering going to visit Stewart in prison?"

"Yes, amongst other things."

She sat down in the chair opposite his desk, and he felt himself hold his breath as she clearly gathered her thoughts before looking at him again. "I can't remember the last time Stewart made me feel as though he wanted to protect me. Sometimes I wonder if he ever even thought about it. All the times something happened to me in this job and he could have shown that he cared or that he was angry and he didn't…I even remember as far back as David Nelson punching me in the face when we nicked him in that drugs raid and Stewart forced us to release him without so much as a thought for the fact I was standing in front of him with a black eye…" she shook her head. "I remember you asking me then if he didn't care what happened to me and that if I'd have been your wife…I suppose I've grown used to not expecting it."

In his mind's eye he saw that moment, and many others over the years. Times when she had been physically hurt, or been in danger, or just needed someone to care about what happened to her. Times when he had wanted to be that person and couldn't. "You should," he said, "expect it, that is, from the people who love you. Don't shut me out."

She looked at him for a long moment and then nodded, "All right. I want to go and see Stewart because I want to know that he's all right. If he's thinking about killing himself, I want to try and talk him out of it. I don't want to feel responsible if he does do it. I want to have an honest conversation with him, if I can, and own up to my part in the end of our marriage."

"And what if he doesn't want to see you?"

"Then I'll have to just accept that, I suppose. But I feel as though I should at least try."

"All right," he nodded. "If that's what you want to do, I won't try to talk you out of it, and I'll be here for you, whatever the outcome."

"Thank you," she smiled at him. "I wish I could kiss you."

"Save it for later. Dinner tonight?"

She got to her feet. "Sounds great."

Alone in his office, he watched as she made her way back over to her desk, chatting to Viv in the process, smiling and laughing, her mood seemingly improved by the smallest thing, such as his understanding. She had been wrong in what she had said. It wasn't that he wished she had never had any relationships before meeting him, after all, her life experience made her the person that she was, the person that he loved. But he would have been no lover, no partner, at all if he didn't hate those who had wronged her and he hated Stewart Church, even if she couldn't bring herself to.

He had been right in what he had said though in wanting to protect her. He remembered telling her, the night Johnno Smith had been shot, that it was primordial, a man wanting to protect a woman. But it was also normal, natural and, dare he say, expected for a man to want to protect the woman he loved, and he knew, as sure as he knew anything, that nothing would ever stop him loving and protecting her.

Which was why he felt no guilt in lifting the phone, dialling the prison phone number, and once more asking to speak to the governor.