The first day back after the school holidays was always a little chaotic, and inevitably, something always went wrong. Walking in to be told that Rachel's office had been ransacked and the police were currently on site was more of an unusual start than most, however, and despite Eddie's intentions to avoid her, instead, he found himself making a beeline for her office. She was stood outside, talking to the police and he saw the moment she spotted him in the way she stiffened slightly, her eyes fixed on the officers.

"I just heard," he said quietly, once they'd gone. "How much did they get?"

Was it his imagination, or did she relax slightly? "Nothing at all." Her gaze skated away from him as she stepped backwards, tone just a little too polite.

"Really? Not even the petty cash?"

"No."

He winced at the shortness of her voice. The silence between them was painful as he followed her into the office, and it didn't escape his notice that the entire time, she never so much as glanced in his direction, even when he let out surprised murmur when he saw the mess over the floor. She knelt, beginning to gather the papers up, and he sighed. "Rachel?"

She hummed.

"Rachel, we need to talk."

"I think that we've said all we needed to say."

"Did we?"

She paused in her movements, and he clamped down on the instinctive need to fill the quiet between them. Because even a week later, the memory of waking up next to her was burnt into his retinas and there was a very real possibility that he would say something foolish.

He remembered, in explicit detail, the sleepy confusion on her face when she'd opened her eyes and seen him that morning, the way her brow had furrowed slightly before her lips had parted in surprise. For a long moment, they'd only stared at each other. Until Eddie had offered a sheepish "good morning" and, to his astonishment, she had burst into laughter.

"Oh God, what did we do?" She'd peeked at him between her fingers, amusement colouring her voice and Eddie had relaxed, offering her a shrug and a grin.

"If you have to be told…"

"We are far too old for this."

"Oi! Speak for yourself."

She'd let out a small laugh, pushed herself more upright in the bed before running a hand through her hair. "Well, this is mortifying." She looked at him dryly. "I'm never going out day drinking with you again."

"It did cut down on the hangover."

She thought about it for a moment, evaluating. "True."

Silence had hung between them for a moment, before Rachel had bitten her lip. "Eddie… I'm your boss."

And there it was. He'd been waiting for that. "There's no rules against this, Rachel."

"I know that. I would just… prefer it if no one found about this."

He'd frowned. "Rach…"

"We were drunk, we made a mistake." She'd swung her legs out bed, her back now to him as she'd reached for a pile of clothes nearby. "There's no need for anyone else to know. We can just pretend it never happened."

Eddie's stomach had fallen through the floor. Any and all trace of amusement had died, her words like an ice bath. She'd never turned around, never faced him and so had no idea of the way he'd swallowed harshly, carefully modifying his voice before he spoke. "If that's what you want."

Back in the present day, Rachel was still had her head bent towards the floor, no longer making any movement but neither meeting his gaze. Eddie pressed his lips together. "Look at me."

She made no move, other than the slight tightening of her fingers against a stack of leaflets.

"Rachel, look at me."

It was with no small amount of reluctance that she did so, and whatever Eddie had been about to say, it vanished at the look on her face. She was trying to blank her expression, but there was something about her eyes- he couldn't pin it down, couldn't determine exactly what emotion it was. He only knew that he desperately wanted to rid her of it.

So instead of saying what he wanted to, instead of asking her to dinner or telling her that he didn't want to write that night off as just a mistake, instead he gave her a smile. "We're friends, aren't we?" He tilted his head. "And grown adults. This doesn't have to be difficult between us."

She sat back on her heels, biting her lip. "I don't want you to think that I… it's not something I do," she blurted out, looking highly uncomfortable. "I'm not like that usually. I don't…"

And realisation swept over him. "You are one of the best headteachers I've worked with," he said simply and she fell silent, looking at him with wide eyes. "All you have, Rachel, is my respect."

She had no idea how to respond to that. Half pleased, half embarrassed, she tucked her hair back behind her ear as she shifted her weight, looking around almost absently at the mess in the room. "This is going to take me an age to sort out. I'll have to do it when I come back."

It took Eddie all of a split second to decide that she'd find the paper tidied up and put away upon her return. He didn't say so aloud, however, and instead hummed his agreement, joining her kneeling on the floor. "Are you ready for today?"

It didn't escape either of their notice that just over a week ago, they'd been in this exact position. And it had led to something very different than what it would today. So when Rachel glanced up and found him looking at her, she gave him a tight smile as she answered him, and deliberately didn't think about how it felt when he used those hands that were currently picking up pieces of paper to touch her instead.

W.R.

The next several weeks passed more quickly than Rachel could ever have imagined. Between Bolton, Jasmine, the planning for the building work and Stuart Hordley, she barely had time to breathe, even taking work home with her to compete in the evenings as she simply didn't seem to have enough hours while at school. The exhaustion didn't help either- the stress of her emerging past, combined with pressure of completing overhauling a school had meant she was almost constantly tired, and on one occasion, had even curled up on the sofa in her office and slept during her lunch hour.

Still, she had some hope of things calming down now. Jasmine was reinstated, Stuart had handed over the photos and articles and the building work had begun to get underway. All she had to was survive his presence and make it to the end of the school year, which was beginning to loom startingly closer when she thought about it.

It was also the end of her contract. The thought had her stomach clenching, and to her surprise, it was more than the usual feelings she had each time she let a school. If it hadn't been for Stuart Hordley, she would gladly have named Waterloo Road as one of the best jobs she'd had, and the working relationship that she had managed to forge with Eddie was one of the most successful she'd ever had with a deputy, despite their little slip that day back in the holidays. She had meant what she'd said afterwards- she had intended for them both to forget it. But if she wasn't mistaken, Eddie was interested. Oh, he wasn't overt about it. But she'd seen the looks he sometimes shot her way, and he hadn't quite hidden his animosity towards Stuart when he'd found out about their dinner. She'd disabused him of any romantic notion there very quickly, found herself pleasantly surprised at his jealousy. She might even consider pursuing it, once this school year was over and she knew if she was staying or going.

Speaking of Eddie, he'd been in a funny mood for days now. Scowling like one of the kids, losing his temper at the drop of a hat. Perhaps she should talk to him, she reflected, because if this was all because of his car and the damage that had been inflicted on it, then it had really gone on for too long.

Almost as if she'd summoned him with a thought, he appeared in her office, a face like thunder as he closed the door behind him. She looked at him, considering. "Did you get out of the wrong side of the bed this morning?"

"What exactly d'you mean by that?"

She blinked in surprise. "Come on, Eddie, I'm joking!"

"Well, I'm not laughing."

Fine then, clearly this was not going to be a light-hearted conversation. "What's wrong?" she questioned. "You've been a pain in the butt all week, what is it?" If direct was what it took, then direct is what she'd do.

For a moment, he only looked at her. "I know."

Well, Mr Dramatic. She raised her eyebrows at him. "What do you know?"

And he almost spat his next sentence at her. "I know about your past, Rachel. Amanda. Whatever your name is."

And the floor fell away from underneath her.

She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Paralysing horror trickled down her spine, froze her throat as Eddie- sweet, occasionally grumpy but always kind-hearted Eddie- sneered at her. "Who'd have thought it? Our fine, upstanding headteacher was once a prostitute."

She thought she'd avoided it. She actually let herself believe that it was over, that Stuart was done, that she could go back to pretending her past had never happened. But now Eddie was standing in front of her, looking at her with that expression, and she couldn't even think of how to defend herself. "Eddie…"

He turned away, as if to leave and icy fear pooled in her stomach. What if he told? Announced it to the staff? "Where are you going?"

"I thought you had principles!" His coolness was giving way to anger, the look on his face piercing her more than she'd ever thought possible. "Got your new build all boxed off with your mate Stuart Hordley- if that's his real name. Nice little carve up."

"You don't really believe that."

She didn't raise her voice. Perhaps, if she had, he would have ignored it. But instead, she sounded quietly defeated and it was that more than anything that had him turning back towards her. "Don't I?"

"You know me, Eddie . You don't really think-"

"I don't know a thing about you." His voice whipped across the room. "You think I'm going to look the other way because we spent a night together? Clearly, I'm hardly the first man to do that."

It was cruel, and vicious, and Rachel physically flinched, looking almost ill. Her eyes closed against him, as if she could block out his words and if Eddie had been able to see past the anger that reddened his gaze, he might have felt guilty. But he couldn't. Instead he scoffed, shaking his head as he yanked open the door and stalked from the room, leaving Rachel more wounded than she would have believed possible.

It took over an hour for to stop feeling as if she may throw up at any moment. She completed no work in that time, instead staring blankly down at her cold tea as she tried to suppress her panic long enough to reason a plan. But she couldn't. In the end, all she could think of was the way Eddie had looked at her, the way he had sounded.

And there was really only one way forward.

She wished she didn't have to do this in the middle of the school day. It was hardly appropriate, nor ideal, but she couldn't risk Eddie telling someone before she had a chance to talk with him. Which was how she found herself seeking him out in his classroom, her hands trembling, stomach knotted with nausea.

"Stuart Hordley and I are not mates, or cronies, or anything like that."

He didn't even look at her.

"Eddie!"

He actually threw his pen down, his jaw tight, but at least he was responding. "Then what was he doing handing that file to you? Being public spirited?"

His tone was scathing, and for a moment, she could only look at him. "Do you really think I could do what you're suggesting?" she asked in lieu of answering. She didn't want to lie to him. "You say you don't know me- fine. But do you honestly believe that of me?"

His face was blank, but no denial was visible and that hurt more than she'd thought it would. She wrapped her arms around herself, eyes skating away from his. "This is why you've been in such a foul mood all week." A statement, not a question, and one he didn't bother to respond to. She pressed her lips together. "Eddie, it was a very long time ago."

"No." The word sliced into the room. "It's now. It's yesterday. It's this term. So many lies, Rachel!"

"What are you most angry about?" She was close to tears, and she knew it, and clung to anger instead. "The fact that it happened? Or the fact that you screwed me and had no idea?"

For the first time, she'd managed to gain the upper hand. She saw it in the way he reared back slightly, the way he blinked before he fumbled to reorganise his thoughts. "That has nothing to do with this."

"Doesn't it?" she challenged. "Would you still be this angry if you hadn't been in my bed a few weeks ago?"

"That's not the point, Rachel!"

Despite her best efforts, she lost the fight against her tears, the anger fuelling instead of quelling them. She turned away from him, swiping roughly at her cheek. "I was seventeen, Eddie. Seventeen, and I'm not proud of what I did. But I did it because I had nothing, and no one, and no choice." He didn't make a sound, she didn't so much as hear him move. "It took me two years to escape," she continued, swallowing thickly. "And I did it by getting myself an education. That's why I'm here now."

She glanced at him, and his expression was stony. But no longer did he have that sneer, and she counted that as progress.

"It's going to get out, Rachel. It always does."

"It hasn't yet."

He looked incredulous. "We're sat here talking about it!" he exclaimed. "If Hordley's secretary knows, how long before everybody knows?"

She tilted her head slightly. "Why does that bother you?"

He stuttered for a moment, caught off guard again. "I'm worried about the potential damage to this school," he managed, and she wasn't sure she entirely believed him. "I can't stand that you and Stuart Hordley… that he knows about you, and he got the contract."

He was right, even if all he had were suspicions and it caused something in her to ache. "For the record, his bid was miles better than anyone else," she told him, and it was the truth. She wasn't lying to him, per se, and yet it still didn't sit right with her. "It is as simple as that."

Her chest sat heavy, her throat tight and Eddie could never be accused of having a good poker face. He didn't believe her. She turned away, eyes burning and her hands slightly numb and she couldn't be in here anymore, couldn't be near him. He made no move to stop her as she walked out, never said a word and if anything, she thought this was going to be worse than waking up in bed next to him after the night before.

Whatever headway she thought she'd made with Eddie, it soon became clear that she'd been wrong. The senior leadership meeting was excruciating. Eddie glared, was outright rude in the way he spoke to her and it had Steph and Tom looking between them with wide eyes, bewilderment clear on their faces. The problem was, on any other day, Rachel would have pulled him up for it. Perhaps in front of their colleagues, perhaps not. But today, she couldn't. Today she didn't trust what he'd say, how he'd respond so instead she had to bite her tongue, did her best to ignore him and pointedly avoided Steph's attempts to catch her eye.

And then, afterwards, when she'd bitten at him for his attitude and he'd pressed her on Hordley. He didn't believe her about him, that much was clear and she found herself defending the man, the words sitting heavy on her tongue even as she said them aloud. But Eddie only curled his lip when she assured him that Hordley was going to build them a wonderful building. "And how are you going to ensure that?" he'd asked, and she knew what he was going to say even before he said it. "Sleep with him?"

She sucked in a breath, felt the barb of the words just as he'd intended. That was all she was now. He saw her past before anything else, and as much as she longed to be angry, she couldn't really blame him for it. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she forced them back. This whole thing was making her far too emotional, she decided, even as she scooped up her notes and tucked them away. She needed to get herself under control before the governors arrived.

Eddie first, she decided, and then she needed to go see Grantley. But first she needed to find her copy of the budget- no use advocating for staff if she didn't know how much she could pay them. She could have sworn she'd left it on her desk earlier.

Her mobile rang in the middle of her search, and she as tempted as she was to ignore it, it would be just her luck today that it was important. She grabbed it, rifling through her drawer at the same time.

"Rachel Mason? This is Linda from your doctor's surgery, calling to confirm your appointment this Monday at 4pm."

She could have ignored it. "Yes, that's fine," she answered distractedly, flicking through her outbox. Maybe the budget had ended up there by mistake?

"Your appointment will be with Marnie, our nurse practitioner. We ask that you don't attend the surgery if you have any episodes of vomiting, diarrhoea or flu-like symptoms in the two preceding days."

"Yes, okay." Where could the thing be? "4pm Monday." She tossed the phone to the desk, frowning, and on a whim picked up the file she'd been using earlier. Maybe she'd- yes! She withdrew the budget triumphantly, and her brow furrowed. How had it gotten in there? She didn't remember-

The papers fell from her hand, scattering over her desk.

Monday.

Nurse practitioner.

Her stomach plummeted through the floor, and she fell back into her chair more by luck than judgement. She'd forgotten. She stared blankly ahead, not seeing her office, her heart pounding in her ears. How had she forgotten?

Oh God. Her chair squeaked as she spun on it, a whirl of activity as she shot to her feet and across the room, fumbling through her bag. She didn't care when her car keys fell to the ground, or when the inside pocket spilled its' contents. All she cared about was the diary she withdrew, and frantically searched through.

She counted, and her mouth went dry.

She counted again, stared at the pages for so long they wavered and blurred in front of her.

Oh God.

She was breathing too fast, the room spinning around her. This couldn't be happening. Her whole life, she'd been so careful. And now everything was tumbling was down, and she didn't even notice when the diary slipped from her fingers and hit the floor, didn't hear Bridget's concerned voice from the doorway or feel the arm that came around her and guided her towards the sofas. All she knew was that she couldn't breathe, and then, blessedly, darkness.