Hey, Jess, my friend, again this was going to be the chapter where you meet Kirsty, but ended up being a longer one, fixing some plot holes that would have come up later on, so sorry! :) Next chapter, I promise! Thanks for your reviews!

Give her the night, at least. That was what Gina had said. She'd been surprisingly sympathetic when he'd told her what Andrea had told him. If he was indeed the first person she'd told in ten years, she was bound to be feeling emotional about it. She was probably right, but she'd turned off her phone. Well that tells you, Gina had said. She wants to be left alone. Maybe she even regretted telling him. If he really wanted to see her and she hadn't been in touch by the next day, she'd take him over there herself. Smithy looked at his phone. No calls, no texts, nothing. Just the change as the time changed to 6:13am. Her phone was still going straight to voicemail. Grimacing, he got up from the sofa. He couldn't wait, even though he knew Gina would keep her promise. He just had to know she was okay.

The slice of light woke Andrea first and she screwed up her eyes, sitting up gingerly. Her neck was killing her. She hadn't fallen asleep at the table like that since her uni days. The light reflected off something shiny and she looked down. Shrieking, she pushed herself back from the table, falling to the floor with the chair. The tiepin fell innocently to the floor, but to her, it was as dangerous as a poised snake. The recognition of it was instantaneous; it was the exact one Smithy had worn on his uniform every day, the only officer she even knew to wear one. Nobody had told her it was missing; maybe they hadn't even noticed. Kit had taken it after the attack on Smithy and now here it was, as if Smithy himself had just left it here.

How had he gotten in here? She'd secured the doors. She'd locked every window. She knew she had! She'd change the locks. She'd move house, move borough, move country, whatever it took for Kit to be out of her life. She picked the tiepin up by a corner and got shakily to her feet. She'd better call this in. Turning towards the phone, her eyes fell on the fridge. The scream she intended to escape from her came out in a whimper. The alphabet magnets had been rearranged and spelled.

See you soon

Her legs threatened to collapse under her, and she sank back to the floor, whimpering. The threat was there, plain as day. It could have been written in blood rather than mere magnets. What did he want? Why couldn't he leave her alone? The musical bell chimed and she leapt, screaming.

"Andrea? Are you okay?"

Smithy. Shocked to hear his voice, she just stared at the door. The letterbox creaked open and she saw his green eyes staring through, meeting hers. They widened in alarm when he saw her slumped on the floor.

"Andrea? Come on, open this door or I'll kick it in."

And hurt himself even more in the process. She made herself get up, her fear turning to fury at his stupidity for leaving the hospital, but the minute she opened the door to his concerned face, the furious words got lost and instead, she cried.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he said, coming forwards with his arms outstretched.

She backed off, shaking her head and pointed to the fridge. He turned to look and read the words. His eyes narrowed in anger.

"I got home," she said, "last night. I was tired, fell asleep at the table. When I woke up, this was by my hand."

She held out the tiepin. He took it, running his thumb over the silver.

"They said it was missing from my uniform," he said quietly. "Sam thought it was just lost at the scene, but I knew it; I knew he'd take it. Use it to scare you like he did with that necklace."

"I don't know what this is, Smithy," she said. "I honestly don't know what he wants. Why can't he just leave me alone?"

"How did he get in here? Didn't you hear anything?"

Andrea shook her head.

"He always did know how to creep about. But I was…tired. I doubt a marching band could have stirred me." She looked up at him. "You shouldn't have left the hospital."

"They said I was fine. I was worried about you," he said. "And I hope you don't mind, but I told Gina. What you told me. I'm sorry. I had to."

"It's fine. I understand."

"Andrea," he said, limping towards her. "You can't stay here. However he's doing it, he's getting into your house and even if you think he doesn't want to hurt you, things are escalating. And I can see you're scared."

"He won't hurt me."

"He is hurting you, Andrea. He's stalking you. Do you really think it's not that bad because he's not making mincemeat out of you this time? What's to stop it happening again?"

"It's not your problem, Smithy."

"I think it's just been made my problem," he said. "What's wrong with you? You would never have stood for this if it was happening to someone else."

"Well, karma's a bitch, isn't it?" she said, turning away.

"What? Is that what you think? That you deserve all of this?"

"Can you go, please?"

"No," he said fiercely, turning her back to him, holding her firmly by her shoulders. "I won't. Look at me, Andrea."

She did so, her eyes brimming with tears.

"You don't deserve this, do you hear me?"

"Don't you get it though, this is the result!" she said. "After everything I did! And it's because of that expose, he knew where to find me. This is just the punishment I get. You apologising for telling the Inspector what I told you yesterday; Smithy, I just spent nearly a whole year letting everyone else's private business get splashed over a newspaper!"

"Stop it," he said sharply. "Stop being ridiculous. Nobody deserves to be terrorised."

The tears trickled down her face again, and he pulled her towards him. She resisted, but even injured, he was stronger and soon had her in his arms.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"I know," he said and glanced around at the flurry of movement at the corner of his eye.

Gina stood in the doorway, thoroughly displeased; he wasn't sure if that was because he hadn't waited for her to bring him or the scene in front of her. Probably both. He pointed at the fridge, which she glanced at, then double took, her eyes narrowing at the very obvious threat. Andrea felt the added presence, glanced around, and jumped from Smithy's arms as if she'd been electrocuted.

"She woke up with this next to her hand," Smithy said, covering the moment and handed her the tiepin.

"So he has access to this house somehow," Gina said, her tone not unkind.

"Yes ma'am."

"There must be a way he has access, Andrea, think. That first night he was here, when he got in through the unlocked door, did any spares go missing?"

"No," she said, "and I don't do the 'leave the spare under a plant pot' thing. The only person I gave a spare to is…"

She trailed off, remembering the night Tony and Sheelagh had found her at the allotments. They'd gotten into her house, they said. Her neighbour had given them a key. Her neighbour, who hadn't answered his door yesterday. Smithy and Gina watched Andrea's expression change from fear to utter panic, and she ran past them out of the house and to Bill Carter's door, which she hammered on.

"Bill? Bill!"

He didn't answer and she couldn't hear anything, not even the barking of his dog. She turned to the other two, who'd followed her out.

"My neighbour," she explained. "He gave Sam my spare set the other day, when you were looking for me. I did some shopping yesterday and I knocked to ask if he wanted anything, I usually do and he didn't answer, but I didn't think anything of it…if Kit or someone was watching and knew he had a spare…Bill! Bill!"

"Andrea," Smithy said, pulling her back, feeling her trembling. "Gina."

"Ahead of you," she said and pulled out her phone to call for backup. "Get her inside."

"No, I…"

"Now!"

"Andrea, come on," Smithy said, his hold gentle, but firm as he guided her inside her house. "Come on, sit down."

She shook her head, wiping her sweating hands on her jeans.

"He's an old man, Smithy, he's just a harmless old man."

"Come on, we don't know yet that anything's happened to him. He might have just had a fall, anything."

"And Kit transported himself into my house by magic? The slightest noise, that dog is barking like mad. If Kit's done something to him…he's just an old man."

"I know," Smithy said, wrapping her in his arms.

He'd seen Bill Carter on occasion, when he'd been to Andrea's house, the man had always been polite with him. Over her shoulder, through the window, he saw the area car pull up. Tony and Sheelagh got out, Tony grabbing the enforcer from the boot before running to the door. Andrea tried to turn to look as they heard the unmistakable sound of a door being forced; he kept her turned away.

"Don't look," he said, he himself, fearing the absolute worst.

Andrea and Smithy were sitting at the table when the Inspector returned, glasses in front of them containing generous servings of scotch. They both turned, Andrea stood, hoping she'd say Smithy was right and her kindly old neighbour had just had a fall. She shook her head.

"I'm sorry."

Andrea sat back on her chair, a hand going to her pinched mouth. Smithy put a hand over hers, squeezing it.

"How?"

"Early reports indicate strangulation," said Gina. "Look, Andrea, I wouldn't normally ask right now, but that necklace, you said the chain it's on now wasn't the original."

"No. It used to be on a leather like…" she trailed off and looked at her. "Is that what he used?"

"It's too soon to be sure, but it does look to be some type of cord."

"How long?"

"CSE thinks maybe three days, no more."

"And what about the dog?" Andrea said. "Bilbo, he's a little spaniel…"

"Locked in the bathroom. He appears dehydrated and obviously hungry, but we'll get him straight to the vet's. Do you know about any family?"

"His wife died, December before last," Andrea said. "There's a daughter, she lives somewhere on the channel islands. I can't remember which one. It seems nobody's family lives in the bloody UK. Can't blame them, can you, with psychos like Kit about."

She buried her face in her hands. Smithy's hand remained on her arm, warm and comforting.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this right now," he said. "But she can't stay, Gina. She's not safe here."

"She is here, Smithy," Andrea said sharply. "I'm not being pushed out of my own home."

"Smithy's right," Gina said. "This does change things, and now that we know he can get into the house…"

"Fine," Andrea said flatly. "I'll book into a hotel for a couple of days."

"But…I have a spare room…"

"No, Smithy," she said firmly. "You're not taking another beating from him. I'm not putting you at risk. I'm not having someone else…"

"She's right," Gina said as Smithy opened his mouth to argue. "Anyway, let's be honest my boy, you're hardly in any state to defend Andrea or yourself, are you, especially as you left hospital against medical advice."

Andrea scowled at him. He shrugged.

"Look, it's a few bruises. I don't need to be in a hospital for that. I'll take Hugo to mine, though. At least I can do that."

"Thanks," she said, her eyes stinging at the thought of being away from her cat, then chided herself for thinking about that when her neighbour lay dead in his house, just for her house keys.

"Andrea, go and make your arrangements," Gina said. "Pack a bag, and we'll run you to the hotel."

"Ma'am," Andrea said, and went to obey as if she was still wearing a uniform. Gina waited until the bedroom door shut before she rounded on Smithy.

"I would have taken you Smithy, I don't make promises I won't keep."

"I know, I was just so worried," he said and shifted in his chair, holding his ribs. "Look, I can't just stop caring about someone."

"I don't expect you to, Smithy, but this man's already had you attacked once. Don't you think you're putting yourself at risk for more?"

"So, what, should I just leave her to face whatever he has in store for her alone?"

"No, I'm not saying that. I'm saying that you're not the only one wanting this man caught." She glanced at the bedroom door and dropped her voice. "No matter what we might think of her Smithy, she's still a victim of crime. We have a duty to protect her."

"I'm sure everyone is thrilled."

"They've got a job to do, Smithy, and I'll see to it that they do it."

"I know. Look, I know we were waiting to see what we could get from the Venezuela authorities, but don't you think we should be speaking to this Kirsty?"

"Well obviously, but why now?"

"It's just a feeling. He told Andrea he wanted what was his. Direct quote, I think. Only, if he was talking about the baby, there's nothing she could do to give him that. Even he must know that."

"You think Kirsty took something from him?"

"At first, I thought it meant…" he gestured to Andrea's bedroom door. "But now I'm not so sure. If he really wanted to win her back, he's going the wrong way about it. Think about it, Gina. A drug dealer, always flashing the cash. You think a man's dead, what use has he got for it?"

"Would make sense, I suppose," she said and they both turned as Andrea came out of the bedroom, a dragging a suitcase behind her.

"Stonegate hotel," she said. "City centre. I booked in for five nights. I'm just going to grab…"

She nodded at the bathroom and went in, emerging soon after with a washbag.

"Good," Gina said. "We'll get a picture of Maynard circulated to the staff. On the off chance he tries anything."

"Thank you." The words were sincere but the tone was flat.

"I'll come back later for Hugo," Smithy said. "If you leave your keys with me."

"You're not going to come alone, are you?"

"No," said Gina, with a pointed look at Smithy. "He's not."

Andrea shrugged into her coat, a shadow of a smile on her face and the three left the flat together. Andrea looked at the crime scene tape at Bill's door and swallowed hard. Smithy put his hands on her shoulder, directing her towards Gina's car.

"Come on," he said quietly. "Don't torment yourself."

When the car pulled up outside the hotel, she was immensely glad. It had been an uncomfortable fifteen minutes, with Smithy's worried glances and the Inspector's alternating between hostility and uncertainty. She unbuckled her belt before the car had even stopped.

"Thanks for the ride," she said, halfway out of the car.

"We'll wait here until you're in. Call," said Gina stiffly. "If you need us."

"Yeah. I will," she said and got out, closing the door carefully.

The two watched as she disappeared into the hotel. Gina watched Smithy watching her nervously.

"Try not to worry," she said. "It sounds as if he's had plenty of chances to hurt her already and he hasn't."

"That makes it okay, does it?" he said, eyes on the door, even though she'd disappeared inside. "As long as it's just psychological torture?"

"I didn't mean that," she said, starting the car again. "I can see this man is dangerous, he's killed one, probably two, the way things are with Bruce Malcolm."

"He attacked her once before," he said.

"Yes, and that awful," she said, "but all the chances he's had to do it again and he hasn't. Look, I meant what I said. I'll get a picture of his ugly mug circulated, she'll be safe here. Every time he's tried something, it's been whilst she's alone. He's not going to try anything here, is he?"

"Let's hope not," Smithy said.

Andrea left her suitcase near the door and sat on the bed, looking around the room. It was a nice room, really, but there was nothing like your own home comforts. Cursing the day she met Kit Maynard, she went to the window and looked out at the people coming and going, not a care in the world. She'd bet none of them were hiding from a psycho intent on revenge, and it apparently didn't matter who got hurt in the process. Poor Bill. She sat on her bed, thinking about the kind old man who nursed his dying wife through her cancer treatments, then spent his days quietly tending to his garden, always in the companionship of his beloved spaniel. For his kindness, though, he was certainly nobody's fool. He was ex-army for Christ's sake, there was no way he would have let a stranger into his house, especially one who looked like Kit.

She sat back in the bed, chewing her lip thoughtfully. Smithy had suggested that Kirsty might know more than she'd told her. Maybe he was right, but she'd always seemed to hate Kit so much. Unzipping her suitcase, she took out her diary and flipped to the right page. Like she'd told Gina and Sam, her mother always updated her on Kirsty, even though she'd told her she didn't want to know. Then, last year, she'd given her Kirsty's new address and phone number. She'd moved to London, she'd told her. Much closer by. At the time, Andrea's lips had twisted. What, she was supposed to let bygones be bygones? Forget about everything she'd done? You've shared so much, her mother had said. And she didn't even know the half of it. Now, being where she was now, she could understand the want to be forgiven.

She knew the police wouldn't be happy with her for doing it; speaking to Kirsty before they did, but she had to know. She had to know what else Kirsty had kept from her, apart from the fact that she'd been screwing her fiancé behind her back for months. When she'd given her that travel sickness pill – that's even if it was what is was – had she known it would make her sleep for as long as she had? It'd been hours; she hadn't woken until early afternoon the next day, to Kirsty packing stuff up, telling her the police knew everything. What exactly had she been doing when she'd been sleeping for so long?

Andrea tapped her finger at the West London postcode. It wasn't that far away. And even if she did just want to slap her across the face when she saw her, she should at least know about Kit. She wouldn't wish waking up to find a dead man standing over you on anyone. She'd have a shower and get changed first, though, she thought, looking down at herself in disgust. She was still wearing the clothes she'd fallen asleep in and, if he was still spying on her, wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of him seeing her in a state, even if it was true internally.

The nondescript hoodie made for a good disguise. Andrea glanced both ways as she exited the hotel, and pulled up the hood, tucking her long hair under the hood. Her pace quick, she made towards Bethnal Green underground station. She passed a French café as a couple stood up, laughing about something, and walked behind her. She felt a prickle of uncertainty, but pushed it away. She was being ridiculous and paranoid. She queued up at the machine to buy her ticket and passed the couple, who were standing at the tube map, the woman pointing out a stop on the map. Andrea went through the barrier and walked down the escalator, even though she still had a few minutes until her train, as if she could somehow rush it and get seeing Kirsty over and done with. She sat on the bench, and watched as the couple emerged on the platform, glanced her way, then turned away. Andrea's hands began to sweat. Was this Kit? He'd lured Smithy somewhere isolated using a woman as bait, probably thinking – knowing – he'd not question a lone woman. Was that what he'd done to Bill? Used the lure of an innocent-looking woman to knock on his door, so his guard would be down? Was this him going a step further, thinking she wouldn't suspect a seemingly harmless-looking couple? She looked around; there were other people on the platform. She'd stay close to them. Not let herself be alone with this couple. Her heart rate quickened; the sounds around her muted and she sat forwards, taking a deep inhale. A loud laugh snapped her back to reality and she glanced at the couple again. They were embraced in a deep kiss; seemingly unaware of the people around them. Was she being completely paranoid?

The train came and she got on. Too nervous to sit down, even though there were plenty of seats, she held onto the pole, glancing at the map to double check where she was changing lines. It was a long old way to West London; and she was riding more or less to the end of the central line where she would change at Ealing Broadway for the short journey to Ealing Common, near where Kirsty lived. Andrea stole a glance at the couple again; the man caught her eye, gave her a smile then looked back at his companion, touching her face. Something just looked wrong, she thought, something looked forced. He wasn't looking at her the way she thought a man deeply in love would look at his partner, but hey, what did she know? She perched on the leaning seat, near the door, gripping the pole hard, trying to focus on breathing, but the hairs on the back of her neck began to rise. She rubbed it; fully aware the last time that had happened, she'd told herself she was being stupid, she wasn't being followed, and it turned out she had been. Oxford Circus was coming up; she'd get off. See what happened.

As the train pulled into the station, she stood at the doors, watching the couple from the corner of her eye. They were getting up too, moving towards the other set of doors. As she stepped off, so did they. Andrea felt her heart rate accelerate. Lots of other people had gotten off too; hurrying towards the exit; she slowed her pace and the couple overtook, apparently engaged in conversation. The platform began to clear and the doors made the warning noise that they were about to close; before they could, she jumped back on, seconds before the doors slammed shut. The couple stopped, and the man slammed his hands on the window, trying to force the doors open. As the train pulled away and she caught the eye of the woman, who mouthed something she couldn't make out, then turned away, sinking into a seat, trembling. He was having her followed now? That sounded about right; getting someone to do his dirty work for him. Sensing some curious looks from the other passengers, she kept her head down until the train terminated at Ealing Broadway. When she got to Ealing Common, maybe she'd see if there was a pub about anywhere; she felt like she needed a whole heap of courage down her before she faced the woman who'd once been her best friend.

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