Jess, thank you for your reviews, sorry for the wait, here's chapter 29!

Andrea turned her head on hearing the garden door open and on seeing Smithy, smiled faintly. She stopped swinging her legs so he could sit next to her on the bench and when he did, she wrapped the blanket she'd covered herself with around both of them.

"Did you get any more sleep?"

"I think a bit," she said, feeling his fingers running through her hair.

"What's the hardest thing?" he murmured.

"Impossible to say," she said. "Motherless child. Not knowing who she really was. Knowing that it's not really over. Take your pick."

"Olly will be okay," he said, noting that her first thought was for Olly. "The Stewarts seem like a wonderful family."

"Yeah. They are. I've never really been one for Ouija boards, either, so I doubt I'll ever get answers about Kirsty. I know I'll have to live with that. The Stewarts too. The only person who might be able to give us any answers is Kit."

"You don't want to see him?" he said, unable to keep the horror from his voice.

"No, of course not. It's just…and it pains me to say it, Smithy, out of the two of them, he's the more honest. He'll make sure to twist the knife, but you'll get the truth along with it."

"He's done enough to you, I'm not having him in spitting distance…"

"Smithy. Chill. I don't want to see him," Andrea said calmly. "Even the thought of it makes me panicky. I don't know how I'm going to get through any trial with him staring at me in the witness box."

"You can ask for the screens. Or even video link."

"And give him the satisfaction of knowing I'm still as terrified of him now as I was at eighteen? No." Andrea shifted, lying her head on his lap, looking into his face. "I'm going back to Sun Hill with you, Smithy, and I'm going to see Sam's friend and work through all this. I'm not letting him win. We deserve better than that, all of us; Bill, Bruce, even Kirsty."

"And you," he said, stroking her cheek. "You deserve better. And I promise, I'll never treat you badly."

"I know," she said and looked around as the garden door opened again and Lachlan stepped out, holding two steaming mugs.

"I thought you could do with this," he said as he approached. "I know London's not very warm, Smithy, but it must seem like a sauna compared to this."

"Thanks Lachlan," Smithy said gratefully, taking the mug the elder man held out, as Andrea sat up, taking hers.

"Thanks, Dad."

"What time do you have to be in Glasgow tomorrow?"

"Service starts at eleven," Andrea said. "We should probably leave about nine, Smithy. I'll have to check the bus times…"

"Mum and I will take you," Lachlan said. "We're going to go and spend a week with Aunt Bonnie. She's not very well. Nothing bad," he said, catching Andrea's worried expression, "but she's not as young as she likes to think she is. But it's only a small detour on the way to Glasgow. We can take you, save you the stress. You know how unreliable buses here can be."

"Yeah. Thanks, dad."

"You make sure you get some good rest today," he said, then glanced back at the house. "And…Elsie called. She'd like to speak to you. I told her you were still sleeping, but…just so you know."

"Oh," Andrea said. "Thanks. I'll…talk to her later."

Lachlan nodded and turned, heading back to the house. Smithy sipped his tea, unsure what to bring up first; her aunt, Bruce's funeral or Elsie or if to bring it up at all. He went for the topic he knew less about.

"Has she been sick? Your aunt?"

She lifted a shoulder in half a shrug and said; "she's dad's aunt. His mother's sister. They've always been close. She has arthritis, but won't leave her two up two down house. Everyone has their pride, right?"

"Right. Where does she live?"

She shot him a twisted smile that he didn't expect and said, "You'll laugh."

He grinned and said, "Try me."

"She lives in Dunbar."

She was right. He did laugh. She did too, used to the teasing associated with sharing her surname with a famous part of Scotland.

"Where is it?" he asked, when he'd finally gotten control of himself.

"A little further East," she said, waving her hand vaguely. "It's beautiful, really. Coastline, pier, crumbling creaky castle. But…it's a bit like here, you know? Isolated, remote. Not really anything to do."

"You don't want to come back to live, then?"

"No, I don't think so. As I said, there's not much here and the place hasn't changed much. I don't want to be here when everything blows up."

"Well from a selfish point of view, I'm glad," he said. "I can't imagine being apart from you."

"No. Me neither," she said, and finished her tea. "I'm going to go down to the hotel. See what Elsie needed."

"Want me to come?"

"No, that's okay. Relax here."

Smithy finished his tea and went inside after Andrea had left. Lachlan sat at the table, reading the newspaper, his mad professor glasses on his nose.

"Where's Ailsa?" Smithy asked, sitting down.

"Work," answered Lachlan. "Pulling a double shift. Rather her than me."

"Yeah," Smithy said. "Long days."

"I'm sure you know all about those yourself," Lachlan said and closed the paper, fixing Smithy with a stare.

Here we go, thought Smithy. He'd been expecting it, even though Andrea's father had been nothing but pleasant and welcoming to him. This was the first time they'd been alone together and the protective father interrogation he's been waiting for was finally here.

"Andrea's told us everything. About her undercover job. Don't get me wrong, her mother and I didn't exactly think it was wise either, but…my daughter is ambitious. She always has been."

"Yeah," Smithy said, wondering where this was going.

"I know you were upset when you found out. I guess you all were. Understandable," Lachlan added, catching Smithy's slightly uncomfortable look, as if he'd thought he'd be jumping for joy. "I don't mean this in a negative way, but I don't think she expected anyone to become so important to her, especially not when she was working on something like that. You might have noticed, but she can have rather a one-track mind."

Smithy smiled ruefully, thinking about her Gabriel Kent crusade. As if he could fail to notice her one-track mind.

"Of course I was upset," he said. "Even before it came out about her being undercover, she'd started to mean a lot to me. She kept telling me she only saw me as a friend. I didn't know about any of it. She never talked about Kit to anyone, but she didn't even tell me about Marc,"

Lachlan's lip curled at the mention of Marc and he remembered what Andrea had said about her father really liking Marc.

"She found it hard to talk about him, even to us," he said. "When she caught him with Kirsty – and knowing what I know now, her doing that makes it all the more worse – she barely spoke about him. Or her. I thought a lot of that man, you know, but even having a little one couldn't make him keep it in his pants. I'm glad she didn't marry him."

"Yeah. Me too."

"I never want to see my girl heartbroken like that again. She's told me you said you can get past her being undercover, and I hope you mean that. Because if you hold it against her later…"

"I won't," he said firmly. "I love her. And after all this with Kit, I won't treat her badly."

"And I think you mean that," Lachlan said. "But if I've got you as wrong as I got Marc, and you ever hurt my lassie, I'll make you regret it. I don't care how many stripes you have on your epaulettes."

Lachlan had said the words as matter-of-factly as if he was reading a weather report but he could tell the elder man meant them.

"But if you make her happy, I'll love you forever."

"I prefer the second one."

"I thought you might," Lachlan said and suddenly his smile was as friendly as ever. "Now we've gotten that out of the way, how would you fancy a boat trip up the Loch?"

Andrea could hear the laughter as she approached the hotel and allowed herself a small smile as she saw Olly, Donny and his youngest brother, Jack kicking a football around the hotel's car park. None of the misery of last night was on Olly's face. What a resilient kid. On seeing her approach, his face lit up and he ran to her.

"Andrea!"

"Hi honey," she said, bending to his level, laughing as he wrapped his little arms around her neck and squeezed tightly. She returned his hug. Behind him, Jack picked up the football, glancing at his older brother warily as if remembering his attitude last night. "Do you feel better?"

"Yes, thank you," he said and she thought again how adult he seemed sometimes. He unwrapped his arms from her and took her hand. "Come on, nanny's waiting."

She nearly laughed at that, but let him lead her towards the doors. Donny opened it for them, clearing his throat.

"Andrea, about last night…"

"Forget it, Donny," she said softly. "You were under a lot of stress."

"You were a great friend to my sister," he said. "We won't forget that, any of us. I'm sorry she let you down."

"She let herself down, Donny," Andrea said quietly, not wanting Olly to hear anything else he shouldn't. "And she's paid the worst price for it."

"Andrea, come on," Olly said, tugging at her hand.

She followed him into the hotel's bar where Elsie and Fergus sat, drinking coffee, both of them straightening in their chairs when Olly led her into the room.

"Andrea," said Elsie. "Thanks for coming."

"Sorry I couldn't come straightaway," Andrea said, sitting in the vacant chair at the table.

"Olly, go back outside and play with your uncles sweetheart. You can chat to Andrea again a bit later, okay?"

"Okay," Olly said and skipped away outside.

Andrea watched the door close behind him and turned back to Kirsty's parents, unsure of what this was. She'd spoken to them about Kit and Venezuela several times, but knew from her experience as a police officer, sometimes people needed answers more than once. They exchanged a look, then Elsie took an envelope out of her purse.

"The police gave this to me. Just as we were leaving Peacehaven to come here. They said it was from that man's parents. I didn't open it until after the funeral. I was expecting excuses and platitudes, but I was surprised."

Andrea took the envelope cautiously as if reading the words of Kit's father would be just like hearing his voice. She opened the envelope, took out the letter and unfolded it.

Dear Mr and Mrs Stewart,

I write to express my deep regret of my son's actions and the pain caused to your family. The loss of a child scars deep, and though I feel I lost my son a long time ago, I'm profoundly sorry he left our family, to go on and cause so much heartbreak to yours. The loss of your beautiful daughter is an agony no parent should have to fill. The police explained that she had a son, a little boy who now has to grow up without his mother.

I feel responsibility that the son I raised was capable of doing such evil things, and though I'm glad he survived the fall, I also hope that he spends the time he deserves in prison for what he has done. Knowing that it will in no way compensate for the loss of your daughter, I hope you will allow me to make a gesture for the little one, so that he may have an advantage in life. That's not to say that I don't believe you won't raise him to be wonderful, but he will deserve what I offer far more than my son will. I saved in the hope that Kit may one day return to our family as the son I knew once, but it will never be.

If you are agreeable, I wish to bequeath your grandson the sum of £250,000 to be held in trust until he reaches the age of 21. The number for my solicitor is at the bottom of this letter. If you choose not to accept, as is your right, I will donate the money to a charity of your choosing. I await your reply when you are ready.

With warmest regards,

Lawrence Maynard.

Andrea blinked at the words and read the letter through again. Kit really hadn't been lying when he said he had a rich father. She felt another stab of anger towards Kit. He'd had the privilege most people could only dream of and he'd chosen drugs.

"Wow," she said, folding the letter and putting it back in the envelope. "Have you run it past your solicitor, though? Accepting it now might look like some sort of bribery, even though that's not the impression I get."

"We haven't had the chance yet," Fergus said, taking the letter back. "It's a lot of money. We were worried, really worried, about how we'd provide for Olly's future. We're not getting any younger and that wastrel he's unlucky enough to call his father says he'll pay us child support, but…" his lip curled. "I'll believe that when I see it."

"Have you spoken to Olly? About last night?"

"Yes," Elsie said with a glance at her husband. "We compromised. We haven't told him she's in heaven, not in so many words anyway. We told him that when she went to sleep, she went to the clouds. That she won't come back, but she'll always see him, even though he won't see her."

She nodded and said; "he seems happier with that."

"What do you think we should do, Andrea?"

"I'd run it by your solicitor," she said. "Regardless of what you choose. Just…if you don't and it comes out on court…defence will try every trick in the book to get him a lesser sentence, or, worse, off."

"Do you think that's what this is? Just an attempt to play with us, to get him off?"

"Gut says no," she said. "From what I've heard, Mr Maynard is a good, honest man, but even if he means it honestly, it doesn't mean the defence won't use it against him, too. Kit's sly. He waited ten years to get his revenge. He can't have any chance at getting off."

"Of course," said Fergus, tucking the letter back into his pocket. "Very generous of him, all the same."

Andrea nodded, drumming her hands on her thighs, getting the feeling they didn't want to see her just to talk to her about that. Elsie shot a look at her husband who flicked his head, his eyes wide, as if telling her to get on with it.

"Will we still see you?"

"I expect so. There's still the trial."

"I think you know I didn't mean that."

"I know," Andrea said uncomfortably. "Sorry."

"We would understand. If you didn't want to. I know Olly's become a bit attached to you, but I didn't want that to make you feel like you had to stay in contact. He's young. I expect he'd forget in time."

Andrea doubted that. In her experience, kids always remembered trauma. Not that she'd know personally, her childhood had been extremely happy, but through working with the police, she'd learnt a lot about what made a person who they were and many-a-time, it came back to some sort of unresolved trauma. Olly had lost his mother, and Marc had walked out on them before that, and now didn't seem interested in raising his son. She didn't want to be yet another person who disappeared from his life with little warning, and in all honesty, his little face and sweet demeanour made her heart melt.

"I'd like to see him from time to time," she said quietly. "If that's okay. I can come to Peacehaven or you can come to London."

The relief in both their faces was palpable.

"We're glad," Fergus said. "We would have understood, though. This has been horrendous for you, Andrea. If I'd known, even just a bit sooner what Kirsty had done..."

"I know," Andrea said. "Like everyone else has said, she wouldn't have expected this to come back to bite her after all this time."

"I don't understand it," Fergus said and she had the impression he wasn't really aiming it at her. "We raised all of our children well, tried to treat them all the same. Why did she do it?"

Andrea decided now wasn't the moment to talk about Kirsty inferiority complex concerning her successful siblings, and even her as her best friend. Her parents were right, they did raise her well, and they didn't deserve any more 'what ifs,' especially when, as far as she knew, Kirsty never challenged them on it.

"I don't know. I wish I did."

"We're going back to Peacehaven tomorrow morning," Elsie said. "What about you, when are you going home?"

"Not sure," Andrea said. "Mum and dad are going to see Aunty Bonnie in Dunbar, so I might stick around for a little while with Smithy. We have another funeral to go to tomorrow."

"Is that for the man Kit killed? Bruce?"

"Yeah," Andrea said, then felt a guilty twinge; she'd never asked about Bill's funeral. Maybe she could ask Smithy to call Gina, she might know.

"Well I hope it's okay," Elsie said. "Well, as okay as it can be."

"Yeah," Andrea said, getting up. "I'll get your number from mum. I'll call you."

"Please," Elsie said, and her arms twitched as if she was hesitating, then she threw her arms around Andrea with a sob. "You were a good friend to Kirsty. Remember that. And don't ever blame yourself. You were only a kid."

"Kirsty was too," Andrea said. "We should remember that too."

Andrea rose early the next morning as she had the morning of Kirsty's funeral. Smithy was still sleeping and she slid out of bed, surprised at how quickly she'd gotten used to the bitter cold weather again. She went to shower, hearing the low murmuring in the living room of her parents' voices. They were always early risers. As she shampooed her hair, wishing the day away. Nobody liked a funeral, but going to one of a man murdered because of her – indirectly, but still because of her made her feel sick. Everyone had told her that she couldn't blame herself, but she didn't think she'd ever stop. If she'd just kept her argument with Bruce in the news office, Kit never would have seen him and he'd still be alive. Deep down, she knew she was being irrational, it was after all Kit's hand that had been holding the iron bar, not hers, but in her very worst moments, she thought she might as well have been. She'd seen the state of Bruce, he'd tortured the man. He'd made him suffer, and for what? Something she'd said in the heat of the moment? She squeezed water from her hair, rueful. The sooner she saw Sam's friend, the better. She got out of the shower and wrapped herself in her fluffy bathrobe, stepping from the bathroom and going back to her bedroom.

Smithy was awake, yawning as he sat at the dressing table, fixing his tie, but smiled when she came in. he'd come in late with her dad the previous night; Lachlan had taken him on a boat trip up and down the Loch, then they'd gone for a long hike around the area. They'd come back, laughing, and she'd clocked the approving look her dad had given him, even though he'd already said he liked Smithy. She went to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Oh, sorry," she said, remembering she was wet and making to let go.

"No matter, I'll dry," he said, pulling her onto his lap and kissing her. "It's just today left. We'll get through it."

"I meant to ask, did you know anything about a funeral for Bill…?"

"Oh," he said. "Lydia, his daughter, she wanted a private funeral. Family only."

"Oh," Andrea said, her mouth turning down and he rubbed her arm.

"It wasn't against you," he said firmly. "In any case, she's flying him back to Alderney. That's where most of the family live. She's keeping the dog, too."

"Good," she said.

"Hey," he said, lightly touching her forehead with his. "Gina's having the time of her life with Hugo. Good luck getting him back from her."

She choked out a laugh, and got up, towelling her hair. "I'll know who to call on if I ever need a cat-sitter in future."

"She'll be thrilled," he said and folded his arms on the chair, resting his chin on them as he watched her take the hairdryer out from a drawer. "I wish you were coming back to Sun Hill with me."

She was going back, but knew that wasn't what he'd meant. "Yeah, she said. "I do as well."

Glasgow was more like London then Glendarroch was, Smithy thought, watching Lachlan and Ailsa drive away. Much more of a city feel, but in all honesty, he preferred Glendarroch. It made a refreshing change from the big city and that wasn't just because of the weather. Andrea hung onto his arm, looking about her nervously at the other attendees in black, as if she was expecting a mob attack. She noticed most of her former Daily News colleagues gathered and caught Logan's eye. He lifted a hand at her and she nodded.

"Good morning."

Andrea and Smithy both turned at the familiar voice; Andrea blinked in surprise and could see Smithy was just as surprised.

"Sir," Smithy said. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Mr Malcolm and I go back a long way," he said and inclined his head at Andrea. "Far more than the last year."

"Oh," she said. "Bruce didn't…"

Bruce didn't tell me that. The last few words died on her lips. There was so much that he hadn't told her. She'd buried her anger at him since his death, her guilt outweighing it, but sometimes, the anger won.

"No. I guessed," he said. "I thought I would pay my respects."

Okaro was such an honourable man. She'd always thought so and had no idea why Bruce had it in for him so much. Now didn't seem like the time to ask though, if ever.

"You look well," he said to Andrea. "I'm glad. Everyone else will be pleased to hear it too."

"Thank you," she said. "What about…him?"

"Still in hospital," he said. "Undergoing rehab, but under constant guard. He's going nowhere. I promise you that."

She knew he meant it; an honourable man and one of his word and she nodded. Andrea turned at the sound of an engine and drew herself closer to Smithy as the hearse turned into the churchyard, closely followed by two black cars. The hearse drew level with her and she looked at the flowers, fashioned into the word 'brother' Andrea bit back a sob, wishing more than anything that Bruce and Angus could have made their peace.

The two black cars had stopped; Angus got out of the first one with an elderly looking woman, who clutched his arm, tears already running down her face, and two men, who looked around Angus' own age, one of whom clapped him on the shoulder. That would be the favourite cousin Angus mentioned. Angus caught her eye and smiled to her and Smithy, nodding at Okaro, then went to stand with his cousins and the other family who had gotten out of the second car. A young woman took over holding the elderly woman's arm. Andrea held Smithy's arm with trembling hands, and he covered hers with his, warm and strong as she watched Bruce's coffin being carried into the church, hearing the song Abide with me playing. She waited until the small group gathered in the churchyard followed then walked with Smithy and Okaro. The three took a seat on the third row of pews.

Like Kirsty's funeral, Bruce's passed in a blur. Angus got up to eulogise his big brother, and had most of the church howling with laughter, even her, though it was through tears with his stories of the two growing up. Her favourite was the one where they'd been young and arguing in the car, and Bruce had tried to throw his seatbelt buckle at Angus and it had backfired – literally, in his face. The outcome of that, Angus had added, nine stitches. That explained the scar she'd noticed under Bruce's lip. Agnus finished, acknowledging as everyone knew, that he and Bruce had drifted apart in the last ten years, but he hoped, one day, to be with his big brother again. Angus stepped down, putting a hand on Bruce's coffin.

"Rest easy, big brother."

Angus hadn't cried throughout his speech, but he did then, walking back to his seat, tears rolling down his face. Andrea, fed up as she was with crying, hadn't been able to help crying too. From her left, Okaro handed her a tissue and patted her shoulder.

"Not your fault," he said, quietly, but firmly.

"Thanks," she whispered, rubbing at her eyes with the tissue, turning it sodden in seconds.

More people got up to do readings; the cousin and, to her surprise, Logan. She wasn't offended that Angus hadn't asked her, he probably would have known it would be too much for her. Then, at the end, the young girl she'd seen assisting the old woman, rose to her feet, her face pale, but expression calm. Andrea didn't think she could be any more than eighteen.

"My name is Emily Malcolm," she said. "I'm Bruce's cousin. Angus asked me to sing Bruce's favourite song. He always used to say that if the song wasn't sung at his funeral, then he wouldn't be there."

That got another laugh from the congregation. Emily looked at Bruce's coffin, collected herself and opened her mouth.

Of all the money that e'er I had
I spent it in good company
And all the harm I've ever done
Alas it was to none but me
And all I've done for want of wit
To mem'ry now I can't recall

So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be to you all
So fill to me the parting glass
And drink a health whate'er befall
And gently rise and softly call
Good night and joy be to you all

Of all the comrades that e'er I had
They're sorry for my going away
And all the sweethearts that e'er I had
They'd wish me one more day to stay
But since it fell unto my lot
That I should rise and you should not
I gently rise and softly call
Good night and joy be to you all

It was a traditional parting song, sung at the end of gatherings, but usually parties, not funerals. She thought she preferred it like that, even though Emily was singing it beautifully. And it had been Bruce's wish. She held Smithy's hand tightly her head on his shoulder. His free hand was around her shoulders, giving her his support and strength as they rose and followed the procession from the church to Bruce's final resting place. Andrea's eyes lingered on the gravestones as Bruce's coffin was lowered into the ground. He was being buried alongside his parents. That gave her a strange measure of comfort. At least he was with them again.

The wake was just as Andrea had expected; loud and full of Scotch whisky. She sat at a table in the corner with Smithy and Okaro, holding a glass of her own scotch she'd been sipping for nearly an hour. Okaro glanced at his watch.

"I can't stay much longer," he said. "My flight leaves this evening. There is one other reason I came today, Andrea, I had something to speak with you about and I wanted to do it face to face."

"Oh?" Andrea said, clutching the glass so hard, she swore she heard the glass groan.

"I know this is hardly the time or the place, but I didn't know when I would next see you, and as I said, I wanted to do it face to face."

"Is it about Kirsty? Can you charge him?"

"No," Okaro said. "I'm afraid not. It's actually about you, and the DPS investigation."

"Oh," Andrea said, her stomach twisting in knots. With everything else going on recently, she'd all but forgotten about that. "And?"

"They've decided that no further action will be taken against you."

She stared at him, then glanced at Smithy, who she could see was hiding his own surprise at Okaro's words.

"This is about what's happened recently, isn't it?"

"Perhaps," he said. "If it was, they didn't say that outright. I believe their exact words were along the lines of 'no malicious intent'."

Which were more or less the exact words Gina had said to her not so long ago. Andrea's cheeks heated and she looked down at the table.

"Thank you. Thanks for telling me."

"They asked me to return this to you," he said, and put a hand in his pocket, bringing out the phone that had been confiscated from her after her expose. "I understand you've replaced your phone, but they had no need to keep it."

"Thanks," Andrea said, opening the device and pressing the power button. Nothing happened, the battery was flat.

"You were an excellent officer, Andrea. If I could have you back in post tomorrow, I would."

He wouldn't, but she appreciated the sentiment all the same.

"Well, I messed that up all by myself," she said quietly. "That's kind of you to say, though, thank you."

"Anything you need, you know where I am," he said, and looked at his watch again. "I really must go."

He rose, just as Angus came over to the table, a tray of drinks in his hands.

"You're not leaving already, Mr Okaro?"

"I'm sorry, I have a flight to catch. Thank you for letting me attend, Mr Malcolm, I appreciate it."

"Can you spare five more minutes?" Angus gestured at the tray. "Courtesy of the landlord. We're all to have a drink at three twenty-nine, the time of his birth."

"Of course," Okaro said politely. "I'd be happy to."

He, Andrea and Smithy each took a glass of the honey-coloured liquid. The room fell into a respectful silence as three twenty-nine approached, then all at once, everyone drank their drinks down. As the liquid slid down Andrea's throat, it really felt like the final goodbye. Okaro gathered their empty glasses, bade Andrea and Smithy goodbye, and departed, stopping to speak to Angus briefly. When he left, Angus joined them at the table, wearily sitting in Okaro's empty chair.

"Thanks for coming," he said. "Both of you. You've gotten me through this."

He reached a hand across to Andrea, and she took it, giving it a comforting squeeze. Then his head snapped up.

"God, I should have asked. Kirsty's funeral. How was it?"

"It was…well…" Andrea shrugged. "It was difficult. But we got through it."

"What about the little boy? How is he?"

"He's taken it hard," Andrea said. "His grandparents told him she was sleeping. He went looking for her in the church the same night. Gave us all a right scare."

"Is he okay?" Angus said, alarmed.

"Yes. He's on his way back to Peacehaven with Kirsty's parents as we speak. They explained it to him as much as they could. I don't know how much he took in, but I think he understands his mum isn't coming home."

"Poor kid," muttered Angus. "What about you? How long will you stay in Glendarroch?"

"Not sure. Maybe a few weeks. When do you head back to Australia?"

"Next Friday. I'm going back to Sun Hill tomorrow to finalise a few things with the estate agent about the house, but then I must get back." Angus gave her hand a squeeze. "You'll come and visit, won't you? Both of you? And stay in touch."

"As long as you keep those eight legged monsters away," Smithy said, shuddering and Angus laughed.

"I'll try. I'm sorry I had to meet you both the way I did, but I'm glad we did. Kit's going down, and I can finally rest easy. Do me a favour? Be happy together. You deserve that."

"Thanks Angus," Andrea said. "We'll see you before, though, right? You'll come for the trial?"

"I wouldn't miss it," he said. "I want a front row seat and I'll have a bottle of scotch ready to celebrate at the end."

She wished she shared his faith about Kit being sent down, but surely, even with the question of her own credibility, the evidence against him was strong. She smiled.

"Sounds like a good plan to me," she said. "We should go soon, though. Mum and dad dropped us here, but they've gone on to Dunbar. You know what the buses are like here."

Angus rolled his eyes, but she knew it wasn't at her, and he said; "how could I forget? Especially to Glendarroch."

He got up and walked around the table to her. She rose and they gave each other a long hug.

"Please don't ever blame yourself," he said as if he always knew part if her did, and probably always would. "None of this is on you."

"Thank you," she said and let go of him. "Travel safe. Let us know when you get back to Melbourne."

"I will. You still have my card? It's got my email on it. Probably better than calling. And cheaper."

She nodded. Angus looked to Smithy and the two men shook hands.

"Look after her," Angus said.

"I will," Smithy said, picking up Andrea's coat and helping her into it. "Safe trip."

"Bye Angus," Andrea said, squeezing his hand before walking away.

Outside, Smithy wrapped his arm around her, holding her to his side. Partly to keep her warm, but mostly because she needed him to. The funerals of the fallen might be over, he knew. But the evil that did it still had to be put away. it wasn't over yet.

Song is The Parting Glass. There is a very nice version on YouTube by Face Vocal Band