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Smithy had been relieved to go back to work, even though it was a phased return, as he'd been off for so long, a gradual build until he resumed full time duties. Andrea only wished she was going with him. A week after they returned to Sun Hill, she walked with him to work, kissing him goodbye in front of the station and returning the greetings she got from her former colleagues.

"I should be back early," he said. "I'm still on half-days."

"I think I'll go back to the flat," she said. "Sort a few things out. So if I'm not at yours…"

"I'll come find you," he said. "I'll make us some dinner."

"Sounds great," she said. "Have a nice day. I love you."

"Love you too," he said. "See you later."

She watched him walk away and turned, dragging her feet as she walked, as if her body knew how reluctant she was to go into her flat, but she had to sort it out, or she'd never be able to get it sold.

"All right, brown-eyed girl?"

Andrea didn't even bother to glare at Gabriel or even give him a dirty look. He really was just like Kit; always looking for a reaction. She walked right past, letting the words bounce off her, at least until she was out of his eyesight. When she was around the corner, she put a shaky hand to her chest, feeling her deep inhale, remembering the calming words of the therapist she'd seen when she'd been younger. Focus on the here and now, focus on what she could smell, what she could see and what she could feel. She looked around and counted the different colours of cars she could see, and when she turned into Veronica Street, she'd calmed. And then she stood in front of her front door and the feelings threatened to overwhelm her again. She curled her hands into fists, nails digging painfully into her palms as she looked at her door, then at Bill's. A large 'for sale' sign stood outside the door. She supposed one would soon stand outside hers, as she'd already made appointments with estate agents about putting her flat on the market. She turned and looked across the road to number eighteen, the flat Kit had occupied, who knew for how long. If the police knew, they hadn't told her. It was virtually opposite her house; their living room windows faced each other. He could have been spying on her way before she even knew he was still alive. She would really like to know how he'd found her and would insist on asking him herself if she thought she'd get an honest answer. Andrea turned back to her door and squared her shoulders. It wasn't going to open itself.

The first thing she looked at when she opened the door was the place on the floor where Andy the paramedic had fallen when Kit had attacked him. Even though her mother had scrubbed at the floor, and the stain was gone, she still thought she could see it if she looked hard enough. She closed the door behind her and looked around the flat. She loved the little property, she really did, but Kit had ruined it. She would never be able to escape the memories if she carried on living here. Taking off her coat, she opened her bag and took out the phone Okaro had returned to her. There probably would be any important messages on there, if there were any, as anyone important had her new number, but of course there was always someone missed. The charger was lying under the coffee table, uselessly, as if had been since she'd had the phone confiscated. She plugged the phone in and watched until it lit up and began charging before turning away. She'd deal with it later, but even as she walked into her room, she could hear it begin to buzz incessantly with voicemail and text notifications

It was quiet, too quiet, and she put on the radio to enjoy some music as she sorted through her things and sang under her breath, as if she needed more than just the radio. This reminded her of sorting through Bruce's things with Angus; at least that was one thing about moving house; it gave one the chance to have a good – and probably long overdue – clear-out and when she stopped for a break, she'd made a decently sized pile for the charity shop. Andrea walked out to the kitchen and put the kettle on, staring into the garden, then she turned around with a shriek as she heard a ringing behind her. She stared as the charging phone rang, vibrating as it did so, inching along the table. She walked to it, picking up and stared uncertainly at the unfamiliar number and answered it before it could ring out.

"Hello?"

"You're a hard woman to get a-hold of."

She knew the voice but couldn't put her finger on where from. Andrea clutched the phone tightly.

"Who is this?"

"Andrea?"

"Who wants to know?"

"It's Oliver," said the voice. "Bantree. Bruce's contact. We met a few months ago, remember? When you wanted some information?"

Andrea closed her eyes, sinking down onto the sofa. It felt like a lifetime ago, but of course she remembered. The man who formally wrote the military obituaries, the man Bruce said could help her with information the tight guarded Navy would never give out to just anyone. If he couldn't help, nobody could, that was what Bruce had said.

"Hello?" Bantree said again.

"Yes," Andrea said, rubbing a hand over her face. "Mr Bantree, of course. I'm sorry. I didn't have your number saved."

"I've been trying to get hold of you for some time," he said. "This number has always gone straight to voicemail."

"No. I've only just got this phone back. I didn't have access to it for a long time."

"Right," he said. "I did wonder. But then, I guess the police weren't too happy with you, or Bruce. Not that I would have wished that on him, or on my worst enemy."

"No," Andrea said tightly.

"But they caught who did it? I heard they made an arrest?"

"Yeah," Andrea said, then let out a breath. What the hell did it matter, she didn't see Oliver Bantree be someone to tell anyone. "My ex-boyfriend. If you could even call him that."

There was a beat of silence before Bantree said; "What, you and Bruce…"

"Good God, no," Andrea said. "It's complicated."

"Sounds it," he said. "He was all over me about it, you know. Bruce. Wanting to know what you wanted my help with."

"Did you tell him?"

"Christ, no. I told you when I saw you, remember, he wasn't the sort of journalist I liked to rank myself along. I told him to ask you himself."

"He didn't get the chance," Andrea said. "Or rather, I didn't give him the chance. Anyway, what can I do for you?"

"It's more what I can do for you," Bantree replied. "Like I said, I've been trying to reach you for weeks. I've been digging into what you asked me for. And I found something."

"Oh," said Andrea, not sure she wanted to know now, as maybe Angus was right – one psycho was enough. But he had to be stopped. "And?"

"And, it seems you've struck gold."

Even down the line, she could hear Oliver Bantree smiling and wasn't sure if he was happy for her, or for his own work.

"The two men you mentioned, David Kent and Jason Hardy? Their paths did meet."

He paused, she wasn't sure if to check she was still listening or for dramatic effect, but she doubted it. She'd only met him once, but Bantree didn't seem like the kind of man to pussyfoot around. If fact, as she remembered it, he'd been pretty dismissive of her when she'd met him, which was why she hadn't held out hope that he'd get back to her, but as he'd said, he'd been trying to for several weeks, so whatever he'd found, it must have been significant.

"Go on," she said tightly.

"Their paths did cross. Kent did a tour of duty in the Gulf at the same time as the Special Boat Service."

"And Jason Hardy was in the Special Boat Service," Andrea said, more as a statement than a question.

"Yes. That's not all. There was an incident. Civilians were wrongly targeted and Kent and Hardy weren't happy with the way the military handled it. Even though SBS aren't keen on publicity, Hardy had his photo taken with Kent for some foreign rag. Does that help?"

Andrea held her breath, for the first time in weeks all thoughts of Kit, Kirsty and Venezuela were gone from her head and she was back where she was before Kit had blown her cover, back in the mind-set of the ambitious journalist, determined to expose Gabriel Kent for what he was before Bruce could do the same to her. Mission unaccomplished there, but maybe she could still expose him anyway. David Kent, his brother, adoptive brother, the link she finally uncovered to the now dead sniper, Jason Hardy. Now maybe she held some cards against him after so many times of hitting brick wall after brick wall, with even Smithy who had been furious after she'd told him about Kerry's rape accusation against Gabriel, had implored her to let it go. But she couldn't. She wanted to finish what she started, to get justice for his victims and seeing the vindictive gleam in his eye this morning, she knew he'd get off on taunting her about Kit.

"Are you still there?"

"Yes," she said. "I'm still here. Sorry. Mr Bantree, can you get me that photograph?"

There was a dry chuckle.

"You said it yourself, Andrea, if anyone wanted any information about the Navy, I'd be the sort of person to speak to. Of course I can. Where can I send it to? I'm guessing not the news office or the police station."

"No," she said. "Do you have a pen? I'll give you my home address."

She gave it and heard the faint scratching of his pen as he wrote it down.

"It might take me a while," he said. "I'm working on something else in Ireland at the minute. I won't be back for a few days."

"That's fine," Andrea said. "Mr Bantree, thanks. Thanks for keeping on trying to get in touch. I admit when I met you I wasn't hopeful. I didn't think you sounded…well, interested."

There was a silence and she held her breath, hoping she hadn't offended him, and he'd refuse to help her.

"I wasn't," he finally said. "Not at first. And to be honest, after what happened the next day with the expose fiasco, I was even less sure. But then, I found out about Kit Maynard."

Andrea's head began to spin and she took a sharp intake of breath.

"What?"

"You're surprised," he said. "I have contacts all over the place, even in the police. I wanted to keep my eye on you for a bit, make sure you were the sort of person worth helping."

"Why did that specifically make you change your mind about helping me?"

"I remembered what you said when I met you," he said. "About it not being about getting your name on the front page, but about stopping someone, getting them locked up before they could do anymore harm. Direct quote, I believe."

"I think so," said Andrea.

"And, as I'm sure you can imagine, something I've heard more than once by people desperate for information but meaning nothing of what they said."

"No," Andrea said.

"And I thought to myself, you had something there that you could have turned into a massive media fiasco, but you didn't. If you wanted your by-line, there was your chance. You could have used that as an opportunity to further your career if that was ever what it was about for you, but you didn't. You thought him dead for years, I believe someone told me?"

"Yes," Andrea said.

"And sometimes wish he really had been I daresay."

Andrea let herself chuckle, even though nothing was funny about wanting someone to be dead, it was more because Bantree knew her so little, but seemed to have her number already.

"Sometimes," she said.

"I doubt there are many who will blame you," he said. "Anyway, all that aside, I could see that justice came before making a name for yourself. That's why I've decided to help you."

"Thank you," Andrea said. "Thank you so much."

"Don't mention it," he said. "Ever, if you don't mind. I don't want everyone flocking to me for information. I'm choosy and careful about who I help and I won't change that."

"Well, I appreciate it all the same," she said. "I'll wait for you to send it."

"As soon as I get back," he said. "Shouldn't be more than a week. And if I don't speak to you again, good luck with everything. It's been a pleasure."

His words were gruff, but sincere. Andrea smiled, even though he wouldn't see it down the phone.

"You as well, Mr Bantree. Good luck with what you're working on. Whatever it is."

"Thanks. Goodbye."

He hung up without waiting for her to respond. Andrea sat back and let out the breath she felt she'd been holding since Bantree had mentioned Kit. She supposed with hindsight, she shouldn't be surprised that he knew. It would be arrogant to assume that only journalists of the Daily News had sources everywhere. How long had Bantree been following Kit's reign of terror? From the very beginning? He'd said he wanted to keep an eye on her at first, so that sounded like a fair assumption. Would he have helped her otherwise? She doubted it. Excitement pooled in her stomach and she looked down at her lap, at the phone she wasn't sure she'd wanted back, but was the only reason Bantree had been able to contact her. After so many months of hitting dead ends in her quest to bring Gabriel down, and his smile becoming smugger each day as if he knew it – that was, before he'd gotten angry and threatening when he'd sensed she was getting closer to uncovering his dark secrets – she was nearly there. She could feel it. And it would probably be much easier for her, now she wasn't working right under his nose at Sun Hill. From what he'd said at the hospital though, he was still suspicious of her digging, but she'd still better be careful. She wouldn't even tell Smithy, she decided, even though she knew he would never tell anyone, the less people who knew, the better. She wouldn't tell him yet, anyway. She'd get the photograph and take it from there.

Smithy arrived at three and looked in surprise around the bedroom. It wasn't as if Andrea was the most organised person but even for her, this was a mess. She caught his look and laughed.

"I've been sorted piles. To keep or not to keep. Surprisingly, the bigger piles are not to keep. I've decided to be ruthless."

"You want to be careful, or you'll have nothing left to wear," he said, sliding his arms around her waist. "Not that I'm complaining."

The cheeky remark earnt him a playful shove.

"Perfect excuse to go shopping then," she said leaning up to kiss him. "I can update the wardrobe from journalist to…I don't know. Every other person."

"I didn't think anyone at the news office dressed particularly smart," he mused, then added hastily. "Not that I'm saying…that came out wrong. You always looked gorgeous out of uniform…I mean…"

Andrea laughed as his face reddened. "I know exactly what you meant. There wasn't really much of an emphasis on suits and ties at the news office, it was more an unwritten rule of casual dress. Some people liked to make the effort though. Somehow you were taken more seriously when you looked presentable."

"I know what to look out for when I catch people hanging around our crime scenes then," he said then smiled when she looked at him uncertainly. "Come on Andrea. We either dance around the subject forever or we learn to have a bit of a laugh. I know which one I'd prefer."

"Me too," she said. "But if you ever want me to…explain anything….you can ask."

"I will," he said "I've bought some salmon and potatoes for dinner, is that okay?"

"Sounds great," she said. "A bit early for dinner though, don't you think? We should do something to pass the time."

He looked down at her and smiled. "What did you have in mind?"

Smithy was frying the salmon on the hob, bare chested and wearing jeans when Andrea emerged from the bedroom, adjusting her t-shirt. She sidled up to him and he snaked an arm around her.

"You okay?" he said.

"Never better," she said and found she meant it.

"How're you feeling about tomorrow?"

Her smile dropped slightly. Tomorrow would be her first appointment with Sam's psychiatrist friend, Richard.

"A bit scared," she said.

"I can get the day off. Come with you."

"No," she said. "I'll be fine, and anyway, you've just gotten back. The last thing you need is any disruption."

"It's not disruption," he said. "It's you."

"I'll be fine, Smithy," Andrea said, "Don't take this the wrong way, but I think it's something I need to do on my own."

"Okay," he said. "If that's how you feel. I'm always here for you, though. You don't have to do this on your own anymore."

"I know," she said and kissed his cheek. "Why can't every man be like you?"

"What, attractive, charming and smart?"

"And modest. Don't forget modest. All that and more," she said. "Can we head back to yours after dinner?"

"Or we can stay here," he said. "I dropped home to feed Hugo before coming here, so he should be fine until morning."

"Okay," she said uncomfortably.

"We'll be okay," he assured her. "You made this house a home. I know you want to leave and I don't blame you. But enjoy what time you have left before someone else takes it. There's nobody else out there now who wants to hurt you."

She doubted that, especially if Gabriel ever found out that she just might have something on him, but if she kept it to herself, he wouldn't find out. She smiled and went to curl up on the sofa as he finished cooking dinner. She watched him dish up, guiltily, wishing she didn't feel the need to keep Bantree's call a secret from him, but she did. Her suspicious about Gabriel was one of the only things that had ever caused arguments between them and they were in such a good place right now, she didn't want anything to ruin that. After dinner, Andrea curled up into a foetal position, head on his lap as they watched TV together. She wasn't sure what they were watching and didn't think he was either.

"What if we did it together?" he said suddenly.

"Did what?"

"Got a house."

He said it so quickly, she could tell he'd been thinking about it for a while and when she looked up at him, he was staring straight ahead, as if he regretted the words escaping his mouth.

"What?"

"It was just a thought,"

She sat up, tucking her legs underneath her. "Go on."

"Andrea, I'm not in this relationship for short term. I love you. I love us. I want a future with you. I want all of it. We've been living at mine for the past week and we seem to be getting closer every day, I just thought…" he looked away, his face reddening. "I'm sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut."

"Why?" she said, taking his hand. "What makes you think I don't want all of that as well?"

"It's just…I know you've been here before. With Kit and with Marc. Blokes making you all sorts of promises to change or to love you forever and to not hurt you..."

"And I'd be a fool to think you're anything like either of them," she said. "I can see clearly now; Kit put his hands on me more times than I cared to remember. Marc is an arrogant, selfish cheating jerk. I couldn't see either of them for what they were because I was too naïve and rushed things. That's not what this is with you." She cupped a hand around his neck. "We took the time getting to know each other. A shared tragedy brought us together. In such a short time, we've been through so much together and we've stayed together. For the most part."

He allowed himself a small chuckle but didn't dare to look at her. Her words didn't sound as if she was rejecting his idea, but he daren't believe it.

"So, what're you saying?"

"I'm saying, Smithy, that if you're in, I'm in."

He snapped his head around to her so quickly, he nearly gave himself whiplash and when he saw her gentle smile, he couldn't stop his own spreading across his face.

"Really? You mean it? I have some money to put towards a deposit, I've been renting that little flat for years, so I've been able to save…"

She put her finger to his lips, silencing him.

"Even if you couldn't," she said. "I would have covered it with the proceeds of selling this place. We're going to make a life, Smithy, together."

"Hopefully more than one," he said but added hastily when she blinked. "Or just a house full of cats, that works too."

"I'm up for discussing that," she said. "But let's wait a bit, hm?"

"Of course," he said and wrapped her in his arms. "I'm sorry, I feel like I've put you on the spot, but I've been thinking about it ever since you said you wanted to sell this flat. I know it's selfish, but I can't stand the idea of being apart from you."

Kit said something like that to her once, but as she remembered it, he'd done so after giving her yet another backhander for paying too much attention to other people on a night out.

"I'm sorry," he'd said, pulling her hand away from her stinging cheek to examine the damage. "I can't help it, seeing you with other people. I just want you all for myself."

"Did he used to say that to you?"

Andrea was dragged back into the present day and made herself meet Smithy's worried expression, as if he realised he'd said something triggering. She clasped his hand in hers.

"Don't you worry about it," she said. "You're not like him."

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," she said wrapping her arms around his neck. "I need this therapy, Smithy. Kit said and did a lot, not all of it bad. I don't want to go through any more of my life being triggered by things people say when they mean me no harm."

Including the goading by Gabriel of brown-eyed girl, but she didn't need to share that with Smithy just yet, especially when he did mean her harm, even if it was psychologically. If he knew she might be getting something on him, who knew how aggressive he could turn, he had done so before when he'd grabbed her by the throat after cornering her in an empty room before she was exposed. He wasn't worried about being caught in the station, so why would he be worried about doing anything away from the station?

"Andrea?"

"Sorry?" she said distractedly.

"If I ever say or do anything too upsetting…"

"Then it's my problem to deal with," she said firmly. "Smithy, I won't have you walking on eggshells around me like that. That's no way to build our life. Kit, when he said things like that, he meant it possessively. But the things he did…I would be stupid to even think you'd do anything like that."

"Good," he said. "I'd never lay a finger on you like that, or cheat on you like Marc."

"And I'll never hurt you the way I did," she said. "I promise."

"Then I guess we're agreed," he said and wrapped his arms around her

She didn't think so, as he'd never hurt her but she had hurt him, but she believed him when he said he never would. She settled back into his arms, closing her eyes as she sank into his warmth. She didn't even want to go to bed when this was all so perfect. He didn't seem to be in any real rush to move either and they stayed in their embrace, watching as the daylight faded into darkness.