Wow this story is turning into such a slow burner, I didn't for a minute imagine that I'd get to 33 chapters, and its certainly not finished yet! Thanks for all your reviews and support, Jess!

Andrea had spent the week occupying herself from her thoughts of her next session with Richard and whatever the picture Bantree was going to send by looking for homes for her and Smithy. When he returned from his shift, she showed him one that had peaked her interest when she'd seen it in the estate agent's window.

"The River Gardens," she said, pushing the paper towards him. "It's a bit further out than maybe we were thinking, but there's gated entry and concierge too."

She tried to keep her words light, but Smithy picked up on them right away and ran his hand down her back in the way he knew calmed her.

"Would that make you feel safer?" he asked. "Gates and security?"

Her shoulders slumped and she nodded resignedly.

"It looks lovely," he said. "But… I'd like to be the one who makes you feel safe."

"You do," she said. "But you can't be there all the time."

"Well what about this?" he said, pulling one of the other house advertisements towards them. "We could get our own gates on the door and an alarm. I don't think Hugo would like it very much if he didn't have a garden to flounce out into. This is a nice house, and a good location."

It was, but the high gates of the River Gardens made her feel safer than anything she had looked at, but maybe that was giving people like Kit more people to hurt in order to get to her, and Smithy was probably right, Hugo was used to a garden and she couldn't imagine giving him up, no matter how much the Inspector loved him. Smithy pulled her to him gently, his arms circling around her.

"Gates aren't a guarantee of safety," he said. "All it takes is for one careless neighbour to let the wrong person in. Nobody can do that when it's your own flat."

"True," she sighed and looked up at him. "Want to go for a walk? Get some dinner?"

"Sounds like a plan," he said warmly, giving her a kiss on the mouth. "Where do you fancy?"

"What about Ponti's?" she suggested; the Italian place they had been to several times before, but not recently.

"Oh yeah, with the good lasagne," he said, stomach rumbling just thinking about it.

"And chicken," she said, licking her lips, then added, "and hazelnut martinis."

"We haven't been there for ages," he said, "Let's go."

It was nice to just do couples stuff, like this, Andrea thought as she sat opposite Smithy in the busy Italian restaurant, watching him dig into his lasagne like he hadn't eaten in days, though in fairness, as decent as the station canteen food was, the food was nowhere near as appealing as what they were eating now. She cut hungrily though her own chicken, realising how hungry she herself was.

"You seeing him tomorrow?" Smithy asked. "Richard?"

She nodded and reached for her martini, more comfortable with it now that she'd met the man in person. Usually, it took her a while to warm up to people, particularly a man, but there was something about Richard that oozed a sense of comfort and security. In honesty, she'd been so scarred by her bad experiences with men, she'd nearly insisted on a woman therapist, but was now glad that she hadn't. Maybe seeing him would also help her begin to deal with the struggles she had to trust men, even though she'd always known deep down that they weren't all as evil as Kit. If she didn't, she wouldn't be sitting opposite the wonderful man who had waited patiently for her to be ready for him instead of steamrolling over all of her boundaries like others had tried to do in the past.

"Yeah," she said. "I think I'm looking forward to it. I know that sounds weird and I was only supposed to see him in the first place to help the investigation…"

"To hell with the investigation. This is about you, now. We've got all the proof we need against Kit and more."

"They've told you what they found in his flat?"

"No," he said, then looked down, fiddling with his spoon as if he'd lost his appetite. "I haven't asked. Andrea, I'm sure they will tell you, in due course. But for now, I think you need to focus on you. Whatever it is they found, he won't be getting away with what he's done."

"At least there's that," she murmured. "And how is he? Do you know?

"Making progress with the physio, whatever that means. I was hoping for paralysis myself, but you can't have everything your own way."

He delivered that in the deadpan way only Smithy could and she laughed, remembering she'd hoped for the same thing.

"Anyway, I have tomorrow off," he said. "So, if you'd like, I can try and make some appointments in the morning to look at some of the houses. The River Garden too if you'd like."

"No," she said. "That's okay. To the River Garden, I mean. Let's look at yours and some of the others around Sun Hill. I don't think I wanted to leave here, not really. I just want to feel safe."

"And you will," he said, taking her hand. "Whatever it takes. If I have to replace every door and wall with steel, put cameras on every corner, you are going to live your life feeling safe."

"You're amazing," she said softly. "You know that, right?"

"Can I have that in writing?" he said. "I'll put it in the office and point to it whenever Gina calls me a prat."

"With a golden frame," she said and let go of his hand to finish her meal. Smithy scraped the last of his lasagne from the boat shaped bowl and pushed it away, massaging his stomach.

"You always know you're going to be satisfied when you come here," he said. "That's why I like it so much."

"Pleased to hear it, signore," said the waiter, appearing beside their table to collect their empty plates. "Perhaps yourself and this lovely signora would like one of our desserts to finish?"

"Just two of your caffè correttos, please, I think," Smithy said, looking to Andrea for her okay, in case she wanted to deviate from their norm and get a dessert instead.

"Yes, just the coffees please," she said.

The waiter gave a short, polite bow and took their dirty plates towards the back, passing the enormous portrait on the wall of an older gentleman she took to be a much respected older relative, probably the founder of the restaurant. It had always had the feel here of an old school, tight knit, family run business. Another thing she liked about coming there. Their coffees came quickly and Andrea took a long sip, savouring the bitterness of the coffee mixed with the warming dash of alcohol within.

"I'll have to learn to make these properly," she said. "Indulge ourselves at home when we find it."

"Sounds like a plan to me," he said and picked up her hand again. "Have you heard from Angus?"

"Yeah, he emailed when he got back to Melbourne. Sent me a load of pictures of his house and family. They look beautiful. I'll show you later. And he reminded us to come over. Said we're welcome to stay so we'd only have to pay for flights. And spending money of course."

"We should," Smithy said. "Spending hours on a plane isn't the most appealing thing, but I have wanted to visit Australia."

"We'll have a stopover," she said. "Maybe Dubai, that'll be nice."

"Or South Africa," he said. "I've always wanted to go there too."

She looked at him curiously and said, "I didn't know you had such wanderlust."

He shrugged and said; "I spent all my time as a kid wanting to travel like everyone else, only to watch my old man piss all the money we had away, all the way to the bottom of bottles. I promised myself that I would when I was older and I'd take my mum too, wherever she wanted to go."

"And you have?" she asked, resting her chin on her hand, looking across the table at him. Could she fall anymore in love with this man?

"We've been around the canaries. Lanzarote and Gran Canaria," he gave her a glance and added, "She has her eye on South America too. Brazil."

"And a good choice," she said. "I'll be damned before I let Kit put a taint on somewhere so beautiful."

"Well maybe we can all go?" he said. "You can show us around. I'm sure Gina wouldn't mind looking after the fluffy master. Reading between the lines, I think she misses him."

She allowed herself a smile at the thought of the terrifying Inspector in her dressing gown, whisky in hand and Hugo on her lap. Everyone had their love and maybe they'd found hers. She'd gotten Hugo when she thought she'd never have an actual child. She wasn't so sure about that now, but the Inspector was a different story; Smithy had of course told her she couldn't have any of her own.

"I'm sure he'll be pleased," she said. "I'll give Elsie a call tomorrow as well. Make plans to visit Olly."

"Sounds good," he said and finished his coffee, waiting patiently for her to finish hers as he waved down the waiter for the bill.

Andrea went into her next session with Richard feeling more at ease than she had the last time. He greeted her, on time, wearing smart trousers but with the leather jacket.

"I took your advice on board," he said, closing the office door behind them. "Showed some of my other clients my biker alter-ego, and I will say, you're right. They seem to like knowing me a little more personally. Please."

He nodded at the chairs, again waiting for her to choose one. She chose the same armchair as last time, picking up the cushion and holding it onto her lap. She liked Richard and felt as if she could trust him, but that didn't mean she was ready to let him closer to her yet. He settled in the other armchair and asked if she would be ready to tell him about Kit. He knew about him from Sam, but wanted to hear it from her. She nodded and began to speak, telling Richard how they'd first seen each other in the bar in Brazil, how she'd seen him looking over at her as she danced and drunk, but suddenly, there he'd been, beside her, dancing close, asking her name. She'd had a relationship with Phin, of course, but hadn't been used to men flirting with her so openly, as Kit had been when he'd bought her the drink and they'd stepped off the floor to drink and talk.

She'd remembered then that she'd kept glancing at the floor as they talked as she'd been shy back then with people she didn't know very well, and hoped Kirsty had been nearby to rescue her if things got too awkward. She must have glanced one too many times, for Kit had turned to look at the sea of faces, asking if she was already with someone, eyes slightly narrowed. Not wanting him to think she was a tease, she'd pointed out Kirsty, who was dancing, up-close and personal with a man she knew vaguely by sight. Kit had relaxed and asked if she wanted to go outside and get some air. He'd seemed so laid back and personable, and she'd felt at ease, so they had and had gone to talk on the beach and had done for hours until Kirsty had come to find her, so drunk she slumped to the sand, giggling moronically. Andrea, a bit annoyed by the interruption and her friend's irresponsible behaviour, had gotten up with a sigh, apologising to Kit, but she'd better take her friend back to their room. He'd immediately offered help, pulling Kirsty up, reasonably pointing out that she'd struggle to get the taller Kirsty back on her own. Andrea, though she'd been used to it, had been grateful and accepted, but it had occurred to her, much later down the line, that it had been his way of knowing where to find her later on.

"And did he?" Richard asked, shifting in his chair. "Come to find you?"

"Yeah," she said. "A few days later. Kirsty was sleeping in after yet another night of partying and I went out early. Sometimes, I just needed to be away from her for a bit, so I didn't feel so responsible for her all the time."

Kit had been hanging around outside, sitting on the wall outside the complex where they were staying, wearing denim shorts and a shirt. He'd waved at her cheerfully, his bright expression giving her no clue to the darkness within and when she'd gone to meet him, he'd asked if she wanted to get breakfast with him. She'd looked over her shoulder, thinking guiltily for a minute about Kirsty, before reminding herself how often Kirsty had ditched her to hang out with a guy, so she'd accepted his invitation. He'd taken her to a café near the beach that did the tastiest omelettes she'd ever had, even to this day, she didn't think she'd had any like it. He'd been so invested in her, so charming, asking so many questions about her and her life, and he'd paid for their food, waving away any of her money, telling her his father had always taught him that you never let someone else pay when you invited them for the meal. If that had been true, at least he'd carried that lesson forwards, and when they'd risen after eating, he'd asked if he could see her that night, formally, like he wanted to impress her. She'd agreed and they'd made arrangements to meet where they had that morning later that night and he'd walked her back to the complex, telling her he'd been around there long enough to know you could never be too careful. She'd thought him so kind then. Her lip curled then, berating herself for her stupidity, for not seeing his manipulation for what it was.

"Do you think any other eighteen year old would have thought any different to what you did?" Richard asked. "The human brain isn't thought to be fully developed since your mid to late twenties, you know. Right around the age you are now. The prefrontal cortex, the part controlling decision making, social connections and behaviour, that's when it is fully formed. I think you're being very unfair and harsh to yourself."

"You're not the first person to say that."

"Perhaps you should start believing us. Love bombing is very common in abusive relationships. It's a way for the perpetrator to gain control and create dependence. If it happened to you now, I don't doubt you'd see it for the red flag that it is. But your eighteen year old self would have felt swept off her feet, flattered by the affection, compliments, she would have felt protected by the partner who wanted to know where they were so they would know they were safe, wanted by the excessive amount of time Kit wanted to have you to himself."

She nodded as he spoke, recognising his very valid points. She'd been so blind to it back then, or at least she'd overlooked Kit's more negative traits, his jealousy, his possessiveness, and as time went on, his aggression.

"When did you start to realise that the way he behaved wasn't normal?"

"I think it was when he went with us from Brazil to Bolivia. I hadn't expected that. We'd just had a few weeks of talking under the stars on the beach and kissing. It hadn't gone any further at that point. I thought that would be it. But then, a week after we started working in Bolivia, he surprised me. He said he missed me. I don't think I reacted quite as he wanted at first. He seemed annoyed with me. Asked if I thought there was something wrong with him."

"You've heard of the term gaslighting, right?"

"Yes. I've seen the film too. Four stars." She gave him a tight smile. "Should have seen it before I met him. Anyway, he said what we had in Brazil was worth him following me to Bolivia for, that we should pick up where we left off in Brazil. Said he'd planned a big surprise for me. He'd booked a fancy hotel, Jacuzzi, champagne, big bed with rose petals all over it. That was…the first time."

Richard nodded his understanding. "That he'd wanted sex or for you?"

"Both," she said quietly. "I've never been one of those people who was determined to wait until I was married, but I wanted it to be with the right person. I wanted it to be him. Or I thought I did. I don't know why I couldn't see that under his facade of a knight in shining armour, there was nothing more than a nightmare in tinfoil."

"Again, not uncommon for young adults to want to find 'the one'," said Richard and looked up at the clock. "Okay, shall we leave it there for today? I'll see you again, same time, next week?"

Like last time, it felt as if she'd been sitting in his chair for no time at all, but she nodded, rising and replacing the cushion. Smithy was waiting for her in reception, and they were going to look at properties together. Kit, she decided, wouldn't even be an afterthought for the rest of the day.

Andrea and Smithy had viewed a few properties before arriving at the one he had pointed out the previous day. As his car pulled up outside and she stepped out, she had a good feeling about it immediately. Actually a maisonette rather than a flat, the freshly painted dark green door with its stained glass panels was instantly appealing. The previous properties, not so much. One had been too near a main road for someone like Smithy to get a decent night's sleep and the other too near a recycling plant, the smell making their eyes water. That had, of course, explained the lower price of the latter.

"Hello, Dale?"

They both turned to see a harried looking young woman rushing towards them, hand outstretched.

"Hi, I'm Stacey, the estate agent, we spoke on the phone this morning."

"Hi, thanks for the last minute view, I appreciate it," Smithy said. "This is Andrea."

"Hello," Stacey said, shaking Andrea's hand with a pleasant smile, and taking a set of keys from her pocket. "Shall we?"

"Please," Smithy said, following her to the front door.

The smell of fresh paint hit Andrea's nostrils as soon as Stacey opened the door and she looked around the property in delight, a small smile spreading over her face. She had a good feeling about this place.

"This is a fairly new property to us," Stacey said. "Newly refurbished and decorated. Gas central heating and double glazed throughout."

"The owner wants to sell up already?" Smithy asked.

Stacey shrugged and said, "He's a property magnet who buys run down, derelict properties, restores them to their former glory, and then sells them on. He makes a lot of money through it."

"I'm in the wrong career," Smithy muttered.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a police officer at Sun Hill."

"We can guarantee the street's safety then," Stacey said. "If you buy, of course. I'll be sure to add that onto the listings for any other properties we sell if you do. What about you? What do you do?"

Andrea was a bit caught off-guard, but answered, "I was a journalist. But I've been unwell the last few months, so I'm looking for something else right now."

"Oh I'm sorry to hear that," Stacey said sincerity. "I hope you're feeling better?"

"Getting there," Andrea said. "Thank you."

She walked through to the sitting room. It was bare of any furnishing, but that was okay. Between her and Smithy, they had enough furniture to fill the property. The garden was spacious, she was sure Hugo would love it. She cocked her head to the side as she looked out of the sliding doors. Maybe they could get one of those little greenhouses, grow some herbs, and plant some flowers.

"Lovely kitchen," Smithy said, poking his head out. "Come and look."

She followed him in and nodded. It wasn't overly big, but it was separate from the sitting room, which was a good thing. The noise of the washing machine was enough to ruin any night in when you were trying to watch TV.

"There's a bedroom on this floor," Stacey said, indicating they should follow her. "Fitted wardrobes, with a small ensuite."

Andrea followed her to the bedroom and let out a small 'oh' of surprise. The room was bigger than she was expecting, and also had sliding doors to the garden. The ensuite, though, wasn't very big, and only had a shower.

"There's another bathroom upstairs," Stacey said, catching her look. "Again, fully refurbished with a tub."

"Oh, good," she said. "Kind of a deal breaker for me."

"You women and your bathtub soaks," Smithy said, poking his head into the ensuite to look, impressed. "I don't see the appeal myself."

"We wouldn't expect you to," Stacey said, shooting a conspiratorial look at Andrea who laughed. "Go ahead, take a look upstairs. I'll wait here."

Andrea and Smithy went upstairs where she looked at the bigger bathroom, pleased with the large gleaming white tub. There were two other rooms, one a decent size and the other not much more than a box.

"Would make a decent office," Smithy said, holding her to his side. "When you start working again."

"I was just thinking that," she said.

"You thought anymore about your friend's offer?"

"A bit," she said.

"I think it'd be great for you," he said. "You were a great cop, Andrea. I know it's not the same thing, nowhere near. But it's as close as you'll get again."

It was stated without any hint of bitterness or anger.

"Yeah, I know," she said. "I'll give him a call. Talk to him a bit more about it. I think I need to know more about it before I make any choice."

"Sounds wise to me," he said and wrapped his arms around her waist, giving her a kiss. "So? What do you think?"

"I like it," she said. "I really like it."

"We can get an alarm," he said. "And a gate if it makes you feel safer. A mate of mine does home security. I might be able to get us a deal."

"Well in that case," she said, "shall we go and talk deposits with Stacey?"

With their deposit accepted, Stacey had kindly agreed for the property to be taken off the market, pending the outcome of the couple's mortgage application and, on the acceptance of that, the solicitors to begin the exchange on contracts. Andrea had several viewings of her current flat, and a young couple seemed particularly interested. She'd forgotten what a pain house buying was, but it would all be worth it in the end. She was at home, wondering if it was too early to begin sorting out what to keep and what to get rid of when a knocking on the door startled her.

"Andrea? Are you there?"

She blinked, recognising the voice but not quite believing it until she opened the door.

"Logan?"

Logan Lockwood looked like he'd ran all the way to hers from the news office; beads of sweat decorated his pale face.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course," she said, standing back to let him in, alarmed. "Do you want a coffee? You look like you need one."

"Got anything stronger?"

She stared. It wasn't particularly unusual for journalists to have a tipple or two whilst working – or maybe that was just the ones at the Daily News – but she hadn't remembered Logan to be one of those. Nor had she; mostly it had been the older ones. She poured him a large glass of scotch and was about to ask if he wanted ice, before she could, he grabbed the glass downing it in one.

"Sorry," he said. "Jennifer said you were back, she said she'd seen you a few times, and I wasn't going to come, I mean, I thought we'd said all we needed to each other, but then…"

He stopped and gulped down a breath.

"Logan, you're scaring me. What's happened?"

He held the glass out to her in a silent question. She obliged and refilled the glass, a feeling of dread rising inside her. She didn't get the feeling Logan was deliberately drawing out whatever it was, she'd never seen him look so…scared. He drank from the glass, slowly this time, then sat at the table shakily.

"Sorry," he said. "But I received some information recently, and…it was quite heavily insinuated that you didn't know yet, and I don't know who else might have been told, and I didn't want you to find out last with it all over the papers. Again. Not that I'm publishing it, I'd never…"

Andrea swallowed hard, the dread in her rising by the minute and she asked; "is this about Kit?"

He pushed the chair opposite him out to her with his foot and replied; "I think you should sit down. I need to tell you something and I need you to let me speak and not interrupt."

She did, and he began to talk, eyes on the table, as if he couldn't bear to watch her expression. She listened, and gradually, all of her senses seemed to fade away, the chair beneath her, the table before her and all she could see was Logan, all she could hear was him talking, telling her what he was, answering the burning questions that had nagged her ever since Gina Gold had insinuated they'd found more in his flat than the evidence of his crimes they could charge him with. She hadn't expected it to be anything good, but this seemed to be so much worse than anything she could have ever imagined. The fragile peace she'd managed to find over the last few weeks was shattered, irreparably, before her. She realised that Logan had stopped speaking, but it was only after he did that he raised his head and on seeing her ghostly white face, he bit his lip and shook his head.

"I'm really sorry, Andrea," he said sadly. "I know the police were probably going to tell you in due course. But I thought you had the right to know."