| Episode: 51
“Come Home” By Darren Rowe Five months later… Winston’s Point Somerset Stood at the edge of Winston’s Point, Grace looked out at the magnificent Atlantic Ocean before her and inhaled a deep, soul cleansing breath as the rough waves crashed against the limestone cliffs and a cool fall breeze gently swirled around her. A soft smile crossed the Goodwin matriarch’s face as watched the sun slowly sink down into the ocean, the rippling sea twinkling with light as the setting sun’s rays reflected off the deep, dark body of water. Grace didn’t really know why she was smiling, she just was. Standing there, alone on that cliff, she felt alive. She felt free. She felt ready to live again. Five months, five long, emotional and life-changing months had passed since Kate’s death and in that space of time Grace had witnessed a change in her Spencer Street friends and neighbours. For the first time in a very long time there was love again, there was family and there was a new hope in Spencer Street. Some had come and some had gone, some had loved and some had lost, but there was a new spirit, a unity that seemed to bind everyone together and a feeling of love and community that Grace hadn’t felt since the terrible hospital shooting rampage in 2004. Although Spencer Street had seemingly recovered from that fateful day five months ago, Grace couldn’t help but miss hearing Kate’s voice, smelling her sweet perfume or seeing her smiling face in the morning. But sadly, with every passing day, Grace’s memory of Kate faded just a little. The sound of her voice became duller; the smell of her perfume became fainter and the memory of her face began to fade. Grace had watched Chloe sink into a soul-destroying darkness following the deaths of both Kate and Stuart before seeming to rise from the ashes stronger than ever. She’d seen Cain imprisoned for ten years and suffered through the torment of having had Felicity forcibly taken from her care and returned to Jessica. She’d learnt of Charlie’s abandonment and watched on as he was handed over to a kind foster family. She’d not heard a word from Nicole. Her calls to the psychiatric hospital were rejected and on the times she made the journey to visit, Nicole refused to see her. But no matter how much Nicole tried to push Grace away, the caring grandmother never gave up on her and believed that one day, the old Nicole would come back home to Spencer Street. Yet through the seemingly endless months of heartache, tears and drama, Grace had found herself again and had emerged more in love with life than ever before. Turning away from the edge of the cliff, Grace headed back across the grassy cliff top towards her car. Although the past five months had been nothing more than a living nightmare, Grace knew that, for the first time in a long time, things were going to be okay. Reaching her small red hatchback, Grace looked back over her shoulder and took one last look at the magnificent sunset. With her warm smile broadening, Grace finally felt ready to move on and live her life. – spencer street – The Hudson Residence 21 Spencer Street Opening the front door, Calvin let out an exhausted sigh as he dropped his keys into a small ceramic dish on the sideboard before gently closing the door. Since re-opening The Austral nearly five months ago, Calvin had yet to have a night off and the stresses and strains of working fifteen-hour days were now beginning to take their toll. He felt permanently tired, he was lucky if he got to spend more than a few hours at home with Georgia and the fact that Adam, Georgia’s wayward younger brother, had moved in for an indefinite stay was doing little to help the situation. As he entered the living room, an inviting waft of roast lamb tantalised and teased Calvin’s senses, luring him into the kitchen. “Mmm, something smells good,” Calvin purred in Georgia’s ear as he snuck up behind his wife, wrapping his arms around her waist and softly kissing her neck. “It’s a new recipe I’m trying,” Georgia replied with a coy smile, trying to keep focus and follow the recipe in her new cookbook while Calvin playfully nibbled at her earlobe. Calvin’s hands slowly slid across the soft fabric of Georgia’s purple silk blouse and travelled up her torso. “I wasn’t talking about the roast,” he whispered softly before tenderly kissing the side of Georgia’s neck. “Oh really?” Georgia spun around and looked at Calvin with a naughty grin. This was the first sign of interest Calvin had shown in months and Georgia wasn’t about to let the moment pass. Calvin playfully winked at his wife as he backed her up against the kitchen bench and planted a passionate kiss on her mouth. The couple’s lips fused together as one as Georgia ran her hands up Calvin’s back, the tips of her fingernails gliding over the top of Calvin’s new cotton shirt. “Is Adam home?” Calvin asked in a soft whisper, unbuttoning the first button of Georgia’s blouse as he maintained eye contact with his wife. Georgia shook her head slightly and smiled back at her husband. “No, he’s still out job hunting.” “So we’ve got the place to ourselves?” A wicked grin sat permanently fixed to Georgia’s face. “It would appear so,” she replied, biting down on her bottom lip as she unbuttoned the first few buttons of Calvin’s shirt and slipped her hands inside, running the tips of her fingernails over his naked chest. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Calvin asked with a cocked eyebrow as he unbuttoned another button on Georgia’s silk blouse. “That it should only be about another ten minutes before the roast is ready?” Georgia grinned before shooting Calvin a playful wink. “Then yes, I am.” Calvin laughed as he leaned in and kissed Georgia once more. The feeling of her warm body pressed against his made Calvin’s heart pound in his chest. He loved Georgia more than anything else in the world and wanted nothing more than to have her right there, right then. The front door slammed shut and Adam trudged into the kitchen, a cloud of defeat hanging over him. “Omigod!” he gasped, his eyes wide with shock as he caught Georgia and Calvin hastily trying to button up their shirts. “You guys weren’t…you know…” “No!” Georgia laughed with a shake of her head as she snatched her cookbook from the kitchen bench and began to flick through it as if she’d been doing exactly that when Adam had walked in and caught her and Calvin. “Of course not.” Calvin shot Georgia an unimpressed look before walking out of the kitchen shaking his head. “So,” Georgia said, stalling for time as she tried to compose herself and regain her breath. “Any luck?” “Nope,” Adam replied rather nonchalant as he opened the refrigerator and searched the contents of its shelves for something to eat. “It appears no one in Somerset has a position available for someone with a criminal record.” Georgia placed her cookbook back down on the kitchen countertop and folded her arms as she watched Adam rummage through the refrigerator like a famished teenager. “Well I hardly think that’s true.” Adam poked his head over the top of the stainless steel refrigerator door and looked back at his sister. “George, they wouldn’t even consider me for a position as a cleaner. I mean, how much lower do I have to go before I’m deemed suitable?” “I’m sure something will come up,” Georgia sighed through pursed lips. “You just have to be patient.” Georgia knew that it was going to be tough for Adam to find work, but she had confidence in him and was determined to keep his spirits up. Although he’d been in prison for the past five years, that was no reason for her or society to give up on him. He was still her kid brother, the one who was exceptionally good with his hands and cars and Georgia was determined to help Adam turn his life around. “Patient. Right,” Adam scoffed as he slammed shut the refrigerator door, disappointed in the lack of tempting offerings. “Well,” Georgia began, already regretting her next suggestion before it had even slipped from her lips. “You could always work at the bar until you find something more permanent.” Adam looked over at his sister, his eyes full of hope. “Really?” “Yeah, of course. Isn’t that right, Calvin?” Georgia smiled at her husband as he re-entered the kitchen and headed across the room towards the refrigerator. “What’s that?” Calvin asked, taking a can of beer from the refrigerator before quickly opening it. “That Adam could work at The Austral until something more permanent comes along,” Georgia suggested, nervously scratching her chin as she awaited Calvin’s reaction. She knew Adam working at The Austral wasn’t going to sit too well with Calvin, but Georgia hoped that by having Adam in the room, Calvin would feel pressured into agreeing. Calvin stared back at his wife. “Er, actually, we’re fully staffed at the moment, so…” An unsurprised grin slinked its way across Adam’s face as he looked at his brother-in-law. He knew there was a snowball’s chance in hell of Calvin letting him work in The Austral and Adam couldn’t blame him. They’d never been best friends, or even friends, and for Calvin to let Adam work in The Austral was one bitter pill too many for Calvin to swallow. “Calvin!” Georgia hissed, unsurprised by her husband’s response but disappointed by it none the less. “No, its cool. I understand,” Adam said, holding his hands up as he looked back at Georgia. Georgia looked at her brother and frowned. “No, Adam its not cool,” she snarled, her disappointment and anger at Calvin’s response now beginning to get the better of her. “You need our help.” “I can’t take him on,” Calvin shrugged. “Like I said, we’re fully staffed, George. What do you want me to do? Wave a magic wand and suddenly make another position available?” Calvin looked at Adam. “If I could take you on I would.” “Oh that’s such a load of BS, Calvin!” Georgia snarled with a roll of her eyes. Calvin’s refusal to believe that Adam had changed was now beginning to wear thin and Georgia refused to let her brother continue to be treated like a second-class citizen. “George, really its fine,” Adam smiled meekly at his sister. “I’m sure I’ll get something soon. I’ve just gotta keep at it, that’s all.” Georgia’s heart broke as she saw the look of disappointment and shame in Adam’s eyes. She wanted to help him, she wanted to give him the world, but she faced one major hurdle – Calvin. “I’m gonna go hit the shower.” “Adam, wait,” Georgia said as Adam turned to leave the kitchen and head upstairs. Adam looked back over his shoulder at Georgia. “No, really George, its okay,” he smiled softly. “Its cool.” As Adam walked out of the kitchen feeling dejected and dragging his feet, Georgia’s stern stare focussed on Calvin. “What?” Calvin shrugged rather dismissively. “What do you mean ‘what’?” Georgia snapped, furious with Calvin’s behaviour. “He needs our help, Calvin and you’re just going to let him go under?” Calvin groaned and rolled his eyes. He was sick and tired of Georgia’s mercy mission to save Adam and prove to everyone that he was now an upstanding member of society. There was something about Adam that Calvin didn’t trust and he never would. “The guys an ex-con, Georgia!” “Who also happens to be my brother!” Georgia snapped, folding her arms across her chest as she watched Calvin take a swig of his beer. “So that entitles him to some sort of special treatment?” “No, it entitles him to our unconditional love and support.” “Your unconditional love and support,” Calvin corrected, his patience wearing thin as yet another conversation with Georgia deteriorated into an argument about Adam. “He’s not my brother.” “So that’s it?” Georgia said, throwing her arms in the air, frustrated by the conversation she found herself embroiled in. “Your just going to turn you back on him?” Calvin looked back at Georgia and nodded. “Pretty much.” “When he needs our support the most?” Calvin slammed his can of beer down on the kitchen countertop and stared back at his wife. “He’s been here for four and a half months, Georgia. How much longer do we have to support him for?” Georgia let out a deep sigh as she rubbed the centre of her forehead with an index finger. She knew it was difficult for Calvin to understand what Adam was going through and she understood that Calvin found it hard to understand why he should have to support Adam until he found his feet, but it was just something they had to do. If they didn’t help him no one else would and then it would only be a matter of time before Adam was back in prison. “Its difficult,” Georgia sighed once more. “The economy’s bad and him being a…” Georgia paused, struggling to continue her sentence. “A reformed convict doesn’t help the matter.” “So we’re just supposed to continue to give him money and let him live here rent free until the economy gets better, is that what you’re telling me?” Calvin asked smugly, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh my God!” Georgia groaned as the conversation continued to go round and round in circles. “What is your problem with him?” “How long have you got?” Calvin scoffed, instantly collating a list of Adam’s faults and problems in his mind. Georgia’s stare narrowed as she glared back at her husband. “How can you be so horrible?” she said softly, astounded that Calvin harboured such a deep resentment towards Adam. “And how can you be so blind?” Calvin asked, his arms falling to his sides as he walked the few feet across the kitchen towards Georgia. “He’s using us, George and the sooner you wake up and realise it the better.” “Oh I can’t speak to you when you’re being like this!” Georgia snapped as she turned and started to storm out of the kitchen. “Oh that’s right, just walk away. You seem to have become awfully good at that lately!” Georgia spun around and glared back at Calvin. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Oh, I don’t know,” Calvin shrugged, “maybe the fact you haven’t mentioned Sarah’s name once since she left the hospital.” Her eyes wide with astonishment, Georgia slowly shook her head in disbelief. “Oh right, so it’s my fault she suddenly decided to leave Somerset?” “You certainly didn’t help the matter!” Calvin snarled, his anger and belief that Georgia had something to do with Sarah’s departure getting the better of him. “What was I supposed to do, Calvin? Stand guard over her door?” “Anything would’ve been better than just leaving her,” Calvin roared in reply. While he knew Sarah’s leaving wasn’t Georgia’s fault, Calvin couldn’t help but feel his wife had played some part in Sarah’s departure. Things just didn’t add up. While Sarah wasn’t bouncing off the walls when he had last visited her, she wasn’t planning on leaving Somerset any time soon and then, just hours after Georgia’s last visit, Sarah was gone. Calvin believed something had happened or was said during Georgia’s last visit that made Sarah decide to flee Somerset under the cover of darkness. “It was the end of visiting hours!” Georgia snarled, trying to make Calvin see that Sarah’s leaving had nothing to do with her. “My God, how long are you going to keep punishing me for? It wasn’t my fault she left the hospital. None of this is my fault!” “Well whatever you said to her that night had such an impact on her that she felt she had no other choice but to runaway. So when you can bring her home, that’s when I’ll stop punishing you.” Georgia glared back at her husband. “You are unbelievable!” she whispered, hurt by Calvin’s constant interrogations and belief that she was responsible for Sarah’s departure. “What?” Calvin frowned back at his wife. “You using Sarah’s vanishing act to punish me, when what you’re really punishing me for is letting Adam stay with us.” “Oh give it a rest!” Calvin said with another roll of his eyes. Once again the conversation had turned to Adam and Calvin was getting sick and tired of talking about his lay-about, no-good brother-in-law. “No! The fact of the matter is, Calvin that Adam is part of this family and he’ll be here for as long as he wants, so you’d better get used to it!” As Georgia stormed out of the kitchen and into the living room, abruptly ending her argument with Calvin, Adam sat at the top of the staircase listening to the raging argument that had just come to end. Hearing Georgia huffing and puffing to herself in the living room and the back door slam shut as Calvin stormed outside, a sly smile slowly slinked its way across Adam’s face. – spencer street – The Lawson Residence 19 Spencer Street “This is the one,” Hazel said, handing Laura a large hardback cookbook entitled The Gourmet Chef, before joining her daughter-in-law at the small meals table in the centre of the large kitchen. “Thanks for this, Hazel,” Laura casually flicked through the pages, looking at the many recipe’s in a pretend wonderment. Cooking wasn’t really her ‘thing’ and as soon as she’d mentioned to Hazel that she’d lost her copy, Laura realised she was about to enter into a polite yet boring conversation she didn’t really want to have. “I could’ve sworn I had a copy, but it obviously still in one of the boxes I haven’t unpacked.” “You still haven’t unpacked?” Hazel’s eyes widened in astonishment as she looked at Laura whist taking a sip of her coffee. “Well I’ve been busy,” Laura said somewhat dismissively as she gently placed the large cookbook down on the table. Hazel smiled. She knew Laura was no Martha Stewart, but the fact she still hadn’t unpacked amused her. “Sweetheart, it’s been nearly three months.” “I know,” Laura sighed, as the thought of having to trawl through the dozens of boxes littered throughout her apartment taunted her, “but, well, to tell you the truth, I just can’t be bothered. It’s a weird organised chaos at the moment and I kind of know where everything is.” “Except cookbooks,” Hazel joked. “Except cookbooks,” Laura repeated with a soft smile. “And cutlery and crockery and pots and pans...pretty much anything kitchen related is somewhere in my house…I’m just not sure where.” Hazel shook her head in disbelief, unable to wipe the smile from her face. “So what have you been eating this whole time?” “Well, lets just say that Mr Chong from Chong’s Chinese and I have become quite good friends.” Hazel sniggered with laughter. “Well then you’re coming out to dinner with us tonight,” she ordered, taking another sip of her coffee. “Oh no,” Laura politely refused with a shake of her head as the thought of dinner with the in-laws instead of a night in front of the TV watching Bridget Jones’ Diary left her terrified. She loved Hazel and Miles more than anything in the world, but at the end of the day she didn’t want to be seeing them 24/7. “I wouldn’t want to impose.” “Sweetheart,” Hazel began, reaching across the table and resting a hand atop Laura’s. “You’re Mark’s wife and you’re part of this family whether you like it or not. So I insist…and before you say anything you have no choice in the matter.” “You’re sure?” Laura asked, hoping by some miracle Hazel would suddenly change her mind. “I’ve pre-booked a table for four I’m that sure,” Hazel winked as she retracted her hand and took another sip of her coffee. Great, Laura thought to herself as she smiled politely back at Hazel before lifting her white china cup of coffee to her lips and taking a sip. Her mind suddenly kicked into overdrive as she realised Hazel said a table for four meaning Nick was obviously attending too. Thank God! Salvation! “Although,” Hazel began, noticing the time on the digital clock of the microwave, “if Miles isn’t home soon we may just lose our reservation.” Laura placed her cup of coffee back down on the table and looked at Hazel. “How are things with Miles, if you don’t mind me asking?” “No, sweetheart, its fine,” Hazel replied sweetly, a strained smile on her face. “Um…they’re the same. No better, no worse.” “And you’re still…?” “Yes,” Hazel nodded, “still in separate bedrooms.” Hazel was incredibly thankful Laura didn’t mind being her confidant. After only four and a half months in Somerset, Hazel didn’t yet feel close enough to Georgia or Grace to be discussing the intimate details of her strained marriage with them. “Right,” Laura pursed her lips together as she digested the latest update of the seemingly never-ending Miles/Hazel marriage saga. After Hazel discovered Miles’ affair with his secretary, Laura was certain that their marriage was over, but, now living in an entirely new city, Laura had to give credit to her in-law’s for trying to make things work. “I think I’m healing,” Hazel continued, thoughts of catching Miles with his pants down – literally, polluting her mind. “Well, it feels like I’m healing so maybe in time…?” “Well I think that you giving him a second chance is an incredibly noble thing to do, Hazel. I really do.” Hazel looked at Laura and smiled back at her. Although it was comforting to have Laura’s support, Hazel wasn’t so sure giving Miles a second chance was the right thing to do. The trust she once had in him was completely gone and Hazel was beginning to question whether she still loved her husband at all. “So,” Hazel began, shifting focus from her messy marriage, “have you heard from the boy lately?” “Yeah,” Laura’s face lit up as she thought about her husband. “I spoke to him last weekend.” “All’s going well?” “As well as things can go in Afghanistan,” Laura replied, taking another sip of her coffee. Hazel looked down at her near empty cup of coffee. “It must be hard for you, being all-alone in that big apartment?” she asked, thoughts of Mark and concerns for his safety washing away any thoughts of Miles. “It isn’t too bad,” Laura replied, her mind wondering what Mark was doing at that very instant and whether he was thinking about her too. “I try and keep myself occupied and now the salon’s up and running, that helps. It’s just at night when I’m in bed that I really miss him. It’s the silence that gets to me. And then when the phone goes my heart just stops.” “I know the feeling,” Hazel looked back at Laura. “I haven’t answered the phone in months. I can’t. I just can’t bear the thought of hearing those words.” Hazel had always fiercely protected her children but now Mark was away from home, fighting in Afghanistan, Hazel had no control, no ability to protect her son and it terrified her to death. With every telephone call or every news report about another soldier’s death, Hazel’s heart would stop as she waited to see whether her son had become yet another war fatality, another statistic in the ever-increasing total of heroic service men and women lost defending their country. “He is going to be okay, isn’t he?” Laura looked at Hazel, desperately seeking reassurance that Mark would make it home safe and sound. Hazel reached across the table and rested a hand on Laura’s once more. “He’s my son, Laura,” Hazel looked into Laura’s eyes, determined to allay any fears her daughter-in-law may have had. “He’s a fighter. And besides, he has a beautiful wife waiting for him at home.” A soft smile crossed Laura’s face as Hazel’s incredibly kind and reassuring words rang in her ears. Although she wanted to believe Hazel that Mark would be okay, until he was actually home and back in her arms would she believe it. The Lawson’s front door opened before quickly slamming shut. “Hey, Ma,” Nick called out cheerfully from the living room as he removed his thick black coat and tossed it onto the sofa before walking into the kitchen and planting a sweet kiss on Hazel’s cheek. “Evening, sweetheart,” Hazel smiled as Nick joined them at the table. “Laura,” Nick winked at his sister-in-law. “Nick,” Laura replied with a broad smile as she felt herself immediately relax. Although she loved Hazel and enjoyed spending time with her, things were just so more relaxed when Nick was around. She was with someone her own age, someone who wasn’t always on at her about the war or troubles with the economy and someone who genuinely made her feel happy and forget about all the problems in the world. “So what time’s the reservation for?” Nick asked, running a hand through his jet-black hair as he leaned back in his seat. “Seven thirty,” Hazel replied before looking at the microwave over Nick’s shoulder. “Has she asked you to join us yet?” Nick asked, looking at Laura. Laura nodded at her brother-in-law as she took another sip of her coffee. “Let me guess,” Nick continued. “It was a ‘oh you should join us for dinner, I insist’ type of invitation?” “Exactly the one!” Laura laughed, returning her cup of coffee to the table. Nick looked back at his mother with a broad grin on his face. “You’re so predictable.” “What?” Hazel’s eyes widened as she protested her innocence. Nick looked back at Laura, shaking his head at how his mother’s once elaborate and masterful schemes of the past had degenerated into the predictable and poorly executed schemes of today. “She’s had this booked for weeks,” Nick said, a perfect smile settling across his face. “One of the many things you’ll discover about living in the same city as my mother…you can never escape her.” “Shouldn’t you be going to have a shower and get ready?” Hazel suggested with a gentle kick under the table. Nick’s body jolted at his mother’s soft kick. “I guess I’ll be going to have a shower and get ready,” he said, shooting Hazel a mischievous grin before rising from his seat and walking out of the kitchen. “He seems to be coping with the split from Anna quite well,” Laura said as she watched Nick disappear up the stairs. It had been three months since Nick broke off his engagement to his high school sweetheart, Anna, and Laura was astounded at how well he was coping with things. “He puts on a brave face,” Hazel said, relieved that Nick had actually come to his senses and ended things with Anna before they got any more serious. While she would never meddle in her children’s love lives, Hazel had never liked Anna and held great fears that Nick would actually marry her. But finally, after eight agonising years, Nick saw Anna’s true colours and the engagement was ended quicker than one of Pamela Anderson’s marriages. The telephone suddenly began to ring and a thick tension immediately filled the Lawson home as Laura and Hazel both whipped their heads around and stared at the pearl white handset sitting on the kitchen bench, neither one brave enough or willing to take the call. “I’ll get it,” Nick yelled out, bounding down the stairs, desperate to get to the phone before it went to message bank. The telephone’s shrill, demanding screams for attention were silenced as Nick raced into the kitchen and snatched the handset from its stand. “Hello?” Laura and Hazel both looked at Nick with abated breath, praying that something dreadful hadn’t happened in Afghanistan. “Dad, hi,” Nick smiled, spinning around and looking and Hazel and Laura with relief. “Yeah of course we can meet you there.” Hazel looked at Laura and smiled, silently breathing a sigh of relief. Although they’d dodged yet another bullet and Hazel tried her best to maintain a positive attitude and outlook on the situation, the steely mother couldn’t help but worry that one day they’d all be caught off guard and be told the devastating news about Mark’s sudden and untimely passing. – spencer street – Bella’s Coffee House 48 Park Avenue The automatic doors of the popular coffee house slid open as Paige breezed into Bella’s with all the confidence and perfect strut of a Victoria’s Secret model. “Hi,” the raven-haired beauty smiled sweetly at the handsome 20-something barista as she removed her oversized Gucci sunglasses. “I’ll just have a thin latte, thanks.” Awaiting her order, Paige cast an eye over the patrons scattered throughout the sparsely populated café in the hope of spotting someone she recognised. “Paige,” Chloe waved at her friend, motioning for her to join her. “Over here.” For a Friday evening, the café was seemingly empty and Chloe cut a sad and lonely figure as she sat tucked away in the corner, the latest issue of Vogue her only companion. “Oh. My. God!” Paige gasped, seemingly lost for breath as she walked over to join Chloe at the small table. Her eyes wide with astonishment, Paige’s mouth dropped open as she stared at Chloe. “The hair!” Chloe ran a hand through her loosely curled and recently darkened locks. “You like?” she beamed, thrilled beyond belief with her new, moodier look. The sweet, good girl blonde tresses that had become her trademark were gone, replaced with a sleek, sexy and more mature new dark brown do. The new look also gave Chloe a seemingly new lease on life. The old Chloe was gone and in her place sat a confident, mature young woman who had tragically endured more heartache and suffering than most. “Me love!” Paige said, taking a seat at the table as she stared at Chloe’s darker hair in amazement. Paige had never thought about Chloe going dark, but now she had, Paige couldn’t picture Chloe any other way. “I thought I’d go dark for winter.” “Well it definitely suits,” Paige enthused, herself thinking about going darker until she realised she already had black hair. “Its gorg! Divine!” Chloe smiled at Paige, pleased that her new look had received such a positive reaction from one of Spencer Street’s resident style diva’s and Victoria Beckham wannabes. “So what are you doing here all-alone like some Nigel No Friends?” Paige smiled at Chloe. “I’m meeting Ollie for a picnic in fifteen minutes and just needed to kill some time.” “Ollie? A picnic? Should I be thinking…?” “Oh no,” Chloe replied with a shake of her head, immediately dismissing Paige’s suggestions that her date with Ollie was anything more than a twilight picnic. “We’re a long way off that.” “Really?” Paige raised an eyebrow as she watched Chloe flick through her copy of Vogue; clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had suddenly taken. Chloe looked back at Paige from beneath her brow. “We’re taking things very slow.” “My God you must have some strong wheel-power,” Paige sighed as she slouched down in her seat, her body seeming to deflate as Chloe squashed any speculation about a wedding proposal. “If he was my boyfriend I’d be all over him like Paris Hilton at a red carpet event. By the way, what’s up with that weird eye thing she’s got going on?” “Omigod! I know!” Chloe replied, suddenly taken with her favourite topic of conversation – the train wreck that was Paris Hilton. Paige sat up in her seat as her conversation with Chloe picked up pace, words battered back and forth with the speed of a grand slam tennis final. “I mean, hello, you can afford to get it fixed.” “I know!” “Sometimes I just want to smack her in the face and go, ‘hello, you’re so not hot. Get over yourself!’” Chloe chuckled to herself as she watched Paige get riled up over her least favourite celebrity. It was the one thing that you were guaranteed to get a fiery response from Paige about. Just the mere mention of the name Paris Hilton sent the Madison Magazine columnist into overdrive. “Speaking of PH, have you seen her in Bizarre this week?” “Yes, but did you see the photo of Kimberley Sterling?” Paige smiled as her the conversation swung from her least favourite celebrity to one of the ones she loved most. “How gorgeous does she look?” “That’s my dress,” Chloe beamed with pride as she remembered her reaction when she heard the one and only Kimberley Sterling had been spotted in one of her chic new cocktail dresses. “No!” Paige gasped, her mouth dropping open as she clutched a hand to her chest. “Omigod!” “I know!” “Kimberley Sterling,” Paige repeated as she tried to get her head around Chloe’s news. “The Kimberley Sterling, wearing a Chloe G original?! Shut up! Shut! Up!” “I know!” Chloe could hardly believe the news herself. Kimberley Sterling was wearing one of her designs. When she was a model, seeing photos of herself splashed throughout the world’s many tabloids in designs by such fashion institutions as Westwood, Dior and Lagerfeld brought a smile to Chloe’s face, but there was something extra exciting and incredibly gratifying about seeing another celebrity in one of her own designs gracing the covers of the trashy mags. Chloe felt that she had actually achieved something. Her hard work was on show and the world’s media was going absolutely crazy over the shimmery, figure hugging emerald green party frock that was already being dubbed ‘the must have for the holidays’. “Exciting or what?!” Paige sat back in her seat and stared off into space as if lost in some wonderful world as thoughts of Kimberly Sterling filled her mind. “Oh, I love her,” she sighed. “No, I adore her. I’m seriously thinking about being her for Halloween.” As Chloe and Paige erupted in a spontaneous cackle of laughter, the coffee house fell silent as the nine or so other customers lifted their heads from their magazine, newspaper, book, laptop or BlackBerry and immediately trained their focus on the two giggling women. Although it was a normally busy café bursting with sporadic laughter, scandalous chatter and uber cool patrons, Bella’s Coffee House now resembled a deathly quiet library but Chloe and Paige couldn’t care less. They were having a good time and didn’t care what anyone else thought. “How did we get here?” Chloe asked, wiping away a tear of laughter as she tried to calm herself. She hadn’t had a good laugh in months and was grateful that Paige knew how to lighten the mood and make everything seem better. “I don’t know,” Paige frowned, completely ignoring the numerous glares of annoyance and irritation. “What were we even talking about? And where’s my coffee?” she asked, looking back over her shoulder at the young barista, shooting him a not so polite glare as her urgent need for a serious caffeine hit intensified. “We were talking about me and Ollie,” Chloe reminded Paige as she closed her copy of Vogue and settled in for a long conversation. “Oh yes!” Paige looked back at Chloe with a broad smile. “You and Ollie. Come on, dish. What’s the plan for this picnic?” “It’s just a quiet picnic in the gardens,” Chloe shrugged, refusing to believe that Oliver had anything more planned than a light supper of sandwiches, pastries and champagne. “Ah ha,” Paige replied with a raised brow, looking away as if she didn’t believe a word Chloe had said. “It is,” Chloe insisted. A wicked grin broke across Paige’s face as she looked back at her dear friend. “If you say so.” “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Paige let out a deep sigh. “Chloe, babes,” she began, shooting Chloe a look that screamed ‘you seriously need me to explain this to you?’ “If I know guys, and believe me, I know guys, he is so going to propose.” “What?!” Chloe frowned, pulling her chin down into her chest as she grappled with Paige’s theory. “No.” “Trust me, babes. I have psychotic powers; even Hamish says so.” “No,” Chloe shook her head dismissively. There was no way Oliver was going to propose. They’d only been officially ‘together’ just over four months. It was way too soon to be talking or even thinking about marriage and Chloe had serious reservations that she would ever be ready to walk down the aisle. “It’s too early,” she continued, trying to persuade herself more so than Paige that Oliver was a long way from proposing. “It’s only been…no…he wouldn’t, would he?” “Babes,” Paige began as she pursed her lips together and cocked an eyebrow. “With that hair, even I’m finding it hard not to propose to you.” Chloe smiled at her friend’s lighthearted comment, but she couldn’t shake the unnerving feeling that Paige might have been onto something. “Well, what am I going to say if he asks?” “Ah, yes!” Paige insisted with a raised brow, shocked that Chloe would even have to question what her response should be. How could she not want to marry Oliver? If he were Paige’s boyfriend, she’d have whisked him down the aisle after the first date to ensure he was hers forever. Chloe shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she thought about the possibility of Oliver proposing. “But I don’t think I’m ready,” she said with a sad sincerity as she looked into Paige’s eyes. “I don’t think we’re ready.” “Are you serious?” Paige gasped, leaning forward in her seat, engrossed by Chloe’s uncertainty about her relationship with Oliver. “He is only like the hottest guy going and you’d seriously turn him down? Are you feeling okay?” “I’m just not ready,” Chloe replied with a bit more conviction, feeling more sound in her belief that marriage wasn’t for her just yet. “I’m still trying to find out who I am, you know?” “Of course,” Paige said with a soft smile as she thought about what Chloe had endured this past six months. “Things have changed for everyone these past few months and you just need some time to find yourself again.” “Exactly,” Chloe sighed with a nod. She was so incredibly grateful that Paige got her. For all her zany comments and mispronounced words, Paige was one of the few people who would tell Chloe the truth whether she wanted to hear it or not and Chloe was incredibly thankful for her new friend. “But what about you?” Chloe smiled warmly at Paige, trying to get her to open up about her violent mugging five months ago, something Paige had been reluctant to talk about with anyone. “Are you okay?” “Me?!” Paige frowned somewhat dismissively as she tried to steer the conversation away from the attack she still hadn’t fully recovered from emotionally. “Babes, never better,” she lied with a warm, fake smile. “One skinny latte,” the young barista called out as he looked across the café towards Paige, determined to point out her mistake in ordering in the hope of embarrassing her. “Oh that’s me,” Paige waved at the barista, inviting him to bring her freshly brewed latte over to her as she turned her body and looked back over her shoulder at the counter. The young barista looked at Paige for a brief second before placing her coffee down on the counter and walking off, refusing to carry the steaming beverage over to the stunning beauty. Paige’s mouth dropped open in shock and bewilderment as she watched the young barista disappear through a door marked ‘Staff Only’. “What a prick!” she snarled, still shocked by the barista’s refusal to bring her latte over to her. Chloe bit down on her bottom lip, trying not to laugh as Paige turned and looked back at her. “You’d really say no to Ollie when you could be stuck with a dick like that instead?” Paige asked as a smile slowly broke across her face. “Did you see him? What a cockhead!” – spencer street – Matthew’s Residence 22 Spencer Street Lying naked and entangled in the sheets of Matt’s king size bed, Chelsea rested her head against her lovers bare chest as she snuggled her body in closer to Matthew’s. Lovingly running the tips or her recently manicured fingernails over Matt’s toned stomach, Chelsea softly kissed her beau’s chest. “What are you thinking?” she whispered quietly, her hand slowly sliding down towards Matt’s waist. “You don’t wanna know,” Matthew smiled with a devilish grin as he gently stroked Chelsea’s silky soft hair. Chelsea looked at Matthew as a wicked grin stretched across her face. It had been now five months since they got together and Chelsea had not one regret. Although the board of Somerset University frowned upon student/teacher relationships, being with Matthew felt so incredibly right and Chelsea had never been happier. He got her like no one else ever had and although there was an age difference of some sixteen years; Chelsea firmly believed she was actually falling in love with her lecturer. “I like you having this place to yourself now,” the smitten twenty-year-old said as she rested her head against Matt’s chest once again. “We don’t have to sneak around anymore. Well, I mean I still come in the back door, but it’s a different kind of sneaking around now.” “Yeah, about that,” Matt began with a deep inhale of breath. “I was thinking maybe its time you used the front door.” “What?” Chelsea frowned at Matthew as she sat up in bed, clutching the white bed sheet to her naked chest. “What do you mean?” “Well,” Matthew began with a tiresome groan as he sat up, resting his back against the headboard. “It’s been nearly six months, why do we still have to sneak around?” “Have you completely lost your mind?” Chelsea laughed dismissively, the thought of telling her father that she was having an affair with Matthew appearing somewhat comical to her. “Do you have any idea what my dad would do to you when he found out?” Matthew took Chelsea’s hand in his and, stroking the back of her palm with his thumb, looked into her eyes. “It’d be a shock, I know,” he admitted. “But if we could talk to April first, then maybe she could…” “No,” Chelsea quickly interrupted, shaking her hand as she pulled her hand free from Matthew’s and swung her legs over the edge of his bed, turning her back on him. “Absolutely not.” “Chels…” Matthew rested a hand on Chelsea’s shoulder. He knew that coming out with their relationship would be hard for Chelsea, but Matthew genuinely felt that it was time. April and Sean were in a good place and in the five months since he and Chelsea had been together, Matthew had managed to build a strong relationship with his sister’s boyfriend, who just also happened to be Chelsea’s father. Chelsea, with her back still turned on her partner, looked back over her shoulder at Matthew and sighed. She couldn’t tell Sean what had been going on. Chelsea knew her father better than anyone and the revelation that she was dating someone sixteen-years her senior, let alone her lecturer and April’s brother, would be too much for Sean to deal with. “I know she’s your sister and you think she’d be on our side, but trust me, now that she and my dad are…” Chelsea paused. She didn’t want to say the word but she had to. “Official,” the twenty-year-old beauty groaned, forcing herself to continue, “and she’s living with us, things are a bit more complicated. If April or dad so much as begin to suspect there’s something going on between us, we’ll both end up six feet under.” Matthew chewed at the inside of his cheek as he digested Chelsea’s dire warning of doom should they reveal their affair. Although he could see where Chelsea was coming from, Matt hated the secrecy of it all and felt that coming out and telling everyone they were together was best. “We can’t tell them,” Chelsea smiled softly as she turned her body back towards Matthew, before taking his hand in hers and lifting it to her lips as she tenderly kissing the back of Matt’s palm. “Not yet.” Matthew looked into Chelsea’s eyes and forced a smile. “Okay,” he sighed, immediately wondering if agreeing to keep their relationship a secret was a terrible mistake. “We won’t tell them, but surely you can leave through the front door?” Chelsea felt a wave of uncertainty wash over her. If anyone saw her, how would she explain what she was doing at Matt’s? “No one would even think twice about it,” Matthew continued with a warm smile. “I promise.” An uncertain smile slowly crossed Chelsea’s face. Although she’d do anything to make Matthew happy, Chelsea couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that her leaving in full view of Spencer Street was a mistake and it wouldn’t be long before someone caught them and began to put two and two together. – spencer street – The Hudson Residence 21 Spencer Street “Oh I say!” Gasped Dot Branning as she stumbled through the door of her living room to be greeted with the sight of Bradley and Stacey kissing on the settee. A soft smile settled across Georgia’s face as she sat curled up in a ball on the sofa, amused by the iconic catchcry of one of EastEnders’ legendry characters. In the twenty-odd years EastEnders had been screening, Georgia had rarely missed an episode. She’d witnessed Den’s first death, his surprise return from the grave and eventual second death. She’d watched character’s like Sonia, Bianca and Sharon grow up before her very eyes before moving out of Walford for pastures new. She’d seen Pat change her garish earrings more times that her underwear and had shared in the tragic death’s of some of her favourite’s including Pauline, Dennis and Ethel. While the foundations of her own life may have been beginning to crumble, Georgia knew she could always find stability and comfort in the four weekly episodes of her favourite soapie. Calvin appeared in the doorway of the living room, and looked in at his wife. He felt terrible about the things he’d said to Georgia earlier in the evening and he hadn’t meant a word. Calvin didn’t blame Georgia for Sarah’s departure, but he firmly believed that Georgia knew more than she was letting on. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier,” he sighed, cautiously entering the living room and making his way over to the sofa. Georgia’s attention remained firmly focused on the television as she watched Stacey shriek and squawk at Bradley with all the subtlety and class of a parrot. “I didn’t mean any of it, George,” Calvin said, taking a seat beside his wife on the sofa and loosely draping an arm around her shoulders. “I just…I know we should be helping Adam and supporting him, but I’m worried about Sarah.” Georgia looked at her husband in silence. She knew Calvin was worried about Sarah and she was too, but Georgia knew that Sarah was her own woman and nothing she or Calvin could say or do would bring Sarah back. Although loathed to admit it, Georgia knew there was a strong possibility they’d never see Sarah again. Calvin lowered his head as he let out a weary sigh. Although they had reported Sarah missing to the police shortly after her disappearance, Calvin knew that there was no chance of finding his daughter unless she wanted to be found. “I just want to know that she’s safe and not lying in a ditch somewhere.” “Of course she’s safe,” Georgia said with a soft, reassuring smile as she held Calvin’s hand. Georgia had seen the agony and uncertainty that Calvin had endured for the past five months and it broke her heart. “It’s Sarah,” Georgia continued, trying to reassure her husband that their daughter would be okay. “She’s strong enough to look after herself and when she’s good and ready, she’ll come home. I just know it.” Calvin slowly lifted his head and looked back at his wife before forcing a half smile. Although he knew Georgia was probably right about Sarah, Calvin couldn’t help but worry that something terrible had happened to his daughter or that she’d found herself trapped in a horrible situation she couldn’t get out of. “I am sorry about what I said.” “It doesn’t matter,” Georgia said softly, leaning in and gently kissing Calvin on the lips. “Water under the bridge.” Wrapping his arms around his wife in a warm and loving embrace, Calvin snuggled in to Georgia as the pair reclined on the sofa, their attention firmly re-focussed on EastEnders. “I was thinking about what you said about Adam working at The Austral.” “Oh?” Georgia asked with a raised brow as she listened to Calvin whilst watching the dying moments of EastEnders play out on the television. “Yeah,” Calvin nodded. “And I think it’s a good idea.” Surprised by Calvin’s announcement, Georgia sat up and looked back at her husband. Never in her life had Georgia thought that Calvin would let Adam work at The Austral. “Really?” she asked with a broad grin, needing reassurance that Calvin was 100% certain about his decision. “Yeah,” Calvin smiled back at Georgia with another nod of his head. “I’ll have to juggle some shifts around, but like you said, he needs our support and I guess everyone’s entitled to a second chance...even if it is against my better judgement.” “See,” Georgia beamed with delight, taking Calvin’s face in her hands before planting a tender kiss on his lips. “This is why I love you.” “Only for this reason?” “Well, there are a couple of other reasons,” Georgia purred in reply, her lustful eyes firmly locked on Calvin’s as she ignored the pounding drumbeats of the EastEnders theme tune in the background as the credits began to roll. “Such as?” As a wicked grin slowly slinked its way across Georgia’s face, she kissed Calvin once more. The couple’s lips fused together in a steam kiss as Georgia’s hands slowly travelled down Calvin’s neck and torso before beginning to unbutton his shirt. – – – – – – Upstairs, Adam stood at his bedroom window and looked out across Spencer Street. There was something different about Spencer Street at night, a haunting beauty that seemed to tug at the heartstrings and ignite a deep passion for the quiet suburban street. As Adam watched a young woman quickly cross the dimly lit street, his cellphone beeped, alerting him to the fact he’d just received a text message. Picking up his phone from his bedside table, Adam quickly opened the message. Owen Porter. 61 Tower Bridge Road. He’ll sort you out. Sarah xx Snapping his cellphone shut, Adam looked out the window once again as his stare narrowed. – spencer street – Hamish & Paige’s Residence 24 Spencer Street “Hamish?” Paige called out, flicking on the lights in the living room before closing the front door. There was no answer. The modern townhouse Paige shared with Hamish stood still and silent. “Babes?” Paige called out again with an anxious tone, praying that Hamish would answer. Again there was silence. Paige’s breathing quickly deepened as the stunning beauty began to realise she was home alone. Quickly spinning around, Paige bolted the front door before checking the windows in the living room were still locked and drawing the drapes. The eerie silence that filled number 24 seemed to close in around Paige as her heart began to thump harder and faster in her chest while a cold sweat broke out over her body. Alone for the first time since her violent mugging, Paige’s body began to tremble as she folded her arms tightly across her chest while chewing on one of her thumbnails. Standing still and silent in the middle of the living room, Paige was a quivering mess. She was terrified. Although her attacker had been caught and sentenced to three years imprisonment, Paige couldn’t help but fear that there was someone in the house. Someone creeping about in the darkness of the kitchen, watching her as they plotted their next move. Quickly taking her phone from her purse, Paige dialled Isabelle’s number and pressed the phone to her ear. “Hey babes,” Paige sighed with relief as she heard Isabelle’s voice on the other end of the line. “Its me. You wouldn’t be interested in a Sex and the City marathon by any chance, would you?” A relieved smile broke across Paige’s face as Isabelle, noticing the fear in Paige’s voice, agreed to an evening of mocktails and Sex and the City. “Okay great. Yeah I’ll see you then. Okay, bye.” Ending the call, Paige pressed her phone to her chest and bit down on her lip as her sheer terror of being left alone and fear of being attacked again slowly consumed her. – spencer street – Spencer Street Somerset Pulling into the driveway of number 25, April turned off the engine of her silver BWM convertible and got out of her car. She was completely exhausted. Having just finished a torturous double shift at the hospital, April was looking forward to settling in for a long, relaxing bath with a glass of wine before spending the night alone with Sean. – – – – – – Opening the front door of number 22, Chelsea stepped out into the cool night air before turning back and looking at Matthew. “’Night,” Matt winked with a mischievous grin, trying to keep things as normal and innocent as possible as Chelsea left through the front door for the first time in their brief affair. Feeling incredibly self-conscious as if the eyes of everyone in Spencer Street were on her, Chelsea smiled back at Matthew as she nervously played with her hair, checking to make sure it looked perfect. “Goodnight.” Turning away from Matthew, Chelsea started down the garden path before stopping dead in her tracks as her heart suddenly began to pound in her chest. – – – – – – Stood at the end of her driveway in silence, April locked eyes with Chelsea. Not a word was spoken as the two women stood on opposite sides of the street staring at eachother. Her lips tightly pursed together, April began to piece the puzzle together and was shocked by what she was beginning to realise. Chelsea looked back at April in a stunned silence as her eyes began to quickly fill with tears. She’d been caught and from the look in April’s eyes, Chelsea knew April had realised what was going on. – spencer street – Jack & Diana’s Residence 26 Spencer Street The foundations of number 26 seemed to shake and shudder as a commanding knock at the front door rumbled through the grand townhouse like thunder. “Coming,” Diana called out with an uncharacteristically nauseating sweetness to her voice as she walked out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a towel. Slinging the towel over her left shoulder, Diana’s eyes widened in surprise as she opened the front door. “Don’t get excited, I’m not here to see you,” Cabot snarled coldly before brushing past his estranged wife and storming into the living room. “You can’t just come barging into my house like this!” Diana growled in reply as she turned and looked at Cabot in stunned shock. “Cute,” Cabot smiled at Diana as he spun around and looked into her eyes. “You know, I never thought I’d live to see the day when you called a house in the suburbs ‘your home’. I guess karma’s a funny little thing, isn’t it?” Diana’s stare narrowed as her body seethed with rage. She was growing weary of the constant nasty taunts and jibes Cabot spat at her every time he saw her. He was still angry and hurt about not being Jack’s father, Diana got that, but she refused to let him treat her like something he’d just scraped of the bottom of his shoe. “Just get out, Cabot,” Diana hissed, still holding the front door open. “Is he home yet?” Cabot asked as he took a seat in one of two armchairs in the living room, completely ignoring Diana’s demand. Cabot refused to let Diana dictate what he could and couldn’t do. Since learning he wasn’t Jack’s biological father, Cabot had done nothing but make Diana’s life a living hell and as long as she continued to live in Somerset, Cabot was determined to keep up his cruel campaign. Diana slammed the front door shut, furious at Cabot’s stubbornness and arrogance. “Does it look like he’s home?” she snarled as she stormed into the living room. Cabot reclined in his chair and looked up at Diana as she stood over him. “You said his plane was due in at six.” “Well I guess it was delayed.” “You can’t keep him hidden away forever, Diana.” Diana groaned as she rolled her eyes. “He’s a grown man, Cabot,” she hissed through gritted teeth. The constant battles she’d faced with Cabot over the past five months were beginning to wear thin and Diana couldn’t wait to begin divorce proceedings. “Do you really think I’d be able to keep him ‘hidden away’, as you so crudely put it, against his will and for this long?” “I wouldn’t put it past you,” Cabot coolly replied with a bright grin more befitting a cheesy game show host. “Going backpacking through Europe was completely Jack’s idea and I resent the insinuation that I played any part in his leaving.” Cabot watched as Diana, infuriated at his intrusion, began to pace back and forth from one side of the living room to the other. “So the fact that he just up and left for Europe for five months not an hour after I threw you out is a complete coincidence?” “It appears so.” “You’re so full of shit, Diana.” Diana snapped around and glared at her estranged husband. “If you’ve come here to do nothing but hurl insults at me, Cabot then I suggest you leave. I believe you know where the front door is.” Cabot slowly rose from his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Sooner or later he’s going to come home, Diana,” Cabot warned, his stare narrowing slightly as he looked into Diana’s eyes. “And when he does, the first thing I’m going to do is tell him the truth.” Diana felt a fierce fury burn deep inside her. Never in her life had she expected things between Cabot would turn so sour so quickly. “Well seeing as you’re going to be in Paris for the next month ‘on business’, I think that’s going to be a little hard, don’t you?” Cabot let out a taunting snigger. “You wouldn’t happen to be jealous by any chance would you Diana?” he teased, slowly starting across the living room towards Diana. “I mean, you’re hardly living the lifestyle to which you’ve grown accustom, are you?” “Jealous?” Diana smirked. “Of some cheap Parisian whore who has to suffer the indignity of having you flop about on top of her like a beached whale? Hardly.” Cabot stopped and glared at Diana. “I’m not stupid, Cabot,” Diana continued through pursed lips as she watched Cabot’s puffed out chest quickly begin to deflate. “I knew what your frequent ‘business trips’ to Paris were really all about. So don’t you dare stand there and condemn me for keeping secrets when for the past twenty years you’ve been doing the exact same thing.” “They’re hardly the same thing,” Cabot scoffed with a roll of his eyes as he turned his back on Diana and walked across the room to the large bay window. “They’re exactly the same thing!” Diana shrieked as she watched Cabot peel back the drapes and cast a discerning eye over Spencer Street. “You kicking it up with the cheap whores of Moulin Rouge and not telling me is exactly the same as me not telling you about what happened with Dante.” “But I didn’t have a kid with any of them and lie about the paternity for the next thirty-odd-years, did I?!” Cabot snarled in reply, shooting a deathly stare at Diana over his shoulder. “Well we don’t know, do we? I mean; there could be a million little French Cabot’s running the streets of Paris with that nauseatingly obnoxious grin of yours. God help us.” Cabot turned and looked back at Diana, releasing his grip on the drapes as they flapped closed. “Is there a number I can reach him on?” he asked with a wry glare as his body burned with fury. “No,” Diana replied quickly with a shake of her head. She wasn’t lying. She’d only heard from Jack twice in five months and both times he’d called from a telephone booth. And even if she did have Jack’s number, there was not a hope in hell of her giving it to Cabot. “Well then I guess I’ll just have to go to Italy and try and track him down.” “Track him down?” Diana scoffed at Cabot’s insane suggestion. “In Italy? You should be careful, Cabot,” Diana continued, turning the tables and taunting her husband. “People start to develop dementia at your age and that little suggestion of yours sounds like the deluded ramblings of a man coming down with that terrible disease.” “Why do you have to be such a malicious bitch about all of this?” Cabot roared as he stormed across the room back toward Diana. “All I want is for Jack to know the truth and yet you’re so determined to stop that from happening. Don’t you want him to be happy?” “He is happy.” “I mean truly happy.” “He is truly happy,” Diana hissed as she stared into Cabot’s eyes, their faces but a few inches apart. “He thinks you’re his father. That’s all he’s ever known and that makes him happy, Cabot. Why can’t you see that I’m not doing this to hurt him?” Diana asked sincerely. She didn’t understand why Cabot was so adamant about telling Jack the truth. While she could see that Jack had a right to know who he really was, Diana was determined to keep the truth from her son. As far as he knew Cabot was his father and Diana didn’t see any reason why that had to change. “I’m doing this to protect him. To make sure he stays truly happy. Finding out about you and Dante would completely destroy him, Cabot and I know you love him too much to see him go through that.” Cabot paused. While he still loved Jack more than anything in the world, the knowledge that he wasn’t his biological son ate away at him. It consumed him. “He needs to know, Diana,” Cabot seethed, frustrated at Diana’s stubbornness and unwillingness to relent and tell Jack about his real paternity. “Of course it would crush him but he needs to know who he is.” “He already knows who he is,” Diana said as she reached out and ran a hand down Cabot’s cheek. “He’s your son.” Cabot shuddered at Diana’s touch. “No he’s not,” he snarled, quickly brushing Diana’s hand away. “Yes, he is!” Diana insisted, her eyes slowly filling with tears as she struggled to make Cabot see her point of view. “You’re the one who taught him to ride his first bike, you’re the one who took him to his school football games, you’re the one who has raised him and loved him his entire life.” Diana paused as a tear rolled down her cheek. She didn’t want things to change. She wanted Isabelle and Cabot to keep this secret to themselves and for them all to go back to playing happy families. “You’re his father, Cabot,” Diana insisted, desperate to prove her point to Cabot. “Not Dante.” Watching Diana wipe a tear from her eye, Cabot couldn’t help but feel for his estranged wife. Although he hated her for lying and couldn’t wait to sever ties with Diana for good, Cabot could see how truly sorry she was and a part of him actually sympathised with her. “That may be,” Cabot began, “but he still has a right to know, Diana. Why can’t you see that?” “Because he’ll hate me, Cabot!” Diana sobbed softly, wiping another tear from her eye. Diana had seen the way both Isabelle and Cabot had reacted to the news that Jack wasn’t Cabot’s son and she couldn’t bear to see Jack’s reaction. Diana knew it was going to be heartbreaking and that once he knew the truth, Jack would never speak to her, let alone want to see her, again. “He’ll hate me and I couldn’t bear to see the look of pure hate in his eyes that I see when I look at you or Isabelle. When I look at you two that’s all I can see, that soul-piercing look of pure hate and it terrifies me to think that he could look at me the same way. I made a terrible mistake. I get that,” Diana urged, holding a hand to her chest. “I understand that, I do, but he’s my son, Cabot and I will not stand by and watch you or Isabelle destroy his life!” “He’s going to find out, Diana,” Cabot said shaking his head, refusing to let Diana persuade him into staying quiet. “Jack’s going to find out whether you like it or not.” The front door clicked shut. “I’m going to find out what?” Jack smiled at his parents as he appeared in the archway of the living room, sitting his large suitcase down by his side. Diana and Cabot both looked at Jack in a stunned silence. “Well?” Jack asked, still grinning at his parents as his eyes darted between Diana and Cabot. “Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” – spencer street – The Lawson Residence 19 Spencer Street “Come on, Nick!” Hazel yelled up the staircase as she tried to hurry her hopeless son along. Hazel slid the sleeve of her black silk jacket up and glanced at her white gold Swatch watch. 7.21. “I’m coming!” Came Nick’s muffled reply from his bedroom. Hazel tutted and rolled her eyes as she looked over at Laura. “Probably too busy looking at himself in the mirror,” the caring mother joked as she tried to calculate how long it would take them to get to the restaurant. “I heard that!” Nick said, less than impressed as he came jogging down the stairs. “And yet you haven’t denied it,” Laura teased with a broad grin as she watched her brother-in-law speed past her into the living room and snatch his black coat from the sofa. “Do you want me to turn the radio off?” Nick asked, ignoring Laura’s last comment as he slipped his thick coat on over his shoulders. “No, leave it on,” Hazel replied, picking up her car keys as Laura opened the front door and stepped outside. “I want it to sound like someone’s home.” Re-entering the foyer, Nick looked at Hazel with a cocked eyebrow. “Mum, its talkback…it would sound like someone’s having a conversation with themselves.” “Just come on,” Hazel groaned, pushing Nick outside. “We’ve got to go!” The front door to the Lawson home slammed shut before Hazel, Laura and Nick piled into Hazel’s silver coloured Audi sedan. As the trio pulled out of the drive and sped off down the street, the dull and at times inane chatter of Capital Radio, Somerset’s number one talkback station, filled the Lawson’s dark home. “Good evening, Jacinta Meadows with a Capital Radio news flash,” a polite woman began as she interrupted the current chat show. “Reports are coming in that two Northumberland soldiers are dead and a further four are seriously injured following a roadside bombing attack in Afghanistan…” – spencer street – The Goodwin Residence 23 Spencer Street Closing the front door of number 23, Grace held a hand over her mouth as she let out a yawn. Although it was only 7.25pm she was exhausted. The past few months had really taken it out of her and now she was looking forward to having a relaxing bath before going to bed. Removing her coat before hanging it on the coat rack fixed to the wall beside the front door, Grace let out a weary sigh as she walked into the living room and switched on the lights. The living room was flooded with a bright white light and Grace suddenly gasped in shock as she clutched a hand to her chest. “Hello, grandma,” Nicole smiled at Grace as she sat cross-legged in an armchair, strumming her French tipped nails against the soft fabric of the arm. Grace stood in silence, staring back at her granddaughter as she struggled to process the realisation that Nicole had come home. – spencer street – Brock & Isabelle’s Residence 20 Spencer Street Collecting her purse from the kitchen countertop, a radiant Isabelle checked her appearance one last time in the reflection of the oven door. Holding a hand over her now evident baby bump, Isabelle smiled as she felt her unborn child kick. Although she still had a few months to go until she gave birth, Isabelle couldn’t wait to hold her precious baby in her arms. The nursery was already decked out in the latest baby must haves. The wardrobe was already brimming with designer labels and Isabelle had already picked out the name for her precious bundle – Caleb Arthur Cooper. Walking out of the kitchen and down the hallway, Isabelle grasped the golden doorhandle and opened the front door. Suddenly she stopped as her mouth dropped open in shock. “Honey, I’m home,” Holden smiled at his ex-wife as he stood on her doorstep. – spencer street – Somerset Memorial Gardens Somerset “You took your time,” Oliver beamed at Chloe, brushing his hands against his jeans as he rose from the red tartan blanket he’d laid out on the banks of the picturesque Autumn Lake in the middle of the Somerset Memorial Gardens. “I believe it’s called fashionably late,” Chloe smiled sweetly in reply as she greeted Oliver with a tender kiss on the lips. “Doesn’t matter,” Oliver began as he looked into Chloe’s eyes, their noses softly touching as he stroked her newly darkened locks. “Its still late.” Chloe kissed Oliver once again. “Well I’m here now.” Looking over Oliver’s shoulder, Chloe’s eyes widened in amazement. “Oh my God, this is beautiful,” she gasped in wonder. The red tartan blanket, adorned with a three-course meal and bouquet of red roses sat surrounded by what seemed like a million tiny flickering tea light candles. A string of twinkling lights took up residence nestled amongst the leaves of a giant weeping willow as an inconspicuously hidden CD player filled the air with Chloe’s favourite song, the Girls Aloud remake of I’ll Stand By You. “Well, I thought I’d better go to a bit of effort seeing as it is a special night and all,” Oliver beamed as he curled an arm around Chloe’s waist whilst admiring his handiwork. With a tear in her eye, Chloe turned her head and looked at Oliver. “Why is it a special night?” Oliver looked at Chloe and flashed her a broad grin as the chorus of I’ll Stand By You swelled in the background. I’ll stand by you I’ll stand by you Won’t let nobody hurt you I’ll stand by you Take me in until your darkest hour And I’ll never desert you I’ll stand by you “Champagne?” Oliver offered as he leant down and collected two already filled flutes of champagne before Chloe had even responded. “Please,” Chloe smiled, still overcome by the incredibly romantic gesture Oliver had obviously spent weeks planning. “Thank you,” she replied, accepting a flute of champagne from Oliver. As she lifted the flute to her lips, Chloe stopped as something twinkling in the bottom of her glass caught her eye. Holding her flute of champagne up in front of her face, Chloe’s eyes slowly widened as she noticed a diamond set white gold engagement ring in the bottom of her glass. Stunned, Chloe looked back at Oliver. “Marry me, Chloe,” Oliver smiled at his beautiful girlfriend, confident he already knew what her answer would be. Chloe looked back at Oliver in stunned silence. |