“I don’t know why we bother.”

“We bother because we want Harrison to grow up with both his parents.”

“Oh that’s just laughable coming from you. I mean we’re here because of you, Douglas, you realise that?”

“Listen Thalia, it takes two to make a relationship work, you know.”

“Three if you count your secretary.”

“Mr Proops,” Chantal the receptionist smiled, her brown eyes twinkling under the fluoro lights. “You can go in now.”

“Thank Christ for that,” Greg breathed, giving the warring couple one last look before he strode across the foyer and into his therapist’s room. Hugo was already perched on a large Indian rug in the lotus position.

“Gregory,” Hugo said as he took in a deep breath. “So good to see you.”

“It’s a thrill, believe me,” Greg huffed as he uncomfortably sat himself cross-legged across from Hugo. “I see you’re still into the no furniture thing.”

“Furniture restricts the soul, Gregory,” Hugo replied, breathing out.

“But it cushions the ass,” Greg countered and Hugo shook his head.

“Always with the vulgarity.”

“It’s what I get paid for, dude.”

“Where is Jennifer?” Hugo asked calmly but determined to change the subject.

“Well, she’s kinda not talking to me.”

“Could you tell me why?”

“Because I disappeared without telling her where I was going.”

“And why did you do that Gregory?”

“Because a nasty woman drugged me and took me to Australia.”

Hugo tilted his head to the side. “Gregory, why must you always concoct these stories. If you want to save your marriage and open up the communication channels between you and Jennifer, the least you can do is be honest.”

“But I was being honest,” Greg frowned. “She tried to kill me and my friends.”

“I assume Gina, Fenella and Ritza were there.”

“Of course, Gina saved me,” Greg nodded. “I even got to share a bed with her and Danny.”

“Danny?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you telling me not only are you sleeping with three separate woman you’ve also taken to sharing yourself with men?”

“What? NO!” Greg gasped. “We got kidnapped and…”

“ENOUGH!” Hugo snapped, startling Greg who’d never heard him raise his voice before. “I want you to go sit in the purple corner and think about what you are doing to yourself, your family and the people you love.

“Fine,” Greg huffed, scooting across the floor until he reached the purple corner. “Stupid purple corner.”

“No talking, Gregory,” Hugo scorned. “Quiet reflection.”

Gina, wrapped in a long cardigan to fight to cool morning air, opened her front door and was surprised to see Danny standing there. “Daniel, you should know by now that it’s far too early for me to do just about anything.”

“I know,” Danny nodded. “Actually, I probably know a lot more about you than you think.”

“Oh really?” Gina mused, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe.

“I know you’re paranoid about your hair, you hate for it to be untidy, you lost your virginity to a guy named Steve whose arse was oddly smooth. You wish you could wear your pyjamas all the time, and you have a secret fantasy of doing it on a fur rug in front of a roaring log fire.”

“Wow, I talk way too much.”

“I like listening to you talk.”

“Why are you here, Brannigan?” Gina smiled. “Shouldn’t you all be in therapy like the rest of us.”

“Well, in some way I am,” Danny nodded. “I wanted to return the keys to your apartment. I’ve put all my stuff in storage and I’ve decided that I’m going to go away for a bit.”

“Go away where?” Gina gasped, surprised anyone would want to venture out this quickly after having a gun rammed down their throat.

“I’m not sure yet,” he shrugged. “Africa maybe, visit Dad in Majorca even.”

“Why would you do that, huh? Who’s going to read the sport now?”

“I neither know nor care, I just…” he paused. “I’ve got to get away.”

“I know what happened was traumatising, but don’t you think it’s a bit soon to do anything.”

“God, Coleman,” he sighed. “I’ll need counselling for years to even remotely come to terms with that, but it’s not why I’m leaving.”

“Oh?” she frowned. “You haven’t done something bad, have you?”

He nodded. “I’m crazy in love with a totally unavailable married woman.”

“Oh my god? Who? I want details!” Gina gasped and caught the look in Danny’s eyes, and then she understood completely. “Oh.”

He swallowed uncomfortably. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Coleman, and I can’t move on with my life if I’m living in your house, working to be near you, and pretending that being friends is ok.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” she managed to say, breathless.

“I was going to, and then you met Paul and I had no chance, no chance at all,” he sighed and hung his head.

“Dan, you had all the chance in the world,” she gasped. “Hell, if you’d taken your chance…” she cut herself off. “I’m sorry.”

“What have you got to be sorry for?” he asked. “You’re happy, and don’t tell me you’re not.”

“I’m not now, I feel bloody awful,” she breathed. “Although this kinda explains why all your relationships failed.”

“I couldn’t love any of those women, and yes, that includes Fen,” Danny sighed. He looked at his watch and then back at Gina. “I should go, I’ve got a plane to catch.”

She brushed the tears that were pricking at her eyes away with the sleeve of her cardigan. “Don’t forget me,” she pouted and wrapped him up in a hug.

“Please, you’re an unforgettable woman,” he breathed, hugging her back. “It feels good to finally get it off my chest, keeping secrets is too hard.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, pulling away a little, her hands holding the lapels of his denim jacket tightly “Dan.”

“Gina,” he replied with a hint of sadness.

“Just so I know you won’t forget me,” she smiled and pressed her lips against his. He hesitated a moment before kissing her back briefly.

“Damn,” he whispered as they pulled apart. “I’m scared of never feeling my whole life, the way I feel when I’m with you.”

She gave a small laugh. “I’ve made you watch Dirty Dancing that many times huh?”

“Who said I was quoting Dirty Dancing?” Danny shrugged as he headed off down the path. Gina watched him step into the street and head off down the footpath. A mix of feelings coursing through her veins, she sunk to the verandah steps and let it all sink in.

“No more secrets,” she breathed.

“I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own bag,” Ritza scorned as Beven refused to hand over the small bag containing some essentials her mother had brought to the hospital.

“I’m just being a gentleman,” Beven countered and waited as Ritza unlocked the door.

“I apologise for the mess, but what with kidnappings and beatings, I’ve not had a chance to clean,” she chided as she led the way through her small unit and into the kitchen.

“It’s nice,” he smiled. “Cosy.”

“Tiny and cheap,” she mused as she opened the fridge. “God, I’m going to have to get some food in before I pick Gus up from Mum’s.

“The lad’ll be glad to have his ma back,” he agreed, standing uncomfortably. “Anyway, I should probably go and leave you to it.”

“Excuse me?” Ritza gasped, slamming the fridge door closed. “After everything, you’re just gonna leave?”

“Well, I ah, don’t think there’s much else I can do,” Beven shrugged. “I’m pretty much only useful when it comes to crime and the saving of your friends.”

“Oh really?”

“And I’ve got a knack for fixing burst upholstery.”

“Right,” she mused. “That’s…interesting.”

Beven averted his attention to a selection of breakfast cereals for a moment before looking back at Ritza. “You make me so nervous.”

“Me?” Ritza gasped. “Why would I make you nervous?” she added, crossing her arms and cocking her head to the side.

“I really should go…” he swallowed and started backing toward the door.

“Oh no, you’re not getting away from me again,” she chided as she caught hold of him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck and they both hungrily sought out each other’s lips. They kissed fervently in that position for a few moments, Beven’s hands eagerly finding their way to Ritza’s rear.

“Which way’s the bedroom?” he panted.

“End of the hall on the right,” she replied, not budging an inch as Beven heroically strode down the hall, kicked open the bedroom door and dropped her onto the bed. He stood back, tore off his shirt and stood there panting. “Come here, Duggan,” Ritza purred as she sat up, tore off her own shirt and then pulled him down on top of her.

Brad hummed all the way in the elevator, down the hall and as he unlocked the door of Fenny’s apartment. He strode into the living room and glanced about. “Fen,” he called and bounded from room to room looking for her. He was surprised to discover that she didn’t appear to be home. “Odd,” he remarked to Jag who was curled up on the bed. “Where’s your Mommy huh?” he sighed, sitting down to stroke the cat. He noticed Jag had been chewing on a piece of paper, which he took the liberty to pull from beneath the moggy’s furry black body and was surprised to see it was a letter.

Brad lay back on the bed as he finished reading the last couple of words. He held the letter in one hand and stared at the ceiling, trying to comprehend what Fenny was doing, and trying to ignore the lump that’d formed in his throat. It didn’t matter how much he tried, a large, warm salty tear soon broke free and glided down his face and onto the quilt. “Alone again,” he breathed as his phone rang. He grabbed it rather nervously in case it was Fenny. He was disappointed to see it read ‘Bess’ and lobbed it angrily across the room. With pain turned to anger, Brad leapt off the bed, startling Jag who raced off. He tore all the bedclothes from the bed and threw them onto the floor. Not satisfied he swiped everything off the dresser and knocked over a chair. Out of breath, Brad surveyed the damage and sunk to his knees.

“Daddy!” a small voice gasped and Brad looked up to see Lilly at the door.

“Everything ok?” Jenna asked, appearing behind her. “Her step-father just kinda dumped her out there.”

“Everything is fine,” Brad swallowed, his cheeks burning with embarrassment that he’d been caught.

“Ah, why don’t you go and turn the TV on and I’ll help your Daddy clean up,” Jenna announced quickly and guided Lilly back out of the room.

“Thanks,” Brad managed to say quietly.

“No problem,” Jenna breathed, crouching down. “She’ll be back.”

“I know, Lilly has a short attention span,” Brad mumbled.

“I wasn’t talking about…”

“I know,” Brad said curtly. “I know,” he added, softer.

Fenny sat slumped in the airport lounge, her hand luggage at her feet. Her flight to London wasn’t yet ready for boarding, and while she was trying to convince herself that jumping on a flight to somewhere she’d been nearly killed was the reason for her nerves, she knew it was really just the guilt over abandoning Brad yet again.

It seemed odd that despite the fact she had everything she wanted, Fenny felt the pull to travel. She knew for a change it wasn’t means of escape from problems, she just couldn’t settle and play happy families, not yet. Oh, she wanted to but there’s something about realising your own mortality that makes you want to go out and do stupid things. The fact she’d cheated death recently made bungie-jumping look like fun.

A voice piped up over the loudspeaker to announce that her flight to London was ready for boarding. Fenny leaned forward and hunted out her boarding pass before she got to her feet and approached the queue of others taking the same flight. She was stuck between two groups of obnoxious tourists before finally having her pass checked and being allowed on the plane.

Fenny found her seat and pulled open the overhead locker, she found herself looking in case there happened to be a mongoose in there. The idea of Troy stowing away made her laugh out loud.

“I’ve never thought of overhead lockers as funny myself,” a voice announced and Fenny turned to see a familiar face.

“Eric,” she mused. “Are you stalking me?”

“No, I’d have to arrest myself then,” he chided. “I’ve got to talk to a few people in London.”

“You mean someone is still alive to talk to?” Fenny queried as they took their seats.

“Yes but he doesn’t have kneecaps anymore.”

“Oh.”

“So, why are you here?”

“Self exploration.”

“How does your husband feel about that?”

“Don’t know, I left him a note.”

“Oh, brave move.”

“I’ve never been renowned for having a spine you know.”

Eric chuckled. “So what was funny in the locker.”

“I was thinking of Troy,” Fenny shrugged.

“The mongoose?”

“Uh huh.”

“You realise you are at the top of the strangest people I have ever met list?” Eric mused. “And I’m a detective.”

“You know, you’re right,” Fenny agreed as she flipped open her sketch pad, the only thing she’d kept out of her bag along with a charcoal pencil. “Don’t suppose I could draw your portrait?”

“Why?”

“It’s a long flight.”

“You’re insane.”

“That’s not answering the question Eric.”

Eric laughed. “Fine, but I want more tales of your escapades.”

“Ok,” Fenny mused as she began. “Once, Paul and I got locked in a bank vault that had been used to store corpses…”

“Who was that?” Paul asked as Gina re-entered the bedroom. “You haven’t bonded with the postman have you?”

“It was just Dan,” Gina shrugged as she wandered over to the dresser and grabbed her hairbrush.

“Oh yeah, what’d he want?” Paul said through a yawn as he stretched beneath the covers.

“Nothing important, he’s just going away for a bit,” Gina shrugged. “He’s not as used to having his life threatened as we are.”

“The poor lad,” Paul chided as he watched his wife brush her hair. “I’m so glad to be home, back in my own bed and with you.”

“Me too,” Gina smiled putting the brush down. “You’ll be glad to get back to work for a rest.”

“I know,” Paul mused. “Who’d have thought working would actually be pleasurable.”

“Stranger things have happened,” Gina agreed.

“I know, and we can vouch for it,” Paul sighed. “You know what the weirdest thing is though? We never did find out who was pregnant.”

“What?”

“That test, the one I freaked out about,” Paul explained. “Because you’re not pregnant and neither is Fen. It’s a bit of a mystery really.”

“Not really,” Gina shrugged.

“What do you mean?” Paul asked stretching again.

“Because I was pregnant,” Gina declared as she headed out of the room. She stopped at the door and turned back. “The test was mine.”

“Oh,” Paul said blankly as she left, he lay there a second and then sat bolt upright. “WHAT?”

At Fairlea Women’s Prison, a prison guard escorted a young woman toward the entrance/exit gate. She punched in a security code and the gate buzzed and then opened.

“Now remember you have to…”

“Report to my local police station once a fortnight, I know.”

“I hope to never see you back here.”

“I hope to never be back here.”

“Good luck,” the guard breathed and closed the door again.

Rona Crispin glanced around at the unfamiliar external surroundings and smiled, her smile turned into a giggle and soon she was laughing hysterically. “Oh it’s so nice to be back,” she announced and started off in the direction of a phone booth. “Just fucking glorious.”