Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

'And as you can see, someone with such a fragile little body, whose mind is becoming more fuzzy with each passing day, whose hearing is little more than a faint buzzing, whose eyes…'

'Er- do you mind if I stop you there, Mister Boswell?' Martina felt this was as good a time as any to cut Joey off, or his long, overdramatic reel of his Grandad's ailments would soon start trailing right to the floor. 'Only if you keep going, you'll cause my tear ducts to burst and the whole building will flood.'

Joey grinned, flashing a smart set of white teeth at her. 'I can dry them off, if you wish…' he made a move as if to brush a tear from her cheek, and she pursed her lips.

'Did this list of sob-stories about yer grandad have a point?' she interrupted, fixing him with her trademark stern glare and trying to stop herself fuming at him. 'Or did you just come in here to waste my morning?'

'Well, from my description of his ailments, surely you realise that an old man with such a frail little life clearly needs all the help he can get…'

'He's already got more than all the help he can get, Mister Boswell,' Martina said, not allowing her resolve to be broken by his pathetic excuses, 'you all have. Your family claim to be struggling through life,' she made a pained expression as she said this, 'and yet you have enough to provide for ten large families, while the rest of us all try to scrape by on whatever we can.'

She raised her eyebrows. 'We don't all have guardian angels looking after us, making sure all the good fortune that rains down from the sky lands in our laps…the rest of us have to manage without.'

She managed successfully to make Mister Boswell pause, if nothing else. He sat back in his chair, mulling his options over- but Martina had known him for too long to be deceived into thinking he'd back down now. When he was silent for a considerable number of minutes, it was only because he was busy conjuring up a new plan of action- or worse, a new tease.

'Why, sweetheart,' Joey said, grinning at her in that wicked way that always, always meant he had some poetic speech or punishingly witty remark in mind, 'but you're my guardian angel!'

Martina rolled her eyes. Another winner. 'And what would give you that impression, Mister Boswell? I'm out to get you, you know. One tiny slip-up in one of your otherwise cunningly-crafted plans and I'll have you right where I want you, Mister Boswell. Now where would you get the idea that I was watching over you?'

Joey paused, though whether he was actually pondering or if it was just for dramatic effect the DHSS lady wasn't sure. 'Well, you give me money…hmm, maybe that makes you my Money Angel…'

Martina couldn't believe her ears. 'Money…Angel? You're not serious…'

But Mister Boswell was too busy humming some angel song to himself to hear her comment.

'Would you mind moving on now, Mister Boswell? It's nearly five o'clock and we're due to close…'

Joey finished his signature with a boastful flourish and handed back the form, a devious glint in his blue-green eyes.

'Ah, well then. Until next time, Angel. Until next time.' He reached his hand up to his face, pressing his fingers to his lips and blowing a kiss towards her. Martina let her eyes roll back in their sockets for the second time that afternoon, sighing in frustration and shaking her head. Joey Boswell was just…so…irritating. Time and time again he strode into the DHSS, his very stride boastful, his very demeanour arrogant. He just exuded every quality that sent Martina's nerves into overdrive.

And that was before he'd even opened his mouth.

He seemed to know every big fancy word, every crafty little phrase, every tone of voice that drove her mad, and somehow, while harassing the state and making her job a misery, he'd always manage to turn it into a joke. He'd make fake proposals of marriage, call her all sorts of pet names in mocking tones- and now, it seemed, she'd have to be adding 'money angel' to that list. She gave him a narrow-eyed glare as he leapt to his feet, still in an annoyingly cheerful mood and putting her in an even bleaker one.

But as soon as he was out of sight, her mouth automatically turned up into a smirk. She couldn't help it- her face had some sort of perverse sense of humour- it forced itself to contort without her consent. Whenever she argued with him she had to hold it back, and she hated herself, sometimes, for not having more self-restraint- especially around someone she hated so much. She shook her head and went back to her work, trying to block him out of her thoughts.

'I told you, Mister Wilson, there's nothing I can do!' Martina couldn't help raising her voice- there was just no other way to talk down some of the more aggressive clients. This bloke's visit had been non-stop violent threats- he'd opened the show with a 'right you, gimme my money or I'll mug you' and had then gone on to argue, in a very loud voice, about the fact that one of his allowances had been cut off, and followed it up with a 'you wouldn't have a job if it weren't for the likes of me!'

It took all of Martina's strength of mind to stay firm, to not cower away from him, but she managed as always. They all lost their tempers ever so often- some more than others- and she always dealt with them, always fended them off. But Mr. Wilson was a class unto himself- it seemed every time he set foot through the door he was already bellowing, red in the face. He'd made death threats more than once- to her and to anybody else who happened to be in range, including a terrified-out-of-his-wits Adrian Boswell- and although she ignored these, keeping her stony and somewhat bored expression upheld at all times, it was hard not to miss the sheer size of the man. That, coupled with his temperament, made him more than a little frightening.

'You're not making any friends round 'ere, you know, little DHSS lady!'

Martina forced a roll of her eyes. 'I'm not here to make friends, Mister Wilson. I'm here to do my job-'

'And your job is to give me my money!'

'I've given you your money,' Martina said calmly, 'it's not my fault your second allowance was stopped.'

'You wanna watch it, little child of joy,' he snarled, 'you think you're all high and mighty, all safe there in yer little glass lie-detector box,' he gestured roughly to the half-wall and desk that framed the DHSS clerks, 'but if you was ever out in the real world, you'd wanna watch yourself! If you should ever be walkin' down a dark alley at night…' He was leaning right over the desk now, teeth bared and shoulders tensed as if he wanted to strike her. Martina didn't bat an eyelid. He couldn't keep this up forever, surely at some point he would have to admit defeat and go away…

'Greetings!'

Oh, no. Two different shades of terrible clients in one day- both ends of the spectrum come to ruin her life at once- the terrifyingly aggressive Mister Wilson, shouting and threatening to get his way, and the devious, blithe Joey Boswell, with his seamless lies, who grinned his way through his visits and always came out with half the world's money. It just wasn't fair.

Mister Wilson turned round at the sound of the voice, giving Joey a glower that Martina envied for just a moment.

'What do you want?'

Joey's grin didn't even flicker. 'Are you quite finished? Only I've got a lot to do today and I would rather like a word with this lovely lady before the DHSS closes…'

Mister Wilson gave Joey a strange look, glanced towards Martina and back to Joey again. 'She thinks she owns the bloody universe, this one,' he turned back to the counter, his voice instantly climbing in volume as he addressed the DHSS lady, 'you bloomin' well think you're God almighty, don't yer! Well you just watch it, little DHSS lady! I'll be back!' he stormed toward the door, letting the chair tip over and clatter to the floor.

Martina shut her eyes and sighed, allowing herself a few moments to regain her composure. When she opened them again the chair had been righted, and Joey Boswell was occupying it.

'Fear not, my Angel,' he said, reaching out to touch her arm, 'he's gone now.'

The DHSS lady didn't bother to stifle her next sigh. It seemed Joey was not in a hurry to forget the 'Money Angel' gimmick of his last visit. She wondered how long it would take before that joke got stale- knowing Joey Boswell, and his tendency to carry on and on about things, probably never.

'It's not yer Grandad again, is it? Come down with new ailments since yesterday, 'as he?'

'No, it's not our Grandad, Angel,' Joey smiled wolfishly, 'it's our Mongy.'

Oh. The only thing worse than a claim about the Boswell paterfamilias was a claim about the Boswell 'guard dog'.

'Which- as you remember- is a necessary attachment in these times, owing to the fact-'

'-that society has produced an unsafe atmosphere in which to live?' Martina asked, a sardonic smile on her face, 'rendering the human race in need of alternative protection?'

She'd learned the dramatic speech off by heart, hand gestures and all, but this, for some reason, didn't indicate to him how ridiculous it all was, but rather encouraged him all the more. No matter how many times she mimicked it, his face always lit up at the thought that she had remembered something he'd said.

'Precisely!' he lightly slapped his hand on the desk, his grin actually in danger of reaching his ears now. 'Dear little Money Angel, always so attentive…'

She couldn't stand it. The ridiculous fake flattery was killing her. It was times like these, when Joey Boswell teased her relentlessly and smiled his way through pointless transactions, that usually resulted in her giving in and slamming a form down on the table, not during all those fits of fury from the likes of Mr. Wilson. She could handle the stock-standard boorish idiots. She hadn't yet quite worked out how to tackle Joey's unique brand of cunning.

Not that that wouldn't stop her trying to catch him out. He might win the little battles, get his forms now, but one day she would crack just how he was cheating the state, and then she'd win the war.

'Go on, Mister Boswell,' she said, resting her chin on her hand as if she was really listening, and letting her mind start conjuring up the ways in which she would bring him down in the end.

All in all, it hadn't been a particularly good week. The staff had all had pay cuts and their coffee breaks shortened, she'd had nine Boswell visits from four separate Boswells, and now she'd had to stay incredibly late to finish off a thick stack of paperwork. It was six by the time Martina left, and already dark, and a slight sprinkling of rain was pattering down on her. Pulling the collar of her mac up around her neck, she started off into the street.

The streetlights around her sputtered and dimmed as she passed. The facilities in Liverpool had never been the best- something always seemed to be shorting out these days, but at this time of day, when the streets looked unsafe and unforgiving, shadows lurching out all over the place, the situation seemed about ten times worse. Martina kept her stride brisk. The sooner she got home the better- Liverpool wasn't exactly the safest place to be out at night in either. During the day people would go about stealing the wheels off your car, snatching your purse and making off with it. It didn't bear thinking about what would happen when nobody could see.

Martina kept her head down as she rounded a corner. She kept pushing forward- there were another eight or nine blocks before she got home, and she wanted to get through them as quickly as possible. Another few steps, however, and she found herself colliding with another person.

'Watch it!'

'Oh,' she muttered, sidestepping the man. 'Sorry.'

'Well, wouldja look who it is!' The bloke grabbed hold of her arm and Martina's heart did a funny jump. She recognised that voice. 'It's our little child of joy from the DHSS!'

There were snickers from somewhere in the vicinity and it dawned on Martina that Mister Wilson was not alone.

'Not behind yer desk now, are ya?' His voice was slightly slurred- he was probably drunk. 'Not so tough now, eh?'

'You can't threaten me, Mister Wilson,' she replied, although her voice was shaking. Martina shook him off and made to continue on her way, but another man stepped in front of her.

'Where'd you think you're going?'

'Yeah. You've made our lives hell in that Social Security office, and it's about time we repaid you fer that…'

If they had been in the DHSS she would have stood her ground. If they were in the DHSS she wouldn't have worried. She would have known there was nothing they could do to her.

But they weren't in the DHSS. They were down a darkened street, and they were in their element. They were out of sight, and no-one would see if they took out their aggression out on her.

It wasn't typical of her, but it might be the only thing to do in this situation. She turned and tried to run.

'Don't you run off on us!' she could hear from behind her. Martina picked up the pace, her heels making it difficult to steady herself on the wet concrete as she ran. She didn't know where she was going now, where she was, even, just that the most important thing at this moment was to put as much distance between herself and the others as possible and go from there. Not that that was proving an easy feat in itself- they were proving impossible to shake off…

And then, about five feet in front of her, one of the cars standing at the side of the road flashed its headlights once, twice. Only quickly, but long enough for her to recognise the car- the classic design, the colour, the number plate, the silver emblem of a leaping jaguar perched on the bonnet.

Joey Boswell's car.

She didn't know whether to be relieved or startled- Joey Boswell wasn't exactly the sort of person she would like to trust in the dark of night down some back alley, and she had no way of knowing whether the signal was meant for her or her pursuers- who knew what he got up to, and who he got involved with? But she had no choice but to keep going towards it- the only alternative didn't bear thinking about.

As she was almost upon the car the passenger door swung open. She made for the opening at once, and a hand reached out of the Jag, took hold of her arm and pulled her inside.

'Fancy seein' you down here at this time of night, sweetheart!' Joey said, leaning over her to shut the car door and immediately turning out into the middle of the street. 'Doesn't really seem your sort of place- need a lift?'

Martina sat rigidly against the car seat, still in shock, heart beating wildly. 'I-you-how-'

Oh, and now she wasn't coherent either. Lovely.

'I may be lyin' in the gutter- no job, no education past a certain level- but I can put two and two together, you know,' Joey said. 'You wanna be careful, sunshine- that lot aren't known for their patience.'

He paused for a moment, turning his head a little to survey her. 'You all right?'

'Fine,' Martina murmured, her breathing slowing.

'They didn't hurt y-'

'-No.'

Joey let out a breath of air. 'Good.'

They were silent for several more moments and Martina was able to get her bearings properly. Now her mind was having a chance to work at a normal pace, it occurred to her that she was, in fact, in a car, and it might be a good idea to put her seatbelt on. She did so, mulling over in astonishment the fact that a few minutes ago she had very nearly been attacked, mugged or worse, and that she had somehow been rescued by Joey Boswell, of all people. She didn't know whether she felt relieved or grateful- or resentful at the fact that she now owed him. She wouldn't put it past him to use this to his advantage somehow, start dragging out all those 'I saved your life' excuses next time he wanted to claim for something.

'Where were you headed, sweetheart?'

Joey's question snapped her back to attention, and she directed him in a monotone, still not quite able to believe the whole situation. Joey Boswell had actually had the decency to help someone in trouble. You turn left here. What did that mean? Could she put it down to an actual human side of the wicked, money-thieving mastermind- or did he have some ulterior motive? Take the second right here. As the streets around her became more familiar, more illuminated with streetlights and closer to home, Martina's mind sank deeper into confusion. And then the first left. He couldn't actually care all that much about what happened to her- that just couldn't be right at all. He only loved himself and his family- he made that much crystal clear almost every time he opened his gob. So what did he hope to achieve? A better reputation? Some sort of special treatment from her down the DHSS? Or maybe he just would have felt guilty had he not stepped in and done something- maybe even he couldn't even ignore the plight of the helpless…Just here will be fine.

The car ride had ended far more quickly than Martina would have liked. Desperate as she was to get out of the questionably legal Jaguar, she knew when he stopped the car there should come some sort of acknowledgement of what he had just done for her, and she wasn't entirely sure how to phrase that.

He was setting the parking brake now, turning the engine off.

'Thank you,' she said quietly.

'No sweat,' it was fairly dark inside the car, but even in the faint few shreds of light she could tell he was grinning. 'You be my guardian angel, sweetheart, and I'll be yours.'

Chapter Text

Joey Boswell hadn't known why he'd felt like a drive that evening. He'd had this strange urge, and had cruised down the slowly darkening streets, wasting time and petrol. He'd even phoned home to ask his Mam to count him out for dinner. It was just one of those evenings.

He hadn't known what he was doing. And he certainly didn't expect to see Martina, the DHSS lady. But there she was, fighting off the rain and the dark and trying to get somewhere in a hurry. Joey stopped for a little while, smiling a little to himself at her visible determination. He couldn't help admiring her. Underneath that cold feigned indifference there was a brilliant, feisty, strong character, one that never ceased to put a smile on his face. There was something extremely satisfying about seeing her, talking to her, teasing her and provoking that side of her to rear its head and fight back. He knew she most probably despised him- he didn't exactly make her working life easier, but he'd grown very fond of her witty retorts, of that evil smile she gave him when she spotted a flaw in his story or told him she was out to get him, in short, he'd grown very fond of her.

And all of a sudden, what he was seeing was making him sick. A group of thugs had materialised out of nowhere, and judging by the faint voices Joey could hear through the windows of his car, they were all DHSS clients. All very violent DHSS clients. All the ones who despised Martina's stern demeanour. All the ones most likely to carry out their threats.

Joey knew Dick Wilson- knew him and had been in some very dangerous situations around him- most of which involved either him or Jack or Adrian emerging with a black eye. The thought that he had cornered Martina, whom he had threatened with some fairly violent things by this time, didn't bode well at all. They were all slurring quite loudly now, shouting out to Martina- and not at all in a friendly way. One of them grabbed hold of her arm and Joey tensed in his seat, horrified but unsure what to do. Only one thought formed in his mind, running through it over and over, but he had no idea how to execute it.

I've got to get her out of there.

In the blink of an eye the DHSS lady had narrowly dodged a hit from left field and turned to flee. She had no chance of outrunning them- huge, beefy lads, the lot of them- but she was coming this way, and if she could just get to the Jag, Joey could do the rest…

His brain clicking back into action, Joey hastily flashed his lights at her in the hope she would recognise the gesture as a signal, hurrying to unlock the car door for her. As he watched, the small, approaching figure hesitated just a second, and then veered slightly towards him. Please let her get here before that lot catch up to her…

She was so close now. Joey hurried to open the door, leaning out of the car to pull her inside. She was shivering, out of breath, more than a little surprised at the turn of events, that was for sure- but Joey couldn't even allow himself to think or speak until he had turned out onto the road and was a safe distance from the thugs.

He didn't even know which way he was driving now, but any way that got Martina out of harm would do.

'Fancy seein' you down here at this time of night, sweetheart!' it was a strain to keep his voice so light, so full of his usual teasing hue when he was so concerned.

Martina was very unresponsive on the journey home. She volunteered a few expressionless directions, but Joey could tell both from the tone of her voice and the way she sat, awkward and uncomfortable, that she had been rather shaken. He wasn't entirely sure what to say- he was normally never short of words around her, but now just didn't seem the right time to utter them.

It was an odd feeling, sitting in the car with Martina in the passenger seat- Martina who constantly made cutting remarks about this very car. Martina who was always out to get him. Martina who, at this moment, he just wanted to reach out and hold. He couldn't even say why. She wasn't that sort of person, really, she was far too tough, but there were times when, to Joey, she seemed so little and lost, like someone trying to hide their hurt underneath a hard-faced façade. He'd felt that way before- when Shifty had deceived her and she'd been in despair.

And it was an odd feeling, because it felt strangely like déjà vu. He'd had a woman in the front of his car before in a similar state. Roxy. It was odd that two such significant women in his life should both end up in his Jag in this way. Roxy had been the love of his life, or so he had thought. He'd felt very desperate to cling onto her, or rather, the idea of her. With Martina here, it was different. He looked at her and saw someone he respected, someone he admired dearly, and someone he suddenly wished ardently didn't despise him so. He blinked. What was coming over him?

Pull yourself together, son.

He slowed the car to a stop, shutting off the engine and turning to look at her properly. She was staring straight ahead, still breathing rather heavily, a far cry from the picture of strong-willed composure that usually sat behind the counter at the DHSS. The urge to reach over and hold her was even stronger now. He did nothing.

'Thank you.' Joey had to double check with his brain to make sure he hadn't just imagined her saying it. No, she was definitely looking at him, or trying not to, her eyes downcast but pointed in his direction.

Coming back to his senses, Joey flashed her one of his usual wily smiles. 'No sweat,' he said, finding both his voice and his usual sense of humour, 'you be my guardian angel, sweetheart, and I'll be yours.'

He might have been imagining it, but he could have sworn she smirked as she climbed out of the car.

'Where were you last night then?' was the first thing Joey heard as soon as his front foot touched the kitchen floor.

'Billy!' Nellie snapped. 'We don't ask each other personal questions!'

Billy slumped back into his chair, muttering to himself about Julie and having a baby and a sandwich business, and everyone knowing everything about him.

'Ah, if I didn't know better, I'd say Joey's been up to something he doesn't want us to know about!' chimed in Shifty. 'I know that look, you see…'

'Of course you do,' Nellie snarled, 'you're constantly up to something you don't want anyone to know about! Well don't you dare accuse my sons of being devious, tar them with the same brush as you! Whatever Joey was doing, he certainly wasn't going round stealing cars, or…'

'Okay, Mam, okay,' Joey thought this might be a good point to interrupt his mother's overreaction, 'I'm sure Shifty didn't mean it like that. Now why don't you just sit down and finish your breakfast?'

Nellie slumped back into her seat, immediately calmed by her eldest's words. Joey sighed privately. It was always the same in this house. Everyone fell to pieces about everything, and he was always the one they counted on to solve their problems. Not that he begrudged them this, mind, but right now his own thoughts were in turmoil.

He hadn't stopped thinking about the incident with Martina all night. About the fact that he had just happened to be in the right place at the right time. About the fact that she could have been in such trouble in the first place- he'd never really stopped to think about the grave implications of being a DHSS lady. He'd never personally seen any reason to harm the people who provided him with his pocket money, but he'd heard the threats several times. But never in his life had he considered the idea that someone might actually try to carry them out.

And why was he so concerned about her? Natural instinct would compel him to offer assistance to anyone he thought needed it- he seemed to have a habit for rescuing pitiful things, constantly making donations to the RSPCA, giving homeless people a tenner for a few fags- but natural instinct wouldn't keep him up all night still worrying about someone even when they were safe and sound. And Martina wasn't a pitiful thing- she was one of the strongest people Joey had ever chanced to encounter. And she hated him, he couldn't forget that.

Oh, how he wished she didn't, though. He wished his little flirtatious trips to the DHSS were more to her than an annoyance to be tolerated and gotten over with as quickly as possible. He wished she knew that he admired her, really. That he genuinely did respect her, even if they were on opposite sides of the Social Security partition.

'Aw, hey, isn't our Joey enigmatic?'

Joey looked up at the mention of his name to see Aveline smiling dreamily. 'He's so deep, so calm, he just sits there all quiet and wise and…ponderin'…'

He paid attention long enough to smile at her, and then she was back on the subject of her press-on nails and he lapsed back into thought.

Joey stole a look at Shifty across the table. The Irishman was sitting there, a treacherously innocent look on his face. He was always getting into some trouble or other, and Joey wasn't sure how many more people- whether they be women, car owners or family members- could stand it. He found his thoughts again drifting to Martina. Poor woman had been used terribly by his cousin- another occasion when he had been concerned for her. She'd been mentioning suicide when he visited that time, and though he'd made a joke about electric shocks ruining her hair to try and relieve the tension, to hear her discussing throat-cutting, wrist-slashing, tablet-swallowing and sticking her fingers in an electric socket had made his heart stop for a second, then gallop. He'd spent the best part of the rest of his visit trying to calm her down, comforting her with a few honest words and sympathies, not leaving until he was sure she was as close as back to normal as possible and in no danger of doing anything drastic.

What are you doin', son? Why are you still thinkin' about her? Leave it be, son! Leave it be!

'Do we 'ave to 'ave this at the table! How many times do I have to tell you, my sanity is 'angin' by a thread! 'Angin' by a thread!'

'I can't say anythin' in this 'ouse!' Billy was snapping back at Adrian, the two of them on their feet.

He'd let his mind wander too far, and now yet another argument had broken out around the Boswell table.

'Look what yeh've done!'' Aveline squealed, joining in the fray. 'You've made me spill me nail polish all over me frock- and I have ter look spotless, 'cause I'm a model aren' I?!'

'Cut it, all of you, just CUT IT!'

As usual, as soon as Joey raised his voice the entire room fell silent. The family stared at the eldest Boswell son, ever in shock at the breaking of his composure. He was always the calm one, the sensible one. The together one. The one who didn't shout- but right now, he just couldn't cope. They were doing his head in.

He took a slow breath, ridding himself of the fury that had caused his outburst, and apologised.

'Let's just stop all this bickering and eat, okay?'

It was nearly twelve, and Joey had been agonising over it for several hours before- at last- coming to the conclusion that the only way to stop his turmoil was to just go and see her- check if she was all right. Of course that was what was wrong with him- he just wanted to see the story through, make sure she'd gotten over the events of last night. It had been a very traumatic experience, and it was only normal to want to make sure someone who'd been put through something like that was recovering. That had to be it…

With that in mind, he started up his Jag. He would go down the DHSS on some pretence- didn't need to be anything fancy, a rent increase, a heating bill, just one of the usual claims, and he could somehow bring up the question.

Incidentally, are you okay, sweetheart? After last night? Er, so, how are you? No more problems? Er, listen, sweetheart, about last night…

Nothing sounded right, and as Joey mulled it over, trying to carefully craft the right question, he noticed to his dismay that he had driven straight past the DHSS.

Joey wanted to reprimand himself. He was just driving round again, having an internal argument with himself. I should have thought of something to claim for first…no, she wouldn't even fall for that, she knows all too well when I'm embellishing things to cover up the truth…

A tape of classical music was thrumming through the car, usually a much-loved reminder of how distinguished he was compared to everyone else, but today the music irritated him. It was distracting him from his muddled thoughts. He shut it off.

What's wrong with you, son? Get it together, for goodness' sake!

He was nowhere near the DHSS now- at least four streets away, and still cruising in the wrong direction. He'd have to stop now, and turn…

…wait.

Joey slowed the Jag to a stop, frantically craning his neck to get a good look in his rear view mirror. There she was, standing at the end of the queue for the cash-point machine. Joey's heart leapt. What a stroke of luck, finding her here, but now he had to go and talk to her, and the idea made him nervous.

No, that wasn't right. He, the permanently cheerful Joey Boswell could not be nervous about talking to a DHSS girl. That was not like him at all.

Determined to get on with it, Joey turned the Jag's engine off and stepped into the street. Martina was nearly at the front of the queue now. He crept up to her, standing quietly behind her as she stepped up to the machine and began punching in her PIN number. She didn't notice, but went on withdrawing her cash.

Any second and she'd turn round. Joey would have to time this very carefully. He raised his hands and lightly brought them down on her shoulders.

She jumped about a foot in the air, and Joey chuckled at her half-shocked, half-infuriated expression as she turned and saw him.

'Oh. It's you.'

'Greetings!'

Martina looked from him to the cash machine. 'Down to yer last million are you?'

She wasn't too shaken up if she could still make remarks like that. Joey relaxed a little.

'Just collectin' me pennies, Angel, that's all.' He gave her a winning smile.

Martina raised her eyes a bit and made a little tutting noise. She turned to leave, and Joey automatically put his hand back on her shoulder to hold her where she was.

'Listen- you okay, sweetheart?' Martina turned to look at him. 'After last night…'

'I'm all right, Mister Boswell,' the DHSS girl sighed. 'They've all tried their little tricks…'

'They weren't tryin' tricks, sweetheart, they were trying to hurt you,' he didn't let his slight irritation show as he interrupted her before the 'but I've got my ways of dealin' with them' half of her sentence surfaced. She could say that in the DHSS, when people tried everything under the sun to snag another pay cheque, but this was serious.

'I'm all right, Mister Boswell,' she repeated. He opened his mouth. 'Thank you for your concern,' she added pointedly, a clear indication that in her mind the topic was closed to discussion.

'What sort of guardian angel would I be if I weren't concerned?' Joey teased, earning himself a roll of the eyes and a slight smirk.

'Seriously, though,' Joey stopped her again. 'If they try anythin' like that again, let me know, and I'll…'

Martina turned her head, fixing him with a strange look. 'Mister Boswell, I'm…touched by your consideration,' she sounded as though she couldn't believe her ears, nor her own mouth, 'but I want to forget about that…incident…as soon as I possibly can.'

He sighed. 'Of course you do, sweetheart. Of course you do. Just…take care, okay?'

She nodded, exhaling herself and making a third attempt at walking away from him.

She took two steps, then Joey's mouth acted without his mind.

'Martina!'

She hesitated. Joey wanted to kick himself.

What is wrong with you, son? Leave her be!

His gob hadn't finished, though.

'Have dinner with me.'

He saw Martina go white, her eyes widening. He hadn't expected the words to come out of his mouth himself, they just had. But he wouldn't retract them now, not for the world. The expression on the DHSS lady's face was far too brilliant. If he'd been in a normal mood, the purse of her lips and the huge eyes would have been worth adding a few extra jesting remarks. But now he'd said it, Joey realised he meant it. He suddenly wanted, more than anything, to talk to her- properly, not just in a few spare seconds on the side of the road, not in a crowded DHSS office, forced to keep the topic to finance and desperately trying to get a few more words in before she shouted 'next!' He wanted to listen to anything she might have to say and convince her, somehow, that he was more than just a shallow idiot, all dubiously legal expensive gear and slick words.

'What?' Well, she'd found her voice at any rate. She looked just as surprised at the idea as he had when it had emerged. But now Joey was more in control of his mind. He stepped forward, closing the gap between them.

'Have dinner with me,' he repeated.

'You're not serious, Mister Boswell?'

'Perfectly serious, yes.' He met her eyes and refused to break the connection until any notion of his joking over this matter had visibly vanished from her head.

A long and rather awkward silence ensued. It was strange, Joey thought, how much you noticed during a pause like this, when you were trying to think about and at the same time avoid deciding on what you were going to say next. The little clink of the zipper on his leather jacket against his sleeve. The breeze gently ruffling Martina's hair. The pigeon flitting dangerously close to his Jag, which he had a good mind to chase away…no, it was going…

'All right then.' Her response caused him to jump a little- though whether from snapping him from his drifting thoughts or surprising him with her agreement he wasn't sure. There was a bit of a sigh in her voice, as though resigning herself to something. 'If you really are serious, and seeing as I don't seem to be able to shake you off at the moment…'

A grin split Joey's face in two. She'd actually agreed to it…

'On the condition you won't try to butter me up to get more benefits at the DHSS…' she was smirking wickedly now, those blue eyes glinting with that mischievous look she often gave him when telling him she was out to get him, and Joey's grin stretched even further.

Well, that certainly wasn't the turn of events he was expecting. He couldn't say that was a bad thing, though.

Joey wasn't sure whether he'd expected Martina to turn up or not. He wasn't really sure what to think about the whole situation, it had just sort of happened, out of his control. He leaned against the wall, shivering a little even under his leather jacket and fiddling with his bow tie, eyes darting back and forth along the street.

He glanced at his Cartier watch. It was two minutes past eight. Not that that meant much in the way of anything. Two minutes was neither here nor there- not long enough to be an indicator of whether or not she was coming. Joey took another breath. And then he saw someone approaching him. A purposeful, yet somehow self-conscious stride, long coat buttoned up, wavy hair carefully curled up at the ends and blowing slightly. And she was looking right at him.

The eldest Boswell suddenly felt his heart take off and his hands shake. He hadn't experienced nerves like these since he couldn't remember when. But then again, he couldn't remember doing something as reckless as asking a DHSS lady out to dinner any time recently either.

'Greetings!' He smiled at her, trying to forge a grin across his face that looked genuine, not nervous, and unsure if he'd pulled it off. The corners of her mouth turned partway up. She did look incredibly pretty. Under her coat she wore a pale blue shirt that set off her eyes, which sparkled just so in the light of the streetlamps. Joey's stretched mouth instantly softened into a fond smile, and, suddenly remembering how to think and act again, he held out his arm to her.

'Don't think all this flattery is going to get you anywhere,' Martina said, in that mock-stern way he adored, and she slipped her arm through his.

Joey felt a strange sensation in the vicinity of his ribcage.

Chapter Text

I must be going mad.

Either that or the stress of last night was really doing things to her brain, Martina reasoned. Why else would she agree to have dinner with Joey Boswell- Joey Boswell! Of all the people in the world…well, he did rescue her. She had to be grateful for that, even if he was a heinous cheat when it came to the DHSS, who seemed to try and personally ensure her job was made a hundred times more difficult.

Somehow, the incident in the back alley had done something strange to both of them. The face that gazed into her eyes, asking if she was all right and cajoling her to join him for the evening seemed a little more…careworn, genuine. Whether or not she was seeing a real side of Joey Boswell, or just another façade created to arouse a different set of her sympathies, it made a change. It was this seemingly sincere side of him, she reckoned, that had floored her for a moment, that had caused her to have a lapse of sanity and answer in the affirmative.

Nonetheless, she still couldn't believe the fact that her feet were moving her in the direction of the restaurant where she was meeting Joey Boswell. Go back, go back now, her brain kept shouting, but her legs took no notice. She kept her eyes down, she didn't dare look fully straight ahead, but kept flickering up as she came closer. He was slouching against the wall, one leg crossed over the other, alternating between toying with his gold watch and the bow tie fastened around his neck.

He looked up as she came closer, and she found herself wishing ardently that she could somehow vanish on the spot. This was completely surreal. The sort of thing that, if she were somehow objectively watching herself, and she told herself about it, she wouldn't believe. She didn't believe it.

Joey Boswell was turning to her now, smiling, greeting her with (surprise, surprise) a 'greetings!' and all of a sudden she was in the DHSS, she was in front of a cash machine saying 'come here when we're closed, do you?', she was anywhere she normally was, facing him like she normally did, and it wasn't a problem at all. Her mouth twitched into a sort of half-smile.

He offered his arm to her, in the same could-be-mock-could-be-real gentlemanly fashion, the way he had kissed her hand several times before. She couldn't help a little shake of her head as she took it.

'Don't think all this flattery is going to get you anywhere,' she said without having to think, slightly startled at how easy it was to slip back into their usual banter. Well, what had she been expecting, anyway? She knew Joey Boswell, knew how his mind worked. She'd been working herself up all day, expecting something terrifying and unknown, but he was the same person he always was, the same person who came into her work and started laying on the charm to get an extra form or two. It was just what he wanted from her that remained unclear…

'Who said anything about flattery?' he asked her, pretending to be wounded. 'Did I say anything about flattery, Angel?' Then, in the same breath, 'you are beautiful, did I tell you that?'

She inhaled sharply and elbowed him in the ribs. Hmm, that might be an advantage of this close proximity to Joey. She could really make him suffer for his annoying remarks.

He just laughed, and putting his arm around her shoulders, gently guided her into the building.

It was a very strange experience, you could give it that. Joey continued his perfect gentleman act, taking her coat off her shoulders, pulling out her chair for her. They talked a little bit, starting with the DHSS, veering off into the topic of family and then into random snippets of conversation about this and that. He was a surprisingly agreeable companion, very easy to talk to, so easy that she could almost forget for a moment that this was the very same man who tried so hard to irritate her. Almost, but not completely.

She was enjoying herself a lot more than she'd expected to, though. It took her back to those days, only a few months ago, though they seemed further away than that now, when Shifty had picked her up every lunch hour, in cars he had 'borrowed from his friends', and taken her places. It was this memory that stopped her from fully relaxing- after all, from her experience, the Boswells had quick, silver tongues, and were apt at turning on and off the charm to achieve their own devious ends.

But Joey wasn't Shifty, she had to remember that. He hadn't signalled any intentions other than to cheer her up because of the rough time she'd had, and he'd been nothing but nice to her since the evening started. She had to know why, though.

'Mister Boswell,' she said slowly. She thought he mouthed 'Joey' at her, but she ignored him. 'Why did you want to…'

'Why did I want to take you out to dinner?' Joey finished for her. 'Well, sweetheart, I wanted to lure you here to take advantage of you…'

Martina choked on the bit of food in her mouth.

'I'm joking, Angel!' Joey laughed, putting his hand over hers. 'I'm joking!' His face grew serious. 'You don't think much of me, do you?'

The DHSS lady suddenly felt intensely guilty. She couldn't even say why. No, she didn't think all that much of him, not when he was sitting there spilling out pathetically wannabe-heartrending soliloquies in an attempt to trick her out of a lot of extra quid. No, she didn't think that much of him when he was going on about the near-poverty state his family were supposedly in, while swanning around in leather gear and a top-of-the-range Jaguar Mark II.

But when he was talking sincerely, telling her the truth about Shifty and not trying to embellish the facts, when he was turning up at just the right moment and getting her out of trouble- and who knew what the risk could be, aggravating the people he had to associate with daily- she thought more of him than she cared to admit.

Joey Boswell was such a confusing presence in her life, and that irritated her.

She frowned at him. 'I don't not…'

He just chuckled. 'I do love your face when you're annoyed with me, sweetheart!'

He tightened his hand around hers for a moment before letting go. The subject wasn't broached for the rest of the evening. Joey continued to display the same niceties as he had all evening. When the bill came, he paid for it, he held out her coat for her to slip into, he offered her a lift home and opened the car door for her like a gentleman. And all the while Martina just marvelled at it- the fact that she was seeing a completely different side of Joey Boswell, and he, although determined to exploit every loophole at the DHSS and irritate the brains out of her, was being so considerate and gentle, so completely different from the selfish, arrogant image that had been built up in her head over the few years they'd been interacting.

'I suppose I should be taking note of all this,' she said at length, 'all the money you flashed about this evening, this Jaguar…supposedly loaned to you by your 'friend'- or was it an old lady's? I'm forgetting…' she raised her arms a little to gesture to the car around them.

Joey leaned back in his seat, turning his head one-eighty degrees to smirk at her. 'And who says it isn't loaned to me?'

She just gave him a withering look. 'I wasn't born yesterday.'

'Ah, but I've got a lot of brilliant excuses still to go! There are all sorts of things I could say- it was left to me in me distant great-uncle's will, who wanted so desperately for me to take care of it the way he did, I won it in a raffle…'

'You clubbed together as a family…' Martina offered.

'Nothing wrong with that one.'

She cocked her head to one side. 'What about the truth?'

'DHSS ladies don't need to know the truth. Who knows what you might get up to when you get back to work?' he was using that tone that normally made her want to slap him, but at the moment, for some reason, she didn't feel annoyed. She felt like laughing at him, just a little, and zinging him back with a witty or biting remark. Martina marvelled over this for a quarter of a second, and then the mortifying realisation hit her that she was flirting with Joey Boswell.

Had she gone completely insane? Of all the people in this whole entire world, she'd subconsciously turned her efforts towards him. The most infuriating, loathsome…

…mind you, the Joey she'd seen this evening was such a far cry from the usual, annoying one she encountered at work that he could practically be counted as a different person.

'And how do you know I'm not up to something now? I have told you several times I'm out to get you, haven't I? For all you know I might be taking careful note of the impossible amount of money you've been spending and all the little ill-gotten possessions you have…'

'Well, then, I'd just have to never let you leave.'

'Oh, so now you're abducting me, are you Mister Boswell?'

'I might have no other choice, mightn't I? You know too much, sweetheart, you know too much.'

They looked at each other for a moment with deadpan expressions. And then identical amused smiles stretched across both their faces and they laughed.

'Not that that mightn't be to my advantage,' Martina mused, 'imagine how many lucrative little schemes of yours I might be able to unearth if I were imprisoned in the Palace of Kelsall Street- secret hoards of money stashed in safes behind valuable oil paintings, that sort of thing…'

Joey snickered on.

'What is it, then?'

He stopped sniggering for a minute. 'What's what?'

'The truth?'

'Well, it's a long story, you see…' he seemed to think better of whatever ridiculous tall tale he was about to tell and give up, 'oh, it's a nice car! I like nice cars! There's no law against that, is there, sweetheart?' he ran his fingers along the steering wheel in an almost loving gesture and Martina had an almost uncontrollable urge to howl with laughter at him and his ridiculous affection for his car.

'If only I could get answers like that from you when you come to the DHSS,' she said wistfully. 'It could save us a lot of trouble- and forms...are you keeping your eyes on the road?'

It had only just that second occurred to her that Joey had been paying more attention to her than to his driving, and just in time the eldest Boswell turned his face to the front, hastily spun the steering wheel and swerved out the way of an approaching car.

'Of course I'm keepin' me eyes on the road, angel,' said Joey casually, as if nothing had happened, 'I am a very responsible driver, you know!'

She exhaled rather sharply. They were quiet for a few minutes and Martina became aware that soon they would be approaching her street, and the evening would be officially over. Not that she minded it being over, it would be a bit of a relief, if she were honest, but what happened between now and it ending? What exactly was Joey Boswell after- friendship? Just being kind to her? Or was this all just a ruse to butter her up so the next time she saw him down the Social Security she'd be more willing to give into whatever crazed request he came up with? Would he want to kiss her when she got out of the car? She wouldn't let him, of course. She was sure of that. Well, almost sure. Well, now she came to think about it, she was not so sure she didn't want him to...no, what was she thinking? Or- oh, that doesn't bear thinking about.

The Jaguar slowed to a gentle stop, and Joey flicked the key in the ignition, ceasing the thrum of the engine. He turned slowly in his seat, shooting her a very charming smile.

'Well, sweetheart, here we are then.'

Martina took a deep breath. 'Thank you,' she said a little awkwardly.

'My pleasure, Angel.' He took hold of her hand and kissed it, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. 'Take care of yourself, now.'

She tutted gently and opened the car door.

'Martina?'

She paused.

Joey chewed on his lip, apparently unsure how to phrase whatever he was about to say. 'Can I see you again?'

What did he mean by that?

'You 'see me' almost every day in the DHSS,' she said cautiously.

He shook his head. 'That's not what I meant.'

Martina really didn't know what to say. She wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to 'see Joey Boswell again'- no matter what the context, but on the other hand, she wasn't entirely sure she didn't either. It was a very difficult one to call. For so long she had hated Joey Boswell, loathed it whenever he walked through the double doors of the Social Security office. Or she thought she had, anyway. Sometimes it had been rather entertaining to call his bluff, to set up tapes with sad violin dirges to play along to his sob-stories, and at those times she hadn't been thinking of hating him, only of how much fun it was to annoy him back. And of course, he had rescued her, and she supposed you could never look at someone who saves you in the same light, even if you wanted to. But it was just so hard to know what to do…

'Go on, then,' she answered slowly, smiling in spite of herself. 'You can see me again, if you like.' She pretended to sigh and then turned to face him, looking him directly in the eye and grinning evilly. 'It'll give me more chance to find out what you're up to.'

Joey chuckled loudly, but the excitement in his smile was impossible for him to hide, and Martina felt oddly flattered that he was so pleased about it.

She wondered briefly if something had changed in his attitude towards her since the incident the other night. But then again, when she looked back at other little incidents throughout the time she'd known him, maybe nothing had changed, maybe just one or the other of them was realising something, only she couldn't quite work out what that something was.

The only thing she knew was that she was confused.

Chapter Text

Joey wasn't sure the exact moment it happened- perhaps it was a gradual gathering of feelings over these last few days as opposed to a sudden realisation, but at some point over the course of the evening he came to understand just why he'd been so concerned for her. He'd always had a little fondness for her, seeing her all strong and brave in the DHSS no matter what was thrown at her, occasionally turning a blind eye to his exploits despite her insistence that he was out to get him, but it was only after his mouth asked her out to dinner without the consent of his brain that he started to get an inkling of what was going on in his subconscious regarding Martina. And at some point there had been almost a shift in the tone of the evening- from one of confusion to one of certainty, and he had found himself going on in the knowledge that he did, without a doubt, fancy Martina the DHSS lady.

And once he had discovered this, Joey Boswell felt a rather strange sense of calm. So many of his actions made a whole lot more sense now, as if the discovery had shed light on things he'd hitherto been unable to see properly. But what was he to do about that? He wasn't normally one for assessing the consequences of relationships- if he liked someone, he did something about it, but the events of the past year or so had made him a little more cautious. There were so many things for him to consider.

Roxy, for a start. He'd made the mistake of falling in love with her, despite her many failings and selfish nature- her refusal to accept that his family meant the world to him, her choice to leave him but then still want him in her life when she was married and had a child. She'd used him, and though Martina, he was fairly certain, would never do anything like that, he'd adopted the once-bitten-twice-shy mentality- from now on he would have to be a lot more responsible with his decision making. Roxy presented another problem as well- there was one part of his mind that just couldn't get over her. He wasn't sure any more whether that was love, or just an obsession spawned from not having gained proper closure on their relationship, but there was still a special place in his heart reserved for her, and he didn't know at all what to do about that. The longer he held onto it the more difficult it was for him to let go of it. Maybe would never be over Roxy, he thought, but the fact that he had found himself fancying someone else must be some indication that most of himself had moved on.

Martina herself constituted problem enough- she, he was pretty sure, came close to despising him at times. True, there was the occasional moment when they connected, sometimes she even reciprocated his flirtatious remarks, but the truth of the matter was that no matter how many times he rescued her or took her out to dinner, she was still the DHSS lady, he was still one of the biggest DHSS cheats that ever had lived, and their working relationship had set up a barrier between them that was fairly impossible to break. Even if they ever did become something more to each other, he was never going to stop finding the loopholes in the state policies to provide luxury for his family, and he didn't expect her to change her ways or quit her job either. They were both leopards, and the thought of either of them changing their spots was just preposterous.

If anything like that ever did happen. For all he knew, Martina felt nothing for him, other than perhaps a brief bout of gratitude for the other night, and an ongoing desire to see him get his comeuppance- in which case, it was better not to push things.

And then, of course, there was the pressing issue of his cousin. Joey knew Shifty was flighty- picked up girls and dropped them hither and thither- indeed, he had tried to warn him against doing such a thing to Martina. And despite his warnings, the black sheep of the Boswell family had still gone and hurt her very deeply. All sorts of things could arise from this- what if Martina had been put off Boswells for good because of this? She'd already dropped enough hints that she chalked Shifty's deceptions up to the 'Boswell silver tongue', unaware that none of the other family members treated their women in that way. And on the other side of the spectrum, what if she still harboured some feelings for him- or he for her?

Oh, it was all too complicated. Pull out, son, Joey's logical side instructed. Pull out before hopelessness sets in.

But like every other time he thought this, he completely ignored this warning, and instead found himself asking if he could see her again.

You idiot! What did you go and say that for?

'Oh, go on then,' she said after a time, and her response had him more surprised than his own question, 'you can see me again, if you like- it'll give me more chance to find out what you're up to.'

He laughed then- he had to, when she spoke like that, her determination to 'find out what he was up to' didn't half amuse him- but another part of him was agonising over what was going through her head when she made up her mind to reply. Why had she agreed? He couldn't work out at all what she might have been thinking- it was like he always said; women were put on this earth to baffle.

When she exited his car, he sat for a little while, engine running and his chin on the steering wheel, trying to mull the whole thing over.

What am I doin'?

'Greetings!' Joey entered the Boswell house to find his three brothers lounging about the sofa, the telly droning on in the background. As usual, Billy was all but asleep, Jack, having recently returned from America, had settled back into his usual routine of returning with a van full of rubbish and reading dirty magazines in the evening, as he was now, and Adrian was busy scribbling away at a new poem.

The mob of them glanced up for a moment before returning to their various activities.

'Ooh, Joey,' Aveline cooed, teetering into the room on nine-inch heels and carrying a wedding magazine, 'all these mysterious comin's and goin's…even more than usual!'

'Just explorin' the world, princess,' Joey replied enigmatically, flopping down onto the sofa and opening his newspaper.

'Two nights in a row we 'aven't seen 'im!' Billy commented rather loudly, far too loudly for nearly ten o'clock at night , 'I wonder what 'e does! On some secret dates, are you?'

'Bill-y!' Joey chided, shooting him an annoyed look, outwardly irritated at Billy's tactlessness, inwardly seething at his brother's accidental perceptiveness. 'You need to learn, son, before you open your mouth, to think about what you're saying!'

This at least seemed to shut the youngest Boswell up. Joey was angrily amazed at the fact that Billy, the family idiot, in his witless ways had accidentally stumbled upon the truth. By telling him off as usual, he hoped he could put the family off the scent- after all, more often than not Billy's assumptions were drastically wrong.

'You may have a point there, Billy,' Aveline piped up, sitting down so her skirt practically disappeared and she was all legs, 'when I was seein' Oswald and I wasn't supposed to, I used to sneak off in the evenin's, and pretend I was modellin' late…'

'Princess, I'm not…'

'Yeah, and when I was first seeing Julie I used to spend all the time in her 'ouse over the road, and you lot all used to wonder where I was…'

'And our Adrian, when he used to sneak off with Carmen to the bushes,' Aveline piped up, to which a cross Adrian fumed 'can't you mention my last relationship without referring to the bushes?!'

'Look, look,' Joey raised his hands to quieten the rabble, 'I am not seein' anyone I'm not supposed to, okay?' The others stopped their squabbling and quietened down, looking at him in disappointment, 'now why don't we all just go to bed and we'll have a nice social chat tomorrow mornin'?'

'Yeah, I've got a full day of sellin' decent stuff and buyin' crap tomorrer,' Jack yawned, hiding his naughty magazine down the side of the sofa and ambling toward the stairs.

'Me too- I'm goin' down the church to see Oswald,' Aveline gushed.

'And I've got a full day of rows with Julie, trying to see Francesca, more rowing with Julie and sellin' sandwiches,' Billy yawned loudly, not bothering to cover his mouth.

Joey sighed with relief. It was so easily to distract the family's attention- they all had their own stories, their own dramas, their own exciting news, and they were all so eager to share their experiences that Joey's secrets soon slipped back into the shadows.

Not that he had any problem with letting them know he'd been with Martina, only he wanted to sort out what was actually going on between them- were they friends or more? Or nothing?- before he told anyone. And before he broached the subject with anyone, he wanted to broach it with Shifty. That in itself was a daunting task- how did you tell your cousin you fancied his ex-girlfriend?

He wandered up the stairs, still in a state of flux, and his mixed up thoughts were still with him as he absently changed into his tuxedo and headed back toward the front door. Up on the landing the lights of Aveline's room, then the boys' room flickered off, as the younger Boswells settled down for the night, and Joey strolled toward his Jag, dressed to impress and physically, if not emotionally, ready for a night of mysterious, secret work which would earn him several hundred before the morning.

There had been a lot of speculation about what Joey did- was he a gangster, a male prostitute, something to do with the mafia, working in a casino? Nearly everyone he knew had their theories- and they were all wrong. He wasn't going to correct them, though. What he did to earn his money would remain his secret. And right now, it would take his mind off his dilemma.

'Jack! Get the post!' Nellie Boswell snapped as her second-eldest came galumphing down the stairs, still in his pyjamas and his hair ruffled. Her Jack-can-do-no-wrong attitude had evaporated as soon as he actually returned home and started bringing them ten crates of tomatoes every other week, and she was back to worrying about his mental health every minute of the day and scolding him to do chores.

'I'm too knackered to get the post,' Jack grumbled, slumping into his usual chair at the kitchen table and rummaging through one of the cereal packages in search of the plastic frog.

Adrian was next to follow, already swathed in the red waistcoat and cravat of a budding artist stroke poet.

'Adrian! Get the post!'

'I'm too depressed this morning,' Adrian replied in a dramatic voice. 'I need to be in the right frame of mind to write a heartbreaking poem on love and loss, so I'm thinkin' of when I was made redundant from real estate…and when Carmen said I was no good at it… and when I…' he broke down, dabbing at his face with a hanky. Mrs Boswell raised her eyes.

'Julie is impossible! Her solicitors are ruinin' my life!' Billy's announcement filled the kitchen seconds before he appeared himself, stomping across to the table and burying his face in his arms, knocking over his (thankfully empty) breakfast bowl in the process.

'Get the post!' Nellie ordered.

'I'm in an emotional crisis, aren't I?'

'Billy! Get the post!'

Billy threw a furious glance around the room. 'Why is it always me?!'

'Mornin'! Mail call!' Joey's blond head appeared round the door. He flicked a healthy pile of envelopes onto the middle of the table, causing Billy to slump back into his chair with a smug expression. 'Here's the milk, Mam,' he laid three pints on the bench, 'and I'll take Grandad's tray.'

'You're in good spirits today, our Joey,' Nellie observed.

He winked, simultaneously making a clicking noise with his mouth, picked up the silver tray in one graceful movement and swept out again, still in his tux from last night and whistling to himself.

'He never stops, does he?' Nellie murmured.

'Yeah, I'd like to know what he gets up to!' Billy accused, and his mother shot him a cross look.

'I didn't mean that, Billy! He is always providing for the family, and he still finds time to help around the house- which is more than can be said for you! One day he'll wear himself out for us- and what will you do? Lie around on the sofa moaning about your sandwich business, while the post remains stuck in the letterbox and Grandad starts to starve!'

Billy then proceeded to leap to his feet, proclaiming for the world to hear all his marital woes. His voice carried all the way outside, and Joey, poised at Grandad's front door, making ready to knock, shook his head.

He wasn't in particularly high spirits this morning, despite how he appeared to the others. He had found, over the course of his life, that the best way to avoid a tactless and unhelpful discussion of his problems over breakfast was to act like he didn't have any, and offering to do more than his share of chores not only kept him in his mother's good books, but it also helped take his mind off everything.

He still hadn't decided exactly what to do about Martina. He still couldn't work out what she felt about him- if anything, and how he was going to approach Shifty about the situation. Maybe he shouldn't at all- but then if something happened and his cousin found out, he'd be in a very awkward mess indeed.

He'd think about it later, he decided. He hadn't even slept yet, perhaps after a bit of rest he'd be able to think more clearly. He raised his hand and knocked on the door of number 28.

'About time!' Grandad's hands came out like claws, snatching the tray from his grandson's grasp. With one shaky paw, he knocked the lid off one of the serving dishes and peered into the bowl, tutting.

'Porridge again! I'm gettin' sick o' porridge! Tell 'er to put some bloody bacon under next time! I can't remember the last time I had a decent breakfast! I might as well be in prison with all the porridge they serve around 'ere!' He glared at Joey with his beady little eyes and slammed the door in his face, bearing the tray away with him.

Joey snorted and started for home, when the door swung open again.

'Not that you lot'd even notice if I did end up in prison! It were nearly ten past one before I got me lunch yesterday! Leavin' me ter starve, you are!'

Joey kept walking. In a lot of ways, he thought, it would be nice to be Grandad. Oh, not the fragile, feeble little body, or being old or anything, but getting to a place in life where all you had to worry about was what you were going to have with your breakfast. It beat dilemmas about DHSS ladies, anyway.

Joey never slept all that well after being out all night-perhaps because his schedule was so random and ever-changing that his body-clock was messed up. Or perhaps because going to sleep in the daytime in a house full of people was downright impossible.

He'd pulled the blind right down and stuffed various items into the cracks around the edge to block out the light, and yet somehow, from somewhere it still managed to stream in and glare right in his face. He tried pulling the blankets right up around his ears and putting his pillow over his head, but he could still hear Aveline downstairs, nattering away on the phone, presumably to Oswald, about how she was going to do her nails for the wedding.

Joey swore under his breath and clenched his eyes shut. He hadn't been to sleep for at least twenty hours now, and it looked likely that that total was about to be added to. Thoughts of Shifty and Dick Wilson and Martina were dancing around his head, mixed in with images of Roxy and her husband, and for some inexplicable reason Mongy, and then Billy was yelling at him that Jack hadn't brought his dinner tray and Grandad was whining about having a baby and Joey realised he was dreaming.

He dreamed a strange mixture of jumbled thoughts, none of them making sense, with funny colours flashing in front of his unconscious eyes and people turning into other people turning into other people yet again, so one minute he was walking along the street with Martina at his side and the next he was looking at Adrian, waving to him out the window of his Jag.

When Joey opened his eyes the light was coming in from a different side of the window, and he didn't feel any more rested. He had been hoping, in his heart of hearts, that going to sleep would somehow solve his problems, and when he woke up he would suddenly know what to do, but that didn't look like it was going to happen.

He couldn't put it off forever. He was going to have to do something- talk to Shifty, talk to Martina, talk to someone. He climbed out of bed, rubbing his eyes furiously and demanding to himself that he snap out of this indecisive state and make at least one decision today.

'Okay,' he said to himself, 'okay, son. Concentrate.' He forced himself to do basic things- stand up, get dressed, comb his hair.

Falling back into his usual stylish step, he reached for his leather jacket, only to find Mongy was sitting on it.

'Oh, come on, macho,' the eldest Boswell groaned, trying without much success to shift the dog. 'Come on, son, I need to get to the DHSS before it closes…'

He glanced at his watch. It was already ten to three- and on Fridays the DHSS closed at three, he had ten minutes to get down there and talk to Martina…

Well maybe this was a sign. Maybe he wasn't supposed to talk to her today. Maybe today was supposed to be about getting Shifty out of the way. Well then, he'd better go do that.

The racket hit his ears the moment he stepped out of number 30 and approached number 28, adding to the headache that was already building in his head from lack of proper sleep.

'Would ya leave me alone?! If you chase me with that hoover one more time I'll blow it into tiny little pieces!'

'You should have married me, Shifty!'

Oh, wonderful, they were at it again. If Joey had anything to say about it, Shifty and Celia acted like they were already married. Bickering every minute of the day, constantly trying to get revenge on each other (well, her trying to get revenge on him anyway). The annoyance he felt at his cousin and his cousin's ex right now helped put aside any guilt about fancying someone Shifty had once professed to love, and so he had no qualms about continuing with his plan.

He knocked on the door.

'Thank goodness ye're 'ere, Joey, I can't stand that screeching!' It was Grandad, not Shifty, who opened the door, his hands outstretched and waiting for a tray. ' 'ave yeh brought me tea?'

Joey looked down unnecessarily at his hands. 'Er, no, Grandad, I haven't…I wanted to talk to Shifty…'

'Oh, that's right, don't worry about me!' Grandad moaned. 'I could be dead by suppertime fer the notice you lot take o' me! You'll find me one day, just a heap of bones on the carpet, taken by malnutrition…'

'Yer tea's comin', Grandad, it's comin',' Joey soothed, patting him on the shoulder. ' I just want a quick word.'

'I thought we 'ired 'er to clean me 'ouse…all she does is antagonise Shifty and cook that organic rubbish…'

While he kept grumbling Joey slipped past him and into the house, to where Shifty was sulking in an armchair, arms folded, while Celia dusted the shelf behind him with aggression.

'Er, Shifty?' he began. The Irishman looked up, the remnants of his latest argument still visible on his face.

'Can I 'ave a word?'

'Go ahead,' Shifty flung his arms out wildly. 'It'd be nice to have a civilised conversation for once!'

In the background, Celia harrumphed and stormed into the other room.

Joey raised his eyes to the heavens. 'You've gotta be more careful with women, son. Before you know it you'll have the entire female population with guns pointed at your head!'

Shifty cheered up at the hyperbolic quip, despite the ring of truth to it. 'What did you want to chat about?'

Joey cleared his throat. 'Martina.'

Shifty moaned and leaned back against the chair. 'Oh, don't tell me this! What's she said to you now? I told her when we first met I was no good for all that commitment stuff…'

'No, no, that's not it,' Joey wrung his hands together and sat forward on the edge of his chair. 'I just wondered if, er, there was still anythin' between you.'

Shifty ran his hand through his choppy hair. 'Not any more- she's seen to that. Won't even serve me in the DHSS any more, just shoves the forms at me all vicious-like and tells me to go sit far away while I fill them in…that's if she's in a good mood…if she's had a bad day she tears them up again…'

Well that didn't prove anything, other than that she was still angry with him, and still being angry with someone often meant you weren't over them. This wasn't going so well.

'But you, I mean, do you ever…well, miss her?'

'Sometimes,' Shifty mused, staring off into the distance, 'sometimes I think about what could have been, with me and her in her flat…'

This was starting to stray into territory Joey would rather not enter, and all in all the conversation was not heading in the direction he had hoped. 'So are you telling me you might still…love her?'

'Oh, I don't know,' Shifty was the one wringing his hands together now. 'I'm not good for people. Me gob makes arrangements the rest of me can't cope with. Maybe me gob loved her and not the rest of me, I just don't know- and then there's Celia, I don't know how I feel about her either…'

Still not really in his favour, although improving a little. He tried a different approach. 'Well, are you likely to ever…see her again?'

'Doesn't look likely, does it- why are you asking me this?'

His cousin was looking at him strangely, and Joey decided to just bite the bullet and come out with it. 'Er, because, if you're not…well, maybe I want to…'

He bit his lip and waited for Shifty's response.

Chapter Text

It had been a strange week, Martina had to give it that, and an even longer weekend. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of Joey since Thursday night, when they had been out to dinner. Well, so much for 'seeing her again.'

She blinked. It had only been one working day since then, and most normal people didn't come in to the DHSS every day…what was she expecting anyway? She wasn't sure, but part of her was secretly hoping that he would come in, speak to her, maybe let her catch up to whatever his mind was planning and help her understand what was going on. But he hadn't turned up, and she began to wonder just what he was playing at. Had he even meant anything he'd said? It was so hard to tell with Joey Boswell- what he thought, what he wanted, what he intended.

The stack of paperwork seemed to be screaming at her face, so she pushed her thoughts away for the moment and focused on it. Her mind fell back into monotony- sign, stamp, sign, stamp…

And an image pushed its way into her brain. Joey Boswell, signing a social security form with an annoying waggle of his head, then closing his hand into a fist around the pen and slamming back and forth as if stamping something. A mockery of the repetitiveness of her job. An infuriating, but still rather accurate portrayal of her life.

Oh, why was Joey Boswell invading her thoughts again? Didn't he irritate her enough in reality, without taking over her subconscious as well?

Why couldn't he ever leave her alone? And why was he taking his time to come and see her?

And why couldn't she make up her mind about what she wanted him to do?

'I'm just trying to get my head around this,' Shifty said for about the umpteenth time since Friday, sitting down on the Boswells' sofa and wringing his hair with his hands. 'You- and Martina?'

'No, Shifty, not yet- I wouldn't if you didn't…I mean…'

Joey was having trouble with the whole Shifty situation. The Boswell black sheep hadn't taken the news all that well- although completely sure he was over her, the idea that Joey might fancy her had been a complete surprise to him.

'Look, Shifty, for the last time, if there's still anything between you I won't do anything- but, son, you can't expect every woman you cast aside to hold on to you forever- if you leave them, you've left them, understand what I mean? You can't wait around hoping they'll all run back to you at the drop of a hat- you stick to them or you don't!'

'Joey, you know there's nothing between us any more- I told you, I wasn't good for her- it's just…strange to think of you…fancying her…'

'I've known her for longer than you have, son,' Joey retorted, taking offense at this last remark. 'Why would it be strange that I happen to like her?'

'Well how long has this been going on?'

'There's nothing 'going on', Shifty, I just realised…'

'She hates you, you know,' Shifty pointed out. 'She told me so enough times when we were together- you really get up her goat, with your tricks, so she said.'

'Well you can hardly talk about that any more- have you seen the looks she's been givin' you lately?' Joey sighed. 'If she still despises me, nothin's likely to happen now, is it?'

There was a pause.

'Listen,' Joey moved closer to his cousin, 'if she still means that much to you, I promise, I won't make any…'

'It's not that, Joey,' Shifty dug around in his pockets, retrieving the familiar gold brooch that had once sat pinned to Martina's blouse, as it had doubtlessly to countless other women, too and holding it out in his hands. 'The brooch has passed on from her- in fact, I'm thinking of giving it to someone else.'

Joey groaned. 'Not another one! Are you ever gonna learn, son?'

'Not another one,' the Irishman gave him a naughty sort of smile, 'one of the old ones.'

Joey raised his eyebrows.

'Celia. She's, well, she's growing on me. That, or her incessant nagging's done something to me brain.'

The eldest Boswell laughed at this statement. 'Good for you.'

'So, the answer to your question, Joey, is no, I'll not be upset if you decide to follow anything through with Martina- it just might take time to get used to.'

'Thanks, son,' Joey clapped him on the shoulder as he stood up. 'Well then, that's you accounted for, now all I have to do is discuss this with her…' he made his way towards the front door, shrugging his jacket on, one weight at least taken off his shoulders.

'Oh, Joey?'

He turned.

Shifty winked. 'If she decides to go for you…take better care of her than I did. You were right when you said she was a good one.'

'Oh, I will, sunshine,' Joey said. 'I will.'

'Next!'

The pile of forms on her desk was considerably lower than this morning, all handed out to (or snatched by) the scrounging mob that traipsed through the DHSS doors each day, each one of them filled with the same old stories. All of me clothes have been stolen from me washing line. Me giro hasn't come yet. Where's me money, you? I still can't find any work, 'cause the government are cruel bastards…

Another day in the boring life of a DHSS clerk. Martina could swear her mind was going to get repetitive strain injury one of these days. She felt like a zombie, shouting 'next!', handing over sheets of paper, fending off pathetic whingers with the same old, overused lines like her life was a looped tape.

If only something would happen today. It was a particularly dull day, and she felt that any minute she was going to go to sleep at her desk- not that anyone would notice particularly if she did. They'd probably just take the bloody forms from under her face and hurl insults at her all the same.

Another figure was approaching, the clunk of footsteps nearing her desk. Here she went again. She'd better start gearing her brain up for another run.

The chair scraped across the floor and someone flopped into it. She took a deep breath.

'Afternoon-'

'Greetings!' her heart instantly stopped. Joey Boswell had disappeared from her thoughts long enough for her to get a bit of work done, but as soon as he appeared in the flesh, all her anxieties came flooding back again, plus a hundred more. The anticipation of whatever he was going to say was numbing.

'Good day to you, lovely little Money Angel,' Joey said, in his usual obnoxious manner.

Martina wasn't sure how to respond. Should she bring up the other night or not? That might just make her look pathetic and helpless- no, she'd better wait to see what he had to say.

'What did you want, Mister Boswell?' she said, deciding to play it safe.

'What time does the DHSS close today?'

He was definitely working up to saying something- but he was taking the long way round.

'Five o'clock,' Martina droned. He knew that, he knew everything there was to know about the DHSS, surely he knew which times it closed at on which days, but she might as well play along.

Joey made a dramatic show of looking at his watch. 'Ah, quarter to. That gives me plenty of time.' He sat upright in his chair, folding his hands on the desk. 'It's our grandad, you see. He's received a rather large heating bill- again, and owing to the fact…'

And he was off again, ranting about their 'poverty' and their grandad's 'frailty' and it was just like the last few days had never happened at all. Martina became even more deeply confused, and then rather cross, because what on earth did he think he was playing at? One minute saying one thing, the next minute acting like he hadn't said it?

She was in such a flurry she handed him a form without even thinking. He took it, signed it, and shot her a wink before he strolled out.

Martina pursed her lips. Bloody Joey bloody Boswell, toying with her. Her mood was considerably damper as she packed up and stepped outside, pulling her coat round her shoulders.

'Hello again!'

She jumped, startled out of her wits and turned to see Joey leaning casually against the stair railing, looking at her with a great twinkle of amusement in his eye.

'What on earth,' Martina demanded, 'are you doing?' He was really making her cross at the moment. So much for that feeling of very nearly almost starting to quite sort of like him- she couldn't find it again when he was deliberately being enigmatic to the point of annoyance.

'I'd said I'd see you again, didn't I?' he took hold of her hand, as if he meant to kiss it, and she snatched it away before he got the chance.

'What was all that rubbish in there about your grandad?'

'That 'rubbish', as you call it, merely consists of the day-to-day worries that we, that is, my family,' he dragged out the word 'family' so it sounded like 'fam-i-ly', 'experience in our lives, which can be assuaged by the action of you writing on a little piece of paper we know as a form, and dipping your hand in the underprivileged charity box in order to provide us with the means to survive, i.e. money.'

'Do you make these speeches up as you go along or do you have them written on little cards before you come to see me?' Martina snapped.

Joey was not deterred by this snarky remark. On the contrary, his cheerful demeanour didn't waver in the slightest.

'You don't sound very happy with me, Angel,' he said blithely.

'I'm not,' she huffed, fed up with this attitude of his. Would he just get to the point, tell her what he wanted with her? 'Would you mind filling me in on what's going on? Because we seem to be on completely different pages.'

'Well, you see,' Joey folded his arms, leaning over the railing and looking out over a bleak carpark. 'I came to tell you that I…'

'You bloody two!'

The third voice cut through their almost-conversation and sent a shiver right down Martina's spine. She was supposed to be strong, but after recent events the sight (or rather sound) of Dick Wilson still set her teeth on edge. Without registering it she drew a little closer to Joey.

'I'm only gonna ask this one time,' Mister Wilson directed his snarl at her, and though she refused to let anything show on her face her insides were liquefying. 'I've come 'ere fer me money, and you're gonna give it to me now, or else!'

'Threatening me- in any manner, inside the DHSS or out,' Martina said pointedly, bravely, considering the fact that the aforementioned outside-of-the-DHSS threatening had almost resulted in something horrible happening to her and the same thing could well happen again, 'is not going to get you anywhere- the fact remains that we are closed, and even if we weren't, your second allowance has been stopped and there is nothing I can do about it!'

The look on the man's face at this made her want to cower, but she refused to let herself.

'You wasn't so brave the other night, were ya? If I remember right you ran away like the coward you was…'

He took a step forward but before anything could occur, a leather-clad arm shot protectively in front of her.

'You leave 'er alone,' Joey Boswell said, very calmly, but with a dangerous tone lacing his voice.

'Don't think I didn't notice you the other night,' Mister Wilson's aggression had changed direction, all his anger now seething in Joey's direction. 'You might think you're God almighty too, in that fancy car of yours, but just you remember whose side you're on, Joey Boswell!'

To his credit, Joey didn't even flinch.

'I'd watch it if I was you, you twonk,' Wilson continued, 'if you keep doin' things we don't like you're gonna find yourself in a very unpleasant situation yourself!'

'Oh,' Joey said, in a strange tone of voice, would-be casual, maybe even borderline would-be-cheery, were it not for the very threatening edge to it, 'well, that is a coincidence, because if I recall correctly, you were in a very unpleasant situation last week weren't you? Well, I must say, when our Shifty said he saw you coming out of the-'

'You watch it! You tell anyone about that and you're dead, Boswell, you hear me?' Mister Wilson cut him off, his face suddenly red and teeth clenched. He grabbed hold of Joey by his shirt collar and shook him, hard.

Martina stood back as she witnessed the exchange. She was unsure exactly what Joey was inferring that had enraged the already furious Wilson, but whatever it was, it certainly sounded like blackmail to her. Well, she reasoned, in the circles the Boswells moved in, they probably came across plenty of shady, blackmail-worthy situations involving themselves and others. Whatever it was, the eldest Boswell had certainly put him in a panic. Martina had seen it often enough in the DHSS- seemingly tough blokes covering up their fear with extravagant displays of anger.

'Oh, I don't think so,' Joey continued in the same voice, 'nothing'll happen to me- my fam-i-ly'll see to that…mind you, when you think about it, most of them saw what you were up to last w-'

And, to be honest, she wasn't sure whether she should be grateful to Joey for stopping Mister Wilson yet again from harming her, or disgusted at the means by which he was doing so. Fighting fire with fire, she supposed it would be called, if you wanted to get all technical with euphemisms. Two swindlers making a dubious exchange, she would call it. Either way, whatever they were talking about was certainly illegal, and she shouldn't approve of it. But he was saving her again…it was too hard trying to sort all these thoughts out.

'You're a lucky man, Joey Boswell,' Mister Wilson said at length, letting go of Joey's collar and wringing his hands. 'Lucky you've got your little sidekicks to help you out…one day you're gonna meet your downfall, and when you do, I'll be there ter gloat.'

He turned, stomping off down the stairs. 'I'll be back, you twonks!'

Martina slumped against the railing, gripping it for dear life. It embarrassed her no end that Joey Boswell seemed to be fighting her battles for her at the moment. It was exactly what she usually admonished Billy Boswell for- for letting his big, blond brother fight for him and simply hiding behind him- but that was exactly what she was doing now. Hiding behind the selfsame big, blond Boswell brother. Whom she hadn't worked out all her feelings about yet.

'You all right?'

'Hmm?' she snapped out of her trance to find Joey watching her with the utmost concern etched across his forehead.

'Are you all right, Angel?'

'Perfectly all right, Mister Boswell,' she tutted, 'just slightly confused as to what you're up to now.'

He looked pleased at this comment. 'Ah- I was just getting to that before our friend there interrupted…'

Martina folded her arms and raised one eyebrow impatiently.

Joey opened his mouth to continue but seemed to change his mind as he did so, veering towards a different approach. 'Look, can I see you again? Properly, I mean,' he added as Martina started to respond, 'I can't talk to you properly like this, just after we've been doing business and instantly after you've been threatened- it doesn't seem right. Meet me here tomorrow after you close?'

The last sentence sounded more like a plea, as if Mister Boswell was begging with her to understand some unspoken thing, and she nodded robotically.

He smiled. 'Great. I'll be on me way now- got lots of family crises to attend to…' she couldn't tell precisely whether this final remark was in jest or had an element of truth to it. She nodded again, heading down the steps herself, but Martina couldn't help pause as she reached the bottom step, her head inadvertently turning, and she found herself scanning the area in the direction that Mister Wilson had gone off in.

'He won't be back.'

Martina turned, narrowing her eyes at Joey, who stared back, unashamed at having just read her mind. She made to insist that she was stronger than that, that she wasn't at all afraid, but she couldn't bring herself to do it- the stubborn lies just stuck in her throat and wouldn't even try to make their way out.

'If he comes at you again, angel, I'll see to him.' The phrase indicated imminent or proposed violence, but his tone was so gentle it sounded like he was merely reassuring her about some loving, kind act he was offering to perform. Martina frowned.

He took a step towards her, closing the gap they'd started to make between them as they went their separate ways.

'Don't you worry about a thing, sweetheart,' Joey said softly. 'Don't you worry about a thing.' He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. 'You be my guardian angel and I'll be yours.' And he turned, leaving for his Jaguar and rendering her speechless.

Martina was stunned. Even after it was over she could still feel the tenderness in that kiss. It wasn't the most passionate or romantic gesture she'd ever experienced in her life, but the pure emotion and sweetness in it was unmistakeable, and she felt a strange, ribcage-shattering fondness for Joey Boswell at that moment.

Chapter Text

He'd managed to be a coward and back out of it again. Every time he made up his mind to do something to do with Martina, his gob seemed to freeze and he ended up doing either nothing or just a fragment of his original intention, leaving the rest of it and making him look like a right idiot. It had been the same when she first got involved with Shifty. He'd come to her with advice- advice and warnings about the Irishman, about how he'd been in jail, about his wicked ways with women, and then all he could manage to get out had been to ask, rather pathetically, whether or not he'd collected his money. He'd then kicked himself all the way home, wondering why it was that he, Joey Boswell, who always had such a way with words, hadn't been able to say what he had planned to. Then his mouth had started going around asking to see her, asking her to dinner with him, without the consent of his brain, and now it was back to seizing up and not getting on with his mind.

He'd set out with every intention to tell her how he felt, and then he hadn't. Oh, he hadn't planned to say anything in the DHSS- he knew his very ordinary visit had annoyed her, but he had made up his mind not to mix up anything outside the DHSS with anything that went on inside it- it was the only way, he'd realised, anything between them could ever work. If she was out to get him, or at the very least, if she disapproved of his methods of obtaining money, their arguments over this would undoubtedly come between them. It would be a better plan to separate the part of himself that visited the DHSS with the part that saw her, talked to her, tried to start something up with her, outside the Social Security office.

And he was going to explain all that to her when they got outside- had Mr. Wilson not interrupted them and threatened Martina yet again. He hadn't even had to think when the beefy bloke opened his gob and started spouting nasty thoughts at her- it had seemed like a natural instinct to try and protect her- just like he would have done with Roxy or Aveline or any of the others in his family. After that it just didn't seem right to try and tell her- she'd been shaken up and she didn't need to hear something so surprising right now.

He couldn't leave without giving her something, though- conveying in some way that he would watch out for her as long as she needed him to. And he'd told her so- assured her not to worry, reiterated that he'd be her guardian angel, hoping the joke might cheer her a little, and kissing her on the forehead, the way he used to do with Aveline when she was younger, and she'd come to him upset.

Joey didn't see her reaction- actually bringing himself to kiss her, albeit just on the top of her head, had made his adrenaline work double-time, and he'd panicked a little more than he cared to admit. But he made up his mind to return tomorrow, just like he'd said. He would meet her after closing time, take her somewhere private and tell her- properly, this time. He wouldn't let anything make him change his mind. He would come straight out with it and not be coy- after all, he was a Boswell. And when Boswells set their minds to something, they'd see it through.

Martina drummed her fingernails against the stair railing, impatient for Joey Boswell to turn up so she could sort this out once and for all. She was fed up with all his messing around- she didn't know what he wanted, didn't know, even what she herself wanted, but whatever it was, she just wished all this uncertainty would end and she could get things back to normal again. She'd been so preoccupied with the annoying mystery of Joey Boswell she hadn't even given Mister Wilson's new bout of aggression towards her a second thought. All she could see in her mind was Joey kissing her forehead again and again, and his words drifting around her brain- 'don't worry about a thing, sweetheart, don't worry about a thing…'

'Afternoon.'

Martina didn't realise someone was addressing her at first, let alone that it was the person she'd been waiting for- she'd been, without noticing it, straining her ears for the familiar 'Greetings!', and assumed the voice she heard was connected to someone else.

'Afternoon,' she murmured, leaning out over the railing and gazing at the maze of murky grey streets. 'You do know we're closed, don't you?'

'Well, I should hope so,' the voice said, with a little ringing laugh, and she instantly recognised him, 'wouldn't look good for business if you were just standing out here while everyone queued up for their giros, now would it?'

He nudged her with his elbow and she turned to face Joey. 'Didn't recognise you at first- without yer fancy words.'

'You mean, greetings?'

She pretended to glare at him.

'I'm thinking of getting that word patented,' Joey said.

'You didn't invent it, you know.'

'Pity, that.'

The DHSS lady sighed. 'Are we going to talk or aren't we?'

'We're talking now…'

She shot him a real glare this time and he soon stopped smirking. 'Come on, then. But not here- come for a walk with me.' He gave her a strangely pleading look and offered her his arm.

They clicked down the metal stairs together, heading in the direction of the nicer parks in the city. Out here it was quieter, slightly more colourful, a much better place, she had to admit, to have a conversation than in the Social Security, with its bleak walls and hordes of angry unemployed people.

'Go on then,' she said, sitting down on a bench with him following suit. 'Talk.'

Joey opened his mouth to proceed.

'Er- none of your fancy royal family worthy speeches, please, Mister Boswell,' she interrupted before a sound escaped him, 'get straight to the point and explain simply.'

'Well, first of all- are you all right?'

'I think we've been through that bit,' she growled. 'To the point.' She was used to his poetic ramblings, soliloquies and all sorts, telling a very roundabout story to either confuse her to the point of giving in or build up a sad, pathetic tale, but never had Joey Boswell been so…awkward when it came to spitting something out.

'I've been worried about you,' Joey said.

'I noticed, yeah.'

'And after everything that's happened recently, it's made me realise something.'

'Realise what?'

Joey seemed on the verge of completing the sentiment and finally filling her in on what he was thinking when he stopped, wringing his hands together. His brow furrowed and he gazed off past her into the distance.

'I still haven't got you figured out,' Martina scrutinised his face. 'What you want from me.'

Her statement seemingly snapping him back into the here and now and triggering him to make a decision, Joey shifted in his seat, putting one hand on her knee. 'Oh, Martina. Do you need me to spell it out?'

Martina had tensed up when he touched her, but she nodded anyway. He leaned forward slowly, bringing his face very close to hers and kissing her gently. The DHSS lady's eyes fluttered shut and her breath hitched. It was a very strange experience, kissing Joey Boswell, not fiery or passionate or horrifying- it was just a very simple, normal, natural sensation. And that's why she felt no hesitation in kissing him back.

When Joey pulled back, he was smiling. 'Spell it out well enough, sweetheart?'

And that's when the reality of what he had just done- what she had just done hit her. Joey Boswell had kissed her. And she had kissed him back.

Now that couldn't be right.

Joey sat back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, a newspaper sitting ready but unread in his hands. Around him came the familiar noises of home, his Mam clattering about in the kitchen, preparing the dinner, Billy and Adrian squabbling, Jack plonking crate after crate of oranges in the house and muttering under his breath about being duped again. All comforting noises. Not that he needed comforting, he was all right, just fine. He was just…well, he was just…er…

He'd left for the DHSS that morning with the intention to tell Martina straight out how he felt, in a very clear, concise sentence. He hadn't. He'd become choked up again- and him a quick-witted, silver-tongued Boswell, too. Joey had come to the conclusion the only way he was ever going to get around to expressing his feelings was to act, and before he could think about it and work himself into a state of panic- which would inevitably end in him doing nothing again. So he'd given up trying to speak, moved in close and shown her instead.

He'd worried, even as he did so, about how she would take it- half of him anticipating a slap in the face for his efforts. But she wasn't resistant in the least, she'd let him do it- she'd even kissed him back. And for a minute, the two contrasting thoughts of she's all right with it, everything's going to be fine, and she's the DHSS lady, what am I doing? were twisting around each other in his head like a double helix.

Even so, he hadn't been able to keep the soppy smile off his face when they broke apart. 'Spell it out well enough sweetheart?' he'd asked in his most charming voice.

Martina had given him a small smile- a shy one- it was so unlike her to be shy- and then she'd bitten her lip.

'You okay?'

She'd looked at him, and then at her feet. Her shoulders had heaved as she'd breathed slowly,trying to calm herself down.

'Course,' she said, but her turmoil was written all over her face.

Joey had begun to wonder if he'd done the right thing. 'I'm
sorry, sweetheart, I got carried away- I won't mention-'

She'd held up her hand to stop him. 'Don't…apologise, Mister Boswell,' she'd said, and her use of his full name had disheartened him further, 'I just…don't be offended if I ask you for time to think about this.'

'I won't, sweetheart,' he'd reassured her, lightly putting his hand on her shoulder. 'I won't. Have as much time as you like.'

He moved to stand and she caught him by the arm. 'I'm not saying I don't…or won't…you just need to understand that I have stuff to think through…a lot to think through.'

'Of course,' he'd nodded kindly, understandingly. Of course she'd have a lot to think about- he'd sprung this on her, and he'd never exactly been her favourite person- it would be surprising to find out someone that antagonised you on a daily basis harboured feelings for you. It was only reasonable to want time.

He'd given her another friendly smile. 'See you later, angel.' And he'd started on his way home.

'Mister Boswell!' He'd gotten about three steps. Joey turned back. She was standing on the path, her curls blowing about her face, watching him. 'When are you next coming to the DHSS?'

He'd paused. 'Er… I don't know. I think Thursday's me day to sign on.'

'Come and talk to me then. That'll give me plenty of time.'

He'd jerked his head in assent, given her a little wave and continued on his way. Now he was back at home, with matters even less settled than they'd been before. He'd thought discussing this with Martina would sort everything out- he should have known it wasn't that simple. He'd been an idiot, on par with Billy, to rush into something like that, just because he'd helped her out of a sticky situation and had dinner with her once. Of course she'd be uncertain; of course she wouldn't just accept his feelings in an instant, not after everything that had occurred between them. Not after all the times he'd driven her insane from the other side of the Social Security partition, not after all the trouble he'd caused her.

Thursday was two days away- well, less than that now, but he couldn't help thinking that was nearly enough time for someone to make up their mind after all that. If she intended to at all- perhaps she had already made it, and was trying to be kind- that or she couldn't think of how to tell him she wasn't interested. Whatever Martina was thinking, Joey felt a sense of dread about signing on. He couldn't even put it off- the set time had to be honoured- as Martina always said, if you're getting something for nothing, you obey the rules.

Well, it was no good sitting around thinking about it. There was nothing Joey could do at this precise moment in time- he might as well make himself useful and take his mind off the whole messy affair for the time being. He tossed his paper onto the coffee table, stretched his arms over his head and stood up, wandering toward the kitchen and the smell of the evening meal.

'Good timing, our Joey,' Nellie said warmly, placing dishes on the table with a clatter as her eldest son took his usual spot. 'I don't know where the rest of that lot are.'

'They'll be here, Mam,' Joey murmured, 'they'll be here.'

'Probably being led astray by that Shifty!' his mother estimated viciously, clinking ladles into each of the serving dishes.

'Just a minute, what have I done wrong now?'

The Boswell cousin was standing in the kitchen doorway, a ruffianish look of innocence on his face.

'Oh, so you admit, you've done something wrong, have you?' Nellie Boswell was revving up to one of her fits of ridiculous anger. Joey reached over in haste and put his hand on her arm.

'It's okay, Mam. Nothing's happened. Now sit down, Shifty.'

Shifty strode across the room and took his seat.

'No, not there!' Nellie growled, and the Irishman tossed down the fork he'd picked up and moved one place to the left. Ever since Jack had come home and reclaimed his usual spot, Nellie had been on a campaign to prevent Shifty sitting in her son's place. The offshoot of the Boswell family was now sitting in the middle of the row, in the place so frequently vacated by their dad and, unfortunately, directly next to Joey.

Not that Joey had all that much against Shifty, spare a strong disapproval for the Irishman's desire to go through life nicking things, but he didn't particularly want to sit beside a man whose fingers had several times 'instinctively' crept towards his wallet and tried to remove pound notes from it.

'So, did you talk to M-' Shifty began, and Joey was quick to hush him up. The rest of the family were starting to amble their way towards the kitchen table now, and the last thing he wanted was for them all to know about what he had been up to, and for Billy to start making insensitive remarks about the whole thing.

'Ah, fear not, lad,' Shifty said in a somewhat quieter voice, giving Joey a very obvious and unnerving wink, 'your secret's safe with me.'

Joey cast his eyes upwards in frustration.

'Secrets? 'oo's tellin' secrets?' Billy said very loudly, reaching the table first and immediately snatching up the best-looking potatoes.

'Billy!' Nellie snapped, and the youngest member of the family, a roast potato sticking out his mouth, guiltily let it drop onto his plate. 'After prayers!'

The family all settled down, hands clasped.

'We thank Thee, O God, for the food on the table, the money in our pockets…'

Joey had his eyes tightly shut as his mother led the evening's worship, keeping his thoughts firmly focused on the prayer and repeating each word Nellie said in his head, lest another thought tried to creep in there and distract him. A difficult task, he found, since the man next to him was elbowing him every second or two.

After the 'Amen' had been said and repeated, Joey opened his eyes and immediately turned, irritated, to his cousin, who gave him another very obvious wink.

The eldest Boswell rolled his eyes and turned his attention to depositing money into the pot.

'Eh, what's all this winkin'?' Billy asked, his mouth full, as the chicken lid was placed back on the pot and the others began dishing themselves dinner.

'What winking?' Adrian glanced up for a moment, and then returned to the sprouts he was pouring on the plate, desperate to get some of the decent ones before Billy and Shifty between them devoured most of what was edible.

'I think Joey and Shifty are tryin' to communicate,' Billy said, shovelling peas until he had a mountain before him.

Joey assumed his best Billy-you're-just-being-stupid expression. 'Bill-y! If we wanted to communicate we'd talk to each other, now shut it and eat your dinner.'

'Is this about that secret our Shifty mentioned earlier?'

'There's no secret, son!' Joey said with a rather unconvincing laugh, which nonetheless pacified his little brother. 'Now how'd it go with Julie today?'

Billy immediately launched into a rant, mainly consisting of she says her solicitor said and she's got my child in that house and I'm not ready for all this, and Joey sat back in his chair, relieved he had an hour or four now to eat his meal before any more interrogations could happen.

He chewed on a piece of carrot, his mind all over the place, his eyes sort of drifting towards Billy as if he were actually paying some shred of attention.

'And she said she was entitled to it!' Billy shouted, the emotion in his rant getting to the level at which he felt it necessary to slam his fist on the table and leap to his feet. His latest outburst forced Joey's attention to snap back to the present meal. 'She's not entitled to it, is she?'

Nobody bothered to reply- all were slipping back into their previous conversations or casually eating and ignoring the dramatic lad.

'I said she's not entitled to it- is she, Joey?' Billy repeated, catching his eldest brother looking in his general direction and pouncing on this.

'You sort it out, son,' Joey said smoothly, as if he had been listening the whole time and had come to this conclusion, 'it's your marriage, you take it up with her.'

'Hear hear,' Jack called from the other end of the dinner table, 'and not with us!'

'No-one cares about a word I say in this 'ouse!' Billy slammed his head onto his folded arms.

'Well, that's over with,' Shifty said cheerfully, earning a vicious glare from Nellie which caused him to shrink back and shut his mouth.

'When Oswald and I get married,' Aveline piped up, 'we won't be always talkin' about solicitors all the time- we'll be happy! And 'ave a lit'le house and white washin' an…'

'You won't be happy!' came Billy's muffled voice from where he'd buried his head. 'Happiness in marriage is a…legend!'

'You mean myth, Billy,' Adrian corrected. 'You don't say something is a legend, you say it's a myth…'

'Oh yeah, you think you're so clever, don't you!' he was out of his dudgeon and on his feet again. 'Just 'cause you've got A-levels, and you've got a couple of poxy poems published and you used to have a real-estate job, you think that makes you an expert on life, do you? Well I'VE GOT A BABY, I'VE GOT ME OWN BUSINESS, AND I'M IN A DIVORCE, SO-'

Joey felt it was high time he broke up this rant- it wasn't exactly doing his headache and inner dilemmas and favours. 'Bill-y!' he said, in that way only he could manage that actually stopped the youngest Boswell in his tantrumy tracks.

Sure enough, all the shouting stopped.

'Why,' Joey said quietly, 'don't you forget about all that- just for a moment!- and eat yer dinner. Okay?'

Billy flopped back down into his chair. The rest of the continued scoffing as if nothing had happened, and Joey spent the rest of the dinner toying with his food and pondering all the messy situations he'd gotten himself into in the past week or so.

He did return on Thursday, as promised, striding in with a little less of his usual arrogant confidence. Although it went against his very principles to follow the rules to the letter, he tried nothing devious, but meekly took his ticket from the dispenser on the wall and sat down with the rest of the claimants. He looked at the number on his little slip- 47. Forty-seven. He frowned. He needed to get to Martina's desk, and he wasn't entirely sure, from the way the numbers were being called, that he wouldn't end up in front of one of the other clerks. And today, more than anything, he needed to get to her.

'Number forty-five!' Martina called. Joey dratted under his breath. That would mean he was at the next window. He got to his feet, intending to stealthily make his way towards the machine and grab number 48, when another client clomped in, snapped it out of the dispenser and sat down. Joey dratted again, and then changed his plan. Putting his most charming smile on, he crossed the room and settled into the chair next to the woman who'd taken the ticket.

'Excuse me, sweetheart,' he began, turning on the extra charisma for effect, 'would you like to go next?'

The woman fixed him with a suspicious gaze.

'I mean it,' Joey said, waving his own ticket in front of her nose, so she could clearly see the four-seven printed on it.

'Why?'

'Let's just say I'm feelin' generous,' Joey replied, 'need a little more time to collect me thoughts before I approach that daunting counter…do you want the earlier ticket or not?'

Persuaded there wasn't any sort of catch, the woman swapped with him, and Joey sat back in his chair, looking, pleased, at his new ticket and keeping one ear out as number forty-six was called, then forty-seven. Soon enough, Martina's client was snatching up forms and stalking away, Martina was scribbling down the remnants of the conversation, and then the word 'Next!' was issuing from her mouth and across the room.

And suddenly Joey's feet wouldn't move. He stood slowly, forcing them forward, feeling like they were blocks of lead on the ends of his legs. It probably didn't take any longer than usual, in fact he probably didn't look any different on the outside at all, but to him the short journey from the waiting chairs to the desk was long and dizzying.

He forced his mouth into its normal shape. 'Greetings!'

'Afternoon, Mister Boswell,' she said in her normal tone of voice, as if nothing had ever happened, and Joey didn't know what to think. 'Haven't you found any work yet?'

'Tell me where, sweetheart,' he said, in the same way, as if nothing had ever happened to him either, 'tell me where.' It was the same every week. They both knew he would never find any work, knew he'd never even try. It had just sort of become a routine. And why break with tradition, after all?

She made her customary tutting noise and slid the usual form over the counter to him. And he got out his gold pen, clicked the top so it proceeded to sing and drew a masterpiece of a signature on the bottom of the paper to the tune of 'London Bridge.' All the ordinary, everyday sort of stuff.

Joey made his signature take longer than normal, because after his pen left the page, what then? Was she going to say anything? And if so, what?

Oh, pull yourself together, son! Joey's logical self tried to tell the parts of his mind that were going to pieces. Stay calm, stop bein' ridiculous! You're not like this.

He pushed the form back to her at a glacial pace, his head in a fog, and she took it, holding it up as though to check it. He couldn't see her face. He couldn't tell what she was thinking. And then she lowered it slowly.

'Joey,' she said quietly. He paused. She never called him Joey, never. It was always 'Mister Boswell.' He tried not to make too much of this. He tried not to think about whether this meant she was trying to let him down lightly or if it meant she…

'Look, angel,' he leaned in close, not wanting any of the other people in the DHSS to hear, 'I am sorry about all this…awkwardness. I get carried away sometimes, tend to just…say what I feel, and I know you don't feel the same way, but…'

'Joey,' she said again, more sharply this time, cutting him off. 'Will you shut that gob of yours for a moment and listen to me?'

Joey obediently closed his mouth.

'Just supposing,' she began. Joey went to speak again and she silenced him with an icy glare.

'Just-supposing,' Martina repeated through her teeth, raising one hand threateningly in case he attempted to speak again. 'That you meant what you said the other day…and just supposing I considered the notion that I might, in fact, possibly have some kind of feeling for you other than a rage triggered by your ridiculous claims…'

Joey didn't dare smile in case she thought he was poking fun- and that was the last thing he wanted when it sounded like they might be getting somewhere. He just nodded solemnly.

'And just supposing I made up my mind based on…that feeling I might possibly have- just supposing, mind,' she added as Joey's self-control lost the battle and the smile emerged anyway, 'and then you decided to start messin' around, or acting like your bloody cousin, the so-called Shifty, or try anything stupid or reckless or…unsavoury…' she leaned very close to him now and lowered her voice a tone or two. 'Then I would not hesitate to tear your throat out, is that in any way not clear?'

Joey looked directly at her eyes, which flashed with something he couldn't give a name to, and nodded again. 'It's perfectly clear,' he said sincerely, not even adding a pet name to the end of his sentence for fear it would lose some of its seriousness.

And then she let the corners of her mouth shift, turning into a smile- a proper one that reached her eyes, and Joey let his own Cheshire grin spread. In light of what she'd just said, he felt perfectly justified in reaching his hand across and running it through her hair, leaning forward to kiss her through the partition-

'Not in the DHSS, Mister Boswell,' she said, leaning back a little. 'Now on your bike-or in your Jaguar, if you'd prefer. Unlike some people, I've got a lot of work to get on with.'

Joey laughed, sliding his chair back and standing up. 'Shall I see you later, then?'

'You might,' Martina replied, her smile morphing into a smirk. 'Now go on. Next!'

Mister Boswell left the DHSS with all his worries soaring out ahead of him and away. At that moment it seemed like everything would be all right.

Chapter Text

They went to the hill in Otterspool that afternoon. Martina hadn't been there since Shifty had taken her a couple of months ago, and she had offered to let him move in with her. She shuddered at the idea now- she had almost cohabited with that horrible, deceitful Irishman- and now she knew what he truly was- a lazy user of women- she was glad he hadn't gone through with it.

She'd gone through with something else completely now. It had taken Martina some agonising sleepless nights to sift through all the Joey Boswell-related feelings in her head and try and arrange them into some sort of order. It shouldn't have been difficult, she'd reasoned. If she hated Joey Boswell, as she originally thought, she would have been able to tell him so and that would have been that. But she'd gotten to thinking about all those times in the DHSS when she'd been unable to stop herself smirking after he'd left, amused in spite of herself at his antics, even though she wanted to be infuriated at them. About all the times when he'd said something deliberately silly and she'd made a snarky comment back- there were several times when she'd felt like they were flirting, and she'd been annoyed about that. But nonetheless, they had been- and that had been confirmed, she realised, by their conversation in his car after dinner.

And of course, embarrassing as it was, there was that admission she had to make to herself-that when she'd first met Joey Boswell, she'd fancied him a little bit. Or rather, more than a little bit. Rather a lot. That was before- when she was new at the job and he'd attempted to charm her. Then, of course, she'd gotten to know him and that had evaporated. Or at least she thought it had, til she looked back on everything she'd just considered, and when she realised, thinking about her most recent encounters with Joey, that she hadn't really gotten to know him- not properly. She just saw the shop-front of superficiality- but ever so often glimpses of another Joey Boswell would poke through. And that Joey Boswell was very, very intriguing to her.

Which brought her to that particular side of him. The one that had helped her out when she was in trouble. The one that had appeared when she'd been devastated by Shifty's treacherous behaviour, and comforted her to some extent. It was this side of him that had stopped her from flatly rejecting Joey Boswell's advances, that had made her stop to think twice about him. It was a side of him she wouldn't mind seeing more of, part of him that interested her. The fact that there was more to him than a shallow scouse, attempting to look sophisticated and full of his own self-importance, wouldn't dislodge itself from her brain.

The more she examined this, the more things she started to consider. Like the way he, although resorting to questionable means, was determined to take care of his family. She couldn't say much for the luxurious lifestyle they tried to keep at the expense of the state- but there was something to be said for doing the best you could for the people you loved, even if your notion of the right thing was more than a tad skewed.

And all of these had planted the idea in her mind that perhaps, just perhaps, she should see where this went. So, after a lot of befuddling conversation, she'd found herself admitting to Joey, with rather a great deal of hesitation and several threats, that she did reciprocate his feelings, at least to some extent.

And here she was now. With him.

They were half-sitting, half-laying in the grass on the hill now, staring at the view and chatting idly, and Martina was again astounded at how easy she found it to talk to him- leave finance, struggling families and the Department of Health and Social Security out of the picture and he could be just a comfortable friend.

'It's funny,' she sighed, rolling a piece of grass between her fingers, 'there's no accounting for feelings, is there? I mean, after the…last time,' she couldn't quite bring herself to mention Shifty while sitting here with Joey, 'I vowed I'd make absolutely certain the next person I saw was a decent, nice person before I committed meself.'

Joey propped himself up on his elbow and looked at her, 'but then you met me and you didn't have to make sure, because I'm so nice it goes without saying…'

He was doing that Cheshire-cat face at her again.

'Oh no you're not- you're horrid.' He raised his eyebrows before she continued. 'You, Joey Boswell, are a bad lot of the first order.'

'Oh?'

'Like I said, there's no accounting for feelings.' He chuckled then, leaning over and kissing her once.

'Well, at least I'm not pretentious about it.'

Martina gave a disbelieving scoff. 'Oh yes? What about your starving family, who have no money for a crust of bread but can somehow afford a whole fleet of cars? You think that's not pretentious?'

'I meant,' he said, reaching out and toying with a strand of her hair, 'at least I know I'm a bad lot.'

'Oh, good,' Martina said flatly.

'That's why I'm so good for you.'

It was her turn to raise her eyebrows. 'Is it indeed? And why is that?'

'Because,' Joey said, kissing her again, 'you, sweetheart, are a good one. We balance each other out.'

Martina studied Joey's eyes. There was a hint of laughter in them, a few beginnings of lines around the edges, a few little sparkles in the irises, but there seemed to be a raw honesty there too. There were so many things about Joey Boswell that seemed to bubble beneath the surface of his suave façade, different facets of his personality she wouldn't mind learning more about. Occasionally he would make some deep remark and everything she thought she knew about him would change in front of her very eyes.

Joey shifted the two of them so she was leaning comfortably against his chest, one of his arms around her shoulders, the other reaching around to brush through her hair. That was something she was finding she liked about him- Joey had a way of making them feel very close, constantly touching her face, her hair, kissing her forehead. It didn't feel lecherous or uncomfortable the way contact often did, just affectionate and sincere- so different from every relationship she'd been in before. He was so different from anyone she'd met before, come to think of it. She despised him and at the same time she didn't, she wanted to be with him and at the same time it unnerved her.

'So what do we do now?' she said after a time. She felt him shrug and press another kiss to the top of her head.

'What do you mean, 'what do we do'? We'll do…whatever we do.'

'You're talking in riddles again.'

His laughter vibrated into her shoulder.

'You came here with Shifty, didn't you?' Joey said after another pause.

''ow'd you know that?'

Joey shrugged. 'We-ell, apart from the fact that everybody brings everybody special here…'

Martina wondered whether she should be flattered by this insinuation or not.

'…he told me about you two.'

She shifted out of his arms to turn and look directly at his face. 'Oh, he did, did he?'

'Not all the gory details or anything,' he pacified her, 'I didn't know every last thing about what went on between you, only that there was something going on- and you confirmed that when you started goin' on about your heartbreak…' He stopped suddenly, realising that what he was saying wasn't all that tactful. 'Sorry, sweetheart, I was just thinkin' aloud. I didn't mean to say anythin' that might upset you.'

'Oh, it doesn't matter,' Martina muttered, lying back in the grass and putting her hands behind her head. 'I don't know what I was thinking at the time- I spent all those years steeling myself against your glittery words- and then I fell instantly for his without a second thought.'

'Aha- so you had to steel yourself against me, eh?' he looked incredibly pleased at this thought. 'And there I was, worried that my efforts to touch your heart were in vain…and all the time you were inwardly swoonin' at my words.'

Martina rolled her eyes. 'Don't flatter yourself, Joey.'

'Flatter meself?' he laughed. 'If I were merely 'flatterin' meself' you wouldn't be here now- would you?'

'Believe it or not, I'm not here because of your fancy vocabulary.'

'No?' he leaned over her, indulging in another kiss before continuing, 'if not my 'fancy vocabulary', as you call it, what then?'

Martina tutted. She wasn't entirely sure she could explain- the emotions were still all so complicated. Every so often a sudden shudder of an I'm not sure I do want to be here swept across her consciousness, but she suppressed it.

'What did I just say? There's no accounting for feelings, now don't make me say it again.' She sounded like she was telling off a naughty child, and Joey seemed to find this amusing.

'So,' Martina said, 'what about you, then?'

Joey's brow furrowed. 'What about me?'

'You know all about my disastrous encounters with love- what about yours?'

She raised herself up so her face was level with his, 'who was it that broke your heart?'

Joey shifted uncomfortably and it astounded Martina that one question could do that- silence him, make him stop to contemplate. Should have tried asking that years ago, she thought just a little snidely to herself. Whole forests could have been saved- the amount of Boswell-related paperwork would have been effectively diminished.

'Well,' he began, wringing his hands together, 'er…it's a little complicated.'

'Comes as no surprise,' Martina said, 'nothing connected to you is simple- you can't even live in your own house, you have to have a switched-over rent system just to infuriate us…'

Joey smiled at her sadly.

'You said she got married?' she prompted.

'That she did,' Joey replied. 'I suppose in some respects-well, a lot- it was my fault she left. She…' he really was struggling to find the words, something that amazed Martina. That was the second incident in a row in which Mister Boswell hadn't been able to instantly compose a flowing speech. 'She, ah, well, I…I didn't pay enough attention to her, I don't think.'

Martina nodded for him to continue.

'Everythin' else came first- especially me family- it were just bad timin', but they all 'ad crises around the same time, and always when I'd set time aside to be with her…in the end she got fed up of waitin' for me.'

Martina wondered if he was saying this as a warning of some sort- that she could expect him to drop everything for his family when it came down to it. She found herself wondering what she would do in that situation- although, just at this moment, she couldn't see herself caring too much. Joey and the Boswells were sort of a package deal- couldn't mention one without the other soon following. There were days when she had been convinced he was the shallowest human being alive, and then she would remember his overwhelming love for his family, his desire to do anything for them, even if he did skate around the outskirts of the law, and it would slightly raise her opinion of him.

Of course, she hadn't been faced with such a situation yet, so she refrained from deciding how she would react.

'And then she married someone else,' she finished his story for him. Joey nodded.

'Yeah, but I didn't know at the time. Came back about a year ago, you know,' he said. Martina raised her eyebrows. She hadn't heard this bit before.

'Oh yeah?'

'Yeah. As soon as I saw her I was stupid enough to think things might go back to the way they were- saw her a couple o' times- I didn't know about her husband, though!' he held up his hands before Martina could pass any sort of judgement, not that she was planning to. 'I knew somethin' wasn't quite right, though- she kept sayin' things were too nice for our own good. Eventually she told me. Don't, Joey, she said. Why, I said. Because I'm married, she said, that's why.'

He looked sadly down at his hands.

'I'm sorry,' Martina said, for want of any better response.

'And that still weren't it,' Joey said, a dry laugh in his voice. 'It gets worse.'

Her eyes widened. 'Worse?'

'Her husband found out.'

'Oh.'

'Yeah.' He recounted the incident with Yizzel and his mate for her, in which they had phoned Roxy's husband, paying particular attention to the details of the fur coat incident.

'And then, o' course, he went for t'other bloke instead o' me!' Joey said, his face alight now with the memory, making her laugh. There had been a few details she wasn't sure whether to believe- particularly the ones in which Joey had seemingly refused to take part in shady activity and had put himself at risk because of it- but despite her uncertainty about his part in those escapades, she was finding herself growing fonder of him.

She rested her head against his shoulder, still smiling. 'How is it, Joey Boswell, that you manage to avoid every sort of trouble in this world? Every time a sticky situation arises, you come out of it unscathed- did you and St. Peter make some sort of pact when you were born?'

'I wouldn't say unscathed,' Joey said, 'I did get me heart broke, you know.'

She couldn't argue with that.

'And there's still more.'

Martina shook her head. She'd often joked to herself when Joey came into the DHSS that his life was like a soap opera, with the amount of problems he and the family seemed to constantly be facing, and she was beginning to wonder whether all of it had been as exaggerated as she'd thought.

'Well, then,' he was beginning to find it easier to tell the tale, his voice lightening as he tried to highlight his own stupidity, make it a little humorous, 'a couple o' months after that I was just mindin' me own business, thinkin' about how lovely it was to be me and have a lovely Jag…'

'Tsk.'

'And she got into the car- she looked terrible. One o' her eyes was blacked- he'd been knockin' her about.'

Martina drew a sharp breath.

'Yeah- anyway, I started seein' her again- I was worried about her, you see, and then…' he swallowed. 'I thought I was doin' the right thing, you know, helpin' her out, but it sort of…'

'Her marriage didn't last, did it?'

'Not exactly.'

'Then what? I should imagine if her marriage broke down you would have been free to…'

'Well, it wasn't that simple…' he went on and Martina found herself thinking again how much like a soap opera the whole thing was. It seemed like they could be together and then it turned out she had two children and didn't tell him, she lost one of them, then it seemed like one of the children might be his, and then it turned out the girl was trying to get at him by sending a poison pen letter…

'Are you sure you're not making this up?'

Joey looked hurt and she regretted she'd said anything.

'Sorry.' She put her hand on his arm. 'Forget that.'

He gazed down at her, an unnameable expression on her face, and ran one hand through her hair. 'No sweat, sweetheart. It's in the past.' He put his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her head. 'It's in the past.'

They said nothing for a while.

'Joey,' Martina said slowly, 'just out of interest- why…' she wasn't sure exactly just how to arrange the words she wanted. 'When…'

'When did I start fancying you, you mean?'

'Not necessarily how I would have phrased that question,' Martina said, 'but that is the general idea of what I was trying to say.'

'Who knows, sweetheart?' Joey said obnoxiously cryptically, and she remembered why she so often wanted to hit him, 'who knows?'

She elbowed him.

'In all honesty, I don't know,' he admitted. 'It was a very gradual thing, Angel. I just found I preferred talkin' to you than any of the other DHSS ladies- and you must have known I found you attractive, I told you several times…I don't think it really hit me until I thought you were in trouble. I just couldn't stop thinking about you, what might happen to you, you know…'

Martina listened intently, nodding. It was still odd to her, all this sincerity, all this discussion with Joey Boswell about things other than financial gain and the promise of more financial gain and possible hindrances to financial gain. Especially when the discussion was explicitly about her. Especially when the discussion was about how he, Joey Boswell, had feelings for her, Martina, the DHSS lady who had sought his downfall.

'What I don't understand, though,' Joey said, pulling away to look right into her eyes, 'is why you- you're a good person, you despise what I do, and yet you still-'

She opened her mouth.

'And don't say 'there's no accountin' fer feelin's', sweetheart. The truth- you don't just pity me, do you?'

And now he was sounding insecure. This was just so unlike him. She snorted.

'Pity you? Do you think if I pitied you I would still try an' stop you gettin' all that money?'

She had made another dig at him, but the comment still seemed to make him happy. He grinned, and his twinkling eyes and cheerful expression, instead of making her want to tear her hair out and throw forms at him, made her smile back. She took hold of his hand.

'Come on,' Joey said, looking at his gold watch. 'I'd better get you home before it gets dark.'

He stood, pulling her to her feet with him, and they headed back to where his luxury car was waiting.

Chapter Text

The days went by rather quickly- so much was occupying Joey's mind. His family had observed that he was going about smiling soppily, but save Shifty, none of them knew the cause. And, unlike certain other members of his family (namely Billy) who were likely to have blurted it out had they known, his cousin was far too busy arguing with Celia to take all that much notice.

The Boswells were in the midst of another chaotic lunch now, and though the different battles raged about them – more than usual, and an even more angry Nellie than normal, as Freddie had decided today was a good day to 'just pass',- Joey, cutting a swathe through a plate of scouse, was busy reflecting on just how fortunate he was, just how good life was at this point in time. It had only been a week, but every day he had spent with Martina had made him incredibly happy.

Of course, it hadn't all been pleasant- it was, he had to admit, rather difficult to separate their budding relationship from their encounters in the DHSS, and he found himself overstepping the line far too often. And then there were also Martina's moods to cope with- he'd known it must be tough to work in the DHSS, but he hadn't realised just how stressful her job was. Sometimes he'd come to see her and she just wouldn't be in the mood- she'd have seen one too many ratty clients and his antics and teases would just frustrate her. And sometimes, just sometimes, she'd make some jibe about his family and rub him up the wrong way. They'd already had three rows, but Joey found he'd rather have it that way. He knew enough about relationships to know that often, when you first met someone, the first little while would be such a loved-up stage that you would be completely unaware of the other person's faults, and they of yours, and when that ended you would be so disillusioned the whole thing would fall apart. Just look at Billy and Julie. Shifty and Celia. Shifty and just about everyone. Adrian and Carmen- who, once the initial stage wore off, was only interested in one thing, and criticised Adrian at every turn. And of course his own parents.

He and Martina were already aware of each other's faults- she was especially aware of his, anyway, and had been all along. And every time she got annoyed at him he took a mental note, tried to memorise what had triggered it, so he could avoid it or work through it in future.

All in all though, despite the few flaws, the few arguments and all the secrecy, which made things rather difficult at times, Joey was extremely pleased with the way things were working out. Being around Martina made him so happy- so very happy.

'Aw, hey, look at our Joey,' Aveline said lovingly, and he glanced up. Pretty much everyone else in the family was at each other's throats, about three fights going at once, and he and Aveline alone were sitting calmly in the midst of it. 'Everyone around here's all rowin' and bein' depressed, and all emotionally affected because of love- and Joey doesn't get mixed up in all o' that. He just sits there all quiet and composed and doesn't bother about things.'

If only you knew, Princess. If only you knew.

The thought brought a smile to his face.

It was a very difficult feat indeed, trying to start something with someone on whom the collapse of the Social Security could probably be wholly blamed. It had been bad enough with Shifty, when he had publically announced things about his empty heart and what might have been between them, to cope with the disapproval of blurring the line between work and relationships, but if anyone found out about Joey she felt it would be much worse. There would be speculation about her doing him favours and him using her to get more money (she had occasionally woken abruptly in the middle of the night wondering if he might be, although when she weighed this up against everything that had happened in the last few weeks she felt disinclined to agree with this notion) and she just didn't think she could handle that. Not just now, anyway.

Joey hadn't told his family either. She couldn't say she minded that too much- even if Joey wasn't going to take advantage of their more-than-friendly state, she wasn't so sure the others wouldn't, and if they all started coming in here pestering her and using Joey's attachment to her as an excuse to bleed the state even drier than it already was she would not be at all pleased. In fact, their lack of knowledge about the situation made her rather pleased.

Martina hadn't deluded herself into thinking that Joey, in a bout of sympathy for her, would refrain from annoying her no end during DHSS hours- and she had been right not to do so. If anything, he had become even more obnoxious when it came to signing on, taunting her and teasing her until she smacked him with the forms.

Today he had heard about a new allowance scheme the DHSS was offering, for which the Boswells certainly did not qualify, and was trying to convince her- whether really or in jest she wasn't sure- that the sheer size of his family was reason enough for her to hand over a form. Which it wasn't. Seeing as the allowance was supposed to be for people suffering from cardiovascular disease, to cover medical costs.

'But isn't that an excellent reason?'

Martina just smirked. 'No.'

Joey tried a different approach. He adopted his saddest expression. 'You wouldn't want to see us starve, would you?'

'Yes,' Martina said. 'Not likely, but I wouldn't say I'd mind…'

'Oh, come on, sweetheart,' Joey leaned further over the desk. 'You wouldn't want to see me suffer, would you? You don't want to see poor Joey reduced to buying imitation leather, do you?'

The DHSS lady lost it at that. The snigger that she had been trying so hard to contain freed itself, and she laughed into her hands. Bloody Boswell, why did he have to keep having such an effect on her? She was supposed to be pretending to hate him while she was working, but he knew just how to annoy her enough that it became funny, endearing, almost.

'Oh, no,' she said overdramatically, in a mockery of his whole approach to money-scrounging, 'whatever would you do?'

'Now you see my dire circumstances!' Joey exclaimed, grinning too. 'You'll simply have to see to it that my fam-i-ly gets…'

'Not on your life,' she cut him off. They looked at each other, trying to stare the other down like in the good old days, but neither had the self-restraint to keep a straight face for more than half a second.

Martina knew this would have to stop sooner or later. This public flirting could not be good for their secrecy cause, let alone for her job, and every time they met outside the Social Security office they would reprimand each other for breaking their pact to keep business and their relationship separate. And then every time Joey came in again, the same thing would happen.

'I'd spend the money on responsible things,' Joey said. 'Food for me starvin' relatives, you know…not a single penny on parts fer me car…'

'I'll believe that the day I see it!' she leaned very close to him, 'and you've got no excuse fer yer deceit now- 'cause I've seen what you spend your money on, Mister Boswell, I know how you operate outside the DHSS. You can't fool me any more…'

'Oh.' The eldest Boswell said obnoxiously, 'I thought I never did in the first place…'

'Well, no, you didn't, but I meant…'

'So I did fool you- and here I was all along thinking you were so clever…' he pretended to sigh.

'That wasn't what I meant!'

Joey just mock-tutted and shook his head.

'It wasn't!' she insisted, glaring at him. Her glare couldn't last all that long though. If she even let her eyes wander near that obnoxiously cocky smile she would lose all restraint. 'Mister Boswell,' she said significantly, causing him to wipe the smirk off his face and take her seriously.

'Kindly remember that this is the DHSS office- and I have a job to do.'

He nodded. 'Of course, sweetheart. Of course. I knew that.'

Martina rolled her eyes.

'I've been thinking,' Joey said at dinner that night. Martina exaggerated a look of surprise.

'Another speech?'

'No,' he replied, smiling. He reached across the table and took hold of her hand, just like he had that first time she went out with him, and wondered if this gesture was always going to be connected to some sort of ambiguous favour he wanted from her. She fixed him with a half-believing half-smile.

'Well,' Joey began, and took a deep breath. 'You see, in my brilliant wisdom, I have decided…'

'Er- I thought you said this wasn't a speech?'

Joey snickered. 'Oh, it's not, sweetheart, it's not. Just windin' you up.'

She narrowed her eyes.

'Anyway,' Joey sighed, getting back on track, 'I've been thinkin' and- I want to tell me family.'

Martina blinked. 'Tell your family?'

'About us.'

The DHSS lady was rendered speechless for a moment. She hadn't seen that coming. She sat there, trying to drag two thoughts together and form a sentence, but she just couldn't work out what to say. She realised after a few seconds that her mouth was open- that she looked like a mindless idiot, and she shut it quickly.

'Joey…' she began awkwardly, but she couldn't think of what to say next. 'I just…don't think we should go too fast.' She looked at him, trying to explain with her eyes what she was finding hard to put into words.

He smiled and squeezed her hand. 'No sweat, sweetheart. No sweat.'

'I don't- it's just I…'

'It's okay, Martina,' Joey said. 'If you're not comfortable with that yet, I won't.'

'I've lost too many games like these, Joey- everything always goes too fast, and I end up hitting the wall before I can find the brakes. I mean, look what happened with Shifty…'

'Martina,' Joey said quietly, 'I understand perfectly if you'd rather I didn't tell anyone about this just yet. That's fine. No sweat.' He leaned in closer, cupped her face in his hand. 'But I promise you, no matter what happens, I will never do to you what Shifty did.'

He gently tilted her head back and kissed her slowly, so softly she thought if she hadn't been blessed with such a strong constitution a tear might have leaked from the corner of her eye. She was still trying to get used to all these emotions-to this whole different, tender side of Joey Boswell that wanted to be all caring and kind towards her, instead of annoying her no end.

Martina moved her hand up to touch his face, and Joey took hold of it in his, kissing her fingertips.

'I just need some more time, Joey,' she said, brushing a blond cowlick off his forehead, 'it's just a lot to cope with all at once.'

'Of course, sweetheart, of course,' he said, and he didn't sound hurt or annoyed or…anything, just understanding and accepting. So different from the Joey Boswell she'd known all these years- or thought she'd known, anyway. She didn't half like this side of him- but at the same time it frightened her a little.

Maybe this was how he acted around his family, she pondered as they sat there. Around his grandad, and all the others when they had these crises they were supposedly always having.

'Just do me one favour, sweetheart,' Joey went on, and Martina's train of thought vanished. What did he mean, a favour? Feelings or no feelings, if he was about to ask her to bend or break some law in order to get more money, if it turned out it was all just for financial gain, then she was ending this thing right here, right now.

'What?' she demanded, her voice a little harsher than she'd originally intended.

He grinned. 'Kiss me.'

At once the thoughts vanished, washed away by a stinging guilt at having ever had them. She reached up and did exactly that.

Martina wasn't sure how long the kiss lasted this time, only that at one point she opened her eyes and noticed out the corner of one of them that one or two of the waiters were giving them quite dirty looks. She pulled herself away and pointed it out to Joey.

Instead of toning his behaviour down, he just leaned back in his chair and roared with laughter.

'Joey!' Martina hissed, widening her eyes at him. She should have known. Don't hint for Joey Boswell to do something, or he'll do the exact opposite. Don't try and get him to be discreet, or he'll deliberately be as obnoxious as he possibly can. She should have learned that by now. Years and years of experience with him in the DHSS should have taught her.

The snobbiest of waiters- it was strange that in a place as run-down as Liverpool Mister Boswell managed to find the one expensive, high-class place to go to-was coming over now, a look of great annoyance on his face- something that only seemed to amuse Joey even further.

He threw up his hands. 'Greetings!'

'Excuse me, sir, but you're making a scene.'

Joey fixed him with his most infuriating smile. 'I know.'

Martina rolled her eyes. He'd gone from being caring and deep to egotistic and mischievously abominable in a single second.

'Well, would you please remember that this is a reputable establishment, and our policy doesn't tolerate that sort of behaviour.'

'What sort of behaviour?' Joey assumed a sheepish expression and tried to look innocent. 'What, you mean this?' And he kissed Martina again over the table.

'Sir, if you don't tone down your behaviour I might have to ask you to leave.'

Joey seemed to take this as a challenge, and Martina decided that when they finally did get thrown out, she would murder him.

It took a few more minutes of Joey being embarrassing before the management finally shoved a bill at them and demanded that they exeunt the restaurant.

'All right then,' Joey said, sighing and holding his arm out to Martina. 'Come on, you.'

Martina ignored the offered arm, mouthing a silent apology to the staff before following him out. They got two steps into the street before she turned to him, unsure just exactly how to react to the situation.

'What goes on in your head, Mister Boswell?' she demanded.

'Oh, everythin', sweetheart. Everythin'. All the mysteries of life.'

She glared. 'What on earth was all that for?'

He shrugged. 'Entertainment.'

'Oh- so your idea of a good time is getting thrown out or restaurants for indecent behaviour, is it?'

Joey laughed again- a ringing, happy sound this time. 'Not always, Angel-but you must admit, it was a laugh! They won't let us back in there again.'

'And what, pray tell, was the purpose of that little escapade?'

The evil smile was back. 'I felt like it.'

She tutted. 'You felt like having us permanently banned from one of the few reputable places in this city?'

'Oh, no. I meant I felt like this,' and he swooped in and stole another kiss before she could say a word. 'You,' he said when he pulled away, ' are incredibly beautiful. Have I mentioned that?'

'Oh, only about three times an hour, in what can only be described as a ridiculous amount of grovelling...or flattery,' she pretended to ponder this, 'I haven't decided which.'

'You love it,' Joey muttered, earning himself another glare. 'And you look lovely when you're angry!'

Martina tsk-tsk-ed again, trying to hide her own smirk. Spending time with Joey was like drinking some sort of cocktail you knew was incredibly bad for you, that you knew had a terrible influence on you, but at the same time you couldn't help but like the taste of, like the feeling you got when you did drink it. And you never knew just exactly what was going to happen.

She still hadn't quite gotten over the surrealism of the whole situation. A part of her still hadn't gotten used to the fact that this was Joey Boswell, that this was the man whose downfall she'd spent the best part of three years daydreaming about. And that the two of them had become some sort of item after a rather bizarre chain of events. And the fact that she was actually happy about that, that she actually found it rather exciting in a strange way.

'You won't think my anger is lovely if you start trying yer tricks in the DHSS again,' she returned, half teasing, half dead serious, 'it was your idea to separate all this,' she spread her arms out, unsure quite how to describe their relationship when she still wasn't certain what it was or where it was going, 'from the Social Security, and yet every time you go in there you seem to break that rule…'

'But sweetheart,' Joey said, 'Angel, those sorts of rules were made to be broken!'

'That's not all that'll be broken if you don't behave yourself, Mister Boswell…'

He chuckled. 'Come 'ere, you.' And he wrapped his arm around her, pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers yet again.

The evening air was cold and they shivered a little as they headed for home, Joey taking hold of Martina's hand as they set off down the street. He couldn't say it bothered him that she wasn't sure about telling his family just yet- after all, he had to accept that it was a great leap to make to go from despising all Boswells to becoming involved with one- and if this was going to get anywhere they couldn't go too fast.

Both of them had had disastrous experiences with love, and quite recently, too- and Joey knew he would be a fool, an utter idiot to ruin this before he could see where it led. There was something special about this- dating Martina was so different to dating anyone- she was such a down-to-earth person, but so kind and lovely when she wasn't wearing her stony DHSS-lady mask, and there was so much about her he wanted to know…

And so different to Roxy. Thinking of Roxy sent a strange sensation through his stomach. He'd loved her- she was the only girl he'd ever loved before, and so it was natural he would automatically find her making herself at home in his brain. He still occasionally felt little pangs when he remembered everything that had gone on between them, but at the same time, when he looked at Martina, it made him wonder if perhaps the impossible could happen. He'd thought he would never love anybody else, but maybe, just maybe, he'd been wrong about that.

He wouldn't call this love- not yet- but he couldn't help thinking there was a possibility that it might be, some day. And he would love to find out. He would just love to see what unfolded, where this went- would it last? Could it last, what with them coming from such different worlds- worlds which, in a professional sense, meant they were supposed to be all but nemeses? There were so many risks with this relationship, so many ways it could fail, and never had Joey so badly wanted to take this many risks at once.

But, ironically, to take those risks, to take that chance, he couldn't risk their relationship by speeding everything up- he was going to have to be cautious. Joey shook his head at the paradox.

'What are you thinking?' Martina asked, gazing up at him.

He blinked, snapping out of it. 'Angel?'

'You seem a million miles away…or are you just busy craftin' yer next devious scheme?'

Well, he didn't have to explain himself- she'd already provided him with a cue. He winked. 'Wouldn't you like to know, sweetheart?

She squeezed his hand so tightly he yelped in pain. 'Oh, honestly.'

Chapter Text

They were approaching Joey's Jag, parked near the waterfront, but Joey didn't feel like ending the evening just yet. He wanted to talk to Martina for a little while longer. They stood, looking out on the river, and he reached his hand out, placing it over hers.

Martina rested her head on Joey's shoulder and sighed heavily.

'Penny for your thoughts?'

'I was just thinking about how much you infuriate me, Mister Boswell.' She turned to look up at him. 'Everything you say, everything you do- every time you open your mouth I get this urge to hurl something at your head.'

Joey chuckled. 'I'd like to see you do that in the DHSS next time- it'd make for an interesting visit, sweetheart.'

'Oh, I will, then. I will. As soon as that word is mentioned I'll clock you over the head with that enormous file of yours.'

'What word?'

Martina looked away from him. 'You know what word, Joey. Your favourite word. The one that… infuriates me.'

'Oh, that,' he smiled wolfishly. 'So, sweetheart, it irritates you when I say gr-'

'Don't you start,' she gave him a warning look.

He laughed again, looping an arm around her waist. 'But when you say I infuriate you,' he said, nudging her with his elbow, 'you really mean you find me charmin', don't you, sweetheart?'

'I meant exactly what I said, Joey. You are infuriatin'. And yet…' she exhaled again, 'I can't seem to stay away from you.'

Joey's eyes met hers, and she smiled. He leaned very close, his lips brushing her ear. 'Then don't, sweet'eart. Don't stay away.' The words sent shivers down her spine. She closed her eyes.

'No, I mean I can't,' she said, trying to lighten her voice before the moment got too intense too soon, 'every day I spend with you I feel I'm gettin' a little closer to findin' out all your schemes. I wouldn't give that up now, would I?'

He laughed. 'Oh, that's just a cover, sweetheart. I can notice these things, you know.'

'Can you, just? A cover for what, pray tell?'

'For the fact that I am irresistible, and you would feel hopelessly deprived if you tried to stay away now.'

Martina arched an eyebrow. 'And we might have to work on that ego of yours, mightn't we?'

'Ego?' Joey pretended to look wounded.

'You don't think it's egotistical to call yourself irresistible?' she asked innocently.

'It's not egotistical if it's true,' Joey said, giving her a nudge. 'Girls get sort of magnet…ed to me, you know. I did tell you about how Roxy kept coming back, didn't I? There's just somethin' about me…'

He was laughing to himself, but Martina suddenly felt peculiar. Roxy. The girl before her. The one he'd been in love with, who'd kept on hurting him. Who, apparently, still occupied quite a bit of space in his mind.

Not that it was any of her business.

'Oh,' she said quietly. 'Right.'

Joey frowned. 'You okay?'

She shrugged, trying to force down the strange feeling building up in her throat. 'Course.'

Joey scrutinised her for a moment, and then, seeming to have satisfied himself that everything was all right, relaxed again and put his arm round her shoulders. Martina leaned against him again, but somehow it didn't feel quite the same as before. It was a bit more…awkward, somehow. She tried to ignore the feeling.

'Joey! Adrian's dumped his clothes all over my bed! Where am I supposed to sleep!'

'I'm changin' aren't I? And where are you supposed to sulk, you mean! No-one goes to bed at six o'clock in the evening unless they're out for attention!'

'Hey!' Joey called, waving at his bickering brothers to simmer down, 'I'm on the phone!' He held up the receiver, but Adrian and Billy seemed to take little notice. Grumbling, Joey shifted the receiver to the ear furthest away from the din and stuck his finger in the other.

'Sorry, sweet'eart. They're always like this.'

On the other end of the line, Martina made an understanding sort of murmur.

'What are you up to tonight then, Angel?' It had been the first night in quite a while now they hadn't been out somewhere, Joey realising that if he wanted to keep this discreet for the time being he'd better have a few nights off, so as not to arouse suspicions. Not only that, he'd been getting more and more concerned about his family. He wanted to remain around, making sure he was there when they needed him.

'Oh, nothing much, just catching up on- what's that?'

The 'that' she was referring to was coming from Joey's end, much to his dismay. Billy and Adrian's fight had broken up to make way for a far worse one- Freddie had decided to stop by, and not only had that provoked Nellie's wrath, but Lilo Lil had decided to have a fit of her own through the closed front door, which his mam was now throwing plates at.

'Er…family crisis,' was the easiest way Joey could think of to sum it up.

'Maybe you'd better see to it, hadn't you, Godfather?'

Joey grinned in spite of himself. It was wonderful, the way Martina was so understanding. She seemed to realise when family needed to come first, and though she did like to jab at him about it, he knew it didn't bother her. She'd always known how close he was with the rest of the Boswells, all their unity- well, he'd been drilling it into her head long enough with all his visits to the DHSS, during which he emphasised it repeatedly- and rather than feeling threatened by that, she accepted it.

'You're wonderful, you are.' He paused, musing. 'Roxy never liked it when I spent time tryin' to sort 'em out.'

'You said.' It might have just been interference on the line, but her voice sounded a bit…flat. It was probably her phone- she'd mentioned to him a little while back that it wasn't the best quality (tagged on the end of a how-can-Boswells-afford-everything jibe).

'Well, I'd better go, sweetheart. I'll call you later.'

'Go then,' Martina said stiffly, and there was a dial tone as they were disconnected.

Joey put down the phone and got up to sort out his parents.

Joey had slowly been wising up to the fact that there was something a little off about Martina. It had been going on for about a week now at least- every so often, at seemingly random points in their conversations her whole demeanour would suddenly change, and she'd become pensive or sullen, and it would be all he could do to drag so much as one-word answers out of her. At first the eldest Boswell had put it down to stress at work, and the tiredness catching up with her, but as the days wore on he began to wonder about it.

They were dining al fresco when the bombshell finally dropped. Joey, beginning to run out of different places to take her, had turned to Jack for a recommendation, being careful not to mention Martina but rather casually ask while his brother had his mind on something else, and as such, they had ended up at a rather strange place where a man in a Russian costume belted out O Sole Mio while they ate.

It had started out well. The DHSS lady had laughed at their ridiculous entertainment, and they'd fallen straight into easy conversation. They'd begun with family, he'd regaled her with a few of the highlights of Billy and Julie's latest war and now they were discussing her work. Apparently Mister Wilson had been back, and caused such a ruckus he'd almost had to be dragged out by the police.

'Well, look on the bright side, sweetheart- he might get a restrainin' order! Perhaps my guardian angel powers are now working even when I'm not there…'

'I thought I was your guardian angel.'

'No, you're my money angel, Martina,' Joey corrected, 'remember- you said you were gonna catch me out, hence you weren't protecting me.'

'Mm, yeah, that sounds like something I'd say.' Martina put another spoonful of soup in her mouth and pretended to consider. 'In fact, I've been watching you, Mister Boswell, and I think I might have picked up a few useful little tidbits of information I can use…'

'Oh, yes?' Joey leaned across the table, til his face was so close to hers both of them were almost cross-eyed. 'I think you're just makin' that up.'

'Somethin' you'd know all about, isn't that right, Joey?'

'Who says I make the things I say up?'

Martina smirked, then laughed throatily. Leaning even closer, she took hold of his face and kissed him firmly. 'I do.'

'You just kissed me,' Joey breathed, a look of wonder coming over his face.

'Er-yes, I did.' She raised one eyebrow. What was so special about that?

'You never kissed me before- I always have to initiate it. Or ask you.' He grinned. 'Does this mean you've completely and utterly fallen for me, then?'

'Joey,' Martina said in a warning tone. 'Remember what I said about goin' too fast?'

Joey frowned, a little twinge of unwarranted disappointment flickering over his face. He shouldn't be disappointed. It had only been a few weeks, and besides, he hadn't fully sorted out all his feelings for her himself. He'd only been teasing her, anyhow.

He watched her as she sipped from her glass, paying attention to the little details he was learning to adore. A curl from her fringe kept falling into her face, and her brow furrowed as she flicked it away, a little frown appearing which just made him want to laugh, take hold of her in his arms and kiss her until it disappeared.

'What's wrong with goin' too fast?' he asked lightly, grinning at her and keeping his eyes on her until she couldn't keep a straight face and a smirk forced its way out.

'Remember Shifty?'

That sobered Joey up. 'Oh, yeah.' Shifty had only been seeing her for two weeks, and then the next thing Joey knew, he was coming into the kitchen announcing he was moving in with her. And before anyone could blink Martina was in despair and asking him strange questions about lies and Grandad being injured. It had all ended quite terribly. No wonder she wanted to be cautious.

And it wasn't as if Joey wasn't trying to be careful either- he had no intention of rushing straight into a serious attachment while all the business with Roxy was so close behind him. He wanted to take things slowly, too, to ensure it didn't all end up the way it had last time. Perhaps if he reminded her of that, she'd be a bit more at rest.

'You might have a point, sweetheart. It was only a week after I met Roxy I thought I was in love with 'er, and you know how that ended.'

'Yes, I remember vividly,' Martina said, 'you've told me enough times.' She sounded angry now, and Joey wondered just what on earth she was thinking. Was she really getting this annoyed just because he might have been going too fast?

'Well, I was just… agreein' with you,' he said, 'about the goin' too fast thing. You see when Roxy and I-'

'I believe you!' she snapped, fixing him with a ferocious gaze- the one which, in the DHSS meant shut up if you value your life.

Joey shut his mouth, sighing and trying to work out just what he was supposed to have said. What was wrong with Martina? She sat there across the table from him in silence, her eyes moving about as she sank deeper into thought. She was clearly stewing about something, working herself up, although Joey didn't think she realised she was doing it. It was that mood again, the one he couldn't work out. She had no reason to be angry or worried- unless the Mister Wilson thing was still on her mind, but he didn't dare bring it up just now.

'Can I get you another drink or anything?' he offered, not exactly sure why he was grovelling.

'No. I want to go home.'

The sharp tone of her voice, as well as this abrupt desire to leave, startled Joey a little. He gave her a strange look. 'Are you feeling all right, sweetheart?'

'I'm not sick, if that's what you're thinkin',' she snapped. 'I've just had enough for tonight, that's all.'

'Enough food?'

'Enough you.'

'Oh,' said Joey, still confused. What had he done?

Without another word, she stood up and left, and Joey was left to hastily ask for her bill, grab her coat, which she'd left draped over the back of her chair and run after her.

'Martina!'

She was already halfway across the road. She turned, an expression on her face which Joey didn't know how to interpret. He meekly held her coat up for her to slip into.

'You forgot this.'

'Thank you,' she stalked back over to him, snatching it off him rather than allowing him to help her into it.

Joey followed her to where the Jag lay waiting, and the instant he'd unlocked the passenger door, she grabbed hold of the handle before he could open it for her, with a fierce I can manage on my own.

Furrowing his brow, he climbed into the driver's seat. What was going on? He couldn't see any reason for this sudden mood swing- one moment she'd seemed perfectly fine and all of a sudden even his presence was seriously upsetting her. It wasn't as though he'd been deliberately annoying her until she cracked- he'd just been holding a sensible conversation- what had come over her? If he were perfectly honest, it was starting to make him a little cross himself.

Martina slammed the door so hard the whole car shuddered. Joey looked at her in horror.

'Eh, do you mind?'

She gazed out the window and didn't speak to him.

'What is the matter with you today?' Joey demanded.

'Nothing,' she growled.

'Martina,' he'd never really used his 'stern' voice on her before- it was always the other way round, given the nature of their relationship. 'Look at me.'

She turned her head reluctantly but refused to look him in the eye.

'What's wrong?'

'Why does there have to be anything wrong?' Martina snapped.

'You won't speak to me- you just slammed the door of me Jag…'

'Oh, and I suppose perfect Roxy never did?'

Joey was perplexed. 'What's Roxy gotta do with anythin'?'

'It would just be nice,' Martina said through her teeth, 'to be able to 'ave a conversation with you these days without 'avin' meself constantly compared to 'er- I'm sick of it!'

And suddenly it hit Joey, and he wanted to kick himself for not having seen it before. He'd thought it was better to talk about Roxy- prove he was truly over her by bringing her up casually and not getting upset over it, but now all he'd done was make it seem like he was judging her by the standards set by his old girlfriend. He felt terrible- but at a same time, a guilty little part of him was thrilled at the idea that she might be jealous. If she was jealous that meant she really wanted him, and she wasn't just accompanying him because she felt obliged or pitied him.

Either way, though, he had to straighten this out.

He cupped her face in his hand and she shook it off, turning away from him again. Determined not to take no for an answer, to make her see, make her listen to him, he put his arm around her shoulders, keeping it there and disregarding her attempts to shrug it away.

'Listen,' he said quietly, using his free hand to brush hair from her face, 'don't feel like that, sweetheart. You don't have to be insecure about Roxy- I told you from the start, didn't I, that I was over that- didn't I?' She said nothing so he went on. 'I don't get all jealous when you mention our Shifty, do I? And, I mean, we can't change the stuff that happened to us in the past, can we, so what's the point in pretendin' it didn't happen? I want to be honest with you, Martina, that's all, tell you everythin' now, so you don't think later on that I'm keepin' things from you.'

She was still quiet. He leaned in closer, so his lips were almost touching her ear. 'I want you for you, Martina, not for who you remind me of or who you don't remind me of. Just you.'

The silence continued. Joey sat back in his chair, feeling defeated. 'Look, I'm sorry if I upset you. I'm sorry, sweet'eart.'

She turned, very slowly, and looked him up and down. 'Oh, you are, are you?'

The corner of her mouth twitched, and then she was smiling at him, and Joey felt all his relief escape in an out-breath. He gave a tentative little smile back.

'Oh, all right,' she sighed, her shoulders heaving quite dramatically. 'I'll forgive yer- if only because it makes a change to hear you actually apologise and admit yer own error fer once.'

Joey put his arms around her and pulled her close. 'If it means I'll get back into your good graces, sweetheart,' he muttered into the top of her head, 'I'd do anythin'.'

He instantly regretted this specific choice of words as Martina pulled back, the most evil expression he had ever seen on her face- and he'd seen her look frighteningly smug before.

'Anything, you say?'

Joey gave a nervous laugh. 'Er, just hold on there before you start definin' 'anythin'', sunshine,' he said, holding up his hands. 'Remember the separation of DHSS matters and our relationship?'

Martina crossed her arms. 'You only keep that agreement when it suits you.'

'True, true…'

'That's not a good thing, Joey…' her gaze became stern once more. 'All that shows is an over-inflated sense of self-importance.'

'But admit it, Martina,' he leaned back against the car door, deliberately posing, 'you find that most attractive.'

'Dream on, o self-important one.'

Joey laughed, hugging her tightly to him, tears of amusement on the verge of escaping. 'Did I tell you how much I utterly adore you, Martina?'

'You might have, Mister Boswell. You might have.'

'More than I adore anyone else.' This remark was both a reassurance and a bit of a grovel, and he sensed she knew that.

'More than anyone, you say?'

'Well, I must admit, Grandad's not without his charm…'

He felt her snickering vibrate into his shoulder and then they were both laughing, and he was overwhelmed with the feeling that he truly did adore her. Maybe, he thought, he even loved her a little bit. He didn't mention this, though. The time wasn't right. For now, adoration would do.

'I feel indignant, Yizzel.'

'Yeh?' Yizzel gave his boss a slack-jawed look.

'It's not often I get cheated, Yizzel. And especially not twice by the same person.'

'Yeah, twice,' repeated Yizzel, and then paused. 'By 'oo?'

'That dustman. 'Ad another game o' cards with him last night. 'e ran off again, without payin' me. Some people never learn, do they?'

'No. Never learn.'

Yizzel's mate rolled his eyes at his friend's annoying tendency to repeat everything he said. 'Last time we 'ad a bit o' trouble getting' the money off his son.'

'He blackmailed us, didn't 'e? With that candlestick?'

Yizzel's mate tutted. 'Yes, he did,' he said through gritted teeth. 'And I don't like being made to look the fool, Yizzel.'

'Well 'e's done that to you a few times, gov,' said Yizzel tactlessly, and earned himself a glare.

'Yeah,' Yizzel's mate said, through even more tightly gritted teeth. 'But this time he's gonna give us our dues, no fuss.'

' 'ow'd you know?'

' 'is dad's got an 'eart condition. They're all tryin' not to stress him out, just in case 'e 'as a sudden attack. If he doesn't want any more stress for his father, that Joey will pay us up- and 'e's got nothin' on us this time.'

'Oh. Yeah.' Yizzel sounded like he didn't quite understand, but that he was pretending he did. 'So when are we gonna burst 'im, boss?'

His mate grabbed hold of Yizzel's shoulders and turned him around, pointing him across the street. 'See that there? That's his car. He's just got in. As soon as pulls out, we follow 'im, and 'ead him off.'

'And take it from there?'

'Yes, Yizzel,' his mate said. 'And take it from there.'

Chapter Text

'You sure you're all right now, sweetheart?' Joey asked.

Leaning back in her seat, Martina sighed. 'Oh, I'm all right. Shouldn't have overreacted. I don't know what came over me.'

She couldn't see his face straight on, but from what she could see, Joey was grinning, and clearly about to make some supposedly witty remark about just exactly what had come over her. She prepared herself for another verbal spar, when Joey's face suddenly turned to horror. He slammed on the brakes, and Martina had just enough time to see the car heading straight for them and shriek.

The Jag squealed to a stop at the same time as the approaching car braked, resulting in only a gentle bump. Joey winced. 'The paintwork…' he whined.

Martina, heart still hammering, shot him a horrified look. 'Oh, so it didn't matter that we nearly both got killed, then? Just so long as your car...'

'Shh,' Joey put one finger over her mouth; a gesture which got her heckles up immensely. Who did he think he was to go shushing her like that? She was about to give him a piece of her mind when she noticed the panicked expression on his face. Martina had never seen Joey look so worried- not even when he was in danger of being caught out down the Social Security. His eyes darted from side to side, and went very pale as he craned his neck to look in the rear view mirror.

Martina stole a glance herself. There was another car behind them, its nose touching the back of Jag, mirroring the vehicle in front of them. They were hemmed in. The DHSS lady's heart rate, which hadn't even settled down to its normal rate after the almost-crash, picked up once more. This was very sinister- she could see why Joey had looked so afraid. A lump came to her throat as a possibility hit her. Joey Boswell clearly had more money than he let on about- that was obvious enough judging by the amount of expensive gear he owned and the amount of cash he was willing to throw about- and it had always been obvious that he wasn't getting all of that from the DHSS. A large portion of it, maybe, but not all of it. And suddenly the frightening thought attacked Martina that perhaps he was always involved in shady dealings, and that was how he came by all that spare cash. She'd only been joking when she'd suggested this to Joey- but now she was terrified her jape had become reality.

Was Joey involved with the mob? Or had he been, and now they were coming to collect something off him that he'd neglected to pay? A parade of horrible ideas assaulted her. She turned to Joey, half of her wanting to cling to him for protection, the other half wanting to hit him and run, but he spoke before she could do either.

'Stay in the car.' His voice was low and emotionless, and it unnerved her further.

'Joey, what is going-'

'Just stay in the car.' He unbuckled his seatbelt, opened up the driver's door, and then paused. Turning back towards her, he took hold of her hand, clutching at it for a moment. His own hands were clammy and shaking, and Martina noted with some relief, though she wasn't sure it should be relief, that whoever these people were that had blocked his car, they weren't his friends. This could prove to be very dangerous. What was she doing with this man?

Joey leaned in and kissed her on the forehead, but this time it didn't reassure her or feel sweet- it just conveyed to her his own terror.

'Stay,' he muttered again, and if she hadn't been frightened for both their lives, she would have hit him for talking to her like she was his obedient puppy.

She watched, rigid in her car seat as the eldest Boswell stepped out into the gathering dark.

'Ah. Greetings!' Joey tried to keep his tone casual. He'd known immediately who he was facing- Yizzel and his mate were far too predictable- and they were easy enough to deal with. Joey had gotten himself out of plenty of situations involving these clowns. They didn't scare him- their plans always had holes, and though he often worried when his family got involved, they had never ended too badly. But he had Martina in the car now, and she wasn't used to this sort of thing. The idea of her getting tangled up in all this nauseated him in more ways than one- what would she think of him if she thought they were making dodgy deals? And, more significantly, he didn't want her being put in any sort of danger. Yes, she was tough behind the DHSS partition, but this was different.

'We don't like to keep you, do we, Yizzel?' came the voice of the boss, and he melted out of the shadows, coming to stand rather menacingly in front of Joey, a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

'Naw, don't like to keep yer,' echoed Yizzel from behind Joey's head, and the eldest Boswell closed his eyes, breathing deeply to stay calm.

'Well, in that case, perhaps you'd better be off.'

'Jokin' now, are you, Joey? I don't like people jokin' around wiv me, do I, Yizzel?'

'Nah.'

'What is it this time?' Joey put a lot of effort into trying to sound macho now. 'Another load of stolen goods you'd like someone else to deliver? A chauffer job?'

'It's yer father,' said Yizzel's mate.

'Yeh,' said Yizzel.

Joey felt the colour drain from his face.

'We 'ad another little wager wif 'im- and he 'asn't paid up.'

Joey knew where this was going now, and he didn't like it one bit. 'So,' he said, still keeping his voice even, 'I take it you think I'm gonna settle up instead.' There was more to that sentence, along the lines of well you thought wrong, but Yizzel's mate spoke before he could utter it.

'Five 'undred quid.'

Joey set his jaw. 'On yer rocket.'

'I don't think you should be talkin' to us like that- should he, Yizzel?'

'Nah,' said Yizzel.

'Because we know somethin', don't we, Yizzel?'

'Do we?'

Yizzel's mate kicked him in the shin. 'Yes, we do, Yizzel,' he growled. 'Because we happen to know somethin' about this man's father, don't we, Yizzel?'

'Do we?'

Yizzel's mate rolled his eyes and gave up asking for his input. 'A good source tells us about your father's…condition, shall we say?'

Joey swallowed. He didn't know how these vile bastards had found out about Freddie's heart, but this was going from bad to worse, and he had the sinking feeling he wasn't going to get out of this one entirely unscathed.

'And if he gets so much as one little shock…' Yizzel's mate made a throat-cutting noise, which Yizzel mimicked.

Joey tried to keep his breathing even.

'So imagine what it'll do to him when he finds out his favourite son's snuffed it. Won't be pretty, will it?'

'Nah, won't be pretty.'

Well, there it was then. The threat to him plus the threat to one of his family, all delivered in a neat little package. He had no choice. He'd have to hand over a large wad of cash, or he, then his father, then, by proxy, his entire family would suffer the consequences.

With a horrible lurch to his stomach, Joey reached into his pocket. He resented Yizzel's mate's easy victory. If he got away with this blackmail once, he would try it again. Freddie's condition wasn't likely to go away, and these crooks could completely milk it to their advantage. What could he do, though? His hands were tied. Yizzel and his mate each took a menacing step towards him, and he hastened to find his wallet.

'Five hundred, did you say?' he moaned, but as he began to pull notes out of his wallet, both gangsters' faces turned from him and towards his car.

That couldn't be good.

Martina was used to sitting behind a desk all day, but she couldn't sit still now even for a few minutes. She shifted in her seat,fidgeted, wrung her hands, tried to turn her thoughts to something else, but with Joey outside being cornered by some shady-looking thugs, it was impossible. What was she supposed to do, though? This whole situation terrified her. Part of her wanted to just get out, to get as far away from here as was humanly possible and stay well away from all this shady stuff. But every time she managed to talk herself into going, her entire body froze. She couldn't leave Joey.

If there was any way she could help… oh, what was she thinking? The last time she ended up in a dark alley, Joey had had to rescue her. She didn't know the first thing about what to do in this sort of crisis- and she still didn't know what Joey had done to get involved in all this in the first place. It would be the most ridiculously foolish idea in the world to get out, to go over to him and try to get him out of it. It would never work, he had told her not to, and she would most likely land them both in more trouble.

So, of course, that was exactly what she did.

'Oh, look, Yizzel! Joey's got a little friend with him!'

Uh oh.

'Martina!' Joey's voice was higher than usual. 'Get back in the car.'

'No, I think your friend should join us, shouldn't she, Yizzel?'

'Yeh. Join us.'

Martina walked forwards in a daze. What had she done? What was she going to do?

'Come join the party, sweetheart,' said the more sinister of the two men, and Martina felt the blood in her veins run cold. 'We can't 'ave innocent lit'le girls goin' off down the streets at night!'

'And callin' the police,' said the other one.

'That much was implied, Yizzel!'

Joey had crossed over to her in an instant, pushing her behind him. 'I told you to stay put!' he hissed over his shoulder.

Despite the fact she was supposed to be afraid, Martina felt indignant rage boiling up inside her. 'And since when did you have the right ter tell me what I can and can't do?' she growled back.

'Martina, this is hardly the time or the place!'

'And why, may I ask, are you in this mess in the first place? I did wonder about you, Joey Boswell-'

'It's not like that, sweetheart! I can assure you that this is nothin' to do with-'

'Havin' a nice little chat over there?'

Joey and Martina, still fuming at each other, stopped arguing and looked up at Yizzel and his mate.

'Oi,' said the bloke who must be Yizzel, 'ain't that the woman from the Social Security?'

Martina tried to place the two thugs, but they didn't spark anything in her memory.

'Well, so it is, Yizzel. So it is.' Yizzel's mate leaned in uncomfortably close to the pair. 'Seein' someone you shouldn't again, are you Joey? Remember what happened last time? Roxy Hartwell's husband wasn't too happy when he found out about you, was 'e? If I recall correctly…'

'If I recall correctly, you were the one who got duffed up, not me.' How Joey could still act so obnoxious when faced with danger? He even seemed to be smiling now. 'Well, I suppose that's what comes from bein' so complacent…and so careless with yer fur coats…'

Oh. Martina had a sudden memory of Joey telling her this story on the first afternoon they'd spent together. She'd laughed then, believing it to be a tall tale embellished to entertain her. Now it seemed like he might have been telling the truth, and this idea unnerved her even more than the prospect of what might happen to them at this very moment. Just what did Joey Boswell do with his life? Whatever it was, somehow she'd gotten herself entangled in it, and now she seemed to be facing the consequences of that decision.

'Don't try and act clever with us,' Yizzel's mate said, taking a leisurely drag on his cigarette and blowing smoke in Joey's face. 'The last man who tried that regretted it, didn't he, Yizzel?'

Yizzel made a face which was probably supposed to illustrate the pain the last man who acted clever had experienced.

'And the last time you acted clever you got duffed up by Roxy's husband,' said Joey cheekily. Martina wanted to smile at his impertinence, but there were too many things to worry about.

'Ooh, you will regret that comment,' Yizzel's mate replied, and although she was angry with him and unsure about so many things, Martina still found herself clutching his arm.

'Oi! Lads! If this is about the debt, I can explain!'

The new voice startled all four of the little group, and from around the corner bounded a scruffy heap of a man, silvery hair sticking out from under a moth-eaten cap.

'Dad!' Joey shouted.

Martina looked at the newcomer with astonishment. She would have had more of an opinion on whether or not there was any family resemblance between him and Joey, but the shock of all these things at once was a bit too much. She hadn't expected to be suddenly be confronted with another member of Joey's family, not so soon, and certainly not in this manner.

Yizzel and his mate were now also facing Joey's father, the full force of their ominous approach now turned on him. 'You got our readies?'

'Well, you see,' the man laughed nervously, and Martina noticed for the first time a large shoebrush of a moustache quivering on his upper lip, 'I were followin' this paintin' round- 'ad to wait til I could afford it- bought and sold it this mornin' for twice its value, so, er... I can pay yer back now.'

He reached a hand into his moth-eaten jacket and pulled out an enormous wad of cash that made Martina's eyes widen. 'I've got six 'undred 'ere…five, wasn't it?'

'We'll take the six- the extra 'undred quid can be your late fee,' Yizzel's mate said, holding out a gloved hand, and with a tremendous sigh, Joey's dad passed the whole bundle to him.

'So, that's all settled now, is it?' He laughed again.

'Not quite.' The thugs were pointed in their direction again. 'We're still not quite finished with your son.'

'Look,' said Joey in a low voice, 'you've got what you wanted plus some- now on yer rocket.'

'There's still the question of this lass.' Yizzel's mate reached out to touch her face and she flinched away, trying to stare him down with the same look she used in the DHSS.

'Don't you touch her,' Joey warned.

'There is, of course the problem that she might squeal on us, isn't there, Yizzel?'

'Yeh,' said Yizzel, and Martina rolled her eyes in spite of herself. This repetitive thing was really starting to get on her nerves. 'Tell the coppers and all.'

'She won't,' growled Joey, 'so leave it, okay?'

'I can speak for meself, you know,' Martina snapped. No-one took any notice of her.

'Look,' Joey told Yizzel and his mate, 'how much do you want to clear off?'

'Tryin' to buy us off, are you, Joey?'

'You catch on fast,' said Joey. He rummaged in his pockets, pulling out a wad of notes twice as big as his father's had been and peeling some off of it, and Martina resolved to bring it up with him when all this was over, while she was telling him off about all of this, 'take this, and then on yer bike.' He waved his arms toward their cars.

Yizzel's mate peered at the cash he'd been presented with. 'Not much 'ere, is there, Yizzel?'

'Ain't there?'

'It's more than you deserve,' Joey sounded utterly fed up. 'Now make yerselves scarce, or the family'll have somethin' to say.'

'Don't you remember what we said earlier?' Yizzel's mate asked. 'What'd happen if your father…'

'He won't be shocked any more. He's seen us.'

'But if something happened to you…'

'Then the rest of us'll make sure you regret it,' Joey sounded just as menacing as they did now, and Martina didn't like this side of him. It was everything she'd been worried about from the beginning. 'We're not a merciful lot, you know. And there are more of us than you think.'

Yizzel's mate counted the money again. 'Well,' he said, and though he was still trying to appear in control of the situation, Martina was used to seeing through people's façades, and she could tell he'd been put out by Joey's latest remark, 'we're not 'appy about this- but it'll do. Don't you think, Yizzel?'

'Not 'appy,' said Yizzel. 'But it'll do.'

Martina couldn't hold back any longer. The sarcastic, DHSS lady part of her just had to comment. 'Don't you 'ave an original thought in yer 'ead?'

To her surprise, his mate roared with laughter. 'She's made o' good stuff, this one! Sure I can't tempt you away from Joey Boswell, sweet'eart?'

She shuddered at that. This man's approval wasn't something she particularly wanted. It might just be their ticket out of here though- if she could make them believe she wasn't scared of them, they might stop harassing Joey and skulk off to wherever they came from.

Then she'd be free to do some haranguing herself.

'Oh, I don't think your 'usband would appreciate that,' she said, with a meaningful look at Yizzel. 'What would 'e say if you weren't there to say it for 'im?'

Yizzel's mate didn't appreciate the husband remark, but he seemed to respect her quick wit anyhow. 'Let's not cross the line now, shall we, love?' he warned, tipping his hat to her. 'Come on, Yizzel. We've got places to be.'

'Places to be,' said Yizzel, and slouched off towards his car. As he reached the door he paused. 'Husband?'

A couple of shouts from his mate to leave it be and they were off, being sure to bump the front and back of the Jag as they went. Martina heard Joey make a horrified little noise. 'My car…'

'Oh, enough about your car!' she spluttered. 'You, Mister Boswell, have a lot of explaining to-'

'In a minute,' Joey waved her off, stepping away from her and crossing the narrow street to address his father. Martina, fuming even more, followed him.

'Dad, what do you think you're doin'!' Joey chided. 'Getting' yerself into trouble with that lot- and with yer 'eart…'

'I know what you're gonna say, son,' said Joey's dad, 'I know what you're gonna say- but there's no harm done, is there?'

Joey looked like he was about to remind the man that there was very nearly rather a lot of harm done, and Martina was inclined to say a similar thing, only she felt it wasn't her place. As soon as this little family conversation was over, she would let Joey have it. Until then, she'd just wait.

'I was 'avin' a bit of a grey day, you see, son,' Joey's father continued. 'Grey as rainclouds, it was, so I thought I'd try me luck. And…'

'Okay, okay,' Joey cut him off. 'Like you said, there's no 'arm done. But we'd better all get out o' here before anythin' else 'appens. How'd you get here, son?'

He smiled, and his resemblance to Joey peered out for a split second. 'Brought me cart, didn't I?'

Joey groaned. 'You can't walk that thing about so much- you'll wear your heart out. I'll drive you back to yer flat.'

He appeared to be about to protest, but a look from Joey silenced him. 'Oh, all right then. I'll pick me cart up tomorrer.'

Joey put his arm around the man, guiding him towards the Jag. 'Come on, Martina,' he called over his shoulder.

Martina followed, but she was by no means happy about it. She wasn't one of Joey's minions, to be ordered about. That was another thing she would have to discuss with him as soon as she got a chance- bringing the total number of things-to-yell-at-Joey-about to more than she could count. Her mind was still spinning from the evening's strange turn of events as she climbed into the passenger seat, doing her seatbelt up and staring out the window ahead.

Joey gave her a small smile as he started the engine. She didn't return it. There was too much to be considered. Tonight had started out so well- it had only been around twenty minutes ago at the most that Joey was telling her he adored her and they were joking away with ease, and now, all of a sudden, they'd been cornered by gangsters of some sort, and then Joey had started acting unsavoury himself.

She'd known right from the start he wasn't a one hundred per cent honest person- she'd known he'd been fiddling the DHSS, but this was different. This wasn't just something she could smirk about and say she'd catch him out for- whatever had just gone on was unethical, perhaps even criminal. She didn't have all the facts, of course, but this whole incident had cast a huge shadow of doubt over their whole relationship. Whatever was going on, she wanted no part of it- and how could she stay involved with Joey if she couldn't trust him?

She didn't want to lose him, though. She should have had no qualms about breaking it off with him right here and now- as a DHSS lady it was a dreadful idea to go out with someone you had to work with anyhow- but ever since the incident with Mister Wilson, the idea of staying away from him had become unthinkable, unbearable even.

What do I do? she thought. How is this ever going to work?

Chapter Text

'You can't keep goin' on like this, Dad!' Joey was beside himself. 'You know what the doctor said- you can't keep puttin' strain on yer 'eart!'

They were sitting in Freddie's kitchen, Joey feeling it was safe to come in once he'd made sure Lilo Lil wasn't there.

'It's my ticker,' Freddie said. 'I know when it's gonna be all right and when it's not…'

'Do you want to risk it? What about Mam, eh? What about all of us?' He leaned in closer. 'What would any of us do if you 'ad an attack?'

'You're turning into your mother,' Freddie made a face. 'Tryin' to guilt me…'

'No-one's tryin' to guilt you, Dad,' Joey insisted. 'We all care about you.'

Freddie said nothing for a minute, but Joey knew him well enough to know he was trying to think of a way to change the subject rather than preparing himself to concede. 'You'd better see to that girl out there,' he jerked his head in the direction of the living room, where Martina had been left to fend for herself for the time being, 'I think she's a bit shook up.' He paused, and then his eyes flashed mischievously. 'So, who is she then?'

Joey bit his lip as he tried to work out what to say. 'Her name's Martina,' he said lamely.

'Oh, yeah?' Freddie grinned up at him. 'And?' When Joey didn't immediately respond, his dad added another few words of encouragement. 'Well go on, then!'

'Well,' Joey began.

He'd only uttered one word, but Freddie's face lit up. 'When you was a younger lad, about your Billy's age, you used to get all embarrassed when you were talkin' about girls you were serious about. Nice to see you 'aven't grown out of that. Takes me back.'

Joey found himself colouring.

'Special, is she?'

'You bet.'

'So what's the matter, then?'

He frowned. 'What makes you think there's somethin' the matter?'

'I know when my lad's troubled about summat. Another married one, is she?'

'No, no,' Joey laughed, more out of relief than from actual humour. 'Not married.'

'A Proddy? I know what your Mam'd say about that.'

'No- well, I don't think so…'

'What, then?'

'Well, she does work down the DHSS…'

'Aha!' said Freddie. 'A secret affair with the enemy, eh? You always did like to live dangerously, didn't you, son?'

'She's not 'the enemy'!' Joey rolled his eyes. 'Where do they get it all from? It's not that.'

Freddie waited for him to elaborate.

'It's just…sometimes I look at her and…I don't know what she thinks o' me. Before we were…well, how we are now, she always used to say she was out to get me because she knew I was 'up to something' as she put it. She never trusted that the things I said were the unpolished truth…'

'They aren't, though,' Freddie cut in.

'Yeah, but I don't want her to think that it's the same outside the DHSS.' He sighed. 'I want her to trust me, Dad, but I don't know if she ever will. Especially after-'

'What just happened?' Freddie finished for him.

Joey nodded.

'You reckon you love 'er?'

'I don't know. Last time I let meself love someone- well, you know about Roxy, don't you? But…' he fiddled with one of the gold chains around his neck as he spoke, 'you remember when we had lunch a while back, and we were talkin' about Edgar, and about girls?'

'Yeah.'

'And you mentioned 'ow me Mam always 'ad an effect on you…'

'And you said you'd never met a girl who could do that to yer?' He leaned in conspiratorially. 'You retractin' that statement?'

Joey lowered his voice 'til it was barely a whisper. 'This has got to be close.'

'Well you know what I think?'

Joey nodded eagerly for him to go on.

'I think, instead of sittin' in 'ere moanin' about it to me, you should be goin' out there and payin' some attention to 'er. She's been through a lot tonight.'

The eldest Boswell son sighed. He knew Freddie was right. He shouldn't be neglecting her, especially when it was crucial he straighten out the night's events. But still… he paused, looking from the doorway to his dad in a way which might have been comical were it in a cartoon.

'Don't sweat about me 'eart, son,' Freddie said, sensing immediately what was eating at him. 'It won't come to any 'arm.'

Joey eyed him dubiously, but after a few more encouraging comments he finally resigned himself and stood up, heading for the other room.

'Oh, Joey?'

Joey turned back.

'You want me to keep me mouth shut to your Mam about this?'

'About Martina or about what happened tonight?'

'Either. Both.'

'Well, t'others don't know about Martina, and I…'

'Say no more, son, say no more.' Freddie laid a finger to the side of his nose and winked. 'Mum's the word…or not, in this case!' He laughed at his own, not-very-funny-at-all joke and Joey gave a half-hearted smile and went out to sort out Martina.

She was perched on the edge of Freddie's tatty sofa when he finally approached her, looking out of place and completely bewildered as to what she was doing here. Martina didn't look up as Joey came near. Her eyes remained glued to something on the other side of the room, and Joey knew instantly he was in trouble. Not that he'd expected any less- her temper whilst the dreadful exchange with Yizzel and his more eloquent mate had foreshadowed some sort of severe remonstration. He only hoped she wasn't too furious.

Joey slowly sat down beside her, putting one hand on her shoulder. She was rigid, unresponsive. Perhaps she had been even more shaken than he'd thought. He'd been ridiculously stupid to think this wouldn't heavily affect her- he'd just assumed she was strong enough to cope. In his defence, he'd had a lot on his mind- he just couldn't help it. The instant something appeared to threaten his family he rushed to their aid, to do whatever he could for them. And his Dad had needed him.

Roxy had never understood that. Did Martina?

Nonetheless, he couldn't entirely blame her for being unhappy with him. Family duties aside, this whole thing would be very taxing on anyone. It would be horrible for anyone to find their- their what? Boyfriend? Partner? Passing-the-time-companion? Joey didn't know what she considered him in her life- making deals with criminals. It would be especially trying for Martina, so soon after Shifty had deceived her, and when for so many years she'd been suspicious he was making some dodgy deals behind the Social Security's back.

'Martina?' Joey asked.

'What?' The tone of her voice didn't give him much hope of ending this conversation without a fight. He tried desperately to think of something to say. The result of this thought was a little on the pathetic side.

'Greetings!' he said sheepishly.

It got her to turn her head, if nothing else, but after he clocked her face he wished he'd begun with an apology.

'If I had any sort of weapon right now I'd slit your throat with it.'

'Maybe I should take you home, it's been a bit of a…'

'Just what do you think you are doing, Joey Boswell?!' the inevitable explosion had happened. Martina was on her feet, sounding like a magnified version of every time she'd had more than she could take at the Social Security, only more frightening.

'Well, you see…' Joey began, reaching out to touch her, but she slapped his hand away.

'I don't want to hear all yer excuses again, Joey! I'm sick of you fobbin' me off with made-up stories- I want to know exactly what is what, and why I just spent the best part of the evenin' listenin' to the sort of crooked exchanges I thought only existed on television!'

'Well you would get out the car…' said Joey, but he doubted she even heard.

'I want to know how you had more money in your pocket just now than most people see in six months' wages! I want to know just what sort of shady exchanges you get up to to get hold of all that gear you've got- and I want the truth!'

She stared at him, all but singeing him with her eyes, daring him to try and wriggle out of this one.

'Look, I can explain all about the Yizzel thing…'

Martina sat down, folding her arms. 'I'm waitin', Mister Boswell.'

'Do you call me that automatically because when you're angry you revert to being a DHSS lady…'

'Joey!'

Joey stopped trying to change the subject and swallowed, wondering where to start. 'What happened tonight…shouldn't 'ave happened, sweet'eart. It was 'cause o' me dad- I've told you about him. He's somewhat wanderin' and…'

'And doesn't think before 'e acts, and wanders off unintentionally with corporation carts, I know,' Martina sounded a bit more like herself now, as opposed to a more hysterical version, but Joey knew he was far from off the hook. 'You've played me that one before.'

'Well he got himself in a spot of trouble- lost a fair bit o' money after…' hmm, how did he phrase this?

'After what?'

'After…er…a rather irresponsible…discussion…'

Discussion wasn't the right word at all, but Martina could see through him well enough to work out what he meant.

'Yer mean gamblin'?'

'When I said 'discussion' I was puttin' it rather lightly…'

'Oh, that's what you call it? Puttin' it lightly?'

'Anyway,' Joey was determined to get this out, 'they knew I was 'is son, and when he didn't pay up, they targeted me instead, knowin'…'

'That you somehow have managed to drain the state of all its money? I'm not surprised they targeted you.'

'Well there you are then. Is that honest enough for you, sunshine?'

'No. I told you, I want the whole truth. You've met them before, 'aven't you? You told me they persuaded you to sell stolen goods. 'ow many other dodgy deals like that do you make?'

'I said they blackmailed me! And I didn't do it- that's why they told Roxy's husband about…'

'I know, I know,' Martina cut him off, but this time her voice was softer, less demanding. 'But put yerself in my position, Joey. I spend me whole nightmare of a life inside a glass lie detector listenin' to one excuse after another- and just knowin' that people are up to something. And then to 'ave to go through all that again in me private life…'ow is this ever gonna work, Joey? Let's face it- it just isn't.'

Joey's adrenaline went into overdrive at this last remark. She couldn't end this. Not now. Not when he'd just realised, when he'd just confessed to his Dad that he might l…no, he couldn't let this end. He forced himself not to let his panic show. If he started carrying on it would work her up even more, and then there'd be no hope for a sensible discussion. He had to stay calm. Joey had talked his siblings through a million family crises by keeping a cool head while the others blew up.

'Now, look,' he said, sitting down beside her, 'what happened tonight has nothin' to do with me ordinary life, or the fam-ily, or me leather gear- or anythin'. I wouldn't willingly take part in an exchange like that, unless it was absolutely necessary.' He didn't feel it was necessary to mention how he did manage to afford all his expensive possessions- they'd agreed from the beginning to separate DHSS matters from their personal lives, and Joey intended to stick with that for as long as it was possible to do so without tearing them apart. He reminded her of that and she calmed a little more, though she still didn't look happy.

'Look,' Joey said again, 'I know tonight's been rough on you, sweetheart, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I might've endangered you, and I'm sorry I might've upset you. But I've told you as much as you need to know, and I can assure you, angel, that though I may be cheatin' the Social Security a little bit, I'm not a crook. I'm not Shifty. Okay?' It was the best he could do without pouring out emotions and losing credibility. Even so much as a whiff of sentiment and Martina would instantly suspect him of trying to trick her.

There was a very pregnant pause, during which Joey felt nervous, uncomfortable and sticky in all his leather. He shifted about on the sofa, fiddled with one of the gold rings on his right hand, then with his watch, then with the zip on his jacket.

Martina was still staring ahead, though he could see her watching him from the corner of her eye. Joey got the impression it pleased her to see him squirm a bit. The corner of her mouth was twitching. He told himself he was letting her enjoy it, though in actuality he didn't have much choice. He was about to sweat through his shirt- all this waiting was torture.

'Did you say you were cheatin' the DHSS?' Martina said slowly, turning around and letting the twitch turn into a familiar- and, Joey had to admit, welcome- evil smirk. 'I mean, did you actually admit that in front o' me?'

'I never said that,' said Joey. 'And there's no-one to prove that I did.'

'Yeah, you did say that, son!' came Freddie's muffled cry, from a proximity that could only be achieved by listening at the door. Joey rolled his eyes and Martina's face couldn't seem to decide between amusement and smugness. 'Have you two settled up yet? Can I bring this tea in yet or what?'

Joey looked to Martina for a response.

'Should we call a truce, eh, sweetheart? I think we've more than fulfilled our quota- two rows in one day…'

Martina smiled resignedly.

He nudged her, raising his eyebrows. 'And both because you were overreactin'.'

'Well, I might've been overreactin' about this,' Martina said, though something in her face suggested to Joey that she wasn't quite sure of herself, 'but I'm not gonna forget what you said. If I can get you to admit that again, inside the DHSS- I'll 'ave you right where I want yer.'

'And on that day,' Joey said, feeling quite comfortable now to tease her back, 'I shall eat me leather jacket.' He ruffled her hair in the way he knew got on her nerves.

'Oh, yeah? I'll start marinading it to cook for you. What sauce would you like?' She snickered, and Joey breathed a discreet sigh of relief. She seemed to have forgiven him- for the time being, anyway.

'Comin' through!' the kitchen door slammed open and Freddie bustled through, trying to balance three cracked, mismatched cups in his hands and spilling most of the contents all over himself in the process. He raked his eyes over his ragged, now tea-stained form and laughed. 'Not used to havin' company.'

Freddie dumped the three cups on what passed for his coffee table, and Joey held his breath for a moment, expecting what was left of the tea to go everywhere. Satisfied that he'd managed to survive the experience somehow, the wandering father of the Boswell clan turned to Martina, wiping his hand on his baggy jumper and holding it out to her.

'Er, I don't believe we've been introduced. I'm Freddie Boswell- Joey's dad.' He shot Joey a pointed look with a wink. 'And this is my flat you're in.'

In the course of the one utterance he'd managed to make both Joey and Martina embarrassed at once- Joey because of the rather over-the-top glances he was giving him, and the DHSS lady because she had already felt perturbed enough about her presence here, without Freddie drawing attention to the fact.

Nonetheless, Martina managed to suppress this feeling of embarrassment, shaking the hand he offered her and offering a greeting. Joey watched the pair with apprehension. This was a strange end to the even stranger turn of events that had taken place today. Without warning or planning, Martina was meeting one member of his family, and this, in Joey's mind, seemed to seal the two of them more firmly together. Granted, this wasn't as much of a big deal as if she were being faced with Nellie and the whole clan, but it was a start.

It was odd, watching the DHSS lady talk with his father. She seemed quite interested in his tales of what it was like to push a dustcart, then a hot dog cart, and Joey wondered just what category she was filing it all under in her brain: blackmail, entertainment, things to make fun of him about later, things to assist her bring about Joey's financial downfall…

She asked a few questions about Joey and his father readily supplied answers- in more detail perhaps than Joey would have liked, and in return she let him know about some of Joey's DHSS shenanigans, and by the time the clock on the wall struck eleven, the three of them were all engaged in quite a friendly conversation, and Joey's worries about Martina no longer trusting him were slipping to the back of his mind.

'What I don't understand,' Freddie said, now turning to the mugs of tea which had been ignored for quite some time, 'is-you're a bright girl, Martina. And pretty for all that. What do want with this lad 'ere?'

'Dad!' Joey protested.

Freddie disregarded him and moved in closer. 'Has 'e been tryin' that charm thing on you?'

Martina raised one brow. 'Oh yeah,' she said, clearly enjoying this, 'he 'as. 'e tries that a lot, does your Joey. Every time he sets foot in the DHSS it's wall to wall smiles and fancy words…but I've never fallen for that once. I have other reasons.'

'So she says,' Joey said, getting his own back for her deliberate taunting.

'Hanky panky reasons, is it?' asked Freddie, desperate to get the last embarrassing word.

'Dad!'

Joey walked her all the way up to her front door this evening, linking her arm through his like a gentleman as they ascended the stairs to her flat.

'Well, Mister Boswell,' Martina said, using his surname this time in keeping with the chivalry act, 'you certainly do provide eventful entertainment for a girl, don't you?'

'Just tryin' to make things memorable for you, angel,' Joey said, playing along, 'just tryin' to make things memorable. You'll never be able to forget me after all we've been through together- in the last few hours alone!'

'I doubt I'd be able to forget you anyway, Joey,' Martina said, and Joey raised both his eyebrows with an obnoxious 'ohhh' noise.

'I didn't mean it like that, Joey,' Martina narrowed her eyes. 'I meant who in my profession would be able to forget the scourge of the DHSS?'

'Is that what they call me? The scourge of the DHSS?'

'Well, it's what I called you, anyway.'

Joey laughed, then turned as Martina got her key out and unlocked her door, grabbing her round the waist and pulling her into his arms. 'Are you okay now, sweetheart?'

'About what this time? You're always askin' me that.'

'You know about what.' Joey was being serious once more. He couldn't leave her without ensuring she was no longer still angry about all that had gone on.

She rolled her eyes. 'Yes, I'm all right.' Before his smile could break out, though, she continued. 'Provided we never mention any o' that mobster business again, and there are no repeats…'

'Seems a good plan to me,' said Joey, taking a long goodnight kiss from her now he'd been reassured. 'You know what?' he added as an afterthought. 'You met me dad today, and you survived it. You know what that means?'

'I'm becoming desensitised to Boswell behaviour?'

'It means you're startin' to turn into a Boswell yourself!'

'Heaven forbid! Though I must admit, I don't quite see your logic there, Joey…'

'Just windin' you up, sweetheart. Just windin' you up.' He chuckled. 'Well…aren't you gonna let me in?'

Martina smirked. 'No.'

Joey didn't look the least bit affronted- he had only asked to annoy her further, and hadn't expected a yes, but nonetheless decided to take her negative response as a challenge. 'Don't I deserve at least some coffee after all the eventful entertainment I supplied you with?'

'You deserve a slap after what you put me through. I'd be happy to give you that, if you'd like.'

'Or perhaps I'd better quit while I'm ahead,' grinned Joey. 'Shall I see you tomorrow?'

'We'll see.' She took hold of his shirt collar, pulling him towards her and giving him a playful kiss before shutting the door in his face.

Chapter Text

'How would you like to go on a holiday?'

'Not really.'

'Wrong answer.'

Martina rolled her eyes. 'I wasn't aware I was on a quiz show.'

'Oh you are, sweetheart, you are. It's called Life, with your magnificent host Joey Boswell.'

'Oh, yeah? And what do I get if I win?'

'You get,' said Joey, producing a glossy booklet from behind his back, 'an all-expenses paid trip to Rome!'

'Can I exchange it for cash?'

Joey was visibly disappointed by her lack of enthusiasm. 'Do my ears deceive me, or are you honestly saying you don't want to run off with me to Italy?'

'No, your ears seem to be right on the ball.' Martina wasn't fooled- he wasn't suggesting some sort of romantic getaway. Not that he wouldn't ever do that sort of thing- Joey was all for grand gestures, but if he'd been planning a trip for just the two of them, he would have come round to her flat to break the news, not the DHSS. This sounded like a claiming sort of thing.

'Why not?'

'How do I explain this so you'll understand? In this game of Life, as you put it, Mister Boswell, believe it or not, there is a special round known as work, which many players like to do to earn themselves more points,' by 'points' she meant money, 'unlike those of you who prefer to follow a book o' cheats.'

'Can't you take sick days or somethin'?'

Joey Boswell's grand solution to everything- skive off work. Barely a few days would go by without him ringing her up to suggest it- it's a lovely day, sunshine, wag work and we'll go somewhere nice. Oh, sweetheart, they won't notice if you phone in sick for one day. I feel like going to Manchester tomorrow. Skive off and get on a bus and join me. If she was totally honest, Martina wouldn't have minded getting out of her plastic lie-box for a day and 'going somewhere nice', but the more Joey hassled her about those sorts of things, the more determined she became that she was going to be responsible. The thought had crossed her mind at some stage that, though her comments about those behaviours of his which she found slightly immoral went unnoticed, perhaps if she set a good example and stood firm, Joey might start to learn a few responsibilities himself.

'No, Mister Boswell. I couldn't.'

Joey paused for a minute, then slapped a grin on his face and tried a different approach. 'We're goin' to Rome!'

'No, we're not.' Martina busied herself with some paperwork from her in tray.

'Or, to put it another way, we, the fam-i-ly, are goin' to Rome.'

'Oh, great! Don't forget to write.' She didn't even bother to look up. Just as she suspected. He had an ulterior motive, and that was to get the Social Security to pay for the Boswells' annual vacation.

'Oh, I won't need to write. You're comin'.'

'I thought you were goin' with yer family!'

'We agreed we could bring people!'

'I am not goin' abroad with a pack o' Boswells!'

'Still too soon?' They had settled into what resembled a routine over the past few months, having begun to grow a bit more accustomed to one another's company and habits, but there was still one issue they couldn't agree on- what length of time was considered 'appropriate' before Joey broke the news of their relationship to the rest of the Boswell clan and brought her home to meet them. Still consciously wary of taking things too fast after her disastrous two-week romance with Shifty, Martina continued to use the excuse that she needed a little more time, that really they hadn't been together all that long and there was no need to rush. And so time and time again, he'd brought it up and she'd said no.

It didn't help matters that Joey's ideas of how to introduce her were downright terrible. It had been his sister's wedding a few weeks ago, and he'd thought the official invitation (totally unnecessary, seeing as he was her brother and would be going regardless) which read 'plus one' out of mere formality had been the perfect opportunity. It had been left up to Martina- who, for the record, hadn't even known he'd had a sister up until that point- to point out that an occasion like that would most certainly not be a good time to spring such a surprise on his unsuspecting relatives.

'But what are you waitin' for?' Joey had asked her. 'What are you afraid of?'

Martina hadn't had the first idea how to respond to that. What was she waiting for? It had been nearly four months now after all. What was she afraid of? Far too many things, she realised, though she adamantly told Joey she wasn't afraid at all. The fear that Joey was merely using her for more benefits had ebbed away quite quickly, and though her suspicions still remained regarding the Yizzel incident, she'd pushed them firmly to the back of her mind for the time being and fenced them in. She couldn't even bring herself to be that bothered about what his siblings would say if they knew- if they couldn't accept the fact that Joey was going out with the DHSS lady that was their own problem.

It was more to do with a fear she couldn't quite name. It just seemed such an enormous step. Martina felt that, if she did that, she would be confirming something, making some sort of huge commitment. It would mean she really was in this for the long haul, and it had been all right when it had started out and seemed casual enough, and she was taking each day as it came. If she let herself be officially introduced to Joey's family, as his actual proper girlfriend, then she was confirming to herself that she was in, that this really was serious, that she really might actually properly feel…love for Joey Boswell.

It was an idea she hadn't been able to get out of her head for some time now. She'd be lying awake mulling over some Joey Boswell-related incident, whether it be a pleasing one or an infuriating one, and the thought would just pop out. Ah, it was nice of Joey to remember my birthday. Ah, I love him. No, no, not love! Or perhaps oh, I could just kill Joey Boswell. To think that he spent three quarters of an hour arguing because he wanted his Grandad to have two more allowances- completely wasted my time, ah, but I do love him. And that obnoxious smile…I do love that smile, though. No, NO, NOT LOVE!

This was what frightened her. This thought. This tiny little thought about love. So, for the time being, she had decided to pretend to herself that she'd never had it. She'd work out what to do in due course.

'Do you really wanna break it to them like that?' she settled for in response to his question. It was the same retort she'd used with the Aveline's wedding suggestion, but it had worked before, so chances were it'd work again.

Joey wasn't fazed by this. 'Well, then, how about comin' along secretly?' He leaned right over the counter til his head came through into her side of the partition. 'What d'you say, angel?'

'Oh, good plan,' Martina said, looking up for the first time in minutes and assuming a sarcastic smile. 'I'll 'ide in yer carry-on bag, shall I?'

'I didn't mean it like that,' said Joey, 'although it'd be fun tryin' to smuggle you through customs!'

Martina planted her face in her palm.

'I meant,' Joey went on, 'I'll get you a ticket, you get on the plane and we meet up when we get there. It's a brilliant plan!'

'No!' said Martina mock-cheerily. 'It isn't!'

'And what is so un-brilliant about it?'

'Well, won't the rest of the Boswell herd notice if you disappear as soon as you arrive in Rome? They'll all be stampedin' off to find you. That's a start.'

'Ah, but- I have thought this through, you see, sweetheart, -they won't. Because during the day I shall be with them. Follow them round, see their needs are met, and so on and so forth. You can entertain yourself for a while. Then, in the evening, I make some excuse, sneak off to your hotel, you answer the door in seductive garb, and off we go to do the town in style.'

Martina made a choking noise. 'And what am I supposed to do all day while you're gallivanting off in Rome with the rest of the little Boswells?'

'What do you mean, what are you supposed to do? You'll be in Rome! There are hundreds of things to do, surely!'

'No.'

'But think about it…'

'Hmm,' she pretended to do so, 'no.'

'Don't you want to spend time with me in Rome?'

'I see enough of you in England, thank you very much.'

'But really, properly think about it, sunshine. You and me in Italy, with the moonlight glistening off the cobbled streets, while the sound of beautiful music fills the air…'

'Ohh,' Martina snickered, 'it's the Italian version of the typical Boswell speech…'

'Well.' Joey sighed, looking thoroughly disappointed, 'this talk of Boswell speeches does remind me- while I'm here, and seein' as you work for such a generous department…'

'I see where you're goin' with this, Mister Boswell,' Martina flicked her DHSS lady switch and assumed her frostiest face. 'You want us to pay for yer holiday. How are you gonna trick us into believin' this one's to do with yer strugglin' family? Holidays are luxuries, not essentials.'

Joey smiled.

Oh no, thought Martina, and said it as well.

'Well, you see, our Grandad, whose poor little body is about to disintegrate, and whose mind is slowly fadin' like the end of a mournful song…'

'Violin time,' muttered Martina.

'…would like to enjoy one last holiday before his days come to a pitiful stop. As you know, he is not long for this world…'

'You can't fool me with that one. 'e's got the entire family runnin' after 'im, wrappin' 'im in cotton wool so that no harm can ever come to 'im. He's gonna make it to a hundred and three, that one.'

'Sooooo,' Joey pretended to be looking through his holiday brochure, 'how much will the state pay towards his last ever holiday?'

It was as if she hadn't even spoken. She glared.

'Nothing.'

Joey dropped the brochure back down to the desk. 'So, are you sayin' that you won't give me a form for this family necessity…'

'Family necessity!' scoffed Martina.

'And,' Joey went on, 'that you won't even come with me either?'

'Sounds about right, yeah.' She picked up her pen and turned back to her work. Joey made no move to leave, and she knew he wasn't going to give up on either point so easily. He was merely working on another plan of attack.

'You look especially beautiful today, sweetheart.'

Oh, that one. The old classic. Flattery. She looked up, staring at him with the hope of intimidating him.

'That's a pretty blouse you've got on there- 's got a nice…diamond-y pattern on it…very diamond-y.'

Martina just sat staring at him.

'Diamonds are nice,' Joey finished pathetically.

Oh, well. I'll call his bluff.

'Oh, thanks,' she said, casting an obligatory glance down at her shirt. 'I bought it for work, which I have a lot of to do at present. Now off you go.'

Joey opened his mouth.

'Next!' Martina called with a fierce smile of victory. And with that, another client stepped up to the counter, and Joey Boswell was forced to admit defeat. But, Martina thought with a shake of her head at his endearing obnoxiousness, she had a feeling she hadn't heard the last of this.

'Now just a minute, you can't start tellin' me what I can and can't pack in me own case! Go and see to Grandad- that's what you're paid for!'

'You invited me, Shifty! You face the consequences!'

'Ding-dong!' said Joey impatiently from his spot in the doorway. He'd been watching Celia and Shifty argue for a full five minutes now without being noticed, and it was beginning to get tiresome. The rowing duo stopped what they were doing at once and turned to face him.

'Everythin' all right here?' Joey asked.

'All under control,' Celia said cheerfully.

'Or at least it was until she started pokin' her nose in!' snapped Shifty. 'Tryin' to tell me how to fold me clothes and what to pack- no peace, I tell you! No peace!'

Joey cut in before they could start up another row. 'Er, I take it Celia's comin' with us to Rome, then?'

The rage instantly disappeared from Shifty's face and was replaced with a sort of lecherous cheer. 'Yes. She's comin'.'

'Great,' Joey smiled. 'I just need to make sure, so I can book all the tickets in time. I'll leave you to it then.' He nodded and made to leave, then paused. There was really something he needed to talk over with Shifty, and he might as well get it over with now. 'Er- Shifty?'

He turned back around to see his cousin and his neighbour frozen in the middle of a tug-of-war with the duster. 'Yes?' said Shifty through his teeth, apparently desperate to get back to his fight.

'Can I have a word with you?' he jerked his head towards the door, and, with a noise of annoyance at Celia, Shifty dropped his end of the duster and followed his cousin out into the street.

'She's lethal with that duster. I might have to destroy it when I get the chance- not that I ever do get the chance. She's never out o' Grandad's house.'

Joey shook his head. 'I thought you said she was growin' on you? Why'd you ask her to Rome if she gets on your nerves?'

Shifty shrugged. 'Well, sometimes, when she's not trying to suck me up the hoover bag or poison Grandad and me by overfeedin' us…' he gave a sheepish look, 'I do find myself feeling those familiar flutterings of love…'

'Well, you would find them familiar,' Joey muttered. 'You've felt those more than the rest of us put together.'

Shifty made a face that indicated he wasn't going to argue with that. 'Speaking of which, what have you got to say on the matter? Got any flutterings yourself yet?'

Joey opened his mouth, his gob having decided to say yes without consulting the rest of him, and he hastily shut it.

Shifty eyed him. 'Haven't heard much from you on that front for a while- you still with Martina?'

The eldest Boswell smiled in spite of himself. 'That I am, son. That I am.'

'Ah, still managing to keep that up. Well, good luck to you- she's a fine woman, that one. And that voice…' The Irishman seemed to have come over a bit on the dreamy side, and Joey felt a horrible shudder go through him.

'Eh,' he said, giving his cousin a bit of a shake, 'don't you go gettin' all poetic about Martina. She's mine now.' He kept his tone light, lending his words an air of the half-joke whole-earnest.

'I told you didn't I- it's Celia that's growin' on me heart!'

Joey relaxed part of him tutting at the expression his cousin had used. There was something not quite right about the way he saw women- as his latest comment suggested, like some sort of weed that choked your emotive organs. He couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for Celia.

'Well,' he went on, remembering he was on a mission, 'that was what I wanted to talk to you about, son. You see-'

'Ahhhh,' said Shifty before Joey could get to the point. 'You want to take her with you to Rome- don't you?' His voice had climbed an octave, as it tended to do when he was patronising someone, and Joey had to refrain from causing him some bodily harm in his annoyance.

'Yeah,' he admitted quietly, not letting it get the better of him. 'That is me plan, anyway.'

'Does that mean you're gonna spill it to Auntie Nellie?'

'I don't know,' Joey said. 'Not while we're in Rome anyway…'

'Ahhhh,' said Shifty again, waggling his eyebrows. 'She's goin' in secret, then? And they call me Shifty…'

'Only if I can convince her,' Joey said, making a point of ignoring the conclusions Shifty was jumping to. 'Anyway, that's not the point. I'm only tellin' you 'cause you already know about it, and if, say, I disappeared for a while…'

'You want me to cover for you,' Shifty finished with a conspiratorial wink. 'Make your excuses, so you can…'

'Yeah I think you've got it, son,' Joey said before his cousin could start making any more wrong conclusions about what he meant to say. 'That's right. And there is another thing…look,' this was getting more and more difficult, 'at some point, though, in the near future, I am hopin' to bring 'er round.'

'Gettin' serious, is it?' If Shifty waggled his eyebrows one more time, Joey didn't think he could be held responsible for his actions.

'Yes, Shifty,' he said, 'and I would appreciate it if- well, if there wasn't a scene when I did.'

He stopped to let this sink in.

'I know what you're sayin', Joey- what would you like me to do, up and abscond? I'll go and make meself scarce- hide at Celia's place while you've got her within a ten mile radius of the street…'

'Don't go over the top, son! Nobody wants you to up and abscond, or hide at Celia's place, just…well, don't say or do anythin' that might, you know, lead to a…scene.'

Joey felt this was a pathetic finish to a not-so-straightforward sentence, but he couldn't work out how else to put it. He wanted terribly to bring Martina and his family- all his favourite people- together, and have it work out. It hadn't been a huge success with Roxy. Adrian's Carmen had come, but nobody had liked her, and with Billy's Julie it had been a total disaster. Martina was special, and as such he wanted her to have a special place in his life. But in order to make that work, she needed to get on with the family.

And it would be very hard to arrange a proper meeting if there were going to be violent skirmishes between her and his cousin.

'That's easy enough for you to say- saying or doing anything that leads to a scene with her is...just sayin' or doin' anything! I only need to walk into the DHSS and all hell breaks loose.'

Joey put his hand over his eyes. Still as bad as all that. It wasn't that he wanted Martina and Shifty to get over-friendly again- it would just be nice if they could, perhaps, act civil to each other long enough for him to get her past him and to the rest of the family. Over the past few months, Joey had been having long, lingering thoughts about love. The more time he spent with her, the more convinced he became that this was right, that perhaps one day she might become family. And if that happened, she'd be spending a lot more time around Kelsall Street. And if she was going to spend more time around Kelsall Street, she'd have to be able to see Shifty passing without wanting to destroy him.

'Well, Shifty, you can't blame 'er, can you, sunshine? I mean, you and women- it's a dangerous combination. You really let 'em down, don't you?'

Shifty opened his mouth to say something but Joey kept on going.

'And then you try and make excuses, turn it round so it looks like you were the one that was let down.'

'Oh, take their sides, why don't ya!'

'Couldn't you just apologise to 'er or somethin'?'

'For what?'

Joey raised his eyes to heaven. For what indeed. Shifty'd never learn.

'For my sake?'

'If I try that she'll mob me. Why are you so desperate for me to put me dangly bits on the line? I risk 'em enough with Celia in the house!'

Joey was getting increasingly frustrated. 'Because, son…' his voice softened as he spoke. It was the first time he'd admitted this out loud. 'I love her.'

That shut Shifty up. At the same time, Joey had a strange feeling of déjà vu. It hadn't been that long ago it had been Shifty confessing to Joey that he thought he loved Martina. What exactly did that say about the pair of them?

'You…love her?'

'Yes, son. I love her.' Repeating it was easier once he said it once. His voice was stronger this time. 'And I think you were right when you said it was serious.' He explained his earlier thoughts about families and civility, and Shifty seemed to understand.

'Have you told her yet?'

Joey shook his head.

'Are you gonna?'

Joey nodded.

'When?'

'Oh, I don't know, son. When it seems right. And in the meantime, it would mean a lot if you'd go and make amends.'

'Just so you can have a happy ending with her? Doesn't seem fair to me. Why should I do you a favour like that and put meself at risk?'

'When you first got out o' prison, who was it that brought you home, that argued with me Mam to let you stay?'

Shifty sighed, shrugging his scrawny shoulders. 'Oh, all right. If it means that much to yer. But you can pay for me reconstructive surgery.'

Joey gave a nod of thanks. He wasn't sure how this would work out- sending Shifty to talk to Martina could be disastrous for so many reasons. He had a dozen worries. Martina being furious about him going down there and being cross at Joey for suggesting it. Martina not being furious about Shifty's apology and the two of them getting back together again.

But he wanted to tie up all the loose ends in his life, and this was one of them. He wanted to get the possibility of an angsty confrontation out of the way, so he could introduce Martina to his family in peace. Which he fully intended to do- the minute they got back from Rome. He'd work out a way to talk her into it while he was there- he'd have plenty of free time.

And perhaps, he thought, if Shifty was no longer a problem, Martina wouldn't be so bothered about meeting the rest of the Boswells. Perhaps that was what was holding her back. She might even change her mind and come to Rome with him properly (he still hadn't given up on getting her to come secretly, but if he could bring her officially it would be better).

That was one thing he wanted tied up. The other thing was his own feelings. He couldn't remember when he'd decided it definitely was love. Perhaps it was when he'd been in his dad's flat, and he'd admitted it was close. Perhaps it was when he was worried he'd lose her when she became jealous of Roxy. Perhaps, he thought, it was long before that, really, only he hadn't properly noticed. But whenever it was, he was certain of it now. He loved her, and he wanted to tell her. And, no matter what the outcome of the Shifty visit or their holiday plans, he had made up his mind to tell her before the family left for Rome, and that was precisely, he thought, what he was going to do.

Chapter Text

It wasn't always a relief to Martina to finally hang the 'CLOSED' sign above the DHSS partition. By no means did it signify the end of a working day-rather, it signalled the worst part of the day: rowdy, aggressive clients refusing to believe her when she said they were no longer serving, demanding forms of her she wasn't supposed to give for the sheer fact that they were too late. Once she got through a couple of waves of those, only then could she start to think about packing up and heading home.

Over the years, she'd been greeted by some strange sights. She smirked as she remembered one particular occasion when a scruffy mongrel dog had trotted up and settled into the chair behind her desk, carrying with him a note complaining about his allowance, and soon after Joey had strolled in on the falsely innocent motive of looking for his lost pet. Joey always had had a way of making his visits more entertaining than the average rabble. He always made for an interesting challenge, even in the olden days, and she had to admit, it had always been fun trying to pit wits with him, rise to his challenges, match him blow for blow. She'd had some creative ideas of her own to get him back as well.

Martina was sitting back in her chair, an absent smile on her face as she went through some of these more memorable encounters when another strange sight turned up in front of her desk. This one, however, wasn't a pleasantly amusing strange sight- it was a scruffy, shrugging, simpering Irish sight, and Martina felt her mouth immediately tighten into a thin line.

'Get out.'

It had been at least six months, but Shifty's presence still wanted to make her gouge his eyes out with some sort of rusty implement. Of course, doing something like that would get her imprisoned, so she had settled for doing as many nasty things to him as were allowed, such as tearing up his forms or refusing to serve him.

'I can explain.'

'Next!' cried Martina automatically.

'There's no-one else here, Martina. You 'ave to listen to me.'

She gritted her teeth. 'Wanna bet?'

Martina stood up so fast her chair tipped backwards and crashed onto the floor. Snatching up all her things, she made to leave, when Shifty leaned through the window and grabbed hold of her arm.

'Let go,' she growled.

'Just 'ear me out, I'm begging yer!'

Actually shaking with rage, she picked up her chair and sat down in it, angling it as far away from Shifty as she could in the confined space. 'There is nothin', Shifty Boswell- nothing you can say that can explain what you did to me.'

'Well how about this?'

Martina folded her arms. 'This'll be good,' she said sarcastically.

Shifty slapped his hands on the desk. 'I'm sorry.'

'Don't try to- what?'

He shrugged. 'I'm sorry. That's it.'

She frowned. 'And you think sorry's gonna make up fer it, do you, Shifty?'

'Well, I thought it might 'elp…'

'Forget it.'

'Look, I know I did the wrong thing…'

'Oh, that's a change. You usually vehemently deny doin' anythin' wrong- and I know about you- about 'ow you've been to prison, 'ow you're constantly stealin' things- all of which you lied to me about…'

'How did you know…' Shifty began, and then changed his mind. 'Oh. Of course.'

Martina narrowed her eyes in suspicion. What did he mean by that? Did he know something? Never mind about that now. She had to get rid of him.

'Let me make this quite clear, Shifty. I don't want anythin' ter do with yer.' She leaned forward for emphasis. 'Ever, ever again.'

'I'm not askin' you to come back, if that's what you mean…'

'Shifty, I've met someone else!' the words flew from her mouth before she'd had a chance to stop them. Oh, now she'd done it. She and Joey weren't supposed to be telling anyone else about their relationship- at her request, and she'd gone and blurted something like that. If he asked her who, she couldn't tell him, and if she didn't, he wouldn't believe her.

But the offshoot of the Boswell family didn't look in the least bit surprised. On the contrary, a lascivious smile appeared on his face. 'No you haven't.'

'I can assure you-'

'No, I mean you haven't just met him, 'ave you?' He winked. 'You've known him for aaaages!'

Martina pursed her lips again. He knows something. He knows something he shouldn't.

'What are you insinuating?' she growled.

'I'm not insinuating anything!' Shifty gave her his most awful feigned innocence look. 'I know you're seein' someone else- that's all right, you know!'

'Why, thank you,' said Martina. 'It's nice to have yer permission.'

Shifty didn't see the irony. 'You're welcome. And I just wanted to apologise- to wipe the slate clean, you see?'

She eyed him suspiciously again. 'Why are you actin' like this?'

'Actin' like what?'

'All right, Shifty. Spit it out. What's goin' on? You know somethin'- don't yer?'

'Don't get angry,' said Shifty, which automatically made Martina feel cross. 'But I might know a thing or two.'

Martina said nothing, just folded her arms and waited for him to get on with it.

Shifty was living up to his name, shifting around in his chair, becoming less comfortable by the second. Eventually realising Martina wasn't going to ask, he reluctantly continued on his own.

'Okay, look, all right, I admit it. I know about you and our Joey.'

There. He'd said it. She'd been beginning to suspect as much, but Martina was still horrified to hear it all the same. How dare Joey tell people without her permission- and Shifty of all people! The one person who she loathed most in the world after what he did- why would Joey do something like that?

Her face must have betrayed her feelings on the matter, as Shifty immediately started trying to explain himself. 'No, no, don't think he's been goin' round broadcasting it…it's only me who knows.'

Martina decided she would wait a little while before believing that.

'Well he came to ask me, didn't he? Ask me if we were well and truly split up- before he made his move, like. Said he didn't wanna if there was still somethin' between us. By that time I'd given up hope of ever getting you to forgive me.'

'Wise,' said Martina in response to the last comment, though she was cooling down both with Joey and, inadvertently, with him. This, at least, sounded a bit better, and her own embarrassment was what was making her stay angry at Joey. Every time she had a low opinion of him, or accused him of something unsavoury, she turned out to be completely wrong. And, of course, it was far easier to be cross at him for that rather than admit her own error and acknowledge she had a far too suspicious mind.

'And did you come 'ere just ter gloat that you knew?' she continued.

'No, I told you! I came to apologise!'

Something fishy was still going on here. 'Why now?'

'To…make things easier for Joey, I suppose. Don't wanna spring this on yer, but I think he's plannin' to make you meet the family soon.'

'I know.' He wasn't exactly springing this on her, but this did add a new dimension to the whole situation. Did Joey so desperately want to have her around the Boswells that he wanted her to make up with Shifty? She didn't know if that was sweet or terrible of him. And what to do? She couldn't stand the sight of Shifty, and every syllable he spoke reminded her of his lies, of how he had betrayed her. But Joey, on the other hand…she was growing fonder of him with each passing day, and he'd done so much for her. Perhaps it was time to start acting civil to Shifty again. After all, she was well and truly over him. She no longer loved him even one bit- all of her attention in that department was well and truly fixed on Joey.

Oh, what am I thinking? Am I admittin' once and for all that I love Joey Boswell?

'Shifty,' she began. 'What you did was inexcusable. You broke me 'eart, you know, and that's not somethin' that's easy to forgive. And I won't forgive yer- not straight away. In time I will, but not instantly, you understand? These things take time. But, I suppose, I'll be more civil to yer from now on. For Joey's sake.'

Shifty, smiling, held out his hand, and she shook it, managing to tone her face down to only a mild look of distaste. It was strange, she thought as she looked at him, that she had once been in love with him- or at least thought herself in love. What had she seen in him? She supposed he had been nice to her at the time, and when they'd met, she hadn't realised he was diabolical.

'Well, that's done. Now you can clear off.'

Shifty looked far too pleased with himself.

'I'm doin' this for him, you know,' Martina felt the need to reiterate. 'I don't' tend to let people off the hook so easily. Especially villains like you.'

'Aw. Doing it for 'im. That's really sweet, that is.'

Martina rolled her eyes.

Shifty rose from his chair, and at long last looked like he was going to make tracks. 'He'll like hearing that. He loves you, you know. Totally. Madly. I 'spect he'll tell you, soon as he works up the nerve.'

And with that he oozed off, and Martina was left to ponder that particular bombshell. Joey loved her. Or Shifty seemed to think so, and he couldn't be counted as a completely reliable source, but still…

If he wasn't lying, then…Joey loved her. She told herself she shouldn't be feeling so excited about that. She had a reputation for being dark and frosty and cross, not for falling prey to every emotion that came her way.

She couldn't help it, though. All her fears about letting herself love him were gone for the moment. The only thing filling her mind were queries about when he might tell her. Should she tell him before he got the chance to? Martina liked to take charge, but that seemed a bit too risky. Supposing Shifty was mistaken or lying? It would be pure humiliation if it turned out he didn't really love her back, and this whole thing was just some big joke or worse.

Perhaps she should just wait a bit longer- for a more opportune moment. She'd watch Joey very carefully, try and ascertain if he was revving up to tell her something, and let events take their course.

When Joey rang Martina's doorbell that evening, he was shaking from head to foot. He hadn't called to tell her he was coming round, but the eldest Boswell had decided there wasn't time for such things. They were heading off for Rome tomorrow; if he was going to spit out an I love you before he left, well, he was rapidly running out of chances to do so. It would have to be tonight.

A little part of Joey still hoped perhaps he could wheedle her into coming on the trip with them, and he was going to have a quick pester before he took the plunge. If by some miracle she did concede, he would tell her in Italy instead, and, if truth be told, he'd prefer it that way. It would be the most wonderful thing to stand in some beautiful, historical site (he had in mind a place with a fountain, and he would be sure to find one), where he would take a nice long time to describe just how he felt, interspersed with kisses and lovely Italian music. He felt soppy just for thinking it, but Joey didn't care. Everyone got a bit soppy when they fell in love, didn't they? It just couldn't be helped.

'I 'ad a rather interestin' conversation today,' Martina said when she opened the door.

'Greetings! And a good evenin' to you too,' said Joey with a grin, just to keep up the image, and then let his curiosity get the better of him. 'What conversation was that then, sweetheart?'

'Your…Shifty,' she said the name with a good deal of disdain, 'came ter visit me this afternoon.'

'Oh, did he?' Joey pushed past her into her sitting room, flopping onto her sofa as if he owned it.

'Do make yerself at home!' She tutted and shook her head, but shut the door and moved in to join him.

Joey grinned, reaching out for her and pulling her into his lap. 'What happened, then? With our Shifty?' He wagered he already knew the answer, or rather, he hoped he did.

'Don't play that one, Joey. You know why 'e came down 'ere.' Martina crossed her arms. 'So, your Shifty's known about this from the beginnin', 'as 'e?'

She looked down at him as if to say is there something you wish to tell me? and Joey felt a little like a child being forced to confess before a good telling off. Joey shot her a charmingly guilty smile, coupled with a little laugh, and tried unsuccessfully to get her mind onto something else.

'You know, you do look stunningly beautiful in this light,' he said, playing with one of her curls, pulling it out straight and then letting go so it bounced back again. 'With the dim lamplight makin' your eyes sparkle…'

'Joey,' said Martina sternly, though she couldn't help smiling, so her sternness had no effect. 'You sound like you're layin' on the flattery thick because you're worried I might be cross with yer.'

Joey laughed again, to cover up the fact that she had hit the nail on the head. 'Of course not, sweetheart…are you?'

'That remains to be seen. What exactly does Shifty know? I find the idea of 'im knowin' all about me private life repulsive.'

'Don't forget, sunshine- he was your private life.'

'Don't be coarse. Answer me.'

' 'e only knows…' Joey sighed, tightening his arm round her waist. ' He only knows that you're seein' me, that's all. No details. It's not as if I go havin' an 'eart to 'eart with 'im about me love life! He's about the worst person to go to in terms of women!'

'And did you order 'im ter come and apologise ter me, bein' the great Godfather of the whole Boswell gang?' There was a playful edge to her voice which suggested he wasn't in humungous trouble.

'I didn't order, sweetheart, I merely suggested it. I don't have that sort of power- Grandad's the leader of our pack, remember!'

'Hypothetically.'

'What's that mean?'

'Well you seem to do most of the organisin', don't yer? From what you've told me, it's you and yer Mam that run that 'ousehold.'

'Grandad's still the head of our herd.'

'Listen who's talkin'. It's the Scouse David Attenborough.'

Joey chuckled, holding her closer still. He couldn't get enough of that wonderful sharp wit. It wasn't any wonder he was in love with her, he thought. She was fantastic, he thought. She was amazing, he thought. He was getting soppy again, he thought. And he turned his attention back to their original topic of conversation.

'You must know why I wanted Shifty to make it up with you, Martina. You're an important person in my life, angel,' he turned his face up to peck her jaw, 'and so are all the members of me family. It'd mean a lot if you could all…coexist.'

He paused to let this sink in. Martina was still and quiet in his arms, staring down at her lap. She knew exactly what he meant by that- he could tell. But there was something on her face he couldn't quite name. He'd gotten very used to all her facial expressions over the past few months, and had even found himself inadvertently categorising them, but this one was new, ambivalent and complicated.

'And besides,' he added, feeling perhaps he should say something else before she dwelled too much on his last comment, 'I've always felt terrible about the way he treated you, sunshine. Even at the time it worried me. You deserved at least the truth from 'im.'

Martina turned her head to stare him straight in the face, and for a moment Joey saw his own feelings parading across her features- a surge of deep emotion and affection and love (if he dared believe it was, perhaps she was just moved by his concern for her) welling up in her eyes.

'Martina, I-' he began, but the DHSS lady silenced him, bringing her lips to his and kissing him with unprecedented tenderness.

'Joey, about this determination you 'ave to get me together with yer family,' she said when she pulled back.

Something fluttered in Joey's heart. Was she finally about to give in?

'After you come back from Rome, we'll sort that out, all right?' She pressed a kiss to his temple, then rested her head against his. The fluttering in Joey's heart turned into a full-fledged thumping-heartbeat symphony. She was going to let him bring her home. She was going to let him tell the family. Joey felt like picking her up and dancing her around the room, but he feared that might look rather too ridiculous, and he might lose his air of dignity and style.

'Don't think you're always gonna get yer way by pesterin' me and tryin' tricks, though,' Martina added.

'Oh, of course not,' he grinned, easily lapsing into the old routine, 'but now I've pestered you into that…perhaps you'll think twice about comin' to Italy with me?'

'Don't push yer luck, Joey Boswell. I could change me mind about meetin' yer family if you don't behave yerself.'

'Ah, but you won't. My charm has finally worked its way into your heart- I always knew it would…'

'My fist might work its way into your gob in a minute…'

'You wouldn't want to ruin my beautiful face, would you, sunshine?'

'I don't know sometimes…' she leaned over him, kissing the corner of the gob she had just threatened to ruin. 'I wouldn't be able to do that, would I? But then again…' she raised her eyes upwards, pretending to consider, 'it might make my job easier- no smart gob tellin' me about yer family's woes…'

'But you'd miss it. You'd miss it, sweetheart. You'd be bored, stuck behind that partition without somethin' to look forward to…'

'Look forward to, eh?' she teased. 'And what would I 'ave to look forward to?'

'I can show you if you wish…' and he reached up and kissed her in order to show her just what she looked forward to each day. 'But…' he leaned back, and noticed with a smug sort of happiness that Martina seemed very frustrated about that, 'in all honesty, sweetheart, what have you got against comin' to Rome?'

'How many times, Joey? I've got a lot of work to do…'

'It'll be better than work!'

'…And I might actually be able ter get it done while the city is temporarily divested o' Boswells!'

Joey smiled. There was that wit again. He had to say it. He had to say it now- before he lost his nerve or the subject got changed again.

'Martina,' he began, shifting her off his lap so he could face her and take both her hands in his, 'can I just tell you how much I…'

'How much you what?'

Rring! Rring!

Joey screwed his eyes shut in annoyance. Reluctantly, he pulled his annoying, interrupting mobile from his pocket, giving it a dirty look for being so annoying and interrupting.

'Hello, yes?'

'Joey! Your Dad went out to get some air, and he hasn't been back for half an hour! I think he might've gone off to be with her! That TART!'

Well, so much for his plans. Joey jumped up from the sofa. Important declarations of love would have to wait.

Chapter Text

'Well, I'm off then.'

'That's the fourth time you've said that, and I've yet to see the back of you.'

'I'm goin'.'

Martina dropped her pen to the desk in frustration. 'Then go!'

Apparently, for Joey Boswell, even a simple 'I just popped in on my way to the airport to say goodbye' couldn't be, by any means, simple. It involved lots of hanging about and repetition and flattery. Much like when Joey was trying to claim for something he wasn't eligible for. Much like, come to think of it, when Joey was trying to do anything. Not that Martina wasn't secretly basking in all the attention. She loved the fact that he, Joey Boswell, was finding it difficult to part with her, that he was so reluctant to leave her behind. She'd never felt so wanted or desirable or heartbreakingly femme fatale-ish in all her life, and she was taking extra care to enjoy that as much as was humanly possible, playing her part to the full and giving him dark, frosty answers every time he pleaded with her to come with him.

'I'll be thinkin' of you,' Joey said, leaning over the desk and looking into her eyes, assuming his best (meaning it never worked) you're breaking my heart and I'm so sad expression, 'when I'm up there in one of the most romantic cities in the world, all on me own…'

'Good,' said Martina.

'…alone…'

'That is the very definition of bein' on yer own.'

'…without you…'

'Off you go, then.'

'Missin' your beautiful face at every moment…'

'Er, didn't you 'ave a taxi waitin'?'

Joey stopped mid-speech. She knew she had him there. Not only did he have a taxi waiting, but he had a taxi waiting with the whole family inside, who probably didn't know why he'd had to duck into the DHSS at the last minute, as well as having a plane to catch which wasn't going to wait. He'd have to leave soon, or else he wouldn't be going anywhere, with or without her.

'I suppose.' He leaned forward the extra few inches and made the most of his goodbye kiss. 'Don't forget me, now.'

'Oh, I won't.'

'I'll miss you, Martina.'

'I'll miss you too- now be off with yer.'

'I'll phone you every day.'

'You will not.'

'Before I go-'

'Get out of 'ere, Joey! Go on!' she smirked. 'Go and enjoy yerself at the state's expense.'

'Oh, I shall, but first, I just wanted to tell you…'

'Joey! The driver says he's gonna charge us an extra three quid for this waitin', and Mam sent me to see what was keepin' you!'

The loud, unwelcome intrusion bellowed its way into the room before the gob attached to it appeared. Whatever Joey was planning to say was lost as Billy's curly head poked through the double doors, followed by the rest of him. 'Why are you leaning on the counter like that?'

Joey, still in close proximity to Martina for kissing purposes, hastily withdrew himself and turned to his brother. 'I'm comin', son, don't sweat.'

'I don't see why you 'ad to come into the DHSS today,' Billy said, still loudly, 'I thought you said you'd settled it and they were already payin' for our 'oliday!'

Martina saw Joey's eyes widen as he cast a furtive, panicked glance around the rest of the Social Security office.

'Billy, I just wanted to check some last minute arrangements- now go and wait in the car,' he said through gritted teeth. 'I'll follow you, okay?'

Billy left with an oblivious shrug, and Joey, now unable to administer any more kisses with most of the occupants of the building looking at him, discreetly blew one to Martina instead.

'I'd better go.'

'Finally.'

'I'll see you.'

'Yeah, see yer.'

And, fifteen minutes after the original five he was supposed to be taking to say his goodbyes, Joey Boswell swaggered towards the door. Martina smiled fondly as she watched him go.

'Oh, Mister Boswell?' she called, unable to stop herself.

Joey turned his head but kept walking.

'Behave yerself.'

'I won't!' he called cheekily over his shoulder, and then he was gone.

It was only when they had about forty-five minutes of flight left that Adrian stopped feeling sick, and Shifty, Celia, Billy, Julie, his Mam and his Dad all gave up fighting in their respective couples. Joey never wanted to live through a plane trip like this again. He'd hoped for a bit of peace and quiet once they actually took off, in which to look forward to the holiday, think back to all the missed opportunities (or those ones ruined by various interrupting members of his family) he'd had to tell Martina he loved her and go over his secret plan to get Oswald to Rome as a surprise for Aveline. But no, none of the others seemed to realise just how complicated it was to be him, none of them showed the slightest consideration for the fact that being Joey Boswell was an occupation which took up a great deal of time and concentration. He had a lot to organise!

Across the aisle from him, Grandad was still grumbling about the meal on a tray he'd been given an hour ago, and sent back fifty-nine minutes ago, and the spittle which resulted from his non-stop string of complaints was ruining Aveline's attempt to do her nails. Joey turned his head to the left, trying to see past Adrian and out the window. If he made eye contact with those two, they'd undoubtedly start dragging him into their minor problems, and he couldn't be doing with that just now.

There wasn't much of a view from where he was sitting. Just past Adrian's curls he could see a little sliver of glass, a miserable sky sort of thing on the other side of it. Europe was somewhere under that mess of clouds below, Joey thought. He might as well try to have a look. He leaned over Adrian to get at the window.

'Ohh don't, Joey!' his brother moaned. 'You'll tip the plane!'

Joey sat back with a sigh. A sheen of sweat had come over Adrian's face again, and his eyes were getting that glazed-over look. He shut them and moaned again, and, with a roll of his eyes, Joey handed him the sick bag.

How was he supposed to think about important matters of the heart when all his family were being so…demanding?

Well, he decided, there was no use bothering with what could have been said now. He'd say it when he got back. In the meantime, he would keep his mind off the whole issue and spend this holiday with his family. He'd sort out Aveline by bringing Oswald up, he'd sort out Grandad by helping him find Edie Mathieson's old room and rekindle all his old memories, and be on hand for any of the others who happened to need him- for whatever reason. No reason to think about Martina and all the missed chances to tell her he loved her until he got back. He would put it out of his mind and concentrate on the here and now. And, if he got time, relax a bit too.

Right, then. Good. Family and relaxation. Only things he would think about this week. Good. Great. Done.

I wonder what she's doin' now…

I wonder what he's doin' now.

It was the third time Martina had thought that in the past hour, and if she thought it again, she was going to have to have a serious talk with herself. Anyway, he hadn't even been gone a whole day! He hadn't even been gone half a day, come to think of it. He'd probably be still on the plane, or maybe he'd just be getting to the hotel…

What was wrong with her? What had come over her that could completely entrap her mind like this- so she couldn't stop thinking about one person? That wasn't normal. That wasn't her.

Problem was she knew exactly what had come over her. She couldn't pretend anymore. She was in love. She was in love with a leather-wearing, Jaguar-driving, 'greetings'-saying Boswell, who she'd made it her life's ambition to hate and destroy. She was in love with the man whose downfall she was supposed to bring about, and who could bring about her downfall if she wasn't careful. She was in love with a man whom she didn't fully understand, who she didn't even know the whole truth about, who she didn't know if she could ever completely one hundred per cent trust.

And perhaps the even bigger problem here was that she was perfectly happy about that. Confused, but happy. She wanted to love him. She wanted to think about him. She wanted that guiltily happy feeling it gave her to dwell on him in her mind, to remember that adorably obnoxious smirk as he tried one last time to persuade her to go to Rome, and the way he looked in that white linen suit. She didn't remember ever having seen him in anything but leather before, and she had to admit he didn't half look handsome, strangely, excitingly different in holiday wear- it made a rather nice change…

Work. Think about work. You have a job, Martina. You have to do it.

'Next!' she called out, forcing the smile off her face as a middle-aged woman with bleached hair tottered up to her counter on six-inch heels. Time to start acting frosty again.

'Someone nicked me motorcycle,' said the woman. Martina stared at her in…well, not disbelief. After Joey Boswell had strolled into her life she would never disbelieve anything again, no matter how outlandish. Ah, Joey. I wonder what he's doin' right n-no. No I don't. I'm busy.

'And what's that gotta do with me?' she asked her client.

'What do you mean 'what's that gotta do with you?' You're the bleedin' Social Security lady! It's your job to reimburse me!'

'For essentials, yeah. I don't recall motorcycles being ever considered essential.'

'I need that to get about!'

'Couldn't yer just take the bus like normal people?'

'Listen, you stupid cow, don't you understand- you save and scrape to pay ya bills, you bleed ya energy dry workin' hour after hour…'

'Workin'? Really?'

The woman froze, seeming to realise her mistake, but then went on anyway. 'Sometimes you need somethin' to keep you going. Ya can't live just on essentials, or ya lose ya soul…' she looked over the partition Martina was encased behind, then at Martina herself, then snorted. 'Probably already 'appened to you.'

Martina was incensed. She tensed her shoulders and gritted her teeth, forcing down the urge to shout at the idiot, ask how dare she assume Martina didn't have a soul- she had a perfectly good soul thank you very much…

'What's the problem wif owning the odd luxury, eh? What's it gotta do wif you if I do?'

'Oh, exactly,' Martina said, spotting another flaw and taking advantage to it. She let a wily smile creep onto her face, 'it 'asn't!'

'No- you're twisting me words!'

'So,' Martina said, raising her voice an octave to sound falsely sweet, 'there's no point in us payin' fer it, if it 'as nothin' ter do with us. Thanks for comin'.' She waved the woman away with a hand gesture.

'Yer wot?'

The smile faded from Martina's face. 'Let me spell it out for you. Get out.'

With a few nasty words and rather rude hand gestures, the woman did so, Martina called out next again and sat back in her chair, savouring yet another miniature victory. There was something strange going on here, though. She thought back to the way she'd dealt with the woman. She'd given her the brush-off, as always, she'd been sarcastic, as always, but something in her tone, in the way she'd said thanks for coming was slightly different- slightly cheeky, almost. She didn't say things like that. She didn't talk like that. She was usually much more austere with her punishing parting remarks. The only person she knew who talked that way to people was…no, it couldn't be. He was rubbing off on her.

Oh, no. Don't say I'm turnin' into Joey Boswell.

Joey glanced at his watch, then up at Adrian's closed door, then at his watch again. Maybe his brother hadn't been making it up when he said he'd met someone. Maybe he actually had.

That would be just his luck- everyone had plans, and the one member of his family who was available to go and do the town with him turned out to have plans too. That just left him to go off on his own- but if he went out into the town square by himself, that would leave him to think about Martina, to keep envisioning her there…

He forcibly turned his mind to other matters. Oswald's arrival had been arranged- he'd probably be here by now. Joey was glad the two of them had worked this out beforehand- poor little Aveline had seemed so dejected when she came to his room to chat on the first day. I always thought this was a place to walk hand in hand with someone you love, she'd said, her big eyes filling with tears for a brief moment. She would be arriving at the Spanish steps right about now- and he would be there to greet her. There would be excited greetings and kisses, and Aveline would have gotten her wish. The thought made Joey smile.

If only I could get my wish so easily. The problem with being the eldest of the Boswell siblings- as well as being the secretive one- was that there wasn't anyone to plan things like that for him. There wasn't anyone to see that he was pining for something and work to cheer him up or give him a nice surprise. He'd accepted by now that Martina wasn't likely to jump out at him from behind a statue. Well, as much as you could accept something wasn't going to happen when you still held a tiny, unquenchable hope that it would. Maybe if she was secretly planning to… there he went again. He was supposed to not be thinking about it. This holiday was supposed to be a time to get rid of all his love-related stresses and wistful yearnings.

Joey glanced around and realised that not only had he been thinking about the things he'd vowed not to, he had been pacing too, and had absently wandered halfway down the hall. He turned abruptly, and collided with one of the chambermaids. There was a shriek and a clatter, and suddenly there was spaghetti everywhere, splattering all over his shoes, sitting in great, ugly clumps on the floor.

Joey apologised profusely, bending down to help the poor girl scrape as much as possible off the floor and replace it, and the now broken plates it had come on, on her tray. The result was a horrible mess, but, as Joey said with a winning smile, that was just about as good as it was going to get. With a nod, he was about to turn away, but a slender hand landed on his shoulder.

'Jou very pretty English boy,' the maid said huskily.

He smiled again, much less confidently this time, and tried to make his excuses, mumbling something about having places to be. The maid, however, had no intention of letting him slip away so easily.

She gave him a dreamy, seductive look reaching up a hand to touch his head. 'Blond-a hair, very nice…'

Joey shuffled backwards until he was pressed against the wall, wincing. Go away, go away go away goawaygoaway…

The woman stalked closer, running her nails down the side of his face. 'Would jou like… a liason…?'

Her whole predatory manner frightened Joey, and more than ever he wished Martina was here. She would know exactly how to get rid of this woman- he could picture her being possessive and frightening this scary Mediterranean Lilo Lill off. He shrank even further back against the wall, and opened his mouth to speak, but only a squeak escaped.

'Why you not…meet me here…'

'Er, I am sorry, sweetheart, but I'm spoken for…'

She either didn't hear or didn't listen. 'I go now…you wait, a-then,' she'd somehow managed to get one of her hands inside his jacket- he hadn't even noticed that, and it was inching toward the hem of his t-shirt with the intention of pulling it up. Joey took hold of her hand to stop her, and she misinterpreted the action and gave him a smouldering look. 'We see what happens, no?'

'Well,' Joey gave a nervous laugh, 'why not, eh?' It was the only thing he could think of. He didn't like to be a liar or a coward, but he was beginning to think the only way out of this horrifying situation was to play along and get her out the way, then leg it like he'd never legged it before.

'So is good?'

'Is good,' repeated Joey with another giddy laugh.

'I go, put this tray back…'

'Yes, you go,' said Joey, becoming a bit too cheery at this part of the 'plan'. He gave a little wave.

'And you wait.'

'I wait. Gotcha.'

She oozed around the corner very slowly, and as soon as the last corner of her tray had disappeared from view, Joey's brain kicked into action. Go. Run. Flee.

His legs had turned to a wobbly mass, though, not unlike the spaghetti he had just helped clear up. The whole ordeal had left him stunned and a little on the terrified side.

C'mon, move… He shook one, then the other, and then bolted the other way down the passage as fast as he could.

It was only when he had decided he was far enough away to be in any danger that he sat down to think. Joey's heart was still pounding. That was a close one. Too close. And it could have been prevented, had Martina been here, or if he'd been able to stop thinking about her for five minutes he wouldn't have been mindlessly ambling along, and he wouldn't have knocked over that bloody maid's tray in the first place.

Oh, that was it. He couldn't take this any longer. He was going to phone Martina up right now, and he was going to tell her he loved her or die trying. It was probably the worst idea in the history of romance to make a declaration of love over the telephone, and from a different country, but right about now Joey was willing to do anything. He wasn't going to have any peace of mind until he did, until he'd gotten it off his chest- and the sooner the better.

He picked his way back down to the lobby, making sure to avoid anyone in a frilly uniform, and even as he marched to the phone and picked it up determinedly, his mind was beginning to fill with doubts and worries. What if she didn't love him back? What if she ended this, because he took it more seriously than she did? Oh, just get on with it, son. If you keep thinkin' about possible problems, you'll never get anywhere.

Joey asked the operator for the code to England, dialled and waited.

He could hear the ringing that indicated he'd gotten through to the other end, and, although the familiar sound was pleasing to Joey's ears, each ring, he had to realise, was costing him at least a quid. The things he did for love.

'Hello, extension 647?' Martina answered in a brusque, businesslike tone that made Joey's heart start showing off its acrobatic skills. He'd only been away about a day and a half, and already he'd forgotten just how good her voice sounded. For a moment he was tempted just to launch into a spiel about how much he was missing her and how wonderful it was just to hear her speak, but that, he reasoned, would not be keeping with the proper Joey Boswell spirit of things.

So instead he adopted an arrogant tone of voice and said, rather cheekily, 'I am enquiring about the postage of giros to other countries, my dear, and I was wondering just how long it takes for mail to reach…'

'You're not fooling anyone, Joey.'

He stopped abruptly. 'You mean you knew it was me?'

'It doesn't take much guesswork. How much is this phone call costing- or do I dare ask?'

'It wouldn't be in your best interests, sweetheart. Are you missing me?'

'No.' He could almost see the smirk attached to that tone of voice.

Joey pretended to have been stung by her reply. 'Well I miss you.'

'It hasn't been two days!'

'What does that matter? Without you 'ere, Angel, it may as well've been months.'

'You're flattering me again, Joey,' Martina said, a note of warning creeping into her voice, and Joey could picture her there, right beside him. He felt another twinge of longing, and he wished once again that she'd agreed to go with him, that somehow he could have found a way to bring her here, that she could be here now, soaking in the sights with him. He opened his mouth to speak again, but was beaten to it.

'So,' Martina sighed, 'is yer Grandad enjoying his last holiday…until the next one?'

He ignored the jibe. 'Think so, sweetheart. We-ell, he's a little sentimental- you know, he had a great love affair in this hotel. You never know…might run in the fam-i-ly,' he teased.

'You think about it and there won't be much chance of you ever yielding any future generations to test out that theory.'

Joey laughed down the line, pleased with this response. 'Why, you wouldn't be jealous, would you, my angel?'

'Just making sure you behave yourself, Mister Boswell.'

'You know what might help? If you saw your way to coming up here…you could keep your eye on me!' He knew it was a pretty pathetic attempt to coax her, but still, the more he persisted, perhaps the more likely it was she would cave. After all, it often worked in the DHSS, when she was resisting giving him a form for some new fancy assistance scheme he wasn't entitled to.

'For the last time, Joey, I am not skiving off work, sacrificing a week's pay and risking losin' me job just to run off to Italy with you and spend the entire time hiding from your family!'

'But wouldn't it be worth it?'

Martina made a tut-tut-tut-tut-tut noise and Joey laughed again.

'You sure I can't convince you, sweetheart?'

'You're only there for three more days- I'm sure you'll survive. And in the meantime, the city remains temporarily divested of every single living Boswell- and my job is about a hundred times easier. That's enough of an 'oliday fer me.'

'I'll just have to pine away for you….'

'Your sob-stories won't work on me- they don't work in the Social Security, and they are especially not going to work while you're living it up in some Mediterranean 'otel!'

Joey found himself wishing there was some way of squinting into the earpiece and seeing her. All her words, he knew, were linked with different facial expressions- he'd unconsciously categorised them all, and he had almost a sixth sense that told him which one would appear with which sorts of words. And he wanted to see the furrow of her brow, the curl of her lip, the roll of her eyes. He was only here for a week, and he was supposed to be enjoying himself, but he found it just wasn't the same without her beside him. He was already suffering withdrawal symptoms.

'Go on,' Martina was saying. 'Go back and make the most of your luxury.'

'All right, sweetheart, I will,' he said, smirking, and then the mischievous grin dissolved from his face, he swallowed nervously and came out with it. 'I love you.'

There was a silence on the other end, and Joey wondered just what she was thinking. This was one time he couldn't predict her expression. Was she surprised, horrified, even? Was she still even there? He could hear her breathing, or was that just interference on the line?

The pause went on for a bit longer. And then she spoke.

'Now you tell me?'

'I…' Joey knew it had been stupid to spring something like that on her over the phone, and he fumbled around with his brain, trying to think of a way to explain himself. Before he could utter one more syllable, though, she spoke again.

'I love you too.'

Joey felt such an overwhelming rush of relief and happiness he had to lean against the reception desk, letting out a rush of breath he didn't know he'd inhaled.

'Sweetheart!' he began jubilantly.

'Go on, luv,' Martina repeated. 'I do have a job to do, you know.'

Joey nodded, even though he knew she wouldn't see it. Fair enough, although now he'd admitted he was in love with her he longed to discuss it with her, shower her with sentiment and gestures of affection. Still, she was right. And he'd have plenty of time to mull this over when he got back- when they could talk face to face.

'Yeah- better let you get on with it. I'll ring you later, okay?'

'At least think of your family's hotel bill!'

'Ah, we'll club together,' Joey said, putting special emphasis on the phrase just to annoy her. 'We'll manage.'

'I'm going to hang up now, Joey.'

And she did. Joey stood there for a moment, still holding the now empty receiver to his ear, which one corner of his grin was nearly reaching. She loves me.

She loves me.

'Eh, scusi,' he was snapped out of his thoughts by the clerk behind the reception desk, tentatively tapping him on the shoulder and holding out his hand. 'Is a long time you have been on that phone, are you be finishing soon?'

'Oh,' Joey said hurriedly, snapping out of his daydream-like state and slamming the receiver down. 'Mi dispiace.' He flashed a winning smile and sauntered out of the lobby, leaving the man to stare after him.

Well, he hadn't planned things to work out this way, but then again, he hadn't planned to fall in love with Martina. A few months ago, he'd still wistfully imagined a future with Roxy- he never could have dreamed up all this. But then things never worked out the way you imagined they would, did they?

And he didn't mind that.

No, he didn't mind that at all.

Chapter Text

'Nothing's the same as it used to be.'

Joey, perched on the end of Grandad's bed, nodded solemnly. The old man had hit the nail right on the head. Everything was always changing. If his future self had told him he'd ever be telling the DHSS lady he loved her from a phone in Italy, he probably would have thought he was having a very strange dream and ignored himself. Although that, he thought, couldn't be considered a change for the worse- far, far from it, in fact. Grandad's world was getting worse though, shrinking, and he was losing everything he loved. Joey couldn't blame him for lamenting the loss of Edie Mathieson's room- it would be a terrible thing to love someone and then lose not only them but the memories of them too.

'Way of the world, Grandad,' he said quietly. 'Way of the world. But listen, son, you can't just sit in here broodin'!'

'I don't see why not,' said Grandad stubbornly, folding his arms. Joey and Adrian had been trying for ten minutes to convince him to come out with them after the artist's date hadn't turned up and he'd met up with Joey looking rather dejected. They would merely have gone off together, but for some reason they had gone back past Grandad's room and heard him whimpering about roses and store cupboards.

'Well, there are so many things to do!' Joey coaxed. 'So many things to see! Places to go…'

'I've done all them things. I've been all them places. And anyway,' he sighed, 'me legs won't behave!'

Joey and Adrian looked at each other.

'No! I want to go that way! That way!'

'We went that way, Grandad, remember? It was a dead end!'

'I don't want you to push me anymore! I want Adrian to do it!'

There was a loud groan as Adrian slumped forward to take the handlebars of Grandad's wheelchair. 'I've pushed him four times! I'm exhausted! My legs are 'angin' by a thread! 'Angin' by a thread!'

Grandad hadn't immediately taken to the idea of going around Rome in a wheelchair- in fact, he'd had plenty to say about what a pillock it'd make him look and how it was humiliating to have everyone know his legs were knackered. Once he'd realised, however, that it meant he'd have both Adrian and Joey at his beck and call, and got a free, effortless tour of the city, he'd soon warmed to the notion.

Adrian had been extra grumbly, no doubt a result of being led on and then abandoned by a leggy, Italian temptress. He alternated between shoving Grandad along the road with some degree of malice when it was his turn and wandering behind Joey when it wasn't, staring at the sky and ad-libbing a new poem about abandonment, which started with the words oh cruel love, you leave me… and never seemed to get further than that.

Joey couldn't be bothered by either of them right now, though. He quite happily took his aged grandfather through the maze of streets, put his hand in his pocket every time the old man decided it'd been five minutes since his last cup of tea and wanted another one, and tried to get his companions interested in the beauty of the city. Every monument looked amazing to him, a hundred times bigger, smoother, brighter, more expertly carved. The fountains they passed were indescribable, with the water leaping over the edges in silvery arcs, and all his senses heightened…Joey kicked himself and swore under his breath. He was going soppy. No, worse than that. He was going poetic. Maybe all the artistic inspiration in the air had seen that the poet (stroke artist) in the family was depressed, and had mistakenly gone into him instead.

He stopped thinking about the scenery and tried to focus on walking and making sure Grandad was heading in the right direction.

'Where to now, son?' he leaned over the wheelchair, grinning. 'We can go and look at-'

'I don't want to look at things! I want a coffee!'

'Another one?' Adrian threw his hands up, giving Joey a can-you-believe-this look. 'We've bought you several hundred already!'

'I bought you several hundred,' Joey amended cheerily, taking over the chair once again and setting off with a bouncy stride. 'On we go, then!'

Adrian fell into step with them, hands in his pocket, still muttering about his cruel love. 'What are you so happy about?'

'Oh, just soakin' in the holiday atmosphere, Adrian.'

'But you're…you're humming!'

Joey was taken aback. 'Was I?'

'Yeah, you were humming…Love is a Many-Splendoured Thing, I think…'

Joey swallowed. 'Was I?' He didn't even know half the tune to that song…

'If I didn't know better…' Adrian began, but then fell silent.

'Go on, son,' Joey said. 'If you didn't know better…' This'd be good. Adrian couldn't possibly understand why he was so happy.

'If I didn't know better, I'd say you were in love. Only you can't be, because, well- you're Joey.'

'Because I'm Joey?'

'Because you're too wise, after all that Roxy business- you wouldn't go through all that again.' He looked at Joey with some sort of quiet admiration the eldest Boswell felt he might not entirely deserve. 'You've learned from your painful experiences. You've been bitten by love once, and you're twice shy.' Adrian paused. 'Hold on, I've got to write that down.'

He fumbled around in his pockets and pulled out a notepad and a pen. Joey stared at him in disbelief, though he couldn't make up his mind which part of what Adrian had said and done was the most unbelievable- that he had come to all these strange conclusions about Joey or that he had now decided to write a poem based on that.

'Er, I think, son, you might have the wrong end of the…'

'Unlike me, of course,' Adrian continued. 'Six terrifying months with Carmen, being used for all her, um…' he fiddled with his cravat, 'pleasures.'

Joey snickered.

'And after I took your advice and left her, I thought I'd wait for the right one, make sure I never fell prey to someone like that again. Never again, I thought, would I be tricked by a woman again. And then the instant we go abroad the same thing 'appens.'

'Oh,' said Joey. So this hadn't been about why he was so happy. It was just an excuse for Adrian to vent his own depressed feelings to someone. Not that he had any problem with that. He liked listening to his siblings, being their counsellor when needed. But right now he was so happy, and his brother was so miserable, and he didn't want to dampen his own mood.

Maybe he should tell Adrian. He could trust Adrian- he wasn't the sort of person who'd go blabbing or passing judgement. He had tact, and to some degree, style. A man after Joey's own heart.

'Adrian,' he began, 'if I let you in on somethin'…'

'Perhaps I should devote my whole life to art. Forget about women and focus on the finer things- language and beauty…'

Joey groaned, but too quietly for his brother to hear. He was never going to get round to talking about himself.

'Oi! Are you going to get me this coffee or not?!'

Or perhaps, Joey amended, neither of them were going to finish talking about themselves. He turned Grandad's wheelchair in a 360 and headed in the direction of the nearest café.

Martina was happy. No, she was more than happy. She was elated. Elated with a little hint of annoyance thrown in.

Tell me down the phone, why don't you. From Rome, no less. It was hardly the romantic declaration she'd been expecting. Just a casual addition to a goodbye. Somehow that made her a little disappointed. Joey was always one for great, grand gestures attached to long, lyrical speeches. She was rather embarrassed to admit she'd been expecting, no, anticipating, no, fantasising about various different romantic scenes during which he would shower her with affections.

Perhaps he'd spoiled her. In every other relationship she'd been in, well, in all the ones that counted, if there were I love you- s exchanged, they were always casual, and if not on the phone, just casually thrown over-the-shoulder when they parted. She'd always been happy enough with that. She had just, much to her own horror, become so accustomed to Joey Boswell's way of doing things that she'd forgotten how normal people behaved.

And so when Joey had behaved like a normal person, it had come as a total shock.

Then again, all those other times had been the shallow, superficial sort of love- the sort where you told yourself you were in love because you thought you should be. This was far more serious. Martina was quite certain this time that it really was love- much as she hated to admit it. It didn't exactly do wonders for your reputation to admit you were in love with someone who you pretended to yourself you hated for so long.

And for something so serious and confusing as this, she'd never considered Joey would act so ordinary when telling her something so important.

Still, ordinary, over the phone or not, Joey had told her he loved her. And that was enough to smile about. That, and the prospect of him saying it again and again when he came back home.

So right now she was slouching over her desk, chin resting on her hand, staring through the ceiling and daydreaming about Joey and love and Rome and kisses that tasted of wine.

'What are you so happy about?'

The voice of her colleague cut into her stream of consciousness, effectively ruining her daydream.

'We're not open yet,' Martina said, picking what was, in her opinion, a fairly reasonable excuse, 'I'm just makin' the most of the few remainin' moments before we take down the 'closed' signs and my life plunges back into its usual misery.'

'Now that's more like you,' said the lady behind the neighbouring counter, adjusting her spectacles and gathering together a stack of forms. 'What were you simpering about anyway?'

Simpering? Martina didn't simper. The smile was effectively wiped from her face as she pursed her lips, then unpursed them when she remembered that this woman was on her side, and it wouldn't be in her best interests to be starting any arguments with her.

'Huh,' said her colleague in a strange, snorty-laugh sort of way. 'Thinkin' up ways to get revenge on clients, were you?'

'Mm, something like that.' It brought a different sort of smirk to her face to hear how everyone thought of her. Even among the other DHSS ladies she had the edge, she had the reputation as the most stringent, the most no-nonsense, the most determined to see through the clients' ruses.

'Joey Boswell, no doubt.'

She froze. 'What about him?'

Her colleague gave her a strange look. 'I was just saying, I should imagine you were thinking up ways to get revenge on Joey Boswell…' she trailed off, realising Martina wasn't reacting to the comment the way she should have. 'It was a joke.'

'Yeah, I know,' Martina said, forcing out a laugh.

'Are you all right?'

'Oh, fine,' she murmured. 'Just didn't get much sleep last night.'

The other DHSS lady seemed to consider tiredness an acceptable excuse for gazing off into space, and went back to her own work, leaving her to get on with it. Martina sighed with relief. If the others in her office came to learn of her outside-of-work antics with Joey, bang went her reputation. They'd never believe again that she was all serious and no-nonsense. At least her excuse was true- she hadn't gotten much sleep last night. She'd been tossing and turning, alternating between excitement at Joey's telling her he loved her, annoyance at the manner in which he'd broken the news, and a sort of nervous anticipation of what happened now. Was everything going to change? Would Joey change, now he was secure in the fact that she loved him? How serious would they get?

She'd found, though, she wasn't as afraid of being serious as she had been before. In fact, she was beginning to warm to the idea. Rather a lot, if truth be told. She was beginning to picture what might happen if they decided to…no, no, all this fantasising and daydreaming couldn't be good for her. She could get away with seeming out of it once, but if she kept on like this she'd soon stop being the serious, cross one and start being known as the dreamy one. And that was not at all something she desired.

Martina snatched up a stack of fresh forms and started organising them, very firmly applying her mind to the task of getting things ready for the day ahead. She'd put thoughts of Joey out of her head for now, and get on with her work. It was heading towards nine o'clock. They'd all be here in a moment, pouring through the doors, grumbling about their pathetic existences and putting her down, blaming her for all their misery.

She'd better get on with it. She took down the 'closed' sign and assumed her frostiest face as she called out for number one to approach the counter.

Joey woke up feeling rather strange. Granted, he was in a bed that, even after a week, still wasn't all that familiar, in a room that wasn't his, and what was more, in a room that was empty of Boswell siblings, but that wasn't the reason. It was their last morning in Rome- by this time tomorrow he'd be back in his old room on Kelsall Street, but the thought of their holiday having suddenly gone so quickly wasn't what was making him feel so unusual either. It was more a premonition, though he didn't know of what.

Everything was going swimmingly, after all. Billy and Julie had been fighting on and off, but last he'd seen them they were both tucked into one single bed, so things couldn't have been as bad between them as they seemed. Aveline was over the moon now Oswald was here; Shifty and Celia had returned from a walk one night hand in hand and with secretive smiles on their faces, and Shifty had later confided to Joey that he'd asked her to marry him. And he himself…well, he was happy for obvious reasons.

Perhaps he was just feeling strange because he'd been up so late last night. He'd sat up for hours on the phone in his room, finding every excuse to ring Martina up, just so he could say 'I love you' before he rang off, until eventually she'd bitten his head off because it was getting very late and she wanted to get to sleep, and threatened to unplug her phone if he kept calling nonstop.

Joey smiled as he pulled his robe on and slipped out of bed. He'd be home soon, and making arrangements for Martina to meet his family, but first, he had a few more hours of holiday, and he was going to go out into the town and enjoy them on his own.

First, a spot of breakfast, and then perhaps he'd borrow the minibus, go a bit further along the outskirts of the city than he'd been going with the rest of the family, have a look at a few things he'd missed, sit somewhere nice and just bask in the sunlight…

Those were his plans, anyway.

As it turned out, they wouldn't come to fruition. As it turned out, he wouldn't get to spend the last morning in Rome enjoying the sights.

Because as it turned out, it wasn't to be their last morning in Rome. And Joey's premonition was not entirely unfounded.

Not an hour after Joey was sliding out of bed, thinking about love and phone calls and how well the whole trip was going, Nellie and Freddie had an argument, during which his mother screamed on about 'le tarto', and then Freddie's heart, which had been fighting for so long, finally succumbed to an attack.

Once again, it had fallen to him to be the family's source of strength, to comfort each and every one of them as they struggled to get through the grief of the situation. Joey held Aveline, comforted Billy, prayed with Nellie, but all the while he felt just as lost, just as emotionally battered inside as any of them. He really needed to be able to let his own feelings out for a while, instead of bottling them up, pretending to be brave so the rest of the family didn't fall to pieces. He needed to talk to someone who saw through his macho façade and would let him be upset.

He sat on the end of his bed- the hotel staff, hearing of their predicament, had kindly and sympathetically let them stay another night to be near their Dad in hospital- and stared at the phone. It was probably the most inconsiderate thing to think of doing, and he didn't know what time it was. Very, very late, he knew that much, and there was a one-hour time difference between England and Italy, though he couldn't remember whether they were behind or ahead. But the phone just kept sitting there, taunting him until he succumbed to the urge to pick up the receiver and start dialling.

It rang about twelve times. Joey bit his lip with each ring.

'Hello?' Martina slurred sleepily into the phone, and Joey suddenly felt guilty for having dragged her out of bed.

'Martina?'

'Joey!' she sounded cross now. 'Look, I appreciate that you want to phone me- but you might be a bit more considerate. It's the middle of the night- and not all of us can just-'

'Sorry, sweetheart,' he said quickly. 'If it's a bad time I'll call later.' He tried to sound pleasant, like he was okay with this, he really did, but it didn't work. The raw pain and need and hurt in his voice was far too obvious, even to himself.

Martina's voice softened. 'Are you all right, love?'

He wanted to answer, but all of a sudden he couldn't find his voice.

'You sound a bit off- Joey, are you all right?' A pause. 'Joey?'

Joey finally located his vocal chords. 'Not really, no.'

'What's happened?'

So he told her, poured out all his fears, told her that his dad had had a heart attack, that everyone was in pieces, that he didn't know what to do- what was he supposed to do?

She listened to everything he said, occasionally uttering a sound or a couple of words of sympathetic disbelief, and as Joey kept speaking, kept opening up to her he found his composure slipping even further away, his voice broke and then he was crying on the phone. Actually crying- something he hadn't done properly for years. He never really could- not when everyone else needed him.

'I'm so sorry,' Joey said at length, after his vent had left him out of breath, 'I shouldn't be troublin' you with all this- I just didn't know what to do.' About the eighteenth time he'd said that, but it was unutterably true. Never had self-assured Joey Boswell felt so…unsure. And it was a terrible feeling. He didn't even have a vestige of how to cope, not at all, and when he was supposed to be helping the others cope, well, he felt that at some point he was going to break down.

'Don't apologise, love,' and never had Martina sounded so caring. He didn't know if that was just his emotional state- that she could have been shouting her head off at him and he would have been glad to hear her speak at all- but her voice was the most incredibly wonderful sound right now. 'Joey- I don't know what to say, but-but I…' she sighed, and he could envision the way her eyes closed as she did so. It was a very comforting, familiar image. 'I just…I'm here, you know. I don't know it if helps, but…'

'Really, sweetheart,' he said, 'it helps.' And it did. She hadn't really offered any sort of advice, but he hadn't wanted any- he'd just wanted to talk to her. Just wanted to hear her, and know she was there. 'Thank you.'

'I love you, you know,' Martina said quietly.

He gave a half-hearted little snicker through his tears. 'Even though I'm so arrogant and a bad lot and I'm always makin' your life in the DHSS a misery?'

'Even after all that.'

'I love you too, sweetheart.' His voice had almost gone down to a whisper. 'So much.'

She stayed on the phone with him for another two hours, offering any words of comfort she could think of, saying nothing when another wave of emotion hit him and he started going on again about the whole terrible tragedy. It was only when a timid knock came at his door and Aveline tiptoed into the room that he ended the call and put the receiver down.

'Was that the hospital, Joey?' his sister whispered.

'No, princess, no, just…anyway,' he segued, 'I thought you were with Oswald!'

Aveline shrugged. 'I was, but…I wanted to come and sit with you for a while, Joey,' she looked up at him with those huge, weepy eyes of hers, 'remember when me Mam and Dad used to fight when we were kids, and you used to gather us round and hold us and let us know it was gonna be okay…'

Joey gave his little sister a sad smile, putting his arms round her. 'Oh, princess…'

'Tell me everythin's gonna be okay, Joey.'

The eldest Boswell opened his mouth, but he just couldn't say it. How could he comfort her with false hopes and promises when he couldn't convince himself of them? He had no idea whether his Dad would be okay- and from the looks of it, he wasn't banking on it being too likely.

'We just have to have faith, Aveline,' he settled for in the end. 'Just keep prayin', keep hopin'.' He cradled her tightly, trying to give her all the strength he had, all the strength Martina had given him. 'That's all any of us can do now.'

Chapter Text

Joey didn't know what he'd been imagining a Roman hospital to look like, but somehow he couldn't wrap his head around the fact that it looked pretty much like the ones back home, but the signs were in Italian. He clicked down the corridor with the rest of his family trailing behind- an even larger group than normal, and quite a spectacle to anyone around. In another situation, a little part of Joey would have enjoyed playing the part of a mafia leader, would have found it fun. Today, though, when his father was in such danger, he couldn't be doing with all that.

Freddie was in the end bed in a long and rather clean room, home to three other patients who all stared with gaping mouths as the entire procession trooped in.

'Er, maybe we shouldn't all crowd 'im like this,' Joey suggested. 'We'll go in one at a time, the rest of us can wait outside.'

'It'll take forever that way!' Billy whined.

'Billy!' Julie snapped.

Joey turned to Nellie. 'Mam?'

His mother was clutching onto a handkerchief and a rosary, and looked up at him with big weepy eyes.

'Per'aps you'd better go talk to him first, okay?'

Nellie nodded, and Joey guided her to the chair beside the bed, shooing the others out with a quick hand gesture.

'We'll be 'ere 'til Christmas at this rate!' came Billy's whingy voice from behind him, followed by a collective grumble as the others all turned their disapproval on the youngest Boswell.

Nellie reached forward and took hold of Freddie's hand.

'Er,' said Joey, feeling this was too private a moment to sit in on, 'I'll, ah, I'll leave you two alone.' And he strode out the room as quickly as he could and went to join the others.

' 'ow long's it been now?'

Eight people groaned in unison.

'Can't you shut him up?' Adrian cried. 'My last few shreds of sanity are 'angin' by a thread!'

'It's about a minute and a half since you last asked!' Jack said.

'Well 'ow long are we s'posed to sit 'ere, anyway?!' Billy looked just about to spring up from his chair like a jack-in-the-box, but Julie had both hands on his arm in a vice-like grip and pulled him back down.

'Billy, you're not making things easy for your family, are you?'

'I CAN'T HELP IT IF-'

'Billy,' Joey said calmly, and his younger brother stopped halfway to his feet. 'Sit down, and keep your voice down. This is a hospital, okay?'

'Or better, still, keep your gob shut completely,' Adrian said, and Jack muttered something which sounded like hear, hear.

'I was in a hospital like this once,' Shifty began.

'Oh, shut up!' shouted everyone in unison, with the exception of Oswald.

'Joey?'

The entire group turned their heads toward the doorway, where Nellie stood, looking miserable and trembly, her lip wobbling. Joey jumped from his seat and immediately enveloped her in his arms.

'Oh, Mam, what 'appened?' Aveline hastened to join him, disentangling her long legs and clacking over on her heels. Nellie looked from one to the other with a sad smile, touching their faces.

'Joey,' she said again, quietly. 'You can go in and see him now.'

Joey kept his hand on her shoulder. 'Mam, do you need…'

'I'm alright, Joey,' she dabbed at her face, 'I just need to sit down for a moment. You go on in.'

The eldest Boswell hesitated, his eyes fixed on his mother's face. She was trying to be brave, the same way they were all trying to be brave, but he didn't know just how long she could stand this. It had hit her terribly hard, and with good reason.

It was only when Adrian came up behind them and replaced Joey's hand with his that he felt he could go into his dad's room. Adrian wouldn't swamp her and plague her with questions like the others were bound to- he'd be a bit more of a comfort to her. He stepped through the doorway slowly, almost dreading what he'd behold.

'We'll be 'ere for years at this rate!' yelled Billy from behind him. Joey shook his head as he continued on his painstaking journey. There was something wrong with that boy.

Joey held his breath as he approached the bed, preparing himself for the worst.

'Hello, son.'

Joey flinched. Freddie was sitting up in bed, his usual winsome grin peeking out from under his walrus moustache. He was pale, his eyes rimmed, more than a little worse
for wear with several bleeping machines on and around him, but Joey had been panicking, envisioning the man lying there close to death.

'Dad! You- I-you…'

'Gave you all a scare, didn't I, son?' his shoulders heaved as he chuckled, and Joey felt an overwhelming relief crash down upon his head.

'Have you got any idea what you've put us through, Dad? You know you've got to be careful with your heart!' Joey wanted to sound angry, to tell him off but he couldn't be, not when he was so relieved.

Freddie shrugged lopsidedly. 'You try stoppin' your ticker from leapin' about when your wife starts shoutin' about tarts and throwin' bread…' he seemed to think the whole thing was a bit of a joke, and Joey wished he wouldn't.

Oh, Mam, he thought sorrowfully. Did you have to?

'What's gonna happen now?' he asked. 'Have the doctors said anythin'?'

'A whole mess I didn't understand- well, most of them don't speak English, do they?'

'Dad-'

'Oh, it's all right, you know, son. There's talk of transplants, you know.'

Joey thought back to Nellie's words- that Freddie would be off raping and pillaging if he got a new heart. They'd probably never hear the end of Lilo Lil if that happened- Nellie would be constantly having her heart broken (not to mention her voicebox from all the screeching that would be undoubtedly involved.) But what would she rather- he thought- an energetic and wayward Freddie or a dead one?

'You're deep in thought there, son.'

Joey wasn't quite sure how to respond, so he didn't.

'It's all gonna be fine, stop worrying! You are gettin' to be like yer Mam, aren't you?'

'She does care, Dad.'

He smiled. 'Yeah. I know. Her caring drives her, you know. If something happens to any of her brood she's straight on the warpath- a vicious mother hen with lacy knickers on.'

This was supposed to be funny as well; Joey could tell by the way his father was trying to keep in a snigger, but the metaphor didn't quite work somehow, and his mother's concern for her family didn't seem right to be made fun of. Joey might not wear lace knickers, but he'd inherited that driving care, and to him it was no laughing matter. He tried remonstrating his father, but Freddie seemed to have no interest in taking anything seriously for the moment, and Joey wondered if this was his way of coping, of suppressing his fears. It must have been a terrible scare for him- Joey didn't know all that much about heart attacks, though he'd tried to get through a horribly confusing medical book after he first found out about his Dad's condition- but he did know that there would have been pain, and there would have been some panic.

Joey's own heart was still going a bit too fast to be comfortable, everything still too much to take in. He had more of a reassurance things would be all right now, but there were still risks lying ahead that he couldn't put out of his mind.

'So,' Freddie said, a familiar twinkle coming to his eye. 'How's that girlfriend of yours? Marlina, wasn't it?'

'Martina,' Joey corrected. 'She's fine.' He didn't really want to talk about this now, not after what had happened, but his father was clearly in need of a diversion, something to talk about to cheer him up and take his mind off things, so he'd have to oblige him a little.

'You know, I'm surprised you didn't bring her- still all about the secret liasons, are you?'

'Oh, I fully intend to tell everyone,' Joey said, squaring his shoulders, 'I'm just sort of leadin' up to it.'

'Leadin' up to it, eh?'

'Well, she's met you- that's a start…' they both snickered half-heartedly.

'And the others are soon to follow, eh?' Freddie had that look on his face which always meant he somehow seemed to know exactly what Joey was thinking.

The eldest Boswell looked down at his shoes to hide a smirk he couldn't contain.

Freddie scrutinised him some more. 'You told her you loved her, didn't you?'

'How do you know these th-'

'I know you, son. I may have wandered from the fold a few times, but I've still been around since you were a lit'le lad, and I know when different looks come over you…'

Joey looked past his shoes at the floor now. 'Dad, I just don't, I mean…it's great, and she's great, and I'm happy, well, I was- but how can I think o' things like that when you're…' he wasn't particularly eloquent at the moment. Martina would probably barely recognise him if she heard him now. He couldn't even think of a suitable way to finish the sentence.

Both of them were silent for a while. Joey racked his brains for something appropriate to say.

'Dad,' he began, meaning to put together some sort of speech about the fact that when Martina met the family he wanted Freddie there too, and therefore instruct him to get better in a covert, roundabout sort of way. But instead, he came out with 'you have to pull through.'

He couldn't even lend the right tone to the sentence to give it the impact he wanted. He was aiming for strong and firm, sort of willing him to be all right because he said so, but his voice shook.

Freddie's face became serious for the first time since Joey had walked through the door. 'I will, son. I will. They're good people, these Italians- and not bad to look at, either,' he added as a nurse with a curvy figure clicked past.

Mam is right about 'im bein' on the rampage, Joey thought wryly. He was tempted to mention this to his Dad in the hope of cheering him a bit more, but just at that moment there was a shout of we'll be here 'til the year 2000 at this rate! and then Billy and Adrian appeared together, arguing and twittering away, and that was the end of their one-on-one talk.

The DHSS was very quiet, and Martina had gotten more work done in these past two weeks than she had managed to do all year. She'd finally made a dent in the mound of paperwork that had been slowly accumulating over the past few months, and had, for the most part, nice, agreeable clients. Well, agreeable in the sense that, although they grumbled and told stupid lies about washing lines, they didn't pester for more than a few minutes before giving up.

She'd gotten home before six every night and even forced herself to do a bit of tidying and a few jobs that desperately needed doing.

It had been a very productive time for her.

And she had hated it.

What had she become, she asked herself. A year ago- maybe even six months ago- she would probably have been celebrating being in a situation like this. She would have loved to have a Boswell-free week, and for that to turn into a Boswell-free fortnight, for whatever reason, would have been a godsend. She certainly would not have been openly missing them.

And to find herself concerned for the welfare of the Boswell family- that was just unthinkable. To actually lose sleep over their medical problems-if her past self had seen her now she would have thought she was mad.

But then again a year ago she hadn't been in love with Joey. A year ago she hadn't cared what he thought or what went on in his life, or at least she'd pretended not to, anyway. Now the thought of him in any sort of pain, whether physical or emotional, terrified her, and so she tried to do everything she could to comfort him.

She didn't know how to reach him in Italy, but she made sure she was always close to a phone. Joey rang every night, keeping her posted with news of how his father was doing, how everyone was taking it, what tests were being done and so on. This was a far more serious Joey than the one who had rung up on his first night away. Gone were all the little taunts and teases- Joey now talked about cardiac arrests and transplants and immunosuppressants and used all sorts of medical terms Martina had never heard of before. He interspersed all this with the occasional weak joke about claiming for all this when he got back, but she could tell from his voice that his heart wasn't in it, and when he attempted one she felt it was better to simply pretend he hadn't.

The night of his father's operation had been the worst. Joey had babbled on nervously for about three hours, none of what he said making sense, starting a sentence and then launching into another one without finishing the first. Martina hadn't had the first idea what she could say that would console him, but Joey didn't seem to need to hear anything, other than confirmation that she was still on the other end of the line. So she sat there each night, the late hours of the night ticking away and dragging with them precious moments of sleep, listening while Joey talked on and on and on and backchannelling with a few mmhmm-s and yeah-s and oh-s to reassure him.

Freddie did seem to be improving, though. Every day Joey cried a little less and laughed just a little more, and as each day after the operation passed, he became more optimistic that all this would be over and they could get on with their normal lives.

It had been about seventeen days now, and Joey was almost fully back to his old self.

'Mam's still concerned,' he was saying, 'but then again, I think that's more to do with the fact that Dad's gonna be a lot more active when he gets out of hospital…'

'And goin' after anythin' in a skirt, yeah, I think you said.' She'd heard this three times already, and Joey was in a good enough mood tonight to start sneaking the jibes back into their conversation. 'Haven't been followin' in 'is footsteps, 'ave you?'

'Why, angel,' the old, familiar Joey-voice was coming back, and oh, how she'd missed it, 'don't you trust me to behave meself?'

'And why, Mister Boswell, would I trust you to do anythin'?'

He laughed, a proper laugh, and it was the most wonderful sound in the world.

'If I find out you've 'ad any assignations with beautiful Italian temptresses, I'll-'

'You wouldn't be jealous, would you, sweetheart?'

'Oh, so you admit, there's someone to be jealous of?'

'No, no, of course not!' She'd made him panic. Fifteen-love. She smiled to herself.

'But…' the mischievous edge was coming back into Joey's voice, and she prepared herself for the next round, 'I've never seen you act clingy before. Missin' me charm that much, are you?'

Martina pursed her lips. 'I am not being clingy!'

'Oh, yes you are. You're pining away down there, miserable and lonely in my absence…'

'You love ter think the world revolves around you, don't yer?'

'Getting very possessive of me…'

'Joey, if you were here in person and not in Rome, you'd be gettin' a smack.'

'Well, sweetheart, just on that note, we've booked a return flight.'

Martina nearly dropped the receiver. 'You 'ave?'

'The nineteenth. I'll be back then, and you can cling to me all you like!'

The DHSS lady ignored the clingy comment and focused on the date. 'Will yer dad be able to fly by then?'

'The doctors seem to think so, sunshine. It's only supposed to take a week or two after the procedure before they can let 'im out the hospital, and he's been in there for…' there was a pause and she envisioned him counting on his fingers and then giving up, 'a while. We can keep gettin' checkups at home- of course that wonderful place you work for can supply us with compensation for all this medical treatment…'

'Mmhmm.'

'Martina, aren't you supposed to tell me off?'

'What for?'

'For the enormous claim I just threatened to put in.'

'I don't tell you off when you claim for necessaries- only when you're claimin' for luxuries.'

'Oh, well in that case I'll throw a few new leather jackets into the bargain.'

'Are you tryin' to say that you like it when you make me angry?'

'Well, you know, there is something about the way your eyes flash when you're cross that is most endearing…'

'Joey,' Martina said with a snort, 'you can't see me eyes flash over the phone.'

'Ah,' said Joey, 'but I am envisioning them, angel.'

She tutted.

'And I won't need to for much longer, will I? In a few days I can see them flash again, and all me passions will be inflamed…'

'Well, you've cheered up, haven't you?'

'The thought of your lovely face saw me through this tragedy, and seein' it again in a few days has brought me new unbounded joy…'

Martina hung up on his soliloquy, smiling to herself.

Looked like normal Joey was back.

Joey absently tossed his jackets into his case, glancing around at the hotel room that had been his home for rather longer than he'd planned. He had had to tip the staff handsomely for the family to keep their rooms, which had been booked out to other customers, and the bill now they were finally leaving was going to be enormous.

He'd never really gotten his peaceful moment alone in Rome. The first few days after Freddie's attack none of them had felt like doing anything. They'd sat around either in the hospital corridor, taking turns to visit him, or in the hotel lobby, taking turns to start conversations nobody could be bothered finishing. As the days wore on, and Freddie recovered from his operation, they started making a few half-hearted trips out to see the sights, splitting off into groups and ambling around monuments, not really taking them in. Even Billy and Julie had argued with less vigour- or rather Billy had done less to aggravate her, resulting in less screeching.

Now that Freddie was more or less recovered, and this was their last morning- for real- the family had perked up again. They were all off on one last outing, taking their dad around to soak up the Mediterranean sun, with the exception of Grandad who was sulking because Freddie now had possession of the wheelchair and everyone was ignoring him.

'Oh, I am sorry!'

Joey dropped his newly-packed suitcase on his toe. He turned around to see the blonde maid who'd ambushed him on the first night standing in the doorway, a pile of laundry in her arms.

'Oh, er,' Joey picked up his suitcase, clutching it to him for protection and inching towards the far wall. 'Greetings!'

'Greetings,' repeated the woman. 'What is this word meaning?'

Joey's eyes darted to the door. Maybe he could make a run for it…

'Oh, well, er, don't let me stop you changin' the sheets,' he said, gesturing cheerily at the stack of fresh bedding she carried, 'I'm packed and about ready to be on me way…' she took a step into the room and he used the opportunity, dodging and trying to weave around her and out the door.

A hand on his shirt stopped him.

'Is sad,' said the maid. 'We never get our liason.'

'Well, these things happen,' said Joey, shrugging. 'Somethin' came up- unavoidable. Maybe next year, eh?'

'You come back…'she was fiddling with his top button now, 'next year?'

'Oh, of course!' he cried, knowing full well that as long as he lived he would never stay in this hotel again, 'wouldn't miss that for the world! Now, ah, I really must be going…'

'So soon? Is a long time to wait, afor jou, but I wait,' she touched his face, and Joey managed to suppress the urge to flinch, manoeuvre himself around her and dash down the corridor, his case thumping against his leg.

Martina was determined to exercise some severe self-control, and that meant sitting very calmly in her living room, reading through some paperwork very closely, sipping a cup of tea very slowly and on no account looking up at the door.

Or at the clock.

Half past eight. What time was he supposed to be getting back anyway?

No. Don't look at the clock. Focus. Paperwork. Tea.

The doorbell rang. Martina's papers fell off her lap onto the floor as she leapt to her feet. She forced herself to stay very casual, to pick up each and every one of them and put them back into a nice, neat stack on her coffee table before she walked painfully slowly towards the front door. She slid the deadbolt off at an agonising pace, reminding herself that this would go down well for her icy public image, and no matter how much she loved someone, and they her, she was never, ever, ever going to look too keen.

She opened the door.

'Greetings!'

And there he was, standing in her doorway in a boastful pose, one foot crossed over the other, arms raised in the air, full version of the winning wall-to-wall smile, Joey Boswell in all his arrogant, obnoxious glory.

And oh, how she'd missed him.

Martina folded her arms. 'And what time do you call this?'

'A very long time indeed,' said Joey, closing the gap between them with one step, 'since I did this.'

She'd missed Joey Boswell's kisses too, and he certainly delivered a memorable one to make up for lost time. Her hands found his shoulders and she pulled him closer, inhaling the smell of expensive cologne and leather that shrouded him. She couldn't get enough of him at the moment- it had always been said that absence made the heart grow fonder, and for her it was certainly true.

Joey pulled back, and she hissed in frustration.

'I love you, Martina.' Her heart fluttered. She'd heard it a million times now, down the phone, but in person it was better. A hundred times better.

'I love you,' she repeated, stretching on her toes to kiss him again.

'Wait,' he put out his arms to keep her from doing so, 'I need to say something.'

She sighed, twisting her mouth into a half-scowl, half-smirk. 'Go on then. Keep it brief.' If this was going to be a great, detailed articulation, she was going to stop him.

'Martina, I've been thinkin', and I have realised life is short,' Joey said. He drew a breath, about to launch into the next part of his speech, and Martina seized her chance and covered his mouth with her hand.

'Er- don't you want to come in before you embark on another of these long speeches of yours?' she folded her arms, secretly thinking for the hundredth time of how she'd missed him and his obnoxious ways, 'only if you stay out here you'll have frozen before you finish.'

'But sweetheart, it's summer.'

'Do as I say,' Martina said, grabbing hold of his wrist and yanking him through the doorway. 'If I'm gonna have to listen to a life-changing Boswell speech, I'll need to sit down.'

Chapter Text

It wasn't much of a sunny day, but then again, it never was in Liverpool, and today had been happy enough for Martina to overlook that. She was sitting beside Joey under the shade of the largest tree in the park, leaning against him as they watched the sun slowly move across the sky.

'It's a nice way to spend yer day off,' she murmured contently to no-one in particular.

'You mean, in the arms of the one you love the most, who has taken time out of his schedule to devote an entire day to you?'

'If you 'ad a schedule to take time out of.'

'A fam-i-ly doesn't just run itself, you know.'

'The way you lot carry on in the DHSS, I would have thought you could run the entire country…'

'Someday we will, sweetheart. Someday.' He tightened his arms around her, kissing her temple.

'I've always thought you were plannin' to take over the British throne…'

'And when I do, my queen, I shall shower you with jewels and furs, and you can help me rule- and handle all me finances…'

'You won't 'ave that many finances to handle if you're showerin' me with jewels.' She sat up straighter, twisting round to face him. 'And what would you do with the country if you were in charge of it? Would we all be legally required to drive around in Jags, wear leather and harass civil servants?'

'Oh, you'll have diplomatic immunity, sweetheart, don't fret. You won't have to worry about laws.' Joey kissed her jaw.

'Just about doin' yer finances for you…'

'Well, you are my Money Angel, not forgetting…'

She laughed and settled back against him. They were quiet for a while, watching the odd leaf flutter from the tree above them.

'So tomorrow, then?' Joey asked after a few minutes had passed.

'Not tomorrow.'

'Day after?'

'Not sure about that, Joey.'

'When, then?'

'After you give yer brothers adequate warnin'.'

Joey's speech last night about life being short had been all about bringing her to meet his family- yet again. He'd already been pestering her about it a lot, but now, after his father's disastrous episode, the eldest Boswell felt it was more urgent than ever to have the meeting. He wanted her in his life- in all aspects of his life, he said, and the sooner the better. And, as he reminded her, she'd promised him before he left for Rome that they'd sort it out.

'Me brothers'll learn to love it.'

'Ooh, I hope not.' She smiled maliciously. 'I was lookin' forward to makin' 'em uncomfortable.'

'You're wicked- you know that?'

'This from a man whose entire life is more than a little on the shady side?'

'We match, then!'

She tutted. 'You love bein' clever, don't you?'

'Need I answer that, sunshine? Bein' clever leads me to make splendid decisions, doesn't it? Gettin' involved with you, for one thing.'

'You don't need to keep flatterin' me, Joey. I've already said I'll meet yer family.'

'Ah, but I like flatterin' you, angel. It brings joy to my heart to remind you just how amazingly, stunningly beautiful you are.' He leaned down and kissed her softly on the top of her head. 'And wonderful. And smart…'

'All right, all right,' she held up her hands to wave away all the compliments. 'What else do you want?'

'For you to turn around and let me kiss you properly,' said Joey, and she was more than happy to oblige.

'The streets are quiet, the afternoon sun
Comes streaming over the grey of the…'

'Oh, shut up, will yer!' Jack grumbled, changing gear and stepping so hard on the clutch that his van jerked, and both he and Adrian were jostled in their seats. The two of them had gone on the job, but since Jack's return from America he'd found his brother far less willing to help out in the buying and selling game, and more interested in gazing at the sky and verbally writing poxy poetry as they drove. Granted, Adrian had never been the best of helpers anyway, generally causing him to lose more money than he made, but Jack did miss the old version of his brother- the wimpy one who'd worn brown cords and given him a hand carrying the heavier antiques he collected.

'Well pardon me,' Adrian said, staring out the window, 'for being creative. I only have had my poems published, after all.'

'Yeah, and how much did you make for that? I could get a ton more just from sellin' one wardrobe- or from one day workin' in the delicatessen in America…'

'Well why aren't you still there, then?' Adrian retorted. 'If you were doin' so well?'

Jack scowled, staring out through the windshield at the road ahead. 'I missed all of you,' he said gruffly.

'Oh, Jack.' Adrian touched his arm. 'You pretend to be…callous, and ruthless, and…a bit dim…'

Jack threw him a furious look. 'Dim?!'

'But underneath, you've got a beautiful soul. You're caring, and kind…'

'Not only that,' Jack added, 'me visa ran out.'

Adrian decided to mentally retract the beautiful, caring soul argument. 'So where do you think Joey keeps goin' off to?' he asked, changing the subject.

'What are you goin' on about that for? 'e always disappears, always 'as, and no-one ever asks him about it!'

'But haven't you noticed that he's been gone a lot more, lately? He only has dinner with us on average three times a week, and he gets in at all hours…'

'Sounds normal, except for the dinner bit…'

'He's gettin' more secretive, you know.'

'Good fer 'im. Everyone knows yer business in our 'ouse. He's lucky he's managed to keep it up long as he has.'

'I don't know, there's just something…different. He's acting a bit different…'

'I think the fumes from all those oil paints are messin' with your 'ead.'

'I don't use oil paints, thank you, I sketch.'

Jack groaned. 'Well what do you reckon Joey's up to, then?' he asked, just to get Adrian off the subject of his artistic talents. 'D'you think he's got a girlfriend?'

'Don't be silly, Jack. Joey's too wise for that.'

'Too wise, eh? What about that Roxy?'

'No, I mean too wise to go through all that again. If I know our Joey, he's got some plan to acquire more money and possessions.'

'You sure about that?'

'That's what he usually does.'

'No,' Jack's voice was strangely, smugly cheerful, but Adrian didn't take much notice. 'Are you sure about the girlfriend thing?'

'Of course I'm sure!' Adrian looked mildly horrified that his brother doubted him so. 'Like I said, I know our Joey!'

'Oh, do you? Heh.' Jack made a chortling sound, and Adrian turned to give his brother the brunt of his horrified look.

'What are you snickering about?'

Jack just pointed out the window and went on chuckling. The poet-stroke-artist craned his neck to see what his older brother was so amused about.

And nearly leapt out of his seat in shock, only he was tied down by his seatbelt.

No, no, that couldn't be. That wasn't right.

They were waiting at the traffic lights a few miles from their destination, and at first Adrian couldn't see anything other than a few parked cars and blocks of flats on either side. What were they supposed to be looking at?

It was a few seconds before his eyes alighted on Joey's Jag. Nothing too special, they generally spotted the sleek black car several times a day outside various places, usually places within walking distance of a cash-point machine or the DHSS.

His eyes travelled a few feet further, and then came the shock.

It wasn't just their Joey he saw. It was their Joey with someone else.

With, to be precise, a girl.

Adrian gaped. That couldn't be right- Joey, his Joey, walking arm in arm up the street with a girl in a fawn coat, who, even from this distance looked oddly familiar…

'Could just be a friend,' he said, trying to deny the obvious. No, no, it wasn't obvious. He could have been right. It could just have been a friend- after all, they were just walking and chatting. There was nothing that wasn't perfectly innocent about that.

Oh, wait. No.

The pair of them had stopped outside the front door of one of the apartment buildings, and, much to Adrian's horror, they were now entangled in a passionate clinch. Joey's arms were around the girl's waist, she in turn had her hands in his hair, and they were kissing for a length of time that, in spite of his exploits with Carmen in the past, made Adrian want to blush.

Jack laughed obnoxiously. 'Yeah. A friend.' He turned to his younger brother. 'You're right, son. You do know our Joey.'

'Don't make fun!' Adrian folded his arms indignantly. 'I just…never imagined that Joey was…'

'He's a crafty one, our brother.' Jack was still laughing, clearly mentally congratulating Joey on his conquest. 'Get in there, my son!'

'He can't hear you!'

'Yeah I know…eh? Don't we know that girl?'

'I s'pose it's probably…hang on a minute…' Adrian squinted out the window. He knew he'd recognised the woman from somewhere, but it couldn't be- it just couldn't be… maybe it just looked like her. Same hair, that was all.

The amorous couple broke apart, and the woman started towards the front door. Adrian tried to stay calm as she turned, giving Joey a wave goodbye. He'd been partially anticipating it, but the poet's heart still leapt. It didn't just look like her. It was her.

He turned back to Jack, mortified. 'Oh, if my life wasn't bad enough!'

'One of Carmen's mates, is she?'

'Worse. It's the DHSS lady!'

Jack's smile froze on his face. He pushed Adrian out of the way, leaning as far over as he could to get a better look. 'Naw, you're seein' things, kid…eh! Adrian! It's the DHSS lady!'

Adrian raised his eyes to heaven. 'I told you that! What does our Joey want with her?'

'What do you think he wants from her?' Jack seemed to have gotten over the shock a lot faster than Adrian had, and the minxish smile was back.

'Is that all you can ever think about?'

'You can 'ardly talk, the way you went at it with Carmen! And anyway, I wasn't talkin' about that! I was talkin' about money! Think about where she works!'

Adrian gaped. 'You don't really think our Joey would stoop as low as that?!'

'Like I said, he's crafty, our Joey.'

'Joey wouldn't do that. He may get up to some shady things, but you don't really think using a woman is more of a Shifty thing to do…?'

'Jimmy,' said Jack, and Adrian scowled at the use of his real name. ' 'oo paid for our 'oliday?'

Adrian faltered. 'The…DHSS…'

'There you are, then. Hey up, traffic light's changed.' And with seemingly no concerns about the shocking discovery they had just made, and the conclusion they'd drawn from it, he started his van up again and drove off toward the antique shop.

'This is just what I need,' Adrian told no-one in particular. 'A brother who's taken defrauding the Social Security to a whole new level. My dignity is 'angin' be a thread! 'Angin' by a thread!'

'When do you think we should do it?'

'Do what?'

'Confront our Joey, of course!'

Jack paused, wooden chair hoisted halfway towards the open back of his van. 'What do we have to confront Joey for?'

'Don't you think what he's doin' is wrong?'

'Yeah, well, we all do wrong, don't we? And watch that chair- it cost me forty quid!'

Adrian resentfully adjusted the chair in his arms. 'Don't you care? Aren't you at all bothered that our brother is behaving immorally – using a woman to get extra benefits…'

'It's nothin' to do with us! We didn't pry into your private life with Carmen!'

'Everyone knew about everything that went on with me and Carmen!'

'Yeah, well that's because you moaned on and on about it and never bothered to hide yer bike! And every day you were on the phone to 'er- oh, yes, Carmen, it was wonderful…'

'All right! All right! Point taken!' Adrian would have thrown up his hands, but the chair he was carrying wasn't exactly light. He resolved to drop the subject and get on with what he'd come here to do. Right. No more talking about the Joey issue.

They climbed back in the front of the van.

'But doesn't it worry you at all?'

'Adrian, I don't care! Good luck to 'im, I say.'

'You're not in the least bit concerned that our brother, our mentor, the man who's supposedly in charge of our household- who takes responsibility for us and earns most of our money…'

'We all earn money!'

'And most of what's in the family pot comes from Joey! And it seems to be comin' in now because he's taking advantage of the DHSS lady! We are living in luxury and getting expensive holidays because of Joey's wrongdoing! What do you think about that?'

'About us living in luxury? It's great! Now shut yer gob.'

'Jack!'

'Oh, all right, all right!' Jack thumped his hands down on the steering wheel. 'We'll talk to him tomorrer- happy?'

'Chance'd be a fine thing. My happiness is 'angin'-'

'Don't start all that again!' Jack slammed his foot on the clutch and the van jerked again.

'Billy! Joey! This café is going to close at nine o'clock, customers or not!' Nellie shouted up the stairs. None of her sons had been early to rise this morning. Only Jack and Adrian had managed to lumber down the stairs, and half an hour later than usual- and that was only because Adrian had some very strange things on his mind, and he was forcing Jack to think about them too.

Adrian hadn't managed to corner Joey after his discovery, but he was going to do it sometime today, make no mistake about it. He just couldn't believe what he'd seen. Just couldn't believe it. His eyes must have been lying- there was just no way he could have actually, really, properly seen Joey, his Joey, his older brother, snogging with the DHSS lady. That was just not right. Talking with her, laughing with her, walking with her - all of those were bad enough, hard enough to understand- seeing them kiss…that was just too much.

He was going to have to find out what this was about. He wasn't one for being nosey- never had been, but this was just…strange. Adrian needed to find out what his Joey was up to- it would be just like his older brother to be staging some sort of complicated scheme to get money. But getting involved with a DHSS dragon just to snag another paycheck seemed a bit low, even for him.

He toyed with his cereal, squashing it with his spoon rather than eating it, and making exaggerated eye-rolls across the table at Jack, who was shovelling spoonfuls of frosted flakes into his mouth like an excavator on fast-forward. He couldn't believe that man. Who could think of eating at a time like this?

'Ah! Greetings!' Adrian froze in his chair as Joey pranced downstairs in his robe, humming as he helped himself to the toast on the table.

'What's the matter with you, son? You look like you've seen a ghost!' he shrugged, managing to keep his gob in a smile shape even when he was putting toast in it.

'Oh-er-nothin',' Adrian lied hastily, returning to stabbing his cereal with a vengeance, 'just, er, stuck on a line for a new poem.'

'Not another new one!' Jack grumbled obliviously, missing the looks Adrian was trying to send him across the table. 'You'll wear all our ears out with that…what are you lookin' at me like that for?'

Adrian gave up. He was worse than Billy this morning- it was as if, in the youngest Boswell's absence, Jack had taken over his role as the annoyingly ignorant one.

Nellie hovered around behind the three of them, alternating between glancing at her watch, Billy's empty place and glaring at the stairway. 'This kitchen seems so empty- your Dad breaking loose in his flat again now, Aveline livin' away from home in that cold, Proddy vicarage…'

'And don't forget Shifty, Mam,' Adrian pointed out.

'I was trying to forget Shifty!'

'Yeah,' said Jack with his mouth full, ignoring Nellie's comment. 'He's next door bonkin' Celia.'

'Don't you talk about dirty things like that at the breakfast table!' his mother cuffed him on the back of the head, before looking at her watch once more. 'Oh, where is that Billy? It's no use- I'm going to have to go upstairs and wake him up personally. Alarms are no good- he'd sleep on if there was a road drill going right beside his bed!'

Nellie clattered off up the stairs, and Adrian, seeing a chance and fully intent on seizing it, kicked Jack in the shin.

'Ow! 'ey! What'd you do that f-oh.' He sighed overdramatically and slumped his shoulders. 'Does it have to be now? I've only just woken up!'

Joey blinked. 'Am I interruptin' somethin'?'

'No,' Adrian began, 'but now you're here…'

'Yeah, I wanted to tell you all somethin',' Joey said before the poet could get any further, 'I wanted to say it when you were all together, but it's impossible to get our Billy in the same room with everyone else without his gob either shoutin' or eatin', so I'll take you when I can get you.'

'What are you on about?' muttered Jack, pouring himself another bowl of cereal.

Adrian kicked him again. 'As it turns out, we had something to say to you as well.'

'Yeah,' Jack mumbled into his breakfast, 'suppose we did.'

'Well, what I have to say is important, Adrian, and it'll only take a moment…'

'This is important too, Joey! The whole foundation of honesty on which our family is based is hangin'-'

'Adrian, will you listen…'

'-by a thread!'

'I'm just gonna say it, because if I sit here and listen to you I'll get nowhere…'

'I'm just gonna say it, because there's no reasonin' with you…'

Both of them cleared their throats.

'I'm seein' the DHSS lady,' Joey said, at the same time Adrian came out with 'We know you're seein' the DHSS lady!'

'What, you knew?' Joey cried.

'So you're admitting it?' Adrian cried simultaneously.

The two brothers stared at each other, mouths open. Jack looked from one to the other, snorted and returned to his breakfast.

Chapter Text

'I don't for the life of me see what's so funny!' Adrian stared in disbelief as Joey collapsed against the table, burying his head in his arms and guffawing loudly. 'Joey, this is no laughing matter! Don't you realise what you're doin' is morally and ethically wrong?! You can't just go out with the DHSS lady so as you can get more benefits! Think about her! Poor woman…frightening woman, but unfortunate all the same…'

Joey pounded the table with his fist and went on laughing.

'And what happens when she eventually finds out what you're up to? She'll be on the warpath, Joey! On the warpath! Not that you don't deserve it…'

'Adrian,' Joey said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. 'I think you've got the wrong end of the stick here…'

'I always looked up to you, Joey! To think that you would do thi-'

'Adrian, Adrian!' Joey waved his hands in front of his brother's face. 'You've got it all wrong, son, now will you listen!' He gave Adrian a stern look, holding it until his brother quietened down, a part of him thinking as he did so that he seemed to be picking up a behaviour or two from Martina.

'Now, look,' he said, folding his hands in front of him, 'I understand why you might have your doubts about this, but honestly, Adrian, it's not what you think. If I was after extra benefits from the DHSS, do you think I wouldn't be clever enough to find a loophole in the rules?' He winked.

Jack, now rather amused himself, felt it was about time he made his presence known. 'Yeah, Adrian,' he teased, 'what kind o'bloke do you think our Joey is? He wasn't after the money!'

'Thank you, Jack,' Joey said.

'It was the bonkin' he was-'

'-You can stop contributin' to this conversation now,' Joey snapped. 'That is not what I was trying to say at all.'

Jack just shrugged as if to say whatever you say, Joey, and went back to his breakfast.

'The thing is, Adrian, I wanted to tell you now, because-'

'Aw, hey, why did no-one wake me up earlier? I've got ten tonnes o' sandwiches to make in a few minutes!' Any chance at having a deep and meaningful conversation dissolved as Billy thundered down the stairs, buttoned up haphazardly in his clothes, Nellie following with a defeated look on her face.

'You had plenty of warning, Billy,' she sighed as the youngest of the Boswells began pulling things out of the fridge and the cupboards, cluttering up the kitchen table with various sandwich-making ingredients and knocking what remained of the breakfast things aside. 'Everyone else in this house manages! And don't just push the toast rack onto the floor like that! Anyone would think you were brought up in a barn, not amongst a loving family…'

'Well,' said Joey, standing up, 'I think I might go and sit in the parlour- you comin', Adrian?' The unspoken words hung in the air: to finish our conversation.

The poet followed suit, and Jack scrambled up to join them, with a cry of 'I'm not missin' this!'

'Let me say, once and for all,' Joey said, once they were all settled in the living room and out of earshot of their Mam and Billy, 'that I am not doin' this 'cause I'm after any benefits.'

'Well, what, may I ask, are you doing with the DHSS lady?' Adrian asked hysterically. 'I mean, it can't be that you're being made a fool for love, can it? You've learned your lesson about that, and it's not as if you…' he froze, realising something. His eyes widened, and he sat there staring at nothing and wringing his hands. 'Italy…' he murmured.

'Wha' about Italy?' Jack demanded. 'What's Italy got to do with anythin'? We know he got the DHSS to pay for the holiday, but 'e just said-'

'No, no,' Adrian stopped him, still musing and in a state of disbelief, 'when we took Grandad out on the town that night- and you were all happy and humming…'

'Now we're gettin' somewhere,' Joey said, sighing with relief that at last Adrian was beginning to understand, 'and you said if you didn't know any better you'd say…'

'…that you were in love,' Adrian finished, stunned. He furrowed his brow. 'But…the DHSS lady! Of all the girls in this city, you go for her?'

Jack still seemed to find the whole thing extremely entertaining. 'How long's this been goin' on then?'

'About five months, give or take a week.'

'Five months?' both his brothers shouted in unison, and Joey made a frantic gesture and hissed at them to keep their voices down.

'You're a dark 'orse,' said Jack. 'You've been messin' around with the Social Security girl for five months and you never breathed a word.'

'He never breathed a word about Roxy, either, until it all went to pieces.'

'I am not messin' around, and it's not all goin' to pieces!' Joey cried, frustrated.

'She's not pregnant, is she?' Adrian asked.

'No, she's not- will you let me finish?' Joey waited until both of them were quiet and still before going on. 'This isn't a joke, or a trick, this is serious. Okay? And I wanted to tell the two of you because…well,' he shuffled his feet, squared his shoulders and folded his hands together, prepping himself for a very serious announcement. 'I wanted to get you accustomed to the idea before I…brought her home.'

Both of his brothers' jaws dropped again.

'B-bring her home?' Adrian looked like he was about to faint.

Even Jack got his mind out of the gutter for a few moments.

'You really are serious about her,' he said in wonder, 'to want to bring her 'ere.'

'Oh, I've only been tryin' to tell you that for the last fifteen minutes!' Joey said. 'Yes, son, I'm serious about Martina, and I want to introduce her to the fam-i-ly. Properly.'

'You-and the DHSS lady?' Adrian said, more as a spoken thought than a direct question to Joey. ' It's a nightmare come true! Why? How? Why?'

Jack furrowed his brow. 'Her name's Martina?'

'Well, I didn't plan for this to happen, obviously, but- what did you think her name was?'

Jack shrugged. 'Dunno…Dragon, or, er, Frosty-Faced Cow, or…something.'

'Well anyway,' Joey turned their focus back to the matter at hand, determined to see this through to the end if it took all morning, and preferring not to dwell on what Jack had just called the woman he loved. 'I want to tell Mam about her, but I thought it'd be better if before all that went ahead, you lot had had time to get over all this.'

'But the DHSS lady…' Adrian said again, still in denial.

'That, sunshine, is precisely why I wanted to give you advanced warning. I would appreciate it if when I did bring her round, you could perhaps see your way to treatin' 'er like a person and not like a…' he shot a look at Jack 'frosty-faced DHSS dragon.'

'I can just see it now,' Adrian murmured. 'She'll sit round the table calling us by our numbers…'

'No she won't!' Joey slammed his head against the back of the sofa. 'Where do they all get it from? Honestly, Adrian, I thought you were supposed to be the educated one! She does have a life outside the Social Security, you know!'

'Well, you should know,' muttered Jack with a wink. Joey felt this comment was better off being ignored.

'But…why her? What do you see in that woman?' Adrian asked. 'She's about as loving as a piranha fish! Terrifies me.'

Joey just flashed all his teeth in a classic shows-what-you-know smile.

'And she despises you.'

'Of course she does, son. Of course she does.'

'I don't…I just don't know what you see in her!' the poet-artist repeated. 'Every time I come within fifty feet of her my nerves are 'angin' by a thread!'

'Ah, yes, but,' Joey said emphatically, 'you only see her in her official capacity. It's her job to hate us. It's her job to be severe. Didn't I just say that?'

Adrian still wasn't fully convinced. 'You're honestly sayin' there's another side to 'er?'

Joey rolled his eyes. 'Well of course that's what I'm sayin', son! What's happened to that A-level published poet brain of yours?'

'And how did you get to see this side of her in the first place? I mean, all she ever does is shout 'next' and call you Number Forty-Nine. How did you ever get around that?'

Joey shrugged. 'Well, er, I gave her a lift once. Sort of went from there, I suppose.'

'Why were you going round giving her lifts?' Jack cut on, wagging his eyebrows. 'Evenings in the backseat of yer Jag, was it?'

'No, it was not like that!' Joey was coming very close to doing a Billy and leaping to his feet. 'She was in a spot o' trouble, and I helped 'er out, that's all.'

'Helped her out in what way?' Jack asked, with a lascivious wink.

'The two of you- honestly!' Joey cried. 'Would either of you believe that this just happened to be love, and that that's the sole reason for the whole thing?'

'Love?' asked Adrian.

'Love?' asked Jack.

'Yes,' said Joey, exasperated. 'Love.'

'Well,' said Jack, ' I s'pose you can't fight love, can you?'

'What a good title for a poem,' Adrian said, all his reservations put aside for a moment. 'You can't fight love. Joey, your illicit relationship has given me new inspiration!'

'It's not illicit…look, all I'm askin' of you is that if I bring her round, say, for tea or somethin', you'll act normal.' Joey realised that might be not the best idea, and hastened to rephrase his words. 'I mean, act civil- I mean, forget for a while that she's the DHSS lady and think of her…'

'As yer girlfriend,' finished Jack.

'Exactly, sunshine. Exactly.'

'Yeh, I suppose,' Jack yawned.

'Well, you were polite enough when I brought Carmen round,' Adrian conceded reluctantly, 'but I can't promise my fear won't get the better of me.'

Joey sighed, realising this was probably the best he was going to get.

'Thanks, both of you.'

'Told Billy yet?' Jack asked.

'Not yet. You know what 'e's like- I'll have to tackle that very carefully.'

From out in the kitchen there was a clatter, followed by a shout of 'Mam! All the egg mayonnaise 'as gone everywhere, and I don't need this, I'm under stress and I'm gettin' a divorce, maybe, and-'

Joey, Jack and Adrian all looked at each other and nodded as one.

'Yeh,' said Jack, 'we know what 'e's like.' He snorted. 'Can't wait to clock his face when you do tell him!'

'Next!' Martina sent off a grumpy, middle-aged man with relish, lacing her fingers and stretching her arms over her head as she awaited her next victim.

A man in a red waistcoat, a cravat and a shock of long-ish curly hair stood and made his way toward the counter, holding his briefcase in front of his chest like a shield.

Oh, good. A Boswell. And not her favourite one.

Quite fun to tease, though. He always looked so terrified, and he was constantly embarrassing himself, dropping the contents of his briefcase everywhere and leaving behind cringe-worthy objects such as stuffed bunnies…well, this might not be so bad. Good for a bit of a laugh, she supposed. And he was the brother of the man she loved- she couldn't forget that. Joey's family meant the world to him. She was going to have to try and make the most of this.

She looked down, pretending not to have seen him, waiting until he'd shifted uncomfortably in his seat for a few moments. She might as well have a little bit of fun tormenting him- she was only human after all.

Adrian cleared his throat. The noise was barely audible. She acted as if she hadn't noticed.

He cleared it again, a bit louder this time, but no less nervously.

'Yes?' she looked up quickly, assuming her most intimidating expression, and he jumped.

'Er…I need a loan,' he said in a small voice.

She raised one eyebrow. 'Oh, yeah?'

'For, er…' his voice climbed in semitones, 'you see, I joined this writers' club, to express myself amongst others…'

'Oh, good,' she said dryly. 'A whole gang of whiny, unemployed poets…I suppose you'll all be comin' round 'ere at once and serenadin' me with Odes to Joblessness…'

Martina couldn't help a little internal snigger as Adrian quaked with fear. She didn't have to say much, only next or fill that in and he would already be shaking in his shoes. Apart from the ridiculous excuses for claiming more money, she couldn't see the family resemblance. Joey saw each and every one of her negative responses as a challenge- he enjoyed himself more when she refused to give him what he wanted. Adrian, on the other hand, tried for a little while, seemingly struggling with his own nerves, then let them get the better of him and gave in, usually almost in tears.

Keeping up with the strict persona she'd chosen for herself, she slammed a form down on the desk and pushed it towards him.

Adrian, trying to avoid looking her in the eyes, took hold of a pen and started scribbling, head down.

When he looked up to speak to her, his voice was so quiet she thought she might have imagined it.

'So,' he said, daring himself to address her, 'you and our Joey, then.'

Martina paused. He'd told them. That was the real reason for Adrian's visit, then. He was giving her the once-over, in his weakling, cowardly sort of way. Oh, he was a Boswell all right. Nosey just like the rest of them.

'Me and your Joey,' she repeated, making an effort to hide her amusement.

'I don't mean to sound…impertinent,' Adrian went on, still quavering, 'but I thought you despised him…'

'Oh, I do, Mister Boswell. I do.'

He looked like a but-why question was forming on his lips.

' 'ere,' she added.

'Oh.' He was still teetering on the verge of asking more, so Martina changed the subject.

'Well, are you gonna fill that in or aren't yer?'

'Oh, yes.' He picked up his pen and went on with his writing. 'Sorry.'

Martina smiled to herself. Well that was easy. If all the Boswell siblings took the news with this low level of resistance, then this inevitable official meeting that Joey kept going on about would go swimmingly.

Adrian went on slowly scratching with his pen, occasionally raising his eyes, then quickly lowering them once he realised she was watching his every move.

Martina bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. Oh, this was going to be fun.

'But if I might be so bold as to say something…' Adrian ventured, and Martina put her stern face back on and folded her hands.

'Go on.'

'See,' Adrian said, fidgeting with his hands and trying to put off getting to the point, 'the thing about our Joey is…'

'Is what?'

'Erm…'

Funny as Adrian's discomfort was, the novelty of watching him suffer was beginning to wear off and becoming replaced with the impatient desire to know what he was trying to say.

'Get to the point, Mister Boswell.'

'Oh, the point, yes.' Adrian cleared his throat, then did it again. 'Of course.'

Martina just looked at him, drumming her fingers.

'Are you really seein' our Joey, or is this just his idea of a joke?' he burst out with, then clapped a hand over his mouth in alarm.

The DHSS lady knew he hadn't meant to be offensive, and inside she was laughing, but she pretended to be incensed by his comment.

'And what do you mean by that, may I ask?' she demanded.

Adrian practically leapt out of his seat, clutching his briefcase as if it would protect him from the daggers she was glaring at him.

'Nothing,' he squeaked. 'Only that, well, Joey is somewhat…well, dishonest, and I was just making sure…'

'You think I don't know that? I know what he's like,' she gave him her most wickedly predatory smile, with a salacious wink just to further torture him. And it worked. Adrian was somehow beginning to turn red and go pale at the same time.

'Well, it's not that I was concerned because you're hard-hearted and terrif-no! no! It's just that you…er…are you giving him…extra benefits…or anything?' he sounded like a soprano rat now as he rambled, concentrating hard on playing with the locks on his briefcase to avoid looking her in the eye.

'I don't think that's any of your business, is it, Mister Boswell?'

'No, no, of course not,' he muttered, shaking from head to foot.

'And yes,' Martina said, thoroughly enjoying herself, 'I am heard-hearted and terrifyin'.' She lowered her voice. 'And if your Joey likes that, that's up to him, isn't it?'

'I-I-I…'

She cocked her head to one side.

'I'd better be going,' Adrian said, and scuttled off as fast as his legs could carry him, leaving behind him a trail of the contents of his briefcase, which he'd forgotten to close properly.

Martina waited until he'd left the building, and then burst out laughing.

Her colleagues stared and wondered just what was wrong with her.

Martina longed to pick the whole incident over with Joey. She forced herself through the last couple of hours of the working day, finding it a struggle not to pick up the phone and tell him about it, but the inundation of clients that afternoon meant she barely had a minute between complaints to hear herself think.

Forty minutes after they closed, after the large backlog of paperwork had been taken care of and everything locked up for the night, Martina made her way down the steps round the back of the Department of Health and Social Security, a slight spring in her step and a smile she couldn't wipe off.

Joey was picking her up at seven this evening, and she was going to relate the whole Adrian incident in detail, knowing he'd appreciate every word of it. She wondered just how they'd reacted when he'd told them- and she imagined them both predicting the visits she was bound to receive from the other siblings.

She stepped out onto the road, enjoying the last of the afternoon sun as she made her way down the maze of streets that made up the city. Martina wondered for the umpteenth time just how everything could have changed- the normal her would have been storming home, grumbling internally about her pointless existence and the dead-end job she was stuck in. Now she was smiling and humming and laughing far more often, and though her job was still depressing and horrible and filled with lazy complainers, she found she didn't mind half as much (although she made sure that when she was seated behind the partition, her countenance didn't change.)

Martina glanced around as she walked. This was the street that, a few months ago, she had nearly been assaulted on by a gang of drunks. It was dark then, she'd been alone and she'd feared for her life. Now it was light and she couldn't have felt safer. She could see for miles ahead of her and with the mood she was in, it never occurred to her that anything could happen.

She was wrapped in her own daydream, remembering the night Joey Boswell had come to her rescue when she'd least expected it and mulling over how strange it was that something that had made her so happy had come out of something terrible. Only a little part of her was nagging that she'd gotten quite complacent of late, and she chose to ignore it.

And so it was that, while she was busy musing about love and strange circumstances, that Martina made the biggest mistake she'd made in a long time.

She had gotten very complacent indeed. And so when someone waved to her and asked her for directions to the bank, she was in a good enough mood that she immediately went over to assist- something she certainly wouldn't have done in days of old.

Martina, still partially in her own little world, changed direction without thinking, and without stopping to realise that she recognised him.

'You can get there if you turn left,' she intended to begin, but she only got as far as you can before rough hands grabbed hold of her arms, and she found herself propelled round a corner and out of the public eye. And Martina didn't even have time to process what was going on before something was forced over her nose and mouth, she was hit by a strong chemically smell and a surge of dizziness and darkness closed in around her.

Very complacent indeed.

Chapter Text

Martina opened her eyes slowly. Her vision was blurring and a throbbing headache was building in her temples. What had happened? Where was she?

She tried to stretch her limbs, only to find that she couldn't move any of them. Was she paralysed? A mild dose of panic set in, and she became frantic in her attempts to feel her arms and legs. She blinked furiously, trying to wake herself up and adjust her eyes to the lack of light.

All she could remember was being in an exceptionally good mood. Had she been drunk? No, it wasn't that…she'd been laughing at something.

She'd been laughing at Adrian Boswell's cowardly attempt at nosiness, that's what it was. She'd been walking home, planning on telling Joey about it- how had she gone from that to ending up…here? Wherever here was- she still couldn't work it out, though she was beginning to see more clearly. It seemed to be a sort of dimly-lit warehouse, or a shed of some sort. But how? How?

Oh, that was right. Someone shady by the side of the road had asked for directions, and she'd just upped and gone over there, not even thinking about the consequences. That was totally unlike her- she hadn't even had a hint of wariness about her.

Am I losin' me touch?

If Martina had been thinking rationally she'd have realised that, worryingly, she didn't know where she was, she didn't know what had happened to her or what was going to happen, and the thing she was most concerned about was that she might lose her reputation as the most untrusting DHSS lady in history.

But she wasn't thinking rationally. Whatever she'd been smothered with had made her very light-headed.

She shut her eyes, breathing slowly and deeply and trying to clear her head- a difficult feat when the air was musty and each breath seemed to suffocate her further.

'Woken up at last, have you?' a voice penetrated her consciousness from one of the far corners of the room, and Martina's eyes snapped open as she recognised it. All of a sudden, things made a lot more sense, and she felt horribly, horribly sick.

'Martina?' Joey knocked on her door again, his fist beginning to hurt. He'd tried the doorbell seven times already, with no response. He looked at his watch. They'd arranged to meet at seven- it was nearly twenty past now, and no sign of her.

In a bout of desperation, Joey ran down the stairs and back out onto the street, craning his neck to look up at her window. The lights in her flat were out. Had she gone somewhere, not gotten home yet?

It wasn't like Martina to be late- having a permanent job had made her very punctual, to the point where she'd be quite cross if she was made to wait for Joey for more than five minutes. And it wasn't like her not to change her plans in a hurry- she wasn't a great one for spontaneity either- and if something come up she would surely have told him or at least left him a note.

He whipped out his mobile, punching in her number and shoving the phone to his ear. It rang and rang and rang. No answer. In a fit of desperation he tried the DHSS- maybe she'd had to work late. No answer there either.

Joey swallowed. Something was wrong. Martina wouldn't just stand him up- it wasn't her style. She wasn't a coward. If she didn't want to see him- for whatever reason- she would tell him straight out. She was used to coldly dismissing people- she did it every day at work. No, something had happened to her. Feeling a horrible lurch in his gut, he ran for his Jag. He didn't know what exactly had occurred, or how he was going to fix this, but he was going to try.

'Not you again!'

Martina was quite proud of herself for staying calm, given the situation she now realised she was in, but she remembered from her last…er, encounter that she'd done better by using her wits and not acting afraid.

'Doesn't seem to realise the gravity of the situation, does she, Yizzel?'

'Nah.'

What Yizzel and his more articulate mate didn't realise was that Martina was very well aware of the gravity of her situation, thank you very much. Her apparent paralysis, she'd figured out, was actually just that she was tied to a chair, and though she still didn't know where she was, it didn't take a Sherlock Holmes to guess that it was some sort of run-down temporary hideout.

'What do you want with me?' she asked, making use of her DHSS voice.

'Need some money, don't we, Yizzel?'

'Yeah. Money.'

'Then why didn't you just take my handbag like normal muggers?' Martina felt a slight sense of victory as Yizzel's mate made a face. Always good to get an insult in. It worked with the scroungers she dealt with every day- she might even to be able to talk herself out of this the same way she talked her clients out of forms they didn't need.

She could at least buy herself some time, anyway.

'I always said she 'ad a good sense o' humour, this one,' Yizzel's mate said with laugh. 'Made o' good stuff.'

'Yeh. Good stuff.'

Yizzel's mate took a step forward, brushing a finger across her cheek. She refused to flinch, refused to even blink. She would not be intimidated by this gangster-wannabe and his idiot sidekick.

'Look at that. Made o' stone as well.'

'Yeah.'

Oh, that repetitiveness was painful. She'd had one or two Yizzel-related nightmares in the days that followed her first meeting with the duo, but she'd forgotten just how annoying it had all been. She decided to ask another question just so she didn't hear another 'yeh' or 'nah' for a while.

'What's Joey done now?' And it was a reasonable question. Whatever it was, she was going to kill him for it. She was never fully sure what to expect from her evenings with Joey Boswell- he gave the word 'unpredictable' a whole new meaning- but one thing she knew for certain, this didn't come close. He'd promised her he didn't get involved in dealings with these two on a regular basis, and if it turned out he'd been lying to her, there'd be bits of him lying all over the city by the time she was through with him.

'Oh, not Joey.'

'No. Not Joey,' Yizzel repeated.

Oh, give me strength. If her hands hadn't been tied behind her back she would have been sorely tempted to reach out and slap Yizzel for being so irritating. It was a small consolation that Joey wasn't involved. So far.

'I think I should explain all this from the beginning. What d'you say, Yizz-'

'Er, could you save time and not ask yer boyfriend?' Martina cut in. 'I don't wanna be here all night.' Of course, Martina had no idea what they were intending to do with her, let alone when they planned to set her free, but she felt the figure of speech lent the sort of sharp impatience that might get Yizzel's mate to hurry up with his story.

The two thugs shot her some very disapproving looks.

'If I were you, sweetheart, I'd watch my tongue,' he made a tutting noise, 'and remember who's the one tied up here.'

'Yeah, remember.'

Martina groaned. 'For goodness' sake! Can't you either think o' somethin' original ter say or keep yer gob shut?!'

'Moving along,' said Yizzel's mate, as the DHSS lady strained to cross her fingers that Yizzel wouldn't say yeah, moving along, 'where were we? Oh, yeah, explaining it from the beginning.'

'Yeah. The beginning.'

Martina gave up.

'We were out on an errand the other day, weren't we, Yizzel?'

'Yeah.'

How much more of this? thought Martina.

'Just stepped out for a minute, didn't we?'

'Yeah. A minute.'

Oh, God, please take me now. I can't take any more.

'And someone,' he shot a meaningful and rather cross look at Yizzel, 'left me car unlocked, didn't they?'

'It was an accident, gov!'

'Well, when we got back, someone had driven off with it, hadn't they?'

'What's this got to do with me?' Martina asked. 'You know, you could always just 'ave come down ter the DHSS like everyone else and made yer claim there. It would have been easier to give you a form to replace yer car if I could move.'

'Ah, I think you're missing the point, isn't she, Yizzel?'

'Yeah. Missin' the point.'

'I think I might understand the point better if you would get to it- wouldn't you say, Yizzel?' She couldn't resist.

'Yeh, get to the-oi!' Yizzel looked affronted. 'She's messin' with me 'ead, gov!'

Martina snickered, unable to help thinking that her sense of humour had become ever so slightly Joey Boswell-esque over the past few months.

'Anyway,' Yizzel's mate looked from one to the other with a threatening glare, 'we recovered the car, didn't we? The idiot who nicked it lost control, didn't he? Drove straight through the cemetery, he did. Knocked over eight tombstones and then went into a wall. Car was a wreck, weren't it, Yizzel?'

'Yeh. A wreck.'

'I still don't see what this has to do with me.'

'I was just comin' to that!' snapped Yizzel's mate impatiently. 'If you would be so kind as to let me finish.'

'Well, finish, by all means- and do try not to take all night.'

He cast her another glare. 'The driver is someone I think you know quite well.'

'Yeh. Quite well.'

Martina frowned. 'Who?'

Yizzel's mate gestured for him to step aside, and she noticed for the first time that the three of them weren't alone in the little shack. Another man sat in the shadows, and when Yizzel waved, he lurched reluctantly forward into the light, shrugging his patchy shoulders and flashing a guilty smile.

'I suppose I just can't help it- me and cars are a lethal combination,' he said in a scratchy Irish accent, and Martina realised that the phrase this couldn't get any worse had just been put to shame.

'Shifty?!'

Joey tried home first, just in case, by some strange twist of fate she'd gone there to meet him, but he rightly hadn't held out much hope that she'd be waiting for him on the doorstep of 30 Kelsall Street.

The house was alive with clattering and shouts as usual- Nellie dishing out dinner and trying to remain sane while the rest of the Boswell children ran about arguing with each other for the usual reasons- divorces, ruined paintings, et cetera. For some reason Aveline was there too, the trail of mascara going down her cheeks indicating she'd probably had a quarrel with Oswald.

Joey ran up to his room- he wasn't sure why, because she obviously wouldn't be there. Still, now he was here, he felt he might as well push Mongy off his bed, dump his leather jacket on it and pull on his full-length, ultra-stylish leather coat instead. He was planning to be out all night looking for her if he had to be, and he wanted to be prepared. Or, at least, looking his best. If it turned out she'd just forgotten and was just going for a walk, he could surprise her in all his finery.

That's what he told himself, anyway, and it sufficed as a placebo incentive. Deep down Joey knew something was wrong. He'd known just as he knew something was wrong the morning before his father had been hospitalised in Rome- a sort of niggling premonition that shuddered in his veins and set his teeth on edge. Something terrible had happened- he just knew it.

He sprinted down the stairs and for the front door.

'Joey! Where are you going at this time of day?' Nellie called from the kitchen, waving after him. 'We're just about to start dinner!'

'Can't stop for dinner, Mam,' Joey said, assuming his most cheerful tone and hoping like mad it'd sound convincing. 'Got to step out, run a few errands.'

'But, Joey-'

'Save me a plate!' he called over his shoulder, halfway through the vestibule.

'Joey, wait!' Adrian jumped to his feet, almost upsetting his glass of wine in his haste. 'Before you go, I need a word with you!' he scampered off into the living room, leaving behind a half dished-up meal.

'Later, son, later!'

'No- this is important!'

'So is what I've gotta do- I'll talk to you when I get home.' Whenever that might be- because he wasn't returning until he'd found Martina.

Without another word to anyone he flung open the door and strode out into the street. It still wasn't dark yet, and it wasn't all that cold, but Joey reflexively pulled his coat tighter around him, fumbling around in his trouser pocket for his car keys.

'Joey! Joey!'

Joey growled under his breath but otherwise ignored Adrian. He didn't have time for whatever heartbroken poet's crisis his brother was going to yak on about.

'Joey!' Adrian grabbed hold of his arms, wrestling the key from his hand. Joey shouted out in protest.

'Before you go runnin' off to…whatever it is you do…I really need to talk to you.'

'Adrian, give me my keys!' He lunged forward to snatch them but his brother held them out of reach.

'Look, I have to say this, Joey!'

The eldest Boswell folded his arms. He wasn't going to win this one. 'Well, go on, but get your skates on- I'm in a hurry.'

'I need to talk to you about Martina.'

Joey froze. 'What about her? Have you seen-'

'Well, I went down to see 'er this afternoon…'

'And?' Joey was practically bouncing on his toes.

'Well, I might've put my foot in it a bit- I was trying to let her know I knew- and that I was okay about it…'

Joey rolled his eyes. 'What'd you do that for?'

'I just thought it might smooth the path for you a bit…only I think I insulted her.'

Oh, dear. This didn't sound good at all. Maybe she wanted to leave him because of his family…

'And what did she do, then?' he asked, dreading what the answer might be.

'Well, nothin' much…she made a few comments about it not being my business,' he made a face, 'I think she was makin' fun o' me, now I look back.'

Oh, well that didn't sound all that bad. Joey frowned suspiciously.

'Are you sure?'

'Yeah- oh, I am sorry, Joey, I was just…'

'No, are you sure she wasn't…really cross? Even more than normal? Or upset?'

'Well, I don't know. She always seems cross to me…'

'Listen, Adrian,' Joey was fed up. This wasn't getting anywhere. He spun his brother around, pushing him up against the side of the Jag. 'I was supposed to meet Martina this evenin', and when I got to her flat she wasn't there. I tried ringin' her and she didn't answer. I have no idea where she is.'

Adrian's face went pale. 'Oh, no.' He slumped back against the car door. 'I've ruined your relationship.'

'No, no, Adrian, calm down, son. You said she was makin' fun of you, didn't you?'

'Well, she seemed to be.'

'I know Martina. If she was doin' that, chances are she wasn't really upset. And even if she was, she'd tell me straight away, believe you me.'

Adrian still looked doubtful.

'D'you honestly think, son, that if she was angry with me she wouldn't let me have it?'

'Oh,' his brother laughed uneasily, 'yeah. I suppose not. Why d'you think she stood you up, then?'

'Martina wouldn't do that,' Joey growled. 'She just wouldn't. Somethin's wrong here.'

'Are you sure she wouldn't? She can be a bit…cruel…at times…' Adrian trailed off when he clapped eyes on Joey's face.

'Sorry,' he muttered.

'As I said,' Joey ground out slowly, refusing even to entertain the notion, 'something's wrong. And seein' as you know about Martina now, and as you're feelin' so guilty about what you apparently said to 'er earlier…and because you want to make it up to me for the insinuations you just made about the woman I love…' he delivered this line as a threat, with an unspoken don't you, 'you can help me find her- okay?'

Adrian winced. 'Okay.'

'You'd think I was running a boarding house, not a family home,' Nellie said, scraping the food off Adrian's plate back into the serving dish, 'everyone runnin' off all over the place. Well, if they don't come when the dinner's being served they needn't think they'll get any later!'

She glanced over at Shifty's empty place. 'It wouldn't bother me if he didn't come home. There'll be no dinner waiting for him anyway!'

'Is he round at Celia's again?' Billy asked, already laying claim to the turnips Adrian had forfeited by going after Joey, his comment immediately prompting a long spiel from his mother about wondering what her lovely, understanding neighbour-friend would ever see in 'that scruff.'

Jack was toying with a slice of beef, but he really didn't feel like eating it. Something was on his mind. Something that wasn't about vans or antiques or Mongy- the usual things which plagued him of a dinner time. He tried to put it out of his mind, chopped off a large hunk of the meat and stuffed it in his mouth.

Food was no substitute for easing what was eating at his brain. He gave up and slammed his fork down.

'I'm goin' after Joey.'

Nellie watched him lumber out of the room, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. 'I have the feeling you're all up to something you'll have to lie through your teeth about later.' She shook her head, leaning over the table and taking Jack's plate away. 'No dinner for Jack then, either.'

'I'm not up to something, Mam,' Aveline sniffled.

'Of course you're not, sweetheart.' Nellie shot her a loving smile. 'You're far too busy contending with that Proddy vicar's demands.'

'And I'm not up to something either,' Billy piped up, then paused, considered and leapt to his feet. 'They leave me out of everything, they do!'

'Billy! Sit down and finish your dinner!'

'Everyone leaves me out of everything!' he shouted. 'This lot never tell me things, Grandad didn't tell me when he had them all round the other day, Julie leaves me out of parenting decisions about my baby…aw, hey, I'm goin' after them too! I'm sick o' bein' left out!'

Nellie didn't bother to try and stop him. She just waited until he'd slammed the front door, picked up his plate and placed it in front of Aveline.

'Eat up, my girl. It's just us for dinner tonight.'

Chapter Text

'No,' said Martina for about the fifth time, 'oh, no. No, you can't blame me for that one!' She couldn't point at Shifty, not when her hands were bound, but she assumed they knew what she meant.

'We split up six months ago- whatever 'e did to yer car has nothin' to do with me!'

'That's not quite how this works,' said Yizzel's mate, tutting and shaking his head. 'You see, someone has to pay for the damages done and-'

'Did she just say she split up with Shifty?' Yizzel cut in.

'Well, well, well,' Yizzel's mate hummed, 'you do like your Boswells, don't you? You gonna keep goin', collect the whole set?'

Martina felt bile rising in her throat, but restrained herself from saying anything. It was none of these idiots' business who she'd been involved with in the past- or the present, for that matter. She shot the three of them a look of disdain.

'Look, I'm sorry about all this,' Shifty jerked his head into a side-shrug, 'they wanted me to pay for the damages, you see, and I'm broke.'

'And you thought I'd bail you out?' her eyes widened in disgusted surprise. 'Even if I did have the money, there is no way I would even consider getting' you out o' trouble. I'm only toleratin' you for Joey's sake, and if…' she trailed off, suddenly realising something. The last time she'd come into contact with Yizzel and his mate, they had targeted Joey when his dad hadn't paid what he owed them.

She screwed her eyes shut. 'It's not me you want ter bail you out.'

'Ah, she catches on,' Yizzel's mate smiled maliciously. 'At last.'

'Well, you have to admit, our Joey's the only one who's got that kind o' money,' Shifty offered, and Martina opened her eyes again, staring at him in horror.

'Are you condoning what they're doin'?'

'No, no, no,' Shifty wailed, each of his subsequent no-s becoming longer and higher in pitch, 'this wasn't my idea!'

She didn't know whether to believe him. It seemed the sort of thing Shifty would do- put others' necks on the line to save himself.

'Your Joey's often, shall we say, reluctant to help us out. Often needs a bit of incentive, doesn't he, Yizzel?'

'Yeah. Bit of an incentive.'

'That's where you come in.'

'Why am I not surprised?' Martina rolled her eyes. She might have been mildly frightened for her life, churned up inside about what they were planning to do, but at the same time, she just couldn't shy away from the thought that Yizzel and his mate were the most pathetically predictable crooks in history.

'What are you gonna do? Phone 'im from a public booth? Leave a ransom note?'

'Nah. We're gonna send Shifty out to fetch him.'

'And what if he doesn't come back?!' The words tumbled from Martina's mouth before she could think to hold them in, effectively shattering her calm, sarcastic, unconcerned façade. She wouldn't put her life in Shifty's hands- as far as she knew, the instant he was free he'd bunk off and no-one would ever hear from him- or her, given her current situation- again.

'Oh, he won't do a runner,' Yizzel's mate said, his lip curling in a way Martina found unsettling (and in a strange way, potentially useful- she found herself thinking of copying it for use at work), 'he knows we'll find him again if he does.'

He turned, walking towards the far wall and reaching out. Martina couldn't quite see what he was doing from the way she was angled, but she heard the unmistakeable clunk of a bolt, the creak of a door, and then light was filtering in from outside, and she realised Shifty was being dismissed.

'Fetch your cousin- and bring him within the hour- you hear?'

'Yeah. Within the hour.'

They were all gathered around the doorway now, the three of them, and then Shifty was gone, and Dumb and Dumber were still there, leaning together and conspiring as they watched him go.

A few minutes went by that way. Martina began to lose feeling in one of her feet and tried to move it about with much success. More minutes went by, and they still stood in the doorway, talking in murmurs. Martina became quite bored with being ignored. If these goons were going to insist on abducting her they could at least do it right.

'What are you gonna do to me, then?' she called, laying on the thickest couldn't-care-less attitude she could manage. 'Torture me?'

'Oh, nothing yet,' Yizzel's mate said, not bothering to look at her. 'So long as Joey brings the money.'

'Yeah. Nothing yet. So long as Joey brings the money.'

Martina cringed. Scrub the torture. Listening to Yizzel's permanent echo made her feel as though it were already happening to her. She leaned her head against the back of the chair and shut her eyes, sighing. It was a terrible strain, staying calm, pretending the whole thing was boring, but she forced down the fear, knowing it would catch up with her later.

How long had it been? How long would it take for Joey to get here? How long was it before she could let him have it for all the trouble he'd gotten her into?

'Where are we gonna start, Joey?'

Joey paused, key halfway into the car door lock. He hadn't really thought of that. He put his head in his hands.

Adrian came quietly up to his side, putting his hand on his brother's shoulder. It didn't really help, but Joey couldn't be bothered to shake it off.

Oh, this was hopeless. Where did you start looking for someone, when you had no clue as to where they might have gone?

'We could always-' Adrian began, but before he could elaborate on what they could always do, the front door was flung open and Jack and Billy came charging out of the house, shouting and shoving at each other.

Joey was momentarily shocked enough to raise his head from his hands and stare. 'What are you two doin'?'

'None of you ever tell me anything!' Billy roared, and the other three hastily shushed him.

'Do you wanna wake Grandad up?' Jack hissed. 'Keep yer voice down!'

Billy looked a little nonplussed, but nonetheless screwed up his face and continued his rant in hushed tones. 'You lot are always goin' places and whisperin' about things and knowin' things without me! You all 'ave problems and you don't tell me- AND DON'T THINK I'M NOT EXPERIENCED WITH PROBLEMS, 'CAUSE I'M A FATHER SO I'M MILES MORE EXPERIENCED THAN-'

'Shhh!' The other three hissed again, gesturing at him violently.

Jack shot Joey an apologetic look. 'I'm sorry about 'im- 'e just followed me and I couldn't stop 'im…'

Joey held up his hands. 'Well now he's 'ere it can't be helped. Anyway, I may be glad o' you two- I need all the help I can get.'

Jack clapped a hand to his head. 'I knew it! It's something to do with the Dragon, isn't it?'

His brother glared. 'With who?'

'Sorry. With Martini. Isn't it?'

'Martina. And yes, son. It is.'

'What, the lady at the DHSS?' Billy asked loudly. The others ignored him.

'She's gone missing,' Joey explained to those of his siblings who understood. 'I don't know what's happened to her, but I need to find her, and…'

'Done a runner, has she?' Jack butted in. 'Adrian put her off?'

Joey glared. 'She wouldn't do that, okay? She would've said somethin' to me.'

'I asked a QUESTION!' Billy hollered, and was completely ignored once again.

'But if you don't know where she's gone,' Jack said, 'and she hasn't said…you don't have anythin' to go on. How're you gonna find her?'

Joey didn't know what to say. He hadn't the first idea how he was going to find her, but he had to do something. He couldn't just sit around until a lead came up that he could follow- when someone he cared about might possibly be in trouble he had no patience for waiting whatsoever.

He opened his mouth to make some excuse, when a shout startled the group.

'Joey!'

The four brothers turned to see Shifty hurtling down the road like a bat out of hell.

'JOEY!'

He stumbled to a stop in front of Joey's Jag, putting all his weight against the bonnet as he fought to catch his breath. Joey was at his side in an instant.

'Shifty? What's goin' on, son?'

'Yiz… 'tina…money…car…' the Irishman panted.

'Calm down,' Joey instructed, taking hold of his shoulders, 'breathe, Shifty. Explain slowly.'

'It's Martina,' Shifty said, when at last he could speak, and a momentary panicked thought shot straight to Joey's core. Had they…was she…did he…were they…?

He forced himself to stay calm. 'What about her?'

His cousin's response of 'I may have done something incredibly stupid,' did nothing to assuage his worries.

'What did you do?' Joey asked, a little more harshly than he'd intended.

'Stole a car…' Shifty rasped, 'drove…into the wall…Yizzel and that friend of his…they want the money…'

'I don't wanna hear about the latest trouble you've gotten yourself into, Shifty!' Joey shook his cousin, desperate and exasperated and worried out of his mind, 'what's happened to Martina?'

'I was tryin' to explain!' he growled. 'Yizzel's got her!'

Joey realised it said something about him that his instantaneous reaction was one of relief. He kicked himself for putting his unwarranted jealousy of Shifty above Martina's wellbeing, and resolved to firmly focus on the fact that she was, perhaps in mortal peril, letting dread fill him up and choke out his feelings of envy.

'Why?' he was clutching Shifty's shoulders so hard now he thought his fingernails might go right through the fabric of the Irishman's shirt.

'I just told you, didn't I? I crashed their car- they want the money!'

'But why take Martina? It makes no…' Joey paused. It made perfect sense, when he thought about it. 'It's me they're after.' The words came out flat and quiet.

'Well, you have to admit, Joey, you can afford the ransom- you're the only one in the family who can, let's be fair…'

'Fair?' Joey fairly exploded. 'Oh, I'll give you fair, Shifty!'

'Now, now,' Shifty took a step back, raising his hands as Joey advanced on him, 'don't do anything you'll regret! Remember- they've still got Martina.'

The eldest Boswell sighed. Of course he was right- but when this was over, he was going to have a serious talk with his cousin about the consequences of his constant desire to nick things. This had to stop- he was putting people's lives at stake now.

'Where are they?' he asked, trying his utmost to keep his temper under control.

'I'll show you,' Shifty replied, and Joey nodded, unlocking the passenger door of his Jag and gesturing inside the car.

'Come on, Jack, Adrian,' he called over his shoulder. 'It'll be better with more of us.'

The other two hastened to climb into the backseat. Billy stared at them all with an outraged look on his face.

'Eh? Where you all going? Aren't you gonna invite me?'

'Well, seeing as you don't know what's goin' on, sunshine…' Joey said with an apologetic shrug, 'anyway, there won't be enough room in the car if we bring you.' He jumped in himself, starting up the Jag and ramming his foot down onto the clutch.

Over the rumble of the engine he could hear his youngest brother's furious cries of how they always left him out of everything, and he felt the slightest twinge of guilt. No matter. There were important things to be done tonight, and Billy was still only a baby lad- and a tactless one at that. He wasn't at all the sort of person who could be counted on to behave during a diplomatic meeting, and he always needed plenty of time to rant and rave after someone dropped a bombshell on him. Now certainly wasn't the right time to involve him in the Martina saga. When they got home Joey would explain it all properly.

The eldest Boswell stomped on the accelerator and they were off, leaving behind their incensed sibling and hurtling off down the road.

Billy watched them go, his face all but turning red. 'Well….well sod you all, then!' he shouted at the empty space where the car had once been, and then stormed across the street, pounding on the door of Number 41.

Julie answered the door, clad in a dressing gown and wearing a very cross expression. 'Don't you keep comin' over here, Billy Boswell!' she snapped. 'My solicitor said you're not to come in 'ere anymore!'

'I'm movin' back in with you,' Billy said, barging past her into the house. 'That lot are always excluding me!'

With a heavy sigh, Julie shut the door.

'It's been forty minutes, Yizzel.'

The leader of the operation, whatever his name might be, was still standing at the door, staring dramatically out into the night as though he fancied himself the star of some major film.

'Yeah. Forty minutes,' Martina lip-synced along with Yizzel, before rolling her eyes. And she'd thought her job was boring and repetitive enough. Just over half an hour with Yizzel had changed her mind about that. If she got out of here, she resolved she would never complain about the drudgery of her work again. She would always be grateful for her job from now on, and she would act accordingly.

She would do that, and she would kill Joey.

And Shifty.

Especially Shifty.

But especially Joey.

Or maybe both of them at the same time. She'd decide later.

Where was Joey, anyway? She hated to admit it, but she was just the smallest bit disappointed he hadn't been there within five minutes, so devoted that he was desperate to save her. Of course, she reminded herself, that was unrealistic and quite possibly impossible. Shifty had to get back to Kelsall Street to tell him first, and she had no idea where they were, let alone how long it would take him to get back. She did hope he'd hurry up though.

Keeping a lid on her fear by pretending she was bored, she let her gaze sweep across the floor, counting the floorboards for want of something better to do. From somewhere to her left, Yizzel shifted his weight. His mate paced the width of the doorway a few times, looked at his watch, and then clomped off in another direction and disappeared from her line of sight, sweeping his coat behind him as he went.

Something small and white fluttered unnoticed from Yizzel's mate's pocket, skittering onto the floor a mere few feet from where Martina was sitting. She squinted, trying to work out what it was. Looked like some sort of business card, though as it was face-down it was impossible to work out what was on it. Hmm. Still. Whatever it was might help her- the DHSS lady in her was beginning to suspect it might help her find out whatever it was these crooks got up to. If only she could reach it. Martina pushed her foot forward, trying to inch it towards the card and giving herself rope burn.

She growled under her breath, moving to fold her arms but realising that, in her current, tied-up condition she couldn't even do that. Oh, this was ridiculous. How long had it been now?

For kicks, she turned her head and asked Yizzel.

'Dunno,' he said. 'I'll ask the boss when he comes back.'

Martina was simultaneously impressed by Yizzel's ability to string that many words into a sentence and annoyed by his lack of ability to have even one thought for himself, even if it was something so simple as knowing what the time was.

'Are you really that spineless?'

'Yer wha'?'

Martina tutted. 'Too afraid of what the big bad boss might do to even check yer own watch?'

'I'm not afraid.'

He sounded mildly ticked-off, and she felt she might have touched a nerve. With a wry smile, she shifted a little in her chair and went on.

'Always letting 'im push you about…doesn't it ever bother you that you don't dare say anythin' unless you 'ave 'is approval?'

His eye twitched. She was really winding him up now.

'Condemned to always be 'is shadow, 'is echo…'

'Gov!' yelled Yizzel, hastily getting up. 'What time is it now?'

Martina let herself feel a twinge of triumph as he ran out of the room after his mate. If she was going to be held for ransom she might as well have a little bit of fun while she could.

She waited for Yizzel's mate to return and make more remarks that could be sycophantically echoed, but a minute ticked by, then another, and she began to wonder if they were just going to leave her here alone until someone turned up to pay for her.

Well, at least if she was alone she could try and get hold of that business card. With great difficulty she shuffled her chair forward an inch.

'Right! Listen, I've had more than enough o' this!' The voice made her jump, and though she was still furious with its owner, it was the most wonderful voice in the world to her ears.

Joey stood in the doorway, taking the room in, his eyes flashing as they alighted upon her.

'Martina! Are you okay?'

'Oh, just marvellous!'

'I am so sorry, sweetheart, I am so sorry…' He flew to her, kneeling at her side, hands fumbling with the ropes around her.

'The knots are at the back, Joey.'

'Of course they are. Of course they are.' He grabbed her face, gave her an urgent, desperate, apologetic kiss before resuming with his unsuccessful loosening of her bonds. His hands were shaking- the DHSS lady wanted to remind him that it was her who had been abducted and threatened, not him.

'I thought you said you didn't get involved with this lot all the time,' she said conversationally, as Joey finally started to make headway on the first knot. 'In fact, I think you promised.'

'It was Shifty, sweetheart- I'll bloody kill him when this is over- why won't this come undone?'

'He drove their car into a wall, I know…and you can't kill 'im- that honour belongs to me. Anyway, you'll be long dead by then. I'm doin' you first.'

'That's got one,' Joey said, and Martina felt some of the blood return to her arms. 'Listen, sweetheart, I'm gonna get you out of this, and then I'm gonna fix this once and for all, and then we'll be fine, won't we? We will…'

'Joey, for goodness' sake, calm down!'

'Oh, you came then, did you?'

Joey instantly smothered his panic and in a split second he'd transformed back into the effortlessly cool, unemotional, suave Joey Boswell that usually strutted about the street- well, outwardly, anyway.

'Greetings,' he said, but it sounded menacing, rather than his usual exuberant cry.

'Brought the readies, have you?' Yizzel's mate strode slowly towards him, hand outstretched.

'Why is all this necessary?' Joey growled.

'Your Shifty took something that belonged to me.'

'Yeh,' said Yizzel melting out of the shadows and coming to stand beside his mate.

'And it don't matter how much you threaten someone, if they ain't got the readies, they ain't got the readies.'

'He ain't got the readies to pay for the car he crashed,' Yizzel explained.

'And so if you couldn't get the money from him, kidnappin' my girlfriend was the next best thing, was it?' Joey was speaking through his teeth, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like his teeth might shatter.

'You know us, Joey! We never mean any harm- do we Yizzel?'

'Nah. No harm.'

'We just wanted to give you a little motivation to pay up- now that your Dad seems to be on the mend, we needed somethin' else, didn't we, Yizzel?'

'Yeah. We did,' said Yizzel and Martina at the same time. Yizzel turned, giving Martina a gormless look.

She smirked.

'Boswell, will you tell her to stop messin' with Yizzel's head?'

'Why? You've messed with her enough.'

'You ain't seen nothin' o' messin' with her if you don't hand over the readies.'

'Listen,' Joey said, taking a step forward. Even though Yizzel's mate had backup in the form of an echoing minion, he still shuffled back a little. Joey could be intimidating when he wanted- and he did have height on his side. Martina didn't, by any means, approve of that sort of threatening behaviour- nor of anything to do with this whole, messy, criminal situation- but she had to admit it was just a teensy bit exciting watching Joey throw his weight about, let people know who was boss.

'This stops here,' Joey went on. 'If you think that every time you're a bit strapped for cash you can start threatenin' me, my family, Martina…you have got another thing comin'.'

Yizzel's mate started to protest, but Joey held up a hand, and he fell silent.

Martina's uwitting smile increased a little more at this.

'Yes, Shifty might have nicked your car and wrecked it- but consider yourself lucky. He does the same sort of thing on a weekly basis- and we have to live with him. And whatever he does with you lot, it has nothin' to do with me. So what's gonna happen is this,' he stepped even closer, 'you are gonna let her go, you are gonna write off your car and you never gonna bother any of my fam-i-ly again, or I will see to it that you regret it.'

'Oh, yeah,' said Yizzel's mate, still visibly unnerved but trying to seem unconcerned, 'you and whose army?'

'Mine,' said Joey. Three shadows appeared in the doorway, and then Adrian, Jack and Shifty had materialised around him. Mafia Boswells in action. If this weren't supposed to be a serious moment, Martina might have laughed.

'Oh, playin' the Godfather again, are you?'

'It's worked before,' said Joey. 'Or have you forgotten the candlestick incident?'

'Made us look like right prats that night,' Yizzel told Martina and was ferociously shushed by his boss.

'Stop talking to her, Yizzel!' he turned back to Joey and the others. 'All you lot have is numbers. We've got intelligence and cunning on our side.'

'Yeah, look at Yizzel!' Martina couldn't resist.

'Yeah, look at-' he froze. 'Don't you get smart with me- you're a hostage, you know- this isn't meant to be entertainment!'

Martina's now slightly loosened bonds gave her the freedom to shrug her shoulders.

'Not only are we a big, strong, united, honourable family,' Joey said, pausing after each adjective to let them set in, 'but we are cleverer than you give us credit for…ask Martina,' he jerked his head in her direction. 'And whatever you come up with, we can go one better and see you're brought down. Now let her go.'

'You've got nothin' on us,' said Yizzel's mate.

'Ah, but there are more of us,' Joey shot back instantly, and the quartet of Boswells all advanced as one. Yizzel's mate looked from one to the other, sizing them up. It was clear enough he'd lost this battle now- even with his drone Yizzel as backup he had only half the manpower required to match the Boswells. He'd have to concede, at least for the moment.

'Very well, squire,' Yizzel's mate said slowly, stepping away from the gang and towards Martina. 'I'll give you your girl back…' he came closer still but before he reached her Joey gave a nod to Jack and Shifty, who rushed forward to flank him.

'I'm not takin' any chances,' Joey said. 'Jack can untie her. If I let you, next thing you know you'd have a knife at her throat and be makin' more threats.'

Two Boswells now descended upon her, Jack hacking through the rope with a pocketknife, Shifty making a mess of the one knot he was trying to undo, concentrating more on muttering to her that he could explain. Martina wanted to rip his head off, but she wasn't quite untied yet.

'You think you're smart, don't you, Joey?' Yizzel's mate asked. 'Just because you've got your little minions to help carry out your dirty work.'

Joey seemed to be ignoring the comment. Jack and Shifty finished with the bonds and stepped away, leaving Martina to struggle out of the mess of cables herself. Not quite the romantic rescue she'd secretly hoped for.

'I'm not gonna forget about this, you know, Joey. I'm not happy.'

'He's not happy,' said Yizzel, probably, Martina thought, because he felt he hadn't contributed anything to the conversation for a while.

'Go back to the car,' Joey said to his brothers and cousin, and they did just as he said.

He really is the Godfather. Martina moved to join the others, but the card on the floor caught her eye once again. With a deft glance, she leaned forward, snatched it up off the floor and pocketed it.

Joey held out his hand, taking hold of hers and pulling her against his side. 'If you ever bring her into this again, I promise you you will live to regret it.'

He turned, ushering her out the door and leaving Yizzel and his mate behind to brood on their failed plot.

'This isn't finished, you know, Joey! I'm not gonna forget this!'

'Believe me,' Joey growled, 'neither am I.'

Martina blinked reflexively as she stepped outside, even though it was dark now. Somehow the shock of the whole incident hadn't quite hit her yet, but neither had the relief that it was over. She felt nothing. Not yet, anyway, but she could tell it was coming, and it was all going to crash down on her at once, probably along with some well-overdue anger.

She felt Joey's arms go around her, and she returned the gesture without emotion. Joey held her tightly, burying his face in her hair.

'Martina, I am so sorry, sweetheart.'

'I know.' It was all she could think of to say.

He pulled back, raking his eyes over her, anxiously checking for signs of harm. 'Are you okay?'

'Well, I've had better evenings, I must say, Mister Boswell.'

'I am so s-'

'All right, all right,' she held up her hands. 'Stop sayin' that. It's not gonna make any difference.'

He looked devastated and for reasons she wasn't sure of she found herself putting a hand on his arm, even though, strictly speaking, she was the one who should need comforting right now.

'Come on,' he said. 'We'll take you home.'

She glanced from him to the other three Boswells, waiting patiently by the Jaguar, standing in a row like a line of bodyguards- or hit men. She still wasn't feeling quite right, but Martina had enough of her sense of humour left to find this mildly amusing.

She smiled half-heartedly. 'All right, then, Don Joey.'

Chapter Text

This had to be going down as one of the most horrible nights Joey had ever experienced- and he'd had some rough times in the past. He was still shaking with anger, Yizzel's mate's threat hanging over him. This isn't finished, he had said, and Joey knew full well that it wasn't. They'd be back, and soon- they wouldn't let him have any peace until they'd gotten the money. And then the next time they wanted something. And the next time after that. He was going to have to find a more permanent solution, instead of merely paying them off, or this would continue forever. Blackmail usually did the trick- got them off his back for a while, but what could he blackmail them with? They'd been right- he had nothing on them.

Martina posed another problem. He remembered the last time she'd come face to face with the Yizzel gang- she'd been furious enough with him to be talking about breaking it off, and though he'd calmed her down eventually, she'd made him promise there'd never be a repeat of the incident. She hadn't shown any anger as yet this time- but nor had she shown any emotion whatsoever, and that, somehow, was far, far worse. It wasn't like her to have nothing to say.

She sat still and silently in the passenger seat of the Jag, staring down at her lap and fiddling with a white piece of paper in her hands. Jack, Adrian and Shifty were all hyper after the night's excitement, rowdily relating the incident to each other despite having all been there, and arguing over details such as who was where when who did what, but even their constant racket didn't appear to penetrate the DHSS lady's consciousness.

Joey wondered momentarily if she was just biding her time, waiting until they were alone to unleash the full force of her rage, but every time he glanced over at her, she appeared completely enveloped in thought, an expression on her face which he had not yet categorised- had never seen before. Perhaps he'd finally succeeded in scarring her for life. Perhaps Yizzel and his mate had been the final straw, and she'd been damaged irreparably, fiery, sarcastic spirit crushed by her ordeal. The thought made Joey shudder and shut his eyes- then frantically swerve as he realised the Jag had drifted over to the wrong side of the road.

He pulled up outside Martina's apartment building with a feeling of dread. He didn't know exactly what was going to happen when he talked to her, but he could tell it wasn't going to be pleasant.

'Adrian,' he said, craning his neck around to get a look at the back seat, 'take the car back. I'll meet you at home later- I need to talk to Martina.'

The three of them immediately shut up, staring gormlessly at Joey.

'T-take…the car back?' Adrian looked at the car keys his brother had pressed into his hand as if he'd just been entrusted with the crown jewels. 'You want me to…actually drive your Jaguar? Why me?'

'Yeah,' Jack piped up, 'I'm older. Why don't I get to take the Jag back?'

Joey rolled his eyes. 'Because of the three of you, Adrian is the best driver, the most responsible, and,' he shot a meaningful look at Shifty, 'the least likely to smash it up. It's my car, I say Adrian's drivin', and that's me final word, okay?'

Jack made a face like a bulldog. Adrian just went on staring at the keys, wonder on his face at being entrusted with something so precious.

'That's settled, then, is it?' Joey asked. Jack went on fuming and Adrian continued to daydream. The eldest Boswell sighed.

'Good to know you're all so eager to pay attention to me,' he muttered, climbing out the car and leaving them to it. Martina followed suit, and he took hold of her arm, steering her a fair distance away from the Jaguar, trying not to look as it drove off in case he had a panic attack at the thought of his brothers in charge of his most beloved possession.

Now what did he do? What did he say to her? There was nothing he could utter that could erase this evening, and Joey felt a heavy, sinking sensation of having let her down, of having done the wrong thing. What had he been thinking, getting involved with her? There had always been risks, always been the potential of something going drastically wrong and one or both of them getting hurt, but Joey had been selfish enough to think that he could, on his own, manage to abolish all those risks and make it work, or that perhaps fortune would be on his side and they'd just be lucky enough never to have anything go wrong. If he were truly responsible he'd stop all this now. He'd finish it, he'd release her, and then neither Yizzel's mate nor any other Boswell enemies lurking in the woodwork could ever hurt her, and as a bonus she wouldn't have to worry about the ethical implications of being with someone who undermined everything she stood for in a professional capacity, who made her job as difficult as could be. It would all be so much easier for her. She'd meet someone better for her eventually, more suited.

It would be so simple to just do that, such a good decision, had he not loved her.

But he did. He loved her, so help him, and the thought of seeing her go off, live her life, do things without him hurt so badly that his internal organs twisted up. He couldn't just do that- it may have been the right thing, but he was only human, and he wanted her dreadfully. And it didn't matter how many good reasons there were for ending their relationship, so long as he still wanted her, still loved her, he'd cling on. He'd always been a fool like that. He'd lost one woman he loved when Roxy left him, and once he'd let her go that was it. No matter how many times they'd tried to repair their relationship after that, it was no use- it had been done already; it was irreparable.

He didn't want that to happen with Martina.

But he didn't want her to keep getting hurt either.

He didn't know what on earth he was going to do.

'I didn't mean for all that to happen,' he said at last. 'I really didn't.'

'I know,' she replied expressionlessly, gazing in his direction but not directly at him.

She really had been shaken up, Joey thought, and seeing her in this state just made him want to hold her, not let go until everything had somehow magically been fixed. He wanted more than anything to fix this, to make things go back to how they were, but a sad realisation was growing inside him that when they'd left Yizzel's mate's latest hideout, something between them had suddenly changed. It wasn't that he didn't care any less for her- or she him, he thought- he hoped. It was just that they'd reached an enormous stumbling block, and until it was removed they could never move beyond this point. Unless they both knew for certain that Martina would be safe, and that they could make this work in all circumstances, it never would again.

'I really am sorry,' he tried again, weakly, 'and I-'

She put a hand out to stop him. 'You've said that.'

'And do you…forgive me?'

'What for? It wasn't your fault.'

'Yeah, but…' Joey wrung his hands, 'if I had never gotten in with that lot in the first place then they never would have come after you, so in a way it is, really.'

'Hmm, I suppose.' She exhaled, and her shoulders heaved. 'But I knew what I signed up for. I knew from the beginning you were a bad lot.'

'A bad lot who cares about you.'

He couldn't believe what he was hearing, even though logically he knew he should have. The subtext of what she was saying was that she didn't trust him, had known all along not to. And he knew he'd done nothing to deserve her trust, but he still had to try and get it somehow.

'And I do,' he said, 'I do care about you, angel. If I could undo…'

'Joey, I know.' She folded her arms. 'You don't have ter keep apologisin' and repeatin' yerself.'

Joey fell back on the only other thing he could think of to say. 'Are you sure you're all right?'

'I'd be lyin' if I said I'd had worse- but I think I'll live.' She nodded at him, turned and headed for the door to her building.

'I'll walk up with you,' Joey said hastily, falling into step with her.

They said nothing. Martina wrestled with the lock on the front door, and neither of them said a word. They ascended the stairs and still neither of them spoke.

It was as she was fiddling with the key to her flat that Joey tried once again, getting a bit on the desperate side by now.

'Do you need me to stay with you?' he offered, 'just in case you were still worried about the-'

'I can take care of meself, you know!' she snapped, jamming the key so viciously into the door that it took her several attempts to properly turn it. She shoved her door open as though it had personally offended her, stepped into the doorway and then rounded on him. 'I've always managed perfectly well- that is, before you came along and complicated everything!'

Joey recoiled, stung. 'You are angry about this.'

'I'm not angry,' she said, though her voice betrayed her, 'I just-I just want some space. I want to be on my own for the time being.'

'How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?'

'Why does everything 'ave ter revolve around you? It's not about how many times you think you have to apologise! In case you didn't notice, I've 'ad rather a rough night- and I want to be left alone for a while!'

'Of course,' Joey said quietly. 'I understand, sweetheart.'

There was a pause. Joey made no move to leave, and Martina made none to shut the door. They stared through each other for a few moments, both deep in thought.

'Do you regret this?' Joey suddenly burst out. 'Do you regret being with me?'

He hadn't intended to ask that. He hadn't wanted to either- he was too fearful of her response.

'I-' Martina began, 'I don't know.'

Joey's heart sank right down through all seven floors of the building. If she didn't regret it, she wouldn't have hesitated to say no.

'I see,' he said.

'Go home, Joey,' said Martina, 'I'll phone you tomorrow.' And with that she shut the door, and Joey was left on his own in the empty hallway, with a long walk home ahead of him and a pain in his chest.

'Psst. Joey. Joey. Are you awake?'

Awake? Joey hadn't even gone to sleep. It had taken him nearly an hour to walk home last night- in his preoccupied state he forgot the way and got lost four times, and just to make a terrible cliché of a terrible night even worse, it had started raining too, and by the time he did get home everyone else was already in bed. He'd realised when he got to the kitchen that he was starving, not having had anything to eat since lunchtime, but also in no mood to prepare himself anything, so, hungry and depressed he'd dragged himself up the stairs to bed, and spent the night lying awake trying to take his mind off the fact that he was hungry and depressed.

Joey was sorely tempted to ignore Adrian, to pretend to be asleep for hours and hours and days and days, but he couldn't do that- not when he had a family that relied so heavily on him.

'Just a bit,' he muttered.

'I saw you come in,' Adrian whispered. 'What happened?'

'She…' Joey only got as far as the first word before he all but broke down. He shut his gob, grateful that he was facing away from Adrian's bed and his brother couldn't see his face.

'Did she bust up with you?'

'I don't know,' he said. 'I don't think so- but we're not all right. D'you know what I'm sayin'?'

'Carmen and I were never all right to begin with,' said Adrian, 'but I think I understand what you mean.' Joey heard the springs squeak as Adrian shifted himself into a sitting position.

'But you can't really blame her for being upset, can you? She did get abducted by gangsters last night- that's enough to put anyone off. At least she's goin' off you for that, not because you're no good at it, like me…with Carmen…'

There he went again. Somehow, whenever Joey wanted to talk about his feelings to one of his siblings, he always ended up listening to their miseries instead. And all this talk about 'going off' him hadn't exactly comforted him either.

'Thanks, son,' Joey muttered through his teeth. 'You're a real help, you know that?'

He shut his eyes again, but it was no good- it was light now, and even if it had been, he and sleep were on separate pages at the moment. He sat up reluctantly, rubbing his eyes even though he hadn't shut them and glancing round the room. Jack was still snoring his head off, as usual, but the other bed was empty.

'Adrian- where's Billy?'

Adrian blinked. 'I don't know. He wasn't here when we got back.'

'Probably sulkin' somewhere because we didn't take him along yesterday,' Joey yawned. 'He'll be back as soon as he smells the breakfast.'

'I'm movin' to Julie's!' The front door was flung open dramatically and Billy stomped through the parlour, giving the family dirty looks, and up the stairs. The four Boswells on the sofa ignored him.

Joey stole a glance at Aveline, who'd been hoarding the phone for a good three quarters of an hour at least. She was crossing her legs and fluttering her lashes as she talked, regardless of the fact that a) she was on the phone and thus such flirtation would not be noticed and b) she was talking to her husband anyway. The mainstay of her conversation seemed to follow a looped pattern of 'I miss you too, Oswald…yes it is, Oswald…I'm comin' home today, Oswald…you'll like how I've done me hair today, Oswald…'

Well, at least she was happy again, anyway. One down, Billy to go, and then he could devote all his time and energy to his own problem. He tried not to think about the fact that every minute Aveline spent nattering was a minute Martina might be trying to call and not be able to get through. His mobile sat on the coffee table in front of him, just in case she tried that instead, but it remained silent, and he dared not pick it up and phone her in case Nellie overheard him from the kitchen. The last thing he needed now was for his Mam to be asking questions when everything was going so wrong.

Jack pulled a magazine out from the side of the sofa and began flicking through it. The rustling paper noise aggravated the headache building in Joey's temples.

'I mean it! I'm movin'!' Billy was back, dragging an overstuffed bag of clothes behind him.

'Good luck, son, good to know you've patched things up with 'er,' Jack said without looking up.

Billy looked incensed. 'I'm not goin' 'cause o' Julie! I'm goin' 'cause of all you lot! You never listen to a word I say in this house, you never tell me anythin'- I feel retardant!'

'You mean redundant, Billy,' Joey corrected.

'Yeah. That an' all. Well, this is the end. Good-bye!' and with that he stomped out of the house, making sure to slam the door.

'Yeah, well, now that little drama's been resolved I'd better be off,' said Jack, getting to his feet. 'I've bought this amazin' painting- looks genuine! It's brilliant what these bastards can do. Reckon I'll fetch a good sum for it.' He turned to Adrian. 'Are you comin', or do you have more little verses to write?'

'Actually, today I'm in a painting mood myself,' said Adrian. 'I thought I might go and sketch that fountain near the bank.'

'Suit yourself,' Jack groaned, and then hesitated, his eyes lighting up. 'Are your paintings any good?'

'Well,' Adrian smiled coyly, 'I like to think I've captured something…'

'Nah, nah, I mean do they look like the things they're meant to?'

'Well, yes. As a matter of fact they do.' Adrian wasn't normally one to boast, but Joey could tell he was enjoying this. It wasn't every day someone in the family seemed to take genuine interest in his work. Joey could also tell, however, what was coming next.

'D'you think you could draw things that looked….like other paintings?'

Oh, yes. Joey had seen that coming. Adrian still looked a tad perplexed.

'Why would I want to draw things that looked like other paintings? I want to develop me own style!'

'Yeah, but could you do it?'

'Well, I suppose so, but…'

'Great!' Jack did a happy little jump, swinging his arms, before bouncing onto the sofa beside his brother. 'With your creative skills and my negotiatin' skills, we could go into business together, Adrian! Think about it- you could make copies of valuable paintings and I could flog 'em!' Jack's eyes crinkled as he smiled excitedly. 'We'll be rich!'

Adrian stared at his brother with jaw-dropping horror. 'Are you suggesting we make and sell counterfeit art?'

'Yeah!' Jack rubbed his hands in gleeful anticipation. 'Isn't it great?'

'No, it's not!' Adrian was outraged. 'Are you, my own brother, seriously suggesting that I should cheapen my ambition by using it to deceive people?'

'Yeah!'

'I don't believe you! Don't you have a shred of decency? I have an honest, noble dream, and you want to exploit it for profit! My self-esteem is 'angin' by a thread, I tell you! 'Angin' by a thread!'

'Oh, shut up about yer threads!' Jack cried. 'You've got more threads to hang from than a marionette!'

'Don't you two realise I am on the phone?' Aveline demanded in a tremendously posh voice.

'You've been on that phone for an hour!' Adrian turned on her, 'oh, Heaven forbid anyone else wanted to use it! Haven't you got a home to go to? Go and use Oswald's phone, and then you won't have to hear us!'

And a squabble erupted between the three of them. Joey put his head in his hands.

'I'm movin' back home!' a fourth voice joined in the fray, and Jack, Adrian and Aveline stopped arguing as Billy stormed back into the house, his bag open and trailing clothes all over the floor.

'That didn't last long,' commented Jack.

'Yeah, well you try livin' with Julie! She's so demanding! She nags at me constantly- if I didn't have an actual baby daughter in that 'ouse I'd blow it up with 'er in it!' he was lugging his bag back up the stairs when Joey's mobile exploded into life.

Joey was off the sofa like a shot, snatching it up and running outside to answer it on his own.

'Hello, yes?' he said hopefully.

'I said I'd phone, didn't I?' came a familiar voice, and Joey was both relieved and anxious to hear it.

'You did, yeah.' There was an awkward pause. 'Great.'

Another awkward pause. 'How are you?' Joey asked.

'Oh, fine,' Martina replied. 'How are things your end?'

'Well, you know. The usual. Family crises, rows…' he laid out a little bait to see if she'd take it, '…counterfeit art…'

'Oh. That's good then.'

Joey shook his head sadly. It was as sure a sign as any that things weren't going well between them if she wasn't even going to take a perfectly good piece of ammunition like that and turn it into a jab about the Boswells defrauding the Social Security.

He didn't know what to say after that. 'How…how are you feelin', then?'

'You've already asked how I am.'

'Yeah, but, er…I forgot what you said.'

'The answer was 'fine'.'

'Oh. Right, then.'

This was dreadful. Just one day ago he'd had no end of things to say to her- they'd been at the point where they'd have been on the phone 'til gone midnight and rung off only when they realised just how late it was. Now the best Joey could come up with was 'how are you?'- and he'd used that one up twice. How could the dynamic between them change so quickly? He had to settle this up. He just had to.

'Look, I really need to see you,' he said, knowing as he did how pathetic and whiny he sounded. 'I need to see you in person- to talk to you.'

Silence on the other end, and he was worried she might have hung up, except for the fact that he hadn't heard a dial tone. How long did it take to say yes or no?

'Are you at work?' he pressed. ' 'Cause I can be down the DHSS in five minutes…'

'No, I'm- I'm not at work.'

Joey frowned. 'Why not?'

'I took the day off- after last night and all…'

'And all the times I asked you to skive off work, and you never did…' he was hoping to tease out a laugh, but he didn't get one. 'Where are you, then? At home?'

'No.'

Very informative. She wasn't making this easy.

'Sweetheart, please…'

'I can't see you today, Joey. I've got somethin' I have to do. Can you come down tomorrow?'

'Tomorrow- yeah- course,' he could only get a disjointed sentence in, blood rushing about his temples so fast if it'd been Shifty it would have gone through three walls by now. She was letting him see her again- so she hadn't finished with him after all. Then again, she might want to tell him it was over- and why wait til tomorrow? What did she have to do that was so important she was willing to put this discussion off? He wanted to ask her all this, but found he couldn't quite shape a substantial question.

'Well, then,' he said. 'See you tomorrow.'

'Yeah, see yer. Oh, and Joey?'

Joey stayed his phone, which he'd been about to bring away from his ear. 'Yes, sweetheart?'

'I…I really do…' he heard her swallow, and the phrase suddenly changed direction. 'I, er, I found somethin'.'

Joey shut his eyes. She couldn't bring herself to tell him she loved him anymore. 'What did you find?'

'I'll show you tomorrow.'

'Oh. Okay.' He hadn't a clue what that was about. He'd have to wait 'til tomorrow, he supposed. Before then, he had plenty to settle up himself. Before he saw Martina again, he was determined he would have put this Yizzel business behind him for good- him, the family and her- and he was going to make her see, beyond even a shadow of a doubt, that she could trust him wholeheartedly. When Joey first went down to the DHSS to declare his intentions, he knew even then that it would be reasonable to expect a no- that he didn't deserve her. This time he was going to make sure he bloody well did.

Chapter Text

You be my guardian angel and I'll be yours.

It was odd that, of all the things Joey had ever said to her, at this particular moment it was that one that sprang to Martina's mind. Especially after tonight, when it was because of her 'guardian angel' that she'd wound up in such trouble in the first place.

Joey had clearly felt incredibly guilty about what had happened, appearing over-eager, even desperate to express this guilt to her. Martina thought back to all the times when she'd sat behind her partition in the DHSS, vowing that she'd relish the day when he came crawling to her, begging her to forgive him for all the misery he'd ever put her through, all the money he'd scammed, all the shady dealings he was undoubtedly doing. In her fantasy it had been gloriously satisfying watching him grovel, knowing she had that sort of power over him.

In real life it wasn't that wonderful at all. It depressed her. It sickened her. She didn't want to hear him say he was sorry a hundred times over. She didn't want him to follow her about, offering to do things for her in some misguided hope that he could erase the evening's events and make them go back to the way they were. That wasn't the Joey Boswell she knew, and the more this version manifested itself, the angrier she became, finally shouting at him that she wanted him to leave her alone.

He'd looked more hurt than she'd ever seen him, and for a moment part of her wanted to relent, to tell him that of course she forgave him. But she couldn't do that. She needed to have a serious think about where all this was going, about what was likely to happen to her if she stayed. Of course, she'd been aware right from the start that if she was looking for someone one hundred percent honest, trustworthy and law-abiding, she was looking in the wrong place. But she hadn't really, properly thought it through- it had all happened so fast- the incident with Mister Wilson, the circumstances that had led to them winding up together- it had all been rushed. She'd assumed that there'd be no harm in trying, anyway, ironing out all the problems as they went along, but instead, she'd merely skated around them, and days had turned into months, and she still didn't know what Joey did, or how often he got involved with crooks like Yizzel's mate, or anything.

And one thing was starting to become clear: she probably wouldn't ever know.

And how could she trust someone she'd never fully know?

And how could she stay if she didn't trust him?

She shut the front door and collapsed onto her sofa with a sigh, folding her arms tightly and fighting back tears. Martina was not going to let herself cry- not that she had every reason to. The stress of what she'd been through alone would give her license to sob, not to mention all the turmoil dancing round her head regarding Joey and what to do about him, but she still wasn't going to. It wouldn't get her anywhere, and she had a lot of thinking to do- she couldn't afford to waste valuable energy on self-pity.

For starters, she tried to sift through all her feelings, all her thoughts, and all the facts of the situation, sorting them into the categories leave Joey and keep Joey, but for every reason she found for one option, there was an equally important one for the other, and so she couldn't make up her mind either way.

I can't trust him…but I love him. He can be a good person…but he's not. He's a Boswell. What about Roxy? But what about Shifty?

The truth of the matter was, though, she didn't want to leave him. After all had been said and done, after all the times he'd annoyed her in the DHSS and all the times he'd been kind to her both, after everything, shady dealings and all, she still loved him painfully.

Be reasonable, she told herself sternly. That's not enough. I have to be realistic about this. I can't go on like this- gettin' tangled up in all these Boswell messes with criminals and gangsters and ransoms. It's not right. I couldn't live like that.

She sat there miserably for a while, hating herself and hating Joey and hating the whole situation. If only there was some simple way out of this problem- if something could just happen so she could know once and for all that she was safe with Joey, that the majority of what he was doing was for good, then it wouldn't matter so much. It hadn't mattered to her as much when all she thought he was doing was providing for his family, albeit over-providing for them- that she could live with. It was when you started adding in threats and kidnappings and the sorts of things that shouldn't exist in the real world that the idea of a sturdy relationship fell to pieces.

Martina thought back to when this business had all begun- when Joey had literally pulled her out of harm's way- out of the path of drunken, aggressive Mr. Wilson and into his Jaguar. He really had been like a guardian angel that night, on hand when she needed him most, and in spite of herself she'd felt safe with him, felt he was there to take care of her.

But he couldn't be taking care of her all that well if his own family vendettas were now putting her at risk.

She was still agonising over this when she fell asleep, still dressed and in an uncomfortable position on the sofa, an ache in her heart and one stray tear on her face.

It wasn't either a nightmare or a great revelation, come to her in her sleep, that woke Martina up. It was, in fact, a rather ordinary bout of pins and needles- she'd lost all feeling in her foot after putting her whole weight on it. Martina sat up with a groan, rubbing her eyes and shaking her foot to bring the feeling back. It was still dark- couldn't have been more than an hour or two at best since she'd drifted off, her eyes were dry and sore, and there was something sharp in her pocket digging into her hip. She stood up, reaching into her coat to remove the offending object.

It was small and flat, and for a moment she couldn't quite identify it in her sleep-deprived state. Stumbling across the room, Martina flicked the light switch, blinking rapidly 'til the suddenly bright light stopped blinding her. She squinted down at the card in her hand.

And at once Martina was assaulted with a rush of adrenaline, and she didn't feel sleep-deprived or anxious at all. It was the card she'd taken from Yizzel's mate. And looking at it now, the smallest inkling of an idea began to form inside her. Of course, it was a preposterous idea, the sort of idea the Boswells would probably find wonderful but she, as a far more rational being, would normally scoff at. It might not even work- because there was no guarantee that what she'd found was actually what she thought it was.

But if it did work, and this card was what she thought it was, then she might just have a solution to all her problems.

Well, perhaps not all of them- but the most important one, anyway.

Because if the name and address on this card meant what she assumed they did, then she just might be able to fix this for both of them. If she wasn't mistaken, then this card could possibly remove the threat of Yizzel and his mate from Joey's life- and, by extension, from hers. And if they were gone, if all the more dangerous of Joey's dodgy dealings were eliminated, then she could live with what was left. They could be all right again- like they were before, at the beginning. Or, if she was going to be pessimistic, they could at least be better, have more of a chance of making it work between them again.

She sat down, reading and rereading it, wondering perhaps if she should phone Joey now, tell him. He would probably have a better idea of what to do with the valuable information she'd just discovered, and after all, it was he and his family who were always getting involved with Yizzel and his mate- he should probably have a hand in this.

Then again, the card might be totally misleading, and the valuable information not so valuable after all, and then this would have all been for nothing. She'd have to make certain that what she was seeing and what she was imagining matched up before she told Joey.

And another part of her, a small, wicked part of her didn't want to tell Joey for entirely different reasons. Ever since their relationship started he'd been the one fighting the battles, getting her out of sticky spots of trouble, saving her from harm. Oh, it wasn't that she didn't like that, didn't find the idea of a knight in shining leather rather on the romantic side, but Martina had always been able to take care of herself, and so she'd always felt just the smallest twinge of annoyance that she always ended up relegated to the damsel in distress. Perhaps, though she hadn't realised it, this was part of the reason she'd been having doubts about their relationship, though, being such a petty reason, she'd hidden it behind more important ones to do with trust and a reliable, safe future.

But it was true- she did savour the idea of being able to handle something on her own, prove- to Joey, to the thugs that thought they could use her as an easy hostage, to the people in the DHSS who thought threats would work on her, to everyone that she was well and truly able to take care of herself. Better than that, she'd be able to prove she was perfectly capable of handling anything anyone threw her way, and thus cement her reputation as a person not to be trifled with.

You be my guardian angel and I'll be yours.

She let a smile creep across her face. It was her turn to do some guardian angel-ing now- her turn to get him out of something, instead of it being the other way round. He'd like that. And at the same time, his ego would probably deflate significantly.

There were so many holes in the plan she was putting together, but if she pulled it off, she would succeed both in saving her relationship with Joey and exacting on him a little bit of the revenge she'd been planning since the day he set foot in the DHSS.

The first thing Martina did, when it became light enough to be considered daytime, was call in sick from work. She was granted the day off immediately- over nine years of diligence, punctuality and never missing so much as an hour of work had all piled up towards a reputation of infallible honesty, and no-one even questioned her excuse. That taken care of, she put the card in front of her on the coffee table, folded her hands and wondered how to proceed.

If it had been up to Joey, he would have gone straight to the address on the card and made a dramatic scene, preferably with a few backup Boswells to add extra menace. That wasn't exactly her style. For one thing, she wanted to do a little checking up first, make sure her hunch was absolutely right. And for another, unlike some people she could talk about, she didn't have a little mafia to stand behind her and look menacing.

Along with the name, title and address, the card also bore a telephone number, and Martina reasoned that calling that number would be the first logical step. Not from here, though. It wasn't logical, but she was still paranoid enough to think that people who spent their lives in criminal activity might have some way of tracing it back to her, and then they could stop her before she'd put her not-so-well-crafted plan into action.

It was this paranoia that found her in a public phone box half an hour later, the receiver pressed against her ear and her hand poised over the buttons. She'd been dithering for a good ten minutes, knowing that the only way forward was to do this, and yet still wanting just a bit more time to panic over it, put it off for just a few more seconds.

What am I doing? I'm not cut out for things like this. I'm just Martina from the DHSS- the only thing I should be thinkin' of doin' is sitting in my plastic box handing out forms. I'm not a Boswell. I'm not Joey. I shouldn't be tryin' to act like 'im.

And then, picking up on Joey's name in her train of thought… I said I'd call him. Maybe I should do that instead. That'd give me a bit more time.

And before she could try and talk herself back into doing the task she'd come to do in the first place, she'd dialled Joey's number instead and was waiting with fingers crossed for him to pick up.

He answered after three rings. 'Hello, yes?'

No greetings. He didn't sound himself at all- not a vestige of cheer or pseudo-charm, just sad, broken and yet somehow feebly hopeful.

'I said I'd phone, didn't I?' It wasn't her intention, but Martina had managed to make it sound like she was completing a chore, and she regretted giving that impression bitterly. He may have sounded off, but hearing his voice still did things to Martina's heart. The sooner they could smooth things over the better.

'You did, yeah. Great.' Detached. Unenthusiastic. She'd hurt him, implying that she regretted their relationship. There were so many things she wanted to say now- reassuring things, let's pretend this didn't happen things. But merely forgetting what happened would be the easy way out, and she wanted to fix this properly.

'How are you?'

'Oh, fine,' Martina lied, 'how're things your end?'

'Well, you know, the usual…' he rattled off a few basic details, but she didn't hear them. Her mind had gone wandering, straying back towards the business card in her pocket.

I have to call that number. I can't put it off anymore- I can't leave things like this.

Martina realised Joey had stopped speaking, and was now expecting a response. 'Oh, that-that's good then.' Of course, he could have just told her that his entire family died in a nuclear blast and she wouldn't have known, but she hadn't been listening- she had more important things on her mind- and she had to give him some input.

They stumbled around a shallow pond of conversation for another minute or so, most of which was a repeat of what had already been said. Martina was about to write the whole phone call off as a hopeless case, had almost made up her mind to simply hang up here and now and try talking to him again when there was more of a point, when Joey's voice suddenly cracked.

'I really need to see you.' He sounded practically in tears, and Martina clenched her fist so tightly her nails dug into her palm. People spoke to her with a sob in her voice on a multiple-times-a-day basis, and she never so much as batted an eyelid- in fact, in normal circumstances, it made her less likely to give them what they wanted, and in Boswell circumstances, made her want to hurl something at the offending speaker's head. But Joey's voice now, so desperate, so hopeless, made her want to cry herself. She held the receiver away for a moment, allowed herself a brief period to put her head in her hands, breathe deeply until the feeling had been suppressed.

'Are you at work? 'Cause I can be down the DHSS in five minutes…'

No, Joey, don't. Not yet. It's not finished yet.

'I'm not at work.' That part was true at least, and she had a reasonable excuse. 'I took the day off- after last night and all.' Shock or some sort of post-traumatic stress seemed believable.

'And all the times I asked you to skive off work…'

Martina got halfway to a smile, but the joke didn't sound genuine. It was far too forced- a far cry from Joey's natural wit, and therefore not worth much thought.

'Where are you, then? At home?'

'No…' Martina glanced around at the phone box, fiddling with the collar of her shirt. Now that was more ironic- and a far better joke than Joey's attempt. He was always the one making excuses to her, trying to convince her that his motives for wanting more money were innocent, and now she was trying to think of a plausible excuse to give to him.

'Sweetheart, please.'

'I can't. I can't see you today, Joey. I've got something I have to do.' And no pressure, but I don't think I can ever see you again, properly, unless I do it.

And she was going to do it now, today. Just to make sure of this, she told Joey she would see him tomorrow, effectively sealing the deadline.

'Oh, and Joey?'

End on a note of hope, that's what she had decided to do. Give him some little fragment of encouragement- make sure she hadn't pushed him away too much. A reaffirming of the fact that she cared for him would do the trick.

'I really do…' the words stuck in her throat. What was wrong with her? She did still love him- of that she was quite sure. But she couldn't say it. Not now. Not yet. 'I found something.'

Terrible. Pathetic. Cowardly. But at least, if nothing else, it was another push to get on with her business. She wasn't going to tell Joey just exactly what she had found, or what it might mean- she had never been one for getting people's hopes up when there was a distinct possibility of dashing them- but perhaps if she didn't succeed, she could pass it onto him.

'I'll show you tomorrow.'

Martina held the phone to her ear for a few moments after Joey said his goodbyes, waiting for the dial tone.

'I really do love you,' she said into the empty receiver, and then put it down.

Martina breathed out, crossed and uncrossed her fingers, crossed and uncrossed her legs, fiddled with her hair. She probably had five minutes left to rehearse what to say, work out just how she wanted to play this and then that was it- the real thing, not a drill. The phone call she'd made had gone surprisingly well- she'd gotten through first to a secretary, then asked for the name on the business card and been put through.

And Yizzel's mate had answered straight away.

Gotcha.

Oh, if only Joey knew about this, she'd found herself thinking. If only he knew what the nightmarish thug did, who he actually was. And that name, too- there'd be a riot when she told him tomorrow.

She'd hung up without speaking and smirked to herself. It was just too perfect. Boy, was this going to be fun. Martina had never felt so smug- it was the sort of thing she'd always daydreamed about doing- so many of her clients in the DHSS would come in pleading poverty, and she'd just know they were lying. The sorts of things they did on the side were always alluded to, but despite her threats that she knew and/or could find out everything, very rarely did the truth fully come to light, and she had to content herself with imagining that she'd uncovered something astounding.

She really had, now. And she had done it all on her own.

It felt, at this moment, that her life was just about complete.

Or, rather, it would be once she finished what she'd started. She'd dialled the number again, gotten the secretary and made an appointment to see the not-so-nameless-anymore mate of Yizzel's.

And now here she was, waiting with a mix of nervous anticipation and uncontainable excitement churning together inside her guts. After so many years of everyone giving her stick, treading her down, hurting her and leaving her to defend herself only by word of mouth, she was finally going to get her own back on someone. It was the sort of moment she felt she'd rather like to bask in, that she'd celebrate on its anniversary with champagne every year (because, she thought with a shudder, her life was so pathetic that this genuinely would be one of her greatest achievements), but at the same time, if she messed this up, if something went wrong, it would not only mean she'd compromised her own safety, but she would have royally messed up the lives of the Boswells as well- because she was quite sure that if she left any loopholes in this for Yizzel's mate to get out unscathed, he would go after them with a vengeance.

She bit her lip. Perhaps this was the sort of problem Joey faced on a daily basis- having to resort to dastardly measures to achieve his ends, all the while worrying about others in his care and what the implication might be for them. In one frightening moment she had suddenly experienced insight into life through Joey Boswell's eyes- was actually starting to think like him, feel the way he did about life.

She blinked and snapped out of it just as suddenly, the gleaming moment of insight lurching away and leaving her back in her seat, outside an office in a building she'd never been in before, about to attempt something she probably shouldn't and wondering what on earth she thought she was doing.

A muffled noise came from somewhere beside her, and Martina realised the secretary had called her name. She hastily dragged her composure back together, smoothed out her best frosty-faced DHSS lady mask and stood up.

'He'll see you now.' She gestured to a door, and Martina walked through it, bracing herself as she stepped across the threshold.

And there he was, large as life, absence of his usual hat and coat diminishing his aura of menace, but Yizzel's mate just the same. He was bent over his desk, thoroughly engaged in something else, completely unaware of her presence. Martina glanced around the room, half expecting Yizzel to pop out from inside a filing cabinet, but nothing of the sort happened. They were alone.

She cleared her throat quietly, and then said his name slowly and clearly, enunciating each syllable carefully and suppressing her urge to laugh at its ridiculousness.

'Yes, that's me- what can I do for-' Yizzel's mate stopped abruptly, head raised halfway, a look of total disbelief in his eyes as he saw her there, standing quite calmly in front of him, a self-satisfied smirk playing about her features.

'You.'

'Mmhmm.' Martina clicked her tongue, turning her little card- her weapon- around slowly in her fingers. 'No Yizzel 'ere today?'

'What are you doin' here?' he demanded.

'Well,' Martina shrugged, trying to sound blasé, 'you said it wasn't finished last night, didn't you? And you were right.'

'How did you know I was here?' At least Yizzel's mate had more intuition than to think she'd just stumbled upon him by chance. Another thought dawned on him. 'How much do you know?'

Oh, only his name, what he did for a living, and that, coupled with the fact that she knew what he got up to on the side with Yizzel as well, meant she could put him in a few rather awkward positions if she wanted to. If his employers knew what he did outside of hours, it could put both his job and his reputation on the line- not to mention what would happen to him should the police find out- and they could well be able to track him down now, now that she'd uncovered a name to go with his face. And, on the other side of the spectrum, his reputation as a crook could suffer, should his colleagues know about this job. It wasn't exactly the sort of thing a brilliant-minded thug would be proud of- in fact, it was more the sort of thing that might get him beaten up in the circles in which he moved. She relayed all this to him with no small degree of relish, watching his face turn whiter and whiter as she concisely lay each of these cards on the table.

When she had finished, she stood back, smiling and allowing him ample time to uncomfortably sift through everything she'd just told him and compose his response. He'd probably have counterarguments for some of her points- she wasn't sure of all the information herself, especially the conclusions she'd come to regarding the fate of his reputation, and she readied herself, trying to gear up her brain to debate whatever he threw her way next.

'Did Joey put you up to this?' was what he came up with.

'Give me a bit o' credit!' Martina said, suddenly indignant. 'I came up with this all on me own. You provided the leads yerself.' And she held up the card for him to see.

'But-how-where-'

'You really need ter tidy up yer 'ideout a bit more,' she said, riding the wave of smugness that had been building inside her.

Yizzel's mate's hands balled into fists, and he shook one at her. 'You tell a single soul about any o' this and you're dead, d'you hear?'

Ah, a threat. She was used to those. 'You assume I 'aven't told anyone already.' She hadn't, of course, but Martina felt a bluff fit this situation very nicely. Not only that, she was planning on telling Joey, so really, it was sort of true, just in the wrong order.

He was on his feet now, face going from white to red. 'Who, the Boswells? They can soon be taken down, don't you fret about that, sweetheart!'

'I do know other people besides the Boswells, you know! Now listen 'ere,' she leaned forward, resting her hands on the desk as she stared him down, all traces of superiority or amusement in her tone washed away in favour of a more menacing approach, 'you don't know who I've told, and I've no intention of tellin' yer. But if anythin' 'appens ter me, what I know about you goes either to your boss, the police or yer mates, dependin' on which of me friends blurts it out first.'

Yizzel's mate said nothing. He just glowered at her, grinding his teeth.

'And the same goes fer the Boswells. If you give Joey any grief- or any of 'is immediate family, I will find out, and the same conditions apply. Yer little game's up.'

Well I never, Martina thought to herself as she said this, I'm defendin' the Boswells. Actually tryin' to protect them. If only the people at work could see me now. They'd never recognise me!

'You're,' said Yizzel's mate, forcing the words out through his tightly locked teeth, 'bluffing.'

He had her there, but there was no need for him to actually know that. She raised her eyebrows. 'Can you afford ter take that risk?'

'You don't miss a trick, do you?'

'I've worked in the DHSS for nearly ten years. I've got a degree in not missin' a trick.'

Yizzel's mate scowled, slumping down into his chair and folding his arms. 'What about if one of the Boswells owes me money? What if one of 'em makes me write off another car? What then? If you're expecting me to sit back and do nothing, while they're bleedin' me dry, you've got another thing coming!'

'Why not? I've been doin' it for years.'

Another point to me. She'd have a word with Joey, though, about warning his family not to keep crossing Yizzel and his mate's paths. Just to be on the safe side.

The man didn't speak for a while, just angrily flung papers around on his desk in the guise of sorting through them, and deliberately not looking at her.

'That's settled then, is it?' she demanded. No response.

'I said,' Martina growled, 'that's settled then, is it?'

She saw his fist clench around a pen. 'Got no choice but to agree, have I?'

Martina almost wished Yizzel were there to say 'yeah, got no choice.' That would about make this incident perfect.

'You know, you 'aven't quite got the same touch without yer boyfriend,' she observed, delighting in the way he riled up when she referred to Yizzel in those words, ' 'aven't really got the edge without 'im repeatin' your words for dramatic emphasis.'

She smiled sweetly, pocketing her card in full view of him, just to rub it in that she had the information that could ruin him. 'I'll see meself out.'

'You're a very clever woman- you know that?'

Martina paused, halfway to the door.

'If you hadn't spent the last twenty minutes single-handedly trashing all my accomplishments- and if you didn't belong to the great Joey Boswell, I'd snap you up quick.'

'Oh, I don't belong to Joey Boswell,' Martina said, drawing herself up to her full height. ' 'e belongs to me.' With a curt nod, she opened the door. 'And don't forget, any grief and you know what I'll do.'

And on that note she sauntered out into the corridor, running on a high, adrenaline going full-steam. She couldn't believe she had just done that. She couldn't believe that she, Martina, disillusioned DHSS lady extraordinaire, had just taken part in anything so ruthless, so devious, so completely unreal. But she had. She'd done it. And she was extremely proud of herself.

How's THAT for 'guardian angel', Mister Boswell? She thought. You'll be mine, I'll be yours, eh?

As she left the building Martina suddenly wondered why she hadn't just told the police about Yizzel's mate's double life. It would have been the most logical thing to do- Joey and his brothers were all witnesses to her abduction, and she was sure there'd be other shady doings that it wouldn't take the authorities long to uncover. And it would have been a far more noble, legal, straight-and-narrow style step to have taken in the first place. But almost instantly after this thought, another followed it- one so shocking in its bluntness that it almost made her stagger and think what have I become?

It just hadn't occurred to her.

It was the simplest thing, the right thing, really, and yet she'd gone the long way round and woven a whole intricate string of blackmail instead. And enjoyed it, too.

Oh, Joey Boswell had a lot to answer for.

Chapter Text

'You look like a broken man.'

'Very perceptive of you, Shifty,' Joey said, not looking at his cousin, pretending to drink his tea even though it had gone cold. He hadn't wanted it in the first place, but Adrian, still grovelling and thinking Joey's problems were still somehow partially his fault, had made it for him, and he didn't have the heart to push the cup away.

'I've been there, you see.'

'I'm sure you have.' Joey didn't want to hear it now, didn't want to hear whatever Shifty's excuse for a sob-story was.

Sob-story. He'd stolen that expression from Martina. The thought almost brought on a new round of fresh, raw angst, and he struggled for a few moments to keep such an onslaught bottled up. He finally lost the internal battle, putting his head in his hands.

He'd had such a good plan, he'd thought. Well, actually, it wasn't a plan at all, really- to have a plan you had to actually know what you were doing- but he'd had a good idea anyhow. If he could somehow get the Yizzel situation cleared up, get them off Martina's back, not to mention his family's backs as well, and then also find some way of proving to Martina that he was decent and trustworthy and deserving of her love, then everything would be all right. He'd made a vow to do both these things at about eleven this morning.

It was now six in the evening and he'd accomplished neither. Trouble was, Joey didn't know how to get the Yizzel situation cleared up. He'd hoped to find something on them, perhaps, blackmail them into leaving him alone- that's how those sorts communicated best- but he had nothing, and knew no-one who could help him out in that department. So bribery, then. No, that wouldn't work. The more money he gave, the more they'd want, and that was no way to live your life, constantly trying to appease someone in the hopes they wouldn't hurt you.

So he had nothing there, then. Nothing at all. In a fit of desperation he'd driven around the city for three hours, waiting with the engine running outside every place he'd ever seen Yizzel and his mate before, in the hopeless hope that they might come out, that they might see him, that he might plead with them to come to some sort of arrangement. But hours passed and they never came, and Joey found himself returning to headquarters to come up with something else.

And, what was perhaps even worse than that, he didn't know how to prove he was deserving of her love. What could he possibly do? Tell her how he earned his money? He didn't even tell his mother that, and besides, it was an essential part of the Joey Boswell image to be enigmatic. If it meant keeping Martina, he thought for a brief period, it might be worth it, though, to lose that air of secrecy, but then again Martina had already said she knew what sort of person he was, and no, it just wouldn't do at all, she must take him as he was, enigmas and all. And anyway, what he was doing wasn't all that dreadful. Not from a legal standpoint, that was, if you followed the law exactly to the letter. It was more one of those loophole sort of things.

That's not the point, though, son! It's not the point and you know it! It doesn't matter what it is you do, it's the fact that she doesn't trust you! He raked a hand through his hair. She doesn't trust me. She thinks this is a mistake- I know she does. She said she didn't know-she could have said she didn't regret it but she didn't, she said she didn't know…

It wasn't the job, Joey concluded. She could trust him and not know about what he did- she would just be trusting that what he did wasn't something dangerous or unsanitary. She would be trusting that he really did care, that he would look after her- that whatever he did, and whatever he chose to tell her or whatever he chose to keep from her was the right decision to have made. She would be trusting that he and she, him and her, the two of them were right.

But she didn't. And he didn't know what he could do to rectify that.

He'd given so much of himself to her- showered as much love and affection as he could, drowned her in sentiment, but at the same time been careful never to go too far, to make his affection insincere. He'd told her everything he felt and thought, he'd told her about his past, about experiences which shaped him for better or worse, so that she knew exactly what went on in his head. But it still wasn't enough.

He'd promised her he'd keep her safe. And he hadn't. And what's more, he couldn't. That was where he'd gone wrong. Joey realised with a sinking feeling that this was the same core reason he'd lost Roxy. He'd put it to Martina like this: 'me couldn't keep the promises Joey Boswell made.' They'd been different promises, but the same idea was there. He'd promised to look after her, be her guardian angel, make sure no harm would come to her- and not only had he not done that, he actually couldn't do it. He couldn't stop Yizzel and his mate coming after her; he didn't have the knowhow. He could bail her out every time, get her back to safety, but he could never keep her permanently in it.

And that's why, he concluded with a miserable shudder, he didn't deserve her. He still thought too much of himself. He'd rushed into this, subconsciously arrogant enough to think that his existence, his presence in her life was all she'd need, would actually be better for her. He hadn't offered her himself, he'd offered her a glorified version of himself.

'You're not listening, are you?'

Joey slowly raised his head from his hands to see Shifty shaking his head.

'I knew you weren't. I knew you weren't listening.'

He wasn't going to lie. He loved his cousin, but right now he couldn't care less about whatever it was he'd just said. 'I wasn't.'

Shifty rolled his eyes. 'Typical, isn't it? The one everyone always goes to for advice won't listen to any advice himself.'

'And what advice could you possibly give me?' Even as Joey spoke the words, he regretted them. They were cruel. They had a ring of truth to them, perhaps, but still, they were unnecessarily spiteful.

Shifty didn't seem to pick up on this, though, or maybe he just chose to ignore the malice on account of Joey's current state.

'Don't you forget, I know Martina too.'

'You were seein' 'er for two weeks, Shifty!'

'Doesn't mean I don't know her, does it?'

'She left you- whatever you were doin' can't have been right, can it?'

'You think she's gonna leave you.'

Joey froze. 'I didn't say that.'

'Didn't have to. It's written all over your face.'

Joey sucked in a breath. 'She's gonna leave me, I'm gonna leave her, same difference.'

'Why are you thinkin' about leavin' her? I thought you loved her!'

'This is what you never understood, Shifty! That's not enough. You can love someone all you want, but it doesn't mean you deserve them, does it? So yes, son, I'm worried she's gonna leave me, but I'm equally worried I'm gonna have to leave her to save her gettin' hurt. Do you understand what I'm tryin' to say?'

'Not exactly,' said Shifty.

'Look,' Joey said, squaring his shoulders and leaning forward across the table, 'the last thing I want is to lose Martina, okay? But unless I can prove- to me and to her- that I deserve to keep her, then I can't, can I? She should have better than that.'

'Why don't you deserve to keep her? I was the one who nicked that bloke's car and got her abducted, not you.'

'Yeah, but I couldn't-' Joey didn't really want to explain the whole, long, complicated process of thought he'd just had regarding exactly why he didn't deserve Martina. For one thing, it had taken a long time to come to his conclusion, and he couldn't just simplify it into a few words. For another, he wasn't all that sure Shifty would understand him if he did. He ended up just trailing off.

'Well I think you're making a lot of fuss over nothing,' Shifty said. Yes, he would think that. 'And you should forget about it. If it takes your mind off things, did you know Celia and I have set a date for the wedding?'

Normally Joey would have been pleased, not to mention extremely surprised to hear that. He would have been asking shocked questions about the fact that it was still going ahead, that they were actually going through with it, and would probably have congratulated the Irishman, but, again, right now he couldn't care less.

'That's great, son,' he said unenthusiastically. 'Really great.'

'You're not gonna even try to be good conversation tonight, are you?' Shifty scoffed. 'I might as well be talking to the empty table. I might as well be talking to Billy, for all the input you're givin' me.'

'That's it, out of the kitchen, both of you,' Joey was saved from having to come up with a response by his Mam, bustling through with a bag of groceries in each arm. 'I want to start cooking the dinner now- into the parlour, both of you.'

'Well, I'd better be off anyway,' Shifty said, 'Celia's doing dinner for Grandad and me. I've got wholemeal organic cookin' to start mentally preparin' meself for.' He sloped off, leaving Joey with a dirty look.

'The sooner he moves in permanently with her, the better,' said Nellie, plonking down her grocery bags and putting one hand on Joey's shoulder. 'I don't like to think of him going around our house, corrupting my children.'

Joey hadn't even the heart to chide her about this remark.

'What's the matter?' Nellie was staring down at him with concern. 'You seem very quiet today.'

'Just…tired, that's all, Mam. Just tired.' He forced a smile.

'I'm not surprised, with how late you got back last night. You're not a nocturnal creature, Joey! You need to start letting yourself get some sleep!'

'I know, Mam, I know,' he held up his hands, sighing. 'I'm okay. I'll- I'll leave you to start dinner.'

He stood up, yawning- now that Nellie mentioned it, he was tired, though he hadn't really been thinking about it- and retreating to the other room while his mother started banging pots and pans around.

In the safety of the parlour, swaddled in the comfort of the couch and the quiet that came from all his siblings being out, Joey turned his thoughts back to his crisis. He'd established why he didn't deserve her-the glorified version of himself thing. Now how did he make that right? He thought back to all the time they'd spent together, flicking through the pages of their relationship, paying careful attention to what he'd done wrong, how he'd amended it at the time.

Two particular incidents kept springing to mind. The first, Martina's first encounter with Yizzel and his mate, when she'd worried that the two of them wouldn't work because of shady dealings, he'd rectified by promising her that, while he did cheat the DHSS, he wasn't a criminal. The second was earlier on that same night- when he'd been constantly going on about Roxy, completely oblivious to how upset he was making her. He'd assured Martina it was her he wanted, he'd apologised and she'd been all right again. Not only that, she'd seemed more pleased with him at the end of each than she normally did.

He played each one over and over, trying to think of a connection. Those had been the times when he'd been most worried about losing Martina before, and both times he'd come out smelling of roses, having successfully managed to fix everything, to win back her favour. Joey recalled them again and again, trying to re-enact them exactly in his head, searching for a connection. He'd done something right there.

He continued to pick at them for another ten minutes or so, forcing himself to think about each and everything he'd said, word for word. Still couldn't find anything.

Another five minutes and he decided to approach it from a different angle, instead focusing on her responses instead.

The Roxy incident had ended with her saying something along the lines of that she'd forgive him if only because you admitted your own error for once. But then after the other incident they'd made up because she'd looked at him, smirked and asked if he'd just admitted to cheating the DHSS. Oh, this was hopeless. There was no connection- that second one was just a tease…or was it?

A seedling of a hunch began to sprout in his brain. Admitting his own error, admitting he'd cheated the DHSS…admitting his own error, admitting the DHSS…a light bulb went off above his head. They'd gotten through their problems and stayed together not just because he'd gone to a lot of effort to make it up to her, not even because he'd apologised.

It was because he'd admitted he wasn't perfect. There it was, the antidote to the glorified version of himself that was keeping him from feeling he deserved her. He deserved Martina more…when he admitted he didn't. When he didn't try to charm her, or fob her off with an excuse, or make a promise he had no way of keeping.

Maybe that was the best thing he could give her. Not another promise that he'd somehow get rid of the Yizzel-related threats hanging over her, not another promise of protection because, although he would do everything in his power to stop anyone hurting her, he couldn't possibly keep tabs on her every minute of the day. Nothing like that.

Instead, he could offer her himself, as he was, full of imperfections and fully ready to acknowledge them.

If that wasn't the right thing to do, he didn't know what was.

A great weight seemed to lift from his shoulders, and Joey sat back against the sofa cushions, breathing out properly for the first time since last night. There was still the chance that she'd want to end it with him anyway, that she'd still regret getting involved with him, but, Joey figured, a good dose of honest humility might be the perfect thing to chase her regrets away.

He would tell her all this tomorrow- get down to the DHSS first thing and just do it.

What would he say, though? It was one thing to know what you wanted to express, it was another to actually express it. It was vital that what he said sounded just right- not rambling and stutter, or worse, like a self-important speech. Far too often, when he tried to voice a thought in front of Martina, he fell back into the old pattern of embellishments and exaggerated facial expressions and long, fancy words, laying on the charm extra thick. That was probably a one-way ticket to her not believing what he said. He'd have to keep it simple- but still make sure it was effective.

Joey's eyes alighted on a pad of paper, left over from Billy's pricing this morning. Maybe he should write a draft down. He wouldn't rehearse it- no, that would make it sound like a speech as well- but just to give him an idea of the sort of thing he could say on the day.

Ever so slowly, he drew his gold biro from his jacket pocket, rolled it between his fingers and poised it over the page. He clicked the end, and 'Rule Britannia' issued from it, the tune only serving to annoy today, rather than sound cute and amusing.

He pressed the end to the paper, then drew it back, then to the paper, then back, and then again about fifteen more times. He chewed on the end, wiped his mouth on his sleeve when he got a mouthful of ink, went and got a glass of water to wash out the taste of ink and leather, and still the page sat there all blank and looming.

You can do it, son.

Slowly, he lowered the pen to the paper once more and started to write.

If that didn't do it, then he was all out of ideas.

Another agonising, bordering-on-sleepless night, a few minor hiccups and family rows, a minor traffic jam which had him internally raging at the drivers around him and then he was there, approaching that looming counter, his legs changed to the consistency of jelly, just as they'd been on that day, quite a while ago now, when he'd propositioned her and then come for her answer.

'Greetings,' Joey said, the word coming out strangely flat.

'Mister Boswell,' Martina said with a curt nod, indicating that he should sit. This wasn't looking good. Joey took his seat, chewing on the inside of his lip. The note he'd written last night seemed to be burning through his jacket pocket into his skin, but suddenly he'd forgotten everything that was on it. He swallowed, swallowed again and cleared his throat.

'Well, go on then,' Martina raised one eyebrow and folded her hands.

Joey floundered. 'Go on?'

'I believe your words were I need ter see you in person, to talk to you. So go on.'

Joey scrutinised her. She didn't seem angry, or disappointed either. She didn't look like the shadow of a woman who'd shouted at him the other night. In fact, if anything, she looked more like herself than she had in a while- and the eldest Boswell wondered whether she had simply recovered, or whether she'd recovered because she was about to tell him it was over. The under-the-surface smirk trying to play about her lips was more like the Martina he knew and loved, and though he was internally quaking about its motives, he couldn't help but respond positively to it and let a small smirk of his own appear.

'I believe you said you'd found something,' he retorted.

Martina's mouth became smaller, and her eyes narrower. 'You first.'

Joey sat up straighter in his chair, his breathing suddenly erratic. There was no way out of this. He had to say it, had to say something.

'Look,' he began, choosing his words carefully, 'ever since that incident the other night…'

'Oh, don't you worry about that.'

'No, listen, ever since Yizzel and t'other bloke…'

Martina let out an unexpected snicker and covered her mouth with her hands.

He frowned. Had he said something funny without realising it?

'Are you okay?'

'Perfectly fine, Joey.'

'Well, since what happened to you…er, happened…'

'I said don't worry about that. All taken care of.'

'But…what?' Joey lost his thread completely, gaping unashamedly at her. What was she saying? Had she gone completely mad?

'What d'you mean, taken care of?'

She smiled evilly. 'I mean taken care of, as in taken care of.'

Joey still didn't follow. 'They said it wasn't finished, and I don't want you to get-'

She held up one hand, silencing him. 'It is finished now.'

'Martina, you're talkin' as if you personally went and finished it yourself-' Joey stopped short. 'You did, didn't you?'

'Told you I found somethin', didn't I?' she leaned in closer, her smile so sharp it nearly cut right through him. 'And that I could take care o' meself.'

Joey looked at her with wonder. It would take a miracle to get Yizzel's mate to back down. This woman was amazing- even more so than he'd already thought. His love and respect for her- already overflowing- increased another threefold.

'What did you find?' he breathed.

'I'll get to that shortly,' Martina said, leaning back again and folding her arms. 'I want to know what you were gonna say first.'

'Well, it's just,' the excitement he'd been beginning to feel dwindled again as he tried to remember his chosen words. 'First of all, I was worried that Yizzel and his mate- or if not them, someone else- might try to hurt you again, to get to me or somethin'. And I wanted to…to stop that happenin' to you, but I couldn't find a way to- but I tried, Martina, I really tried…' he sounded pleading, and forced himself to have a little more decorum.

'And then it turns out you've done somethin' yourself- I always knew you were fantastic, sweetheart!' They both grinned, and then Joey's face became serious again. 'That leads me to the second problem.'

Martina's smile faded too. 'What problem?'

'When I asked you the other night if you regretted…'

'-Joey-'

'No, wait. You said you didn't know.'

'-Joey-'

'No, just hear me out, angel. I need to say this.'

Martina nodded for him to continue.

'It got me thinkin'- about us. About our relationship.'

She let out a sharp hiss of breath. 'I suppose you're gonna look me in the eye now and promise we can still be friends.'

Joey's heart skipped a beat. 'No, no, no, sweetheart, that's what I meant! No!' He grabbed hold of both of her hands, clutching them like a lifeline. 'Just let me finish, please.'

'Ever since we started, I've been worried…I've been worried, what with me bein' a Boswell, and, and arrogant, like you said, and…and dubious, and you don't know what I do, and I know that bothers you, and sometimes I just think,' he pushed his hair off his forehead, willing himself not to choke up, 'perhaps I'm no good, and it's hard for me to admit this…but even though I seem to take meself too seriously or I don't take me faults seriously enough, and I try to act like I don't care about…what I am, I just mean…'

He was getting lost, sounding like a complete and total idiot. He needed to form a complete, coherent thought. He tried one more time.

'It's just…even through all of that, I still… I mean it's not that I don't realise…oh,' Joey gave up at trying to say it, rummaging in his pocket and bringing out the note instead. He couldn't say it. If he kept going, he was going to cry, and that wouldn't do any wonders for his cause- or his image. Not that he cared about his image at this moment.

He slammed it down on the counter in front of her. 'I can't say it without…just read that.'

Well this wasn't going at all as he'd planned. This hadn't been the great, humbling declaration of true love, faults and all, that he wanted. He hadn't even had the guts to come out and say what he felt. He'd just given her a note. Terrible.

Martina's forehead crinkled as she unfurled it, raising her brows at its state- falling apart, having been scrunched several times over when Joey had been desperately trying to memorise it.

She read it in silence, and he watched her eyes. She got to the end, went back and read it again, and this time Joey looked away, not wanting to see the expression on her face, in case it was one of disgust.

The silence seemed to drag.

'I see,' she said casually, as though letting him know she'd got a message about the football scores. He bit his lip and raised his head to meet her eye.

'Do you?' he asked pathetically, knowing how redundant and pointless that question was, but at the same time still biting back what he really intended to ask, hoping those two words could convey it all. Do you accept it? Do you still love me? Could you ever forgive me for being so hopeless?

'I've seen you write better letters to the electric company.' She turned it round in her hands. 'Not a single trace of embellishment, none of your usual sentiment…'

'I did say that I loved you,' Joey cut in, but a vicious look from her, indicating she wasn't finished, shut him up.

'Which is why it is, without a doubt…'

He held his breath.

'The best thing I think you've ever written.'

Joey's jaw dropped. 'What?'

'Joey,' Martina said, 'you didn't try to charm me, you didn't try to catch me in your web of poetry and flowery prose. You just told the truth. And…' was it just his imagination, or were her eyes watering? 'and…you admitted your own error.'

Her eyes locked with his, and she reached out to take hold of his hand in both of hers, 'Joey, you apologised and it was honest.'

'I'm always honest with you, sweetheart.'

She closed her eyes and sighed. 'I know- I realise that now. I should have realised it sooner- I was just…still blinded by all my prejudices, even though I didn't think I was.' She opened her eyes and Joey realised it wasn't his imagination- they were watering. 'I should have trusted you- I'm sorry.'

'Don't be.' He cupped her face in his hand. 'I don't blame you, sweet'eart. I know it's still hard to get past all that.'

'Joey,' she said quietly, her eyes flickering away and then back to him. 'I'm going to trust you from now on- that is, if you still want me to.'

She was finding it difficult to express what she wanted to say- but Joey understood. He didn't need to hear her say any more. He leaned through the partition- DHSS regulations be damned- and gave her a searing kiss.

He didn't know what he was expecting her reaction to be- she could be very cold, resistant, unresponsive when she didn't approve of his behaviour- refusing to kiss him back if she thought someone might see who shouldn't know- he'd braced himself for the worst.

But, to his surprise, she returned the kiss more enthusiastically, more passionately than he could ever remember, bringing her hand up to twist in his hair, pulling him further through the partition so the edge of the desk dug quite painfully into his chest. Joey didn't mind. This was her way of letting him know, once and for all, that she loved him unequivocally, that she no longer cared who knew it, that he mattered more to her than her job, than her worries about what people might think if they saw them or anything else for that matter. They'd gotten past that stumbling block that had hindered them all this time- no, not just gotten past it. They'd smashed it down now.

She pulled back a little bit. 'Joey Boswell, you may be the most villainous man who ever cheated the DHSS, you may be arrogant and egotistical and own far too much leather, and in my professional capacity I may be out to pull the rug out from under you- but I love you. I can't help it.'

'Oi! Would you mind expressing your great love fer each other later? Only I've been waitin' for me giro long enough- and I wanna get to the pubs sometime today!'

Joey and Martina jumped apart, both wide-eyed as rough, aggressive Mister Wilson approached the counter, teeth gritted as usual, ready to demand his money. Martina pulled away quite reluctantly to reach for a form, but Joey tightened his grip on her arm. He couldn't leave her alone with this man- not with the man who'd threatened her, who'd very nearly assaulted her after a particularly bad incident in the DHSS and too much to drink.

True, it was this violence that had set the chain of events in motion leading to his relationship with Martina- and he could never stop being grateful that he had her now, but if it could have happened another way he would have been just as happy. He'd reached out to protect Martina at first, and although he realised now his feelings had always been more than just that, and even though he'd just admitted that he couldn't always protect her, even though she'd just proven she didn't need protecting, his instinctive reaction was still to want to keep her from harm. Besides, this wasn't a slick, but blackmail-able criminal, it was vicious, beat-you-up Mister Wilson. He took a step in front of her to shield her from the other man.

'Sign this, Mister Wilson,' Martina said in a monotone, leaning round Joey to hand him a form. Mister Wilson snatched it up, scribbling a signature and thrusting it back at her. Both of them sighed in relief as the hulking man began to slope off, Joey sinking back into his seat, and then they jumped again as he turned abruptly. He looked from one to the other, and gave a strange sort of malicious smile.

'And about bloody time, I must say, you pair o' twonks!'

And then he was gone. Joey and Martina exchanged glances.

'About time…' Martina mused to herself. 'D'you think he…'

'I think,' Joey said, 'that maybe all that secret-keepin' did nothin' at all…'

She hummed. 'It's about time we stopped hiding this, isn't it, Mister Boswell?'

'Precisely, sweetheart. And you know what else?'

She looked at him expectantly.

'It's about time you kissed me again.'

Martina rolled her eyes and tutted, but a smirk remained fixed on her face. 'Oh, is it?'

Joey paused a moment, pretending to contemplate something, and then jumped up suddenly. 'Right- that's it. I'm comin' in there.'

Martina widened her eyes. 'What did you just say?'

'You heard me,' Joey grinned, climbing up onto the partition and limbo-ing his way under it.

'What do you think you are doing?!'

'I,' Joey said, whilst rather awkwardly but successfully manoeuvring himself across the desk and through the window, not caring who saw him, 'am coming to get you, Martina!' He slid down from the desk, landing on his feet beside her.

Martina, half-laughing from hysteria, shock and amusement, stood up from her chair just in time for Joey to grab her round the waist.

'Much better, sweetheart,' he said. 'That counter was gettin' in our way- and seein' as our relationship is no longer a secret, we might as well be obvious about it.' He glanced back at the DHSS, at the people who had all stopped what they were doing to stare at the spectacle he was making. The room looked different like this, from this side of the counter, and for a split second Joey felt he was viewing the Social Security building through Martina's eyes- the benches with the waiting clients, the vast expanse of room across which they trudged to place their complaints at her door. He blinked slowly, trying to photograph it with his mind, burn it onto his memory for another time. He wanted to think about it later, contemplate it, find out more about what went on in her head when she sat there, but right now he had other, more immediate concerns.

Blithely ignoring all the more-than-just-surprised looks he was getting from everyone else in the room, he pulled Martina closer, dipped her backwards as though they were in a black-and-white movie and kissed her again.

'You are ridiculous, Joey Boswell,' she muttered against his mouth.

'Ridiculously charming,' he returned, running one hand through her hair. 'That's why you love me.'

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't wipe the mischievous look from her face. 'So you think.'

'Oh, I do, I do…'

She tutted, thwacking him on the arm.

Joey just pulled her even closer. 'But you do love me.'

She reached up, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. 'That I do,' she said softly, and Joey's heart soared and soared.

'And I love you, sweetheart,' he said with great feeling, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. 'My little Money Angel.'

'Oi! Lovebirds!' came yet another raucous voice from the other side of the partition. 'We 'aven't got all day- some of us wanna get to the pubs this century!'

'Go on,' Martina pushed lightly against his chest. 'Let me get on with me lie-detectin'.'

Joey allowed himself one last quick kiss to her jaw. 'To be continued,' he murmured.

She smirked. 'Go on!'

'All right, sunshine, I'm goin'.' He paused. 'But when I return, will you tell me what it was you found on Yizzel's mate?'

'If you play your cards right,' she winked, and turned back to the loudmouth sitting in front of her desk.

Chapter Text

'Mam,' Joey said slowly, 'what would you say if I told you I'd met someone?'

Nellie looked up in alarm. 'You've not taken up with that Roxy again, 'ave you, Joey? She's bad news, that Roxy- didn't you learn from last time? Toying around with people's hearts- and she's married, Joey! Don't forget that! Gettin' mixed up with her will only bring you more trouble…'

'Mam- Mam,' Joey rubbed his hand up and down her arm, trying to calm her down, 'it's not Roxy.'

Nellie's face turned to surprise. 'You- you mean you've met someone else? Another girl?' She seemed rather excited, and then she froze in horror. 'A Proddy? Another married woman?!'

'No, Mam,' he calmed her once more, 'not a Proddy. You'd like her- Catholic, unmarried, down-to-earth…' he raised an eyebrow, 'no babies…'

'Well, when are we going to meet her, Joey?'

'Soon as you like.' He shrugged. 'Tomorrow, if you want. I'll bring her for dinner.'

Nellie was visibly pleased. 'Aw, 'ow lovely. It's nice when all your special people take an interest in the family.' Joey felt this wasn't the time to mention the fact that he and Martina had argued about this meeting for several months beforehand, nor the longstanding vendetta between her and the Boswell family, which, although she'd visibly mellowed, was still very much in the present in some ways.

His Mam was still going on. 'You see, Billy? You see?'

'Eh?' Billy, who'd just wandered unsuspectingly into the kitchen, looked up from where he was drinking directly from the milk bottle, a white moustache quivering on his upper lip.

'Joey's met a girl,' Nellie said proudly, 'and she's agreed to meet the family- you see?'

'Aw, hey, don't start again, Mam!' Billy whined. 'I've told you- I can't convince Julie to come round- I couldn't even convince her when we weren't gettin' divorced! It's like…it's like she's got a mind of her own!'

Joey shook his head. He worried about Billy's mind sometimes.

'I know that, yes,' Nellie said, 'she's got her own mind, and most of yours as well!'

It didn't help his drama-queen cause that Billy was already on his feet, but he settled for slamming the empty milk bottle down on the stovetop, which made enough noise to compensate.

'WELL I DON'T GET A CHOICE WHEN SHE'S GOT MY BABY IN THAT-what girl?!'

Took long enough for that thought to get to the front of his brain, Joey thought. Of all his siblings, Billy was the only one he still hadn't told about Martina, for the obvious reason that his gob wouldn't be able to control itself at the news. Adrian's first reaction had been cringe-worthy enough- he'd gone straight down to confront Martina and made all sorts of insinuations- and he was supposed to be one of the sensible ones. Joey didn't like to imagine what Billy'd do, and so he'd put off telling him for as long as he could.

'What d'you mean, what girl?' Nellie asked him. 'He's found a girl, that's all, just a girl, a…girl girl!'

'It's not that Roxy, is it?'

Joey sighed. Was he going to have to go through this every single time? His family thought alarmingly alike at times, and could be incredibly uncreative in their reactions.

'No, son,' he said, doing his utmost to sound patient, 'not Roxy. A different girl.'

'Aw, hey, great!' Billy said. 'You'll 'ave to ask her round!'

'Yes, Billy,' Joey said, smiling with annoyance, 'I have.'

'Aw, hey,' said Billy again, 'great.' He looked down the neck of his milk bottle, and on seeing it was empty returned it to the fridge for someone else to dispose of. 'Well I'm off to see Julie now- we're taking Francesca to the park and we're gonna talk about the divorce.' He seemed surprisingly cheery, despite this last comment, and Joey watched him go with another discreet shake of his head. He could only hope that the 'talking about the divorce' entailed some sort of reconciliation, and Billy would be a good enough mood when he got home to listen to the full story without jumping to some wild conclusion- or worse, ignoring him completely and then screaming loudly in shock when Martina turned up tomorrow.

Speaking of which, there were a few things he needed to clear with his Mam now they were once again alone. He already felt just a little guilty about the Catholic-Proddy thing, but when he'd said she wasn't a Proddy, he reasoned, it wasn't entirely untrue. It wasn't entirely true either, but it wasn't an out-and-out lie.

It had kept slipping his mind to ask her, especially with all the other issues they'd had in their relationship up til now, and getting Martina to agree to come to Kelsall Street had been enough of a challenge. It was, in the end, only last night that he'd finally found out, and when he'd heard her response, he wasn't sure what to think at first.

She'd just, after much deliberation, conceded and said she'd visit in a couple of days, and Joey, in his happiness, had picked her up and spun her around, the two of them falling into a passionate kiss on Martina's sofa. It happened to be at this point that the idea had suddenly occurred to Joey, and he'd pulled back, blurting out a rather Bily-esque you're not a Protestant, are you?, effectively ruining the intimacy of the moment.

She'd looked up at him in a mix of confusion and amusement. 'Excuse me?'

He'd tried to explain. It wasn't him, he'd said- he'd love her even if she was (though he refrained from mentioning that Roxy had been, for fear he might open up that channel of jealousy again), he tried to explain about his mam, and about her fervent, burning hate for all things Proddy, followed up by a more polite inquiry of which church, if any, she belonged to.

'Both,' she'd said, as if her answer made perfect sense. Which it didn't.

'You can't be both.'

'You most certainly can. One parent of each.'

Joey had found himself smirking as he thought about what Nellie would say to that. She'd probably be questioning if Martina's parents were still together, and if so, how that was even possible. Her answer was beginning to make sense to him, but it wouldn't to his Mam, who believed the groups to be sworn enemies.

'But then which church would you go to?' he'd persisted.

'Either. Don't see any difference, honestly.'

Another thing his Mam would hate to hear. She was deliberately being vague, though, he'd thought, so he'd tried once more to extract an answer.

'But which were you baptised into?' he was aware he sounded whiny, and that she had picked up on his desperation to hear one name mentioned over the other.

'You know, I don't think I'll tell you.' She'd smirked.

And that had been that.

Well, Joey reasoned, if she was half-and-half, then he could just tell Nellie about the Catholic half and she'd be satisfied enough. So technically what he'd told her was the truth, or it would keep his mother from judging her too harshly, anyhow.

But that wasn't what he wanted to talk over with his Mam, anyway. It was more the issue that his brothers had had to come to terms with that he now felt had to be addressed- the fact that Martina was a DHSS lady, and he had no idea at all how Nellie would feel about that.

'Mam, look,' he began, clasping his hands together and wringing them, 'there's somethin' about this girl you should probably know.'

Nellie's face instantly went into worried-mode. 'Oh, Joey! She's not a TART, is she?'

And that's the first thing you thought of, is it? He laughed. 'No, Mam, not one bit of it.'

'Well what then, Joey?' she looked unnecessarily worried, and the eldest Boswell placed a steadying hand on her shoulder.

'It's not about what she is…' Joey began, trying to phrase it in the best way possible, 'it's more about where she works.'

He was treated to some more of his mother's frenzied guesses, all of which were laughably ridiculous and somehow involved ill-repute. He waited them all out before attempting to go on.

'No, Mam, she, er, she works in the DHSS.' A silence.

'There's a chance you've met 'er, actually.' Joey'd been considering this. Nellie Boswell's one ever trip to the DHSS was a legend- both among the family and the staff down the Social Security. She'd made such a ruckus no-one was ever likely to forget, and Martina had alluded to it occasionally.

'In the DHSS?' Nellie asked, with a look of genuine, but thankfully not hysterical, surprise. 'Is that where you met her- in the DHSS?'

Joey nodded. 'Yes. It is.'

'Well, fancy that. You can't picture those DHSS ladies ever going around seeing people, can you? Oh, Joey- she's not the one who curls her hair up at the ends, is she?'

Joey gulped. 'That's the one,' he ventured warily.

Nellie looked thoughtful. 'You want be careful, Joey. I didn't take to her. She's got that sort of Marie-Antoinette air about her, like she thinks the rest of the world should just eat cake…'

'No she doesn't!' Joey defended, though he couldn't help laughing at the analogy. 'And she isn't like that all the time, you know. It's not easy, doin' her job. She's perfectly lovely, actually.'

'They all seem lovely at the start, Joey. Even the TART seemed amiable when I first hired her to clean the house, before she started working to steal your father away from me. Wait 'til you get to know people better before you go about saying they're lovely, that's what I've learnt.'

'I have gotten to know her, Mam,' Joey insisted. He hesitated. 'I've been seein' her for months now.'

He waited for the torrent of why didn't you say anything before type questions, and his anticipation was not in vain.

'Well, I didn't wanna say anythin' too early on, you know, in case it didn't work out, and then, what with me Dad's heart when we went to Rome, and Aveline's wedding, and everything, I thought it'd be better to wait…'

He went on to repeat that Martina, in his opinion, was lovely, listing all the qualities he thought would appeal to Nellie most, finishing with an emphatic 'you'd like her if you knew her, Mam. Trust me.'

'You said that about Roxy- and look at her. None of us took to her at all!'

'But she's not Roxy, Mam,' he replied. 'They're miles apart.'

They looked at each other for a while, Joey's gaze pleading, begging her to at least try to see things from his point of view, hers wary but slowly softening.

'I'll do my best to like her, Joey.' She took his hand in hers, playing with his fingers the way she had when he was a child.

'That's all I ask, Mam.' He smiled warmly, and she returned it. They sat like that for a few minutes, and then Nellie stood, excusing herself with the plea that she had to go and start lunch- Grandad would have a fit if it was late again. Joey remained in his seat for a few more moments, remembering and wondering and anticipating.

'Joey,' Nellie's hand came down on his shoulder from out of the blue, clutching a handful of his leather jacket. 'What do DHSS ladies eat?'

Now the arrangements had been made, an actual date for this meeting had been set, Joey tackled his brothers, aiming to catch them all at the same time to tell them about it. This way, he figured, he'd be saved from having to answer the same set of questions three times, and when Billy made a scene, as he inevitably would, there would be others there to help shut him up.

They were all preoccupied- Jack reading a magazine, Adrian reading over a poem he'd just knocked up, Billy asleep, which was probably the closest he'd ever come to doing something productive with his mind- when Joey sat down in the armchair at the far end of the parlour, clearing his throat.

None of them looked up.

Joey made a more defined ahem noise.

'You got a cold, Joey?' Billy murmured. Not so asleep, then.

'I'm just fine, son- but I did want to talk to you all about somethin'.'

Finally, he had their attention. Joey decided to make the most of this moment, cutting straight to the chase.

'I'm bringin' Martina round tomorrow.'

'Oh, great,' said Jack, barely looking up from his magazine.

'Tomorrow?' said Adrian, going rather pale, his papers jumping out of his hands and skittering across the coffee table.

' 'oo's Martina?' said Billy.

The other three gave him a set of withering looks.

'Oh, right,' Billy opened his eyes properly, sitting up straight. 'The girl. The one Joey's met- that Mam approves of more than Julie.'

Adrian and Jack exchanged glances.

'He doesn't know, does he?' Jack asked Joey.

'Know what?' Billy asked.

'He doesn't realise,' Adrian contributed, still shaking a little.

'Realise what?' Billy asked.

'He doesn't know what Joey's got us all in for, does he?' Jack went on ominously, enjoying the tease.

'What's he got us all in for?' Billy demanded.

'Oh, nothing really,' Jack said, grinning. 'Not'in' important.'

He paused long enough to allow Billy to mutter about never being told anything.

'Except for that fact that Martina's the DHSS lady.'

'The DHSS lady?!' Billy went straight into his favourite routine, jumping off the sofa and onto his feet. He gave Joey a scandalised look.

'Which DHSS lady?'

'The scary one,' Jack volunteered.

Billy sat down with a bump. 'So what we're sayin' is…you met this girl and you're bringin' her 'ere tomorrow…and it turns out she's the DHSS lady?'

Joey snorted at his brother's logic. 'Well, it didn't work quite like that, sunshine, but you've got the gist there.'

Billy sat there quietly, making a face like a fish, eyes wide but his gob seemingly stuck for perhaps the first time in his life.

Joey, Jack and Adrian stared at him, waiting for some sort of reaction- an outburst, a panic attack, a round of sobbing- something unmistakeably Billy.

The youngest of the Boswell siblings sat still for a moment longer, and then jumped back up and ran for the stairs.

'Where are you going?' Adrian asked.

'I'm gonna go 'ide all me bank statements!' Billy announced over his shoulder, 'so she can't find 'em! And then I'm gonna go stay at Julie's until she's gone!'

'Divorce off, is it?'

'No, but I'm not goin' anywhere near that DHSS lady when she's in this 'ouse!' he stomped up and out of sight.

His three siblings all looked at each other.

'I'm not ready for all this!' came Billy's voice from the landing, and they all snickered.

'Of course, me brothers'll probably still be a bit uncomfortable…'

'Yes, you've said that.'

'And it'd probably better if you kept the half-Proddy thing under your hat for now…'

'You've said that and all.'

'It's just that me Mam…'

'Joey, will you stop fussin'?' Martina had been listening to these same last-minute reminders for about half an hour now, and she was more than sick of them. 'Everythin's gonna be fine.'

Truth be told, she was probably just as nervous about this visit as Joey seemed to be, though she was managing to be less skittish on the outside. Joey switched off the engine of his Jag and turned to look at her.

'You sure you're okay with this?'

She gave him a reassuring smile.

'I mean it, angel, 'cause once you've walked through that door you can't be lookin' for ways to catch us out at the DHSS…'

'Says who?'

'Martina,' Joey said, a worried expression on his face, and she rolled her eyes.

'I know, I know, I'm off-duty, and this is a social visit and nothin' to do with work- we've been through all this before, haven't we, Joey? So save yer breath. There are better things you could be doin' with yer gob.'

'Oh,' said Joey, his panic instantly vanishing and a facetious smile taking its place. 'And what sort of things might those be, pray tell, sweetheart?'

Martina leaned over, putting one hand behind his head and ghosting her lips across his. Joey moved forward to deepen the action into a proper kiss, but she jumped back before he had the chance.

'Eh- you call that a kiss? Oh, Martina, don't be cruel.'

'You'll get the rest of it when the evenin's over,' she said, smirking. 'Provided, that is, that you behave yerself.'

'Me behave myself? What am I gonna do in front of me own family?'

'Well, I don't know yet, do I? But I'm not takin' any chances.' And before he could protest, she undid her seatbelt and climbed out of the car.

It was rather strange, standing on Kelsall Street- the home of the enemies of the DHSS, and coming here as a friend. The last time she'd been down the road had been quite by mistake, and she had spotted Grandad eating an enormous amount of dinner from a tray on his lap, which she'd made a note of for the next time Joey came in with a claim about him. The time before that, the circumstances had been different again- she'd come with a grim mission, a chuck-note to deliver and a gold brooch to return. Not exactly pleasant memories, either of them, and neither of them were even remotely like this. This time she was returning not only to actively visit the Boswells, but be introduced as the girlfriend of the leader of their little mob himself. She would have to be polite and amiable. She would have to be…actually nice to every single Boswell she came into contact with.

If she got through that, she thought, she deserved the full version of that kiss. It could be her reward as well as his.

Across the street, the door to Number 41 opened, and a familiar curly-haired youth was tossed out into the street, being swatted at by an aggressive girl with a broom in one hand.

'Get out of my 'ouse, Billy Boswell!' the girl screeched. 'I don't want you comin' over 'ere and takin' advantage of me, then insultin' me cooking 'cause it's not like ya Mam's! Go home! Go back over the road!'

'And that must be Julie,' Martina murmured to Joey, who'd come round to stand by her side as the spectacle raged on. She'd heard enough of the stories to at once recognise what was going on.

'Correct,' Joey replied, kissing the top of her head. 'You're gonna fit right in, sweetheart.'

'I will go 'ome, then, Julie! See if I care, Julie! And to be honest, your cooking's rotten, Julie!'

Billy stormed away from the still shrieking Julie, muttering angrily under his breath. He stopped halfway in the middle of the road, and, looking up and seeing both Joey and Martina leaning against the Jag and watching him, turned and fled in the direction he'd come.

'Julie! Let me back in! Julie!'

Martina blinked at the youngest Boswell's sudden change in attitude. She looked at Joey, who laughed and shook his head.

'Don't take it personally, sweetheart. He's always been a bit off his rocker, that one.'

'I've noticed, yeah.' She slipped her arm through the one he offered, and allowed herself to be led around the car toward Number Thirty.

'They 'aven't brought me tray, you know!'

Martina jumped a little, turning round to see Grandad in his chair outside the house next door, peering at her through his spectacles. Oh. She hadn't noticed him before, and she suddenly felt a little embarrassed, though she wasn't sure why.

'It'll be comin', Grandad, don't worry,' Joey said soothingly, and then nudged her forward. 'This, Grandad, is Martina.'

'I know who she is,' Grandad said irritably. 'She's that D-S-S person with the big tits who you're always mekkin' eyes at.'

Martina felt her cheeks colour, and by the looks of it, Joey's were doing the same.

'Well you're not comin' in my house,' Grandad continued, 'I won't 'ave any 'anky panky in me parlour, not again! I saw enough of it with what you were doin' in the car!'

The DHSS lady's face grew even hotter and she looked away. Joey just unwound his arm from hers, put it all the way round her shoulders and steered her away from the old man and towards the family house (or, technically, the house owned by Grandad, but Martina decided she wouldn't think about all that for the time being).

'Well, then,' he murmured as they neared the door, and he turned his key in the lock, 'this is it.'

'Don't get all dramatic,' she chided, though the same thought was running through her mind as they stepped into the house.

Chapter Text

Nellie Boswell was pretty much what Martina had expected, only a toned-down version. Martina remembered her well- she had, in fact, once barged into the DHSS, showing no consideration for the rules of conduct or the queue, and made all sorts of ridiculous demands at the top of her voice, and it had taken her and the other two clerks together about twenty minutes to talk her down and get her to leave. She'd exited the building shouting something about tarts, and though Martina looked back on the occasion with great amusement, she refrained from mentioning it and smiled politely when she was introduced, as though this was the first time they'd met.

'Won't you, er…sit down, love?' Nellie offered, and Martina did so, taking the plate she was offered without question. Well, so far, so good. She squeezed Joey's hand under the table.

Sitting across from her, Adrian had his head down, studying his empty plate as though it were the most fascinating thing to ever have existed. As she took her seat, he raised his head a little, a pair of huge brown eyes daring to steal a look at her before returning hastily to the plate. The corner of Martina's mouth turned upwards.

'You don't 'ave ter hide from me, you know,' she said. 'I'm not gonna bite yer, if that's what you're worried about.'

She felt Joey snicker beside her and kicked him.

Adrian jumped at her words. 'No, of course not…er…sorry,' he cringed, his shoulders coming up to protect his ears. 'I was just…I…er, sorry,' he said again.

'Adrian, pull yourself together, son!' Joey chided, but he was clearly amused.

'What's for dinner, Mam?' Jack lumbered in, a painting in an ornate frame cradled close to his chest. 'Hey, Joey, look what I f-' He stopped, realising just who was in the room, and hastily hiding the painting behind his back.

'Oh, hey, Dra-er, Martina! Joey's finally worked up the courage to bring you round…I…forgot…about…tha'…that's great, kid,' and he patted her rather awkwardly on the shoulder and shuffled off out the room, trying his utmost (and failing) to conceal the painting.

Martina suppressed the urge to laugh, and, remembering something Joey had said to her, back when all the Yizzel dramas had been going on, turned to him.

'Counterfeit art?' she whispered.

'That you will never know,' he replied. 'Remember, you're not supposed to be doin' any snoopin'. You promised.'

'Doesn't count if I accidentally happen to see it.'

He looked at her, and she held his gaze for a moment, the two of them unconsciously turning it into a game of who could manage to keep a straight face for longest. Martina saw Joey's mouth twitch and increased the intensity of her stare. He always lost these sorts of games to her.

'Aw, that's sweet, that is,' Jack was back in the room, giving them some sort of disgusted look, and Martina realised that to others their competition must look like a lovers' gaze, 'but knock it off, will you- we're about to eat.'

The two broke their stare, turning back towards the centre of the table, but not before Joey had mouthed I won at her (her foot he had, she'd set him straight about that later) and Nellie came to the head of the table with a serving dish just in time for Billy to come running into the room, red-faced, sweaty and out of breath, and slam himself down across the table from them.

'I'm back, Mam, and this time I mean it!'

'Like last time,' Adrian muttered.

'Yeah, well this time I'm stayin' 'ere- I can't remember why I even left, and…' as Billy spoke, he looked around the table, his eyes passing over Martina twice before locking on her. His rant stopped short. He laughed nervously, a noise reminiscent of Adrian in the DHSS. 'Er, yeah, I've just remembered I left me toothbrush at Julie's…I'd better go get…' he started to inch out of his seat, 'it back…I think…'

'Sit down, Billy, and stop bein' ridiculous,' Joey commanded, and the authority in his voice did something to Martina. She knew he took it upon himself to mentor and take care of his younger siblings, what with their father being irregularly in and out of the picture, but she'd never seen it in action before. The closest she'd come was seeing him talk down Yizzel and his mate when he'd come to her rescue, and it wasn't quite the same somehow.

Billy sat down at once, and though for a little while he kept not-so-subtly sending dirty looks her way, he soon began to visibly relax about Martina's being here. Enough to try and steal the food before it had been dished out, anyway.

'Prayers,' said Nellie, and the Boswells immediately clapped their hands together as one. Martina took a look around and then copied them.

'We thank Thee, O God,' the Boswell matriarch began in a priestlike tone, and then was interrupted, much to her clear annoyance, by the entrance of a familiar, scruffy-looking man.

'Just passin',' Freddie Boswell said chirpily.

Nellie cracked one eye open to glare at him. 'You're interrupting prayers.'

Freddie ignored her, turning to Martina and shaking her hand quite vigorously.

'Ah, Martina! Nice to see you again,' he beamed, and Martina found it easy to smile back. Her one and only previous encounter with Freddie Boswell had been brief, but she'd found him rather friendly and easy-going- a sort of older, less complicated version of Joey, without the crocodile cunning.

Nellie stopped the pretence of keeping her eyes shut and gave him a full-on glare. 'And what do you know about it, Freddie Boswell?'

'Well, I met her a while back, didn't I?' Freddie chirped on, unaware that this was apparently the wrong thing to say. Nellie looked at her eldest as though she'd been totally betrayed, and then turned back to her husband with the clear intent of raising her voice.

'Mam,' Joey said, sotto voce, patting her hand. 'Company- remember?'

'Oh, yes,' said Nellie, flustered, 'of course…never mind, Freddie Boswell. What our son tells you is between you and him.' This was obviously a great strain, as was the smile she attempted next. 'Just…come with me for a moment…' she got up from her chair, taking hold of Freddie's arm and directing him towards the front door, 'I just want to…show you something, yeeees…'

'Someone's gonna get it,' said Billy, and received shut-your-gob looks from his brothers.

Nellie barely made it past the vestibule before her shouts could be heard echoing across the street.

Martina joined in with the siblings as they all burst out laughing, and Adrian, Jack and Billy, although unable to control their own hysterics for a few moments, all still managed to look at her strangely, as though they'd never heard of a DHSS lady enjoying herself before.

Although she knew them all reasonably well from visits to the DHSS, it was fascinating to watch what happened when you put two or more Boswells together, to study the way they each interacted with the different members of their family, who got on better with whom (a few relationships of which rather surprised her). If she'd had any sort of tertiary education, Martina thought perhaps she'd write a thesis on the Boswell species- it would certainly make for some very interesting research.

She stayed sat around the table with them for the good part of an hour, quietly observing everything that went on, from Billy's tantrums (she'd known the boy liked to complain, but even she hadn't imagined he'd leap to his feet that many times in succession, and over the most pointless issues) to Jack's successes and failures (mostly failures) in the antique trade, to all the different threads Adrian was hanging by, to Grandad's physical frailty (and the great squabble that erupted as to who had to get up and take his tray round), which she still thought was highly exaggerated.

As the evening wore on, the Boswells seemed to become accustomed to her presence there, became less and less inhibited and even began to include her in their conversations. She was given the honour of hearing one of Adrian's latest poems, a load of miserable rubbish about someone named Carmen, and, though she couldn't recall the topic being mentioned in the verse, which prompted every other sibling to at least make one comment about 'the bushes.' Nellie, who'd calmed down as soon as Joey's dad had been packed off to where he'd come from, came around and they had a surprisingly amiable conversation about her work. Martina was getting along quite well, and she was extremely pleased with herself. She even managed to say hello to Shifty when he passed through without spitting up bile, and they shared a lukewarm smile before he disappeared again.

If any of the other Boswells noticed anything strange between them, they didn't say anything.

They all ended up in the parlour, sitting around sipping coffee while Nellie attacked the washing-up, and Martina had to admit, she thought both Billy and Adrian were being brave, not fleeing from the room. Billy had even deigned to sit on the same sofa as her, though he kept as much distance between them as possible.

Joey sat down beside her, quite unashamedly putting his arm around her shoulders and kissing her, much to his siblings' horror and embarrassment. Martina wasn't exactly thrilled by this gesture either.

Not in front of yer family, Joey. I do have to retain some o' me authority with them, you know.

She didn't say this, though, and Joey, well aware of how awkward he was making things, blithely repeated his action, then again, then again, til his brothers were all squirming in their seats, not knowing where to look.

'Oh, don't be like that, Adrian!' Joey said cheerily to the poet, who was now trying to hide his face behind a paper, 'you weren't exactly the soul of discretion when you and Carmen…'

'Before you start,' Adrian cut in, suddenly cross, 'you'd better rethink any comments you make about the bushes!'

'I'm just sayin', is all,' said Joey, 'that when-'

'Joey?' came Nellie's voice from the kitchen. 'Can you come here a moment?'

With an apologetic shrug, Joey retrieved his arm from around Martina's shoulders and strolled out into the kitchen, leaving her alone with the three other Boswell brothers.

Jack and Billy both craned their necks, trying to see and hear what was going on.

'She's probably gonna give 'im her approval of you, Martina,' said Jack.

'Or not,' Billy added tactlessly.

'No, she wouldn't dare not,' Adrian said, sending an attempt at a flippant look in her direction, and Martina realised that, for the first time since she'd ever met him, he'd made a jest. Her jaw dropped just a little. Oh, she was going to have to get him back for that one.

A silence descended on the four of them, but it wasn't an awkward one, as Martina had imagined it would be. They were all, in fact, trying to make out Joey's conversation with his Mam. The fact that Nellie wasn't shouting hysterically must mean something was right, Martina decided, and turned her attention to her coffee instead.

'Eh,' said Jack, coming to sit beside her, 'I've got a question.'

She looked up from her cup. 'Go on.'

'Just sayin' I bought a picture…' Jack began, and Martina had to conceal her tiny smirk.

'And I was gonna sell it, and then…when I got it home the frame had been broken…'

Martina nodded slowly.

'If I made a claim for it, what would it count as? Property damage, or a business expense?'

Hmm. How did she answer this? She knew what she'd like to say, but then again, the situation probably wouldn't deem it appropriate.

'Firstly,' Martina said, putting her cup down and folding her hands, 'buyin' and sellin' pictures doesn't constitute business- especially if you don't declare it, which I don't recall you ever doin'. Secondly, I'm not 'ere ter discuss business- and thirdly, you wanna watch what you say around me.' She smiled evilly. 'Just because I'm not takin' notes now doesn't mean I won't remember everythin' I've seen and 'eard fer next time you come down to visit me…'

Adrian and Billy gave quite audible gasps. Jack, however, looked completely unconcerned.

'Whatever you say, darlin',' he said with a casual smile.

'You should have known that though anyway, Jack,' Billy suddenly piped up, 'you remember about four years ago when our Joey bought that…' he suddenly realised what he was saying, and who he was saying it in front of, and slammed his gob shut immediately.

Martina sat up straighter. This had just gotten interesting. 'What did Joey do?'

'Oh, er, nothing.'

Taking back what she'd just said to Jack, she assumed her sweetest, and at the same time most wicked, scheming smile. 'You can talk about it in front o' me,' she coaxed, 'it doesn't really matter what you say…'

'But you just said…' Adrian began, and she shot him a warning look. She wanted to hear this.

'Oh. Okay.' Billy looked more than eager to do so, and soon she'd heard a quite detailed and humorous account of a rather embarrassing incident which she couldn't wait to start taunting Joey about. She'd never even imagined that suave, sophisticated Joey Boswell would ever…

'Greetings! I'm back,' Joey announced, not that he'd been gone for all that long. He was beaming as he regained his place on the sofa, and Martina took that to mean the conversation he'd just had had gone well. Perhaps he'd gotten Nellie's 'approval' after all.

He replaced his arm round Martina's shoulders. 'What were we all talkin' about, then?'

Martina exchanged glances with Billy. True, she wanted to take full advantage of what he'd told her, take at least three-quarters of an hour to taunt Joey to pieces because of it- but not now. She wanted that moment to be either in the DHSS or when they were alone and she could punctuate her teasing with an un-awkward kiss or two.

'Oh, just…the DHSS, yeah,' Billy came to a not-so-helpful rescue.

Joey blinked. 'Oh?'

'Yeah,' continued Billy, 'just about what it's like, I mean. Nothing horrid- just, you know, that it must be interesting to work there.'

Martina sent him a discreet thumbs-up. She hoped he realised she intended it sarcastically.

'You know,' said Adrian, actually contributing something that helped save Billy's pathetic excuse for a fib, 'I have always wondered about that, actually. I mean, don't get me wrong, I still think it's not fair that you strip everyone's privacy down to its innermost underpants…'

Martina gave him another healthy glare.

'But it must be quite interesting to see how people live their lives, you know, what their aspirations are.'

'Mm,' Martina said in a non-committal tone. Good save.

'And it must be quite, er…good,' Adrian was digging himself into a deeper hole here, 'when you do actually manage to catch someone out at something- say, if someone, er...' he rasped, his voice going a bit too high as he realised what he was saying was only humiliating himself, 'contradicts themselves, or something…'

'Or when someone's fluffy bunny falls out of their briefcase…' Martina murmured. There. Got you back. That'll teach you to try and stick it to me.

Adrian's face immediately contorted into one of horror.

'Aw, don't be so cruel, sweetheart,' Joey said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. 'It's not his fault he's a sensitive lad.'

Adrian forgot about horror and opted to look indignant.

' 'avin' a stuffed bunny in my briefcase does not make me 'sensitive'!' he defended. 'And anyway, you can't make fun of me for that, Joey, when for years after you grew up you still-'

'-I think it's probably time I took Martina home now,' said Joey, leaping from the sofa at an almost Billy-speed. 'I think we've pestered her enough for one day, and it is gettin' late.'

He led her toward the door, ushering her out of it as fast as he could, and she never got to hear what it was that Joey did. No matter, she'd heard plenty of other interesting things this evening, and who knew? She might even go back there some other time, and hear all about the misdeeds and embarrassments Joey wanted to keep hidden. Now she'd broken the ice somewhat, she was sure the others- Billy, at least- would be quite happy to tell her.

Martina stepped onto the street, breathing in the crisp night air and feeling a great wave of relief. She'd done it. And it hadn't been half as bad as she'd imagined. Once you got past the whole Boswell issue, and the fact that they were all, in some way, clinically insane, they could all just be an ordinary family, and she found she'd liked them like this more than she'd expected to. But then again, she thought, looking at Joey, she should have learned that already.

'Right then,' said Joey, as soon as the door was shut, grabbing her round the waist and pinning her against the wall.

'Oi!'

'Gimme that kiss you promised,' Joey demanded, a pretend-lecherous grin on his face. 'I've waited long enough now.'

'You 'ad about five off me when we were in there,' she retorted, arching her neck so her head angled away from his.

'Yeah, but I had to steal those, sweetheart. It's not quite the same.'

'Stealing,' she tutted twice, 'not exactly good behaviour, is it, Mister Boswell?'

'Tormentin' our Adrian,' Joey mocked her, imitating the tsk-tsk noise, 'not exactly good behaviour, is it, Miss Martina?'

'Then neither of us deserve it,' she said, calling his bluff.

'Then perhaps we should bend the rules,' Joey honed in and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.

She turned back to face him, intending to shoot the suggestion down, but he looked so appealing, half of his face silhouetted against the darkened street, and she was still on a mild adrenaline high from having just done the one thing she'd been most nervous about.

'Well,' she sighed, putting on what would have been a convincing mask of reluctance, had it not been for the smirk, 'p'raps just this once.'

Joey swooped and captured her lips.

'But don't think you're gettin' away with misbehavin' every time,' she added, just as he was coming up for air.

He grinned. 'Let's go and celebrate.'

'Celebrate what?'

'Oh, everything, sunshine,' he cried in dramatic jubilation, pulling her away from the wall and spinning her around. 'Everything!'

'Well then, sweetheart,' Joey said later that night, the two of them curled on Martina's sofa with half-drunk glasses of wine, 'you've lived through my fam-i-ly.'

'I know,' Martina said, smiling at him, 'it feels very surreal.'

'Mam loved you, you know,' he put his arms around her and shook her lightly, hoping she realised the importance of that statement, 'loved you! I mean, she didn't admit it up front, but she did say when we were in the kitchen that you were 'nice enough'- and trust me, sweetheart, that comin' from her is practically a weddin' blessin'.'

'I like her, your mother- when you get past the shoutin', that is. She's decent, hardworking, honest for the most part…' she pretended to scrutinise him, 'can't see the family resemblance. It must skip a generation.'

Joey snickered. 'Well, I'm glad you got on with everyone, anyway. I was hoping you would…' his voice lowered a little, 'I was really hoping you would. If you hadn't, well…I don't know what I'd have done.'

'Well, I think your Jack wasn't exactly thrilled, was he…and I might have terrified your Billy and your Adrian…quite unintentionally of course,' she added at his raised eyebrows. Joey laughed again.

'Don't worry about them, sweetheart. It might take a while to get used to 'avin' a DHSS lady around the family, that's all.'

'Oh, they were all right. By the end of the evening your Billy was quite happy to tell me plenty of embarrassing things about you…'

That wiped the smile off the eldest Boswell's face. 'You're joking…oh, no.' He ran a hand through his blond coiffure. 'Such as?'

Martina let out a very uncharacteristic giggle. 'Never you mind. I'm savin' meself some ammunition fer the next time you infuriate me at work.' She raised her glass. 'Cheers.'

'To you, my angel.' Their glasses clinked.

'You know,' said Joey, settling back on the sofa and pulling her against his side, 'it just goes to show you really are an angel. Not many people manage to put up with- let alone get on with my family and manage to make a good impression.'

'Are you flattering me again?' a note of warning crept into her voice.

'Just reminding you of my undying love.' He turned his head to the side, kissing her cheek. 'Martina, can I ask you something?'

'Ask me what?' she shifted as well, so her face was quite close to his, and Joey had to move back, much as it killed him, because her close proximity was just making him want to kiss her, and he had something to say.

'Are you happy? With me, I mean?'

'Of course I am,' she said, taking his face in her hands and kissing him on the forehead. 'What's the matter? Not gettin' insecure, are you?'

'No, no,' he couldn't resist for much longer, he had to steal a quick kiss before he went on. 'I just think…well, I feel like I could stay with you forever and be perfectly content, sweetheart. Do you think, maybe…'

She furrowed her brow. 'Joey Boswell, what are you saying?'

He shrugged. 'Oh, nothing just yet. But…maybe, someday soon, in a little while…' he took her hands in his and laced fingers with her, 'well. You know.' He didn't quite finish the sentiment, but both of them had a reasonable idea of what he was trying to say.

Joey had made so many fake proposals over the course of their acquaintance, great, dramatic appeals that were meant as a joke. If he considered asking her for real, he wanted it to be sincere. And he wasn't going to do it just yet- it had only been six months, or thereabouts, but he did want her to know how he felt, that he was considering it, that it might be on the cards soon. And he wanted to know, in a covert, roundabout sort of way, the sort of answer he might be able to expect when he did.

Martina faced him full on, looking him in the eyes.

'You know what? I think I do know.'

It was strange, but he knew that the thought would have just annoyed her a few months ago. She wouldn't have thought it was serious- and if it so happened that it was, well, she would have been horrified. But now the idea he was putting across pleased her immensely. She wasn't the sort of person to go gushy and admit that that would make her happy- very happy indeed, and that, like he'd said, she thought she'd be content to stay with him indefinitely. So she said none of that, but her smile and her eyes conveyed everything Joey had hoped for. He slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer, and he felt her sigh as she settled her head against her shoulder.

'Dear little Money Angel.' He stroked her hair. 'Seems so long ago since I made up that name.'

'Mm.'

'If anyone'd told us at the time we'd be sittin' 'ere now…'

'I know.' She sighed again, running a hand over his shoulders. 'I think if anyone had tried, I'd 'ave 'ad 'em sectioned.'

Joey chuckled. 'You.'

'You know somethin'? I suppose I can't thank Mister Wilson enough, really.'

Joey tensed- he knew what she meant, but still, the thought of the trouble she'd been in on that night made him shudder nonetheless.

'It's 'is fault we're sittin' 'ere now,' she clarified, giving his shoulder a calming rub.

'I know, sweetheart, I know.' He didn't like to dwell on the fact that their whole relationship had been fraught with danger, but she did have a point. If Mister Wilson hadn't started throwing his weight about Martina wouldn't have run to him in the first place. And speaking of danger, Joey was suddenly reminded of another set of crooks, who Martina had somehow taken care of all on her own.

'You know what else? You never did tell me what you found on Yizzel's mate.'

'Oh, didn't I?' Martina reached into her pocket, withdrawing a business card and holding it out to him. Joey read the first line, and then collapsed into laughter.

'Is that 'im? Is that 'is name?' Joey snorted and snickered until he was out of breath, burying his face in her neck until his uncontrollable giggles had subsided. 'Fancy tryin' to be a gangster with a name like that! No wonder he never tells anyone- he'd never live it down! No-one would ever respect him!'

'Keep readin'. It gets better,' Martina pushed him off her, drawing his attention back to the card. 'Wait 'til you see what the job is!'

It took a full ten minutes for Joey to gather himself this time, his infectious laughter taking hold of Martina too. They held each other, sides aching, tears in their eyes from the hysteria and grinning like idiots.

'I s'pose Yizzel probably knows, though,' Joey mused after he'd found the composure to speak again, 'he'd have to, wouldn't he?'

'Yeah,' said Martina, in a perfect imitation of Yizzel. 'He'd have to.'

And that set them off again.