Warning: Episode may contain strong language, violence and sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

PREVIOUSLY…

• Nick and Jasmine’s engagement party got underway as a storm raged outside.
• Nick was shattered to learn that Julia and James weren’t his biological parents and that his actual parents were Julia’s late brother, Michael, and the new village doctor, Emma. Devastated, he drove off, unable to cope with the secret that everyone in his family knew.
• Having hired a P.I. to dig up dirt on Emma, Julia was shocked to learn that she had in fact conducted an affair with Paul, the man married to her husband’s sister.
• Jack and Lee’s marriage collapsed after Jack discovered that Lee was using Grindr for casual hookups as well as conducting an affair with someone called T.
• Having taken an accidental overdose at the party, Lee collapsed in the bathroom from a seizure. Jack later found him with a serious head injury resulting from the seizure, and an ambulance was called.
• James and Ben came upon the scene of Nick’s car crash. As the rain tumbled down, James dragged his adoptive son’s lifeless body from the car and frantically performed CPR on the roadside.

Family Waiting Room,
St. George’s Hospital, London

The family waiting room of St. George’s Hospital was as pleasant as a waiting room could be and, at a push, could almost pass for welcoming. The walls were painted a pale lemon yellow, while pleasing prints of landscapes, flora, and fauna were framed in white ash frames. Sofas and armchairs, all upholstered with the same sky-blue vinyl, were arranged in an awkward U shape, while a small television, fixed to the wall, showed BBC One’s rolling overnight simulcast of BBC News.

Julia Harrington-Jones, who had turned her armchair away from the others, sat in an almost catatonic state, staring out of the window with a plaid blanket – kindly supplied by the hospital – wrapped around her wet body. Her damp and dishevelled hair hung down over her mascara-stained face, while her one-of-a-kind midnight blue long-sleeve Alexander McQueen gown was muddied, wet, and ripped. It had been hours since the air ambulance had helicoptered her son, Nick, from the scene of his car accident to the major trauma hospital, and for Julia, each passing minute felt like an eternity. She blinked, watching rivulets of water run down the glass pane as the storm that had lashed them a few hours earlier subsided.

Her husband, James Harrington-Jones, sat on a sofa off in the distance, his face buried in his hands. His tailored Zegna suit was muddy and bloodstained after he had tried frantically to save Nick’s life by performing CPR. James’ fingers occasionally twitched as memories of the past few hours played on repeat in his mind and the ghosts of 2007 whispered in his ears. While he hadn’t noticed it at the time, the location of Nick’s car accident was also the exact spot where the vehicles of Michael Bancroft and Jennifer Sinclair had collided seventeen years earlier and where James himself had delivered the fatal blows that ended Jennifer’s life. A nausea rose within him as he remembered the sickening cracks the wheel wrench made as it connected with his ex-lover’s skull – a step he felt necessary in order to stop her from telling Julia the truth about their affair and Jennifer’s subsequent pregnancy – and the sight of Michael, Julia’s brother, lying dead on the side of the road.

Across from them, Ben Granger paced back and forth with restless energy while Emma Blake, Nick’s biological mother, sat silently in an armchair. When she had received the phone call from Ben that Nick had been involved in an accident, her world had stopped, and now, sat in her wet and ruined red sequined gown, with her hair and makeup a mess, Emma couldn’t help but feel responsible for the events that had transpired. She should have told Nick the truth sooner; she should have found a way to explain things to him properly and to make him understand, but instead, she had capitulated to Julia and now faced losing another son. She glanced at the clock on the wall. 02:13.

In the corner of the room, Jasmine Atkins, Nick’s fiancée, sat silently in an armchair, her eyes trained on the small television but not taking in the images on the screen. Her perfect night, the night that everyone was supposed to celebrate her engagement to Glendale’s most eligible bachelor, had ended in disaster. Not only did she face the prospect of losing the love of her life, but her brother, Lee, was also fighting for his life after overdosing at the party. Jasmine pressed the side button on her iPhone, and the screen illuminated as she looked for an update on Lee’s condition from her parents. There was none. No text message, no Messenger message, and no WhatsApp message. She let the screen return to black and looked back at the television.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

A&E Waiting Room,
Medway Maritime Hospital, Kent

Under the bright fluorescent lights of the A&E waiting room, Jack Campbell looked pale and unwell as he sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair. While the world swirled around him in a blur of movement and muffled sound, the police sergeant stared at his blood-stained hands. He had already tried three times to scrub them clean, but no matter how much soap he used or how hard he scrubbed, the remnants of the blood from his husband’s head remained.

Across from Jack, Ed and Marion Atkins sat silently, awaiting news on their son. While Ed stared blankly at the TV fixed to the wall and drummed his anxious fingers against the chair, Marion clutched a crumpled tissue, rubbing it between her fingertips as if it could absorb her worry and anxiety.

Winnie Atkins, Ed’s mother, held a hand over her mouth and let out a long yawn as she sat beside them, watching the TV. BBC One had been on a loop of simulcast headlines from the BBC News Channel, but she hadn’t absorbed any of it. Her mind was elsewhere, lost in a chaotic whirl of worry and fear for her grandson and her granddaughter’s fiancé.

Usually the composed and steadfast one in their marriage, Marion couldn’t help but catastrophise in her mind, while Ed remained calm and optimistic that Lee would be fine.

“Did you know about his drug problem?” Marion asked, breaking the heavy silence as she shifted her gaze ever so slightly towards Jack.

Her son-in-law, pulled from his thoughts by her question, shifted uncomfortably in his seat and let out a long, deep exhale of breath before leaning back and shaking his head. “No,” Jack replied. “I mean, years ago he dabbled; we both did, but we haven’t for nearly six or seven years now. Or so I thought.”

“This isn’t the place for this,” Ed said as he placed the palms of his hands on his knees and pushed himself off the hard plastic seat. He stretched, trying to relieve some of the built-up tension in his body, and glanced at his watch. 02:34.

Marion’s eyes followed her husband as he paced back and forth before moving across the room towards the vending machine to consider its wares. “I’m just trying to understand.”

Ed didn’t dignify her with a response while Winnie could feel the thick tension simmering between her son and daughter-in-law. She clasped her hands together, bowed her hand, and began to silently pray.

“Has there been any update about Nick?” Jack asked softly.

Marion checked her phone for what felt like the four hundredth time that night and shook her head as a resigned sigh escaped her lips. “No. I don’t imagine we’ll hear much for a few hours yet, unless…

As Marion’s voice trailed off, reality settled heavily over the family. She didn’t have to say it. They all knew the prospect of Nick making a full recovery was slim at best.

The waiting room door opened, and a young nurse appeared. “Atkins?” she called out as she scanned the few people scattered about.

Marion practically flew towards the blonde-haired woman, who was all of five feet if she stretched. “Yes, that’s us. How is he? How’s Lee?”

The nurse’s mouth tightened into a line, and her eyes suddenly seemed to become sympathetic. “If you’d like to come with me.”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Meadow Hall,
Glendale

In the lavish drawing room of Meadow Hall – a palatial Renaissance-style country home made of sandstone that closely resembled Harwick Hall in Derbyshire – Paul Halifax sat in a grand yet rather uncomfortable Chesterfield armchair, tracing the rim of his whisky glass. The nights events played on a constant loop in his mind while the rhythmic ticking of the large and somewhat ostentatious mantel clock provided a soundtrack to his thoughts. Unexpectedly seeing Emma, his former colleague and mistress, at the engagement party had sent a jolt through his body, as had hearing the revelation that she was Nick’s biological mother. Paul struggled to process his thoughts. He wondered how long Emma had known, and doubt began to creep in. Had she just used him the whole time in a bid to get closer to the family and to his nephew?

The heavy door creaked open as Victoria, his wife, slipped into the room, wrapped in a dressing gown, and closed the door behind her with a soft click. Her voluminous blonde curls were pulled back into a ponytail, and the robe, tied loosely at her waist, matched her navy silk pyjamas with white piping, completing the cute three-piece set.

“How is she?” Paul asked with genuine concern as he watched Victoria move across the room towards the antique kidney-shaped mahogany and glass drinks cabinet and pour herself a small brandy.

Victoria took in a sharp breath, held it for a moment as she rolled her head around to stretch her neck, before letting it out in a long, slow exhale. “Asleep,” she replied as she turned, took a sip of the drink, and walked over to the armchair next to her husband’s. “It took a couple of sleeping pills and a stiff drink, but she’s finally down. Although, for how long, is anyone’s guess?”

The events of the evening had taken a significant toll on Hazel Harrington-Jones. The revelation that her grandson, Nick, wasn’t in fact her grandson at all had left her deeply shocked and troubled. But the car accident that now saw him fighting for his life had almost done her in. The normally composed and statuesque woman, feared by many and loved by few, had cracked and spiralled into what could only be described as a hysterical turn. It had taken Victoria hours to calm her, but now finally, her mother was sleeping, and Victoria could try and digest the night’s drama.

She swirled the brandy in her balloon glass and chewed on her bottom lip. The revelation that Emma Blake was Nick’s mother had sparked something inside Victoria. She recognised the name and the face but just couldn’t place it. She turned her head to cast an eye in Paul’s direction.

“Who is this Emma Blake woman?” She asked with a cocked eyebrow and a tight mouth. “There’s something so awfully familiar about her.”

Paul shrugged as guilt gnawed at him. “I don’t know,” he lied. “Maybe she just has one of those faces?”

Victoria could tell he was lying. After nearly thirty years of marriage, she could read her husband like a book. “Mmm,” she hummed with pursed lips and a glare so narrow her eyes were almost closed. “I guess that must be it.”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Pineview House,
Glendale

Mark Sinclair entered the living room of Pineview House carrying two steaming mugs of tea. His face was tired, and as he moved carefully, he clenched his jaw and fought off a yawn. The night seemed to crawl along at a snail’s pace.

“Here. Drink this,” he said, setting one cup down on the coffee table in front of his wife, Charlotte, who reclined on the sofa, her head held up against her hand as she stared blankly into the distance, wondering if the night had been nothing but a horrible dream. Mark settled into the armchair opposite and took a cautious sip from his own tea.

Charlotte looked up, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she picked up the mug. “Thanks,” she murmured, wrapping her fingers around the cup and allowing the heat from the tea to seep into her hands. “What if he doesn’t survive?”

The question hung in the air as Charlotte voiced what many in the village were thinking.

“Hey, don’t talk like that,” Mark replied, trying to reassure his wife but finding his own thoughts shifting in the same direction. “Nick is strong. He’ll pull through.”

“Will he, though? From what James said, I—”

“Don’t think like that. You can’t.”

Charlotte sighed deeply and took a sip of her tea. The blend of Darjeeling, sweetened by one artificial sweetener and a dash of milk, just the way she liked it, burnt her mouth slightly, but she was too tired to care. “I should be there.”

“You can’t do anything, Lottie.”

“But he’s my nephew!” Charlotte paused as she remembered the truth. “Actually, I guess he isn’t.”

Mark sat his mug of tea down on the coffee table and moved to Charlotte’s side, setting himself on the arm of the sofa. He wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders and pulled her in tight, kissing the top of her head as he did. “Of course he is. He is and always will be.”

Charlotte shook her head, and it rubbed against Mark’s chest. “No. He’s not. He’s the son of Michael and Emma. He’s…”

Mark bristled at the name of the man who caused his wife’s death back in 2007 but tried to push it from his mind. “Hey, listen to me,” he began as he rubbed Charlotte’s arm in a bid to comfort her. “Nick is going to come through this. I know it. And James and Julia are his parents; they’ve raised him, and that’s all that matters.”

Charlotte sighed again. She didn’t believe Mark, but she couldn’t be bothered with a conversation that just went round in circles, not at this time of night.

“Did you get a chance to talk to Julia?” She asked, changing tack as she sat up and took another sip of tea.

“Briefly. She said Natalie hasn’t been blackmailing her, but I could tell she was lying.”

An idea suddenly struck in Charlotte’s mind. “You don’t think Natalie knew about Nick, do you?” she asked, looking back at Mark with a cocked brow. “I mean, what else could she have over them?”

“I don’t know. But that makes sense logically. She was blackmailing Julia, not James, so what else could it be?”

Charlotte pondered her husband’s question for a moment. “What are we going to do?”

Mark ran his lips together and stiffened. “The only thing we can do,” he began as he turned his head towards Charlotte. “We’re going to have to confront her about it.”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Family Waiting Room,
St. George’s Hospital, London

The tension in the family waiting room had only increased with each passing minute, and as 3 AM approached, the air was so heavy it was almost suffocating.

Julia rose from the uncomfortable armchair that she had occupied for the best part of five hours and allowed the plaid blanket to fall from her shoulders. She pressed her hands against the small of her back, stretched, rolled her neck, and let out a long, deep exhale that caught everyone’s attention.

“Can you all give Emma and me a couple of minutes, please?” She requested as she turned and faced the others.

While Jasmine and James obliged without question, Ben looked to Emma with concern. He knew what Julia was capable of, and this request filled him with high anxiety and deep dread.

“Go. I’ll be fine,” Emma replied with a look of confusion that she tried unsuccessfully to hide.

Against his better judgement, Ben kissed Emma softly on the lips and rose from his chair. “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”

Emma squeezed his hand in thanks and smiled, grateful to have his love and acceptance on this, the worst night of her life.

Julia stood in front of the small window, ramrod straight and exuding her usual air of authority. Her shoulders were squared, and her jaw was tight. As Ben exited and the door closed shut with a click, her fierce, unflinching glare zeroed in on Emma with the precision of the first missile fired in battle. “How long have you been planning to destroy this family?” she asked with a tone so caustic it could strip paint.

Emma’s brow furrowed, and she felt her heart instantly begin to thump with an anxious irregularity. “Sorry?”

“I won’t repeat myself, Emily.”

The use of the name Emma had long ago abandoned was designed to hurt, and it did. Emma tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. As the room crackled with the beginnings of a storm, Emma realised this was the final showdown she had long feared. She rose to her feet, refusing to be intimidated. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Julia.”

Julia pursed her lips, unwilling to play games any longer. “I know about you and Paul,” she began as she crossed her arms and settled in for a duel that would settle the score once and for all and expose Emma for the manipulative and deceitful woman she truly was. “The job. The affair. The baby.”

Emma felt the walls closing in on her. Somehow Julia knew the truth; she could tell from the almost murderous glint in her eye.

“You know, that evening in your cottage, when you told me about Alex, I actually felt incredibly sorry for you.” Julia began with a tone so cold and devoid of any emotion it sent a shiver down Emma’s spine. “To lose a baby… well, there aren’t the words to describe the pain, the suffering, the absolute soul-destroying crush that you feel when that little light goes out. Believe me, I know.”

Julia paused as, for a fleeting moment in time, her thoughts shifted to the five miscarriages she had suffered throughout her marriage to James. The one thing she had so desperately wanted, a child of her own, had been cruelly denied to her each time. It was why she agreed to the idea of raising Nick as her own and why she clutched on to him so protectively.

“But to lie about such a traumatic thing. Well, that’s just pure evil.”

Emma shook her head in defiance, refusing to allow Julia’s poisonous words to drip into her ears. The accusation that she would lie about something as awful and horrific as giving birth to a stillborn caused a fury to bubble within and it threatened to erupt. “I never lied about Alex.”

Julia raised an eyebrow, and her lips twitched. “No. But you didn’t tell the truth, did you, Emily? I know Alex was Paul’s son and not your husband’s. I’ve seen the messages.”

“The messages?”

“The texts. The WhatsApps. The emails. All of it. I know about your little breakdown and stay in a mental hospital. I know that after you got out, you messaged Paul on Tinder. I know you sought out a relationship with him. I know you had an affair. I know you fell pregnant to him, and I know you used him to get at this family.”

Emma felt the sand shift beneath her feet. The way Julia so cruelly lobbed facts at her like they were hand grenades hurt, as did the fact she seemed to be relishing in Emma’s misfortune and the troubled life she had thus far endured.

“And I know you saw him last week.”

“You had me followed?” Emma stammered astounded. She suddenly remembered Ben’s warning from a few days ago to never trust Julia, and she now cursed herself for being so gullible. “You’re sick. It’s not how you’re making it out to be.”

Julia could sense victory was within her grasp. She licked her lips to moisten them, allowed her arms to fall freely to her side, and moved across the room towards Emma with a malevolent motion. “It never is with you, is it, Emily?” She hissed through gritted teeth. “You’re always the victim of circumstance. But you know what? I see you for who you really are, the villain of this tale. You sought out Paul to use him.”

“No.”

“You sought out Paul to use him to get to Nick.”

“Julia, I—”

“You sought out Paul to hunt us down and destroy this family.”

Emma paused for a moment and let Julia’s accusation settle over her.

“Admit it!” Julia’s eyes narrowed further still. “I’ve seen the evidence, Emily.”

With a deep exhale, Emma looked back at Julia slowly from under her brow. “I wanted to watch you crash and burn.”

A gleeful smile that also appeared somewhat sinister slinked across Julia’s face. “Ah, there she is,” she crowed with satisfaction. “There’s the Emily we all know and hate.”

Emma could no longer pretend. She could no longer play nice. She allowed the anger and hurt that boiled away inside her to gush towards the surface. “You destroyed my life, Julia,” she barked with ferocity as she jabbed a pointed finger into Julia’s shoulder, moving her slightly. “I was just a girl. A seventeen-year-old girl up against two rich and powerful women. You and your bitch of a mother stole my son from me, and you just got on with life as if it were nothing but a simple business transaction or another designer purchase. You went on living your best life in your privileged world raising my son, and what did I get, huh?” Emma stepped forward and forced Julia to take a step back. The movement, almost like a beautiful pasodoble, saw Julia backed into a corner while Emma bayed for blood. “A lifelong battle with addiction. A life of mental health battles and self-destructive behaviour, in and out of psych wards and mental health clinics. And when times were good, like when I married David and got my medical degree, I had to destroy it because that’s just what I do. You cast a shadow across my whole life, Julia, and you don’t even care. You have no remorse, no guilt, nothing. You simply don’t care.”

For the first time, Julia felt threatened. She glanced towards the door, knowing the others were just on the other side, but her body refused to cooperate and remained mute.

“Did you ever think about me? When Judith came up with this plan, did you ever stop and think about how I would feel or what it would do to me?”

Julia looked at Emma in silence.

“Or were you just too selfish and wrapped up in your own wants and needs?” Emma said with a tight snarl and an even tighter glare. “Each night when Nick would scream as an infant, did you wonder if he was crying out for his mother, his real mother, or did you just delude yourself that that’s just what babies do? Each birthday and Christmas, did you wonder where I was or how I was doing?” Emma scoffed, amused by her own ramblings. “Of course you didn’t. Because that’s not you, is it, Julia? You don’t care about others. You’re not compassionate. You’re nothing but a miserable, toxic, cold-hearted old cow who only thinks about herself. It didn’t even cross your mind that I tracked you down because I wanted to see my son, to get to know my son. No, you instantly assumed I was out to destroy you and your family. Yes, there was a part of me that wanted to tear it all down and make you suffer like you’ve made me suffer all these years, but mainly, I just wanted to see Nick. You poison everything you touch, Julia, so I wanted to make sure that your disgusting toxicity hadn’t leeched into my son.”

Julia scowled, refusing to give up without a fight. “I’ve seen the messages.”

Emma began to pace back and forth as her stomach churned and her nerve endings fired. “Yeah, the messages that you paid someone to find,” she snapped. “The messages that you illegally obtained. The messages that I have no doubt you so gleefully read over a bottle of Dom Pérignon or some other wanky bullshit wine that you buy to convince yourself that you’re better than everyone else.”

Julia watched in silence as Emma picked up pace. She seemed almost unhinged, and it scared Julia into subordination.

“You want answers? Fine, I’ll give you answers,” Emma said as she began a frenzied rapid fire of questions and answers, spoken at a lick, that left Julia struggling to keep up or catch her breath. “Am I an addict? Yes. Fact. Am I, or have I ever been a prostitute? No. Lie. So, feel free to scratch that one from your playbook. Did I recognise Paul on the app? Yes, from a photo Michael had with him at one of those stupid golf days your mother made him go to. Did I seek out Paul? Yes. Did I know he was married? Yes. Did I deliberately set out to have an affair with him? No. I wanted to get close to him in order to get closer to Nick. Did I fall in love with him? Yes. Did I fall pregnant to him? Yes. Did I destroy my marriage and break David’s heart when I told him the truth? Yes, and I regret it every day. Are we still having an affair? No. It ended nearly a year ago. Did I see him last week? Yes, at a hotel in Maidstone, because it was the one-year anniversary of our son’s death. Did I set out to destroy your family? No. But did I set out to destroy you? Abso-fucking-lutely. I wanted to hurt you, Julia, just like you and Judith hurt me. But, do you know what, and this is the really fucked up part.” Emma let out a chuckle that was almost manic. “I actually grew to like you,” she said, shaking her head as she broke down in a fit of giggles. “How fucked up is that, huh? That night at my house, when we talked and you told me about Michael dying, something shifted. I saw you. Not the Julia that you put on, the Julia that you want everyone to see and believe, but the real Julia. The real you. Then you gave me that photo of Michael and me and said we would tell Nick the truth together, as his mothers, and I… I realised that underneath that horrible exterior there actually is a scrap of humanity and decency.”

Emma stopped and gave herself time to breathe. She turned her head to Julia and could see what appeared to be tears pooling in her eyes. The sight caught Emma off guard. It was as if she had somehow reached into Julia’s chest and revived the flaccid muscle that she once called a heart. Emma cleared her throat, and her temper began to cool.

“I see now that you were just playing me and stringing me along until you got the answers from whoever it is you paid to dig up dirt on me, because let’s be honest, you’re too clever and privileged to get your own hands dirty,” Emma continued. “You never planned to tell Nick the truth. I get that. I see that now. But still, even now, as I stand here looking at you in that state, I can see the glimmer of a decent person. The faint flickers of a woman who, at her core, is kind and loving and decent. You’re just like me, Julia, damaged by forces that we encountered when we were younger. Crushed by a domineering mother. The only difference is that while I crumbled and sought out comfort from destructive vices, you closed your heart and soul to the world. It was easier for you to turn to stone. And that’s why I pity you, Julia. Because while I’ve lived a fucked-up life and made some horribly stupid, destructive, and reckless decisions, at least I’ve lived. Whereas you… you’ve merely existed in this purgatory that you’ve created for yourself. You’ve spent the last twenty-five years constantly looking over your shoulder, wondering when the day would arrive that Nick discovered the truth. Well, that day is here, Julia, and what have you got to show for it?”

Julia stood in a stupefied silence, unable to form a sentence or a coherent thought. She watched as Emma slumped down into an armchair with a deep, weary exhale of breath and picked at a sequin on her now ruined gown. The silence that had settled over them stretched into minutes, and as Julia came around, she moved to the armchair beside Emma’s.

“You’re right,” she said as she lowered herself as if she were a queen sitting on a throne. “I have nothing to show for it. For twenty-five years I have fought to protect Nicky from the truth, and yet here we are. What was it all for? What did I achieve besides hurting the only person I truly love?”

“Besides yourself, you mean,” Emma replied, unable to help herself from firing off the childish remark as she leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees, and interlocked her fingers.

Julia copped it on the chin and sucked in her lips as if she were sucking on a lolly. “You’re right. I am everything you said I am. I don’t mean to be, but I am.”

Emma turned her head slightly to catch a glimpse of Julia’s expression to see if it was genuine. It was. The formidable woman stared downcast into her lap as she picked at the nailbed of her thumb with her index finger, an anxious tell Emma had come to recognise.

“I only ever wanted what was best for Nicky,” Julia continued with a tone that sounded as if she was lost in some far-off land in her mind. “I hope you can see that. I always did what was best for him, or, should I say, what I believed was best for him. I know I should’ve been stronger and stood up to my mother more, but I only ever did what I thought was best at the time.”

“You did an amazing job, Julia. But now maybe it’s time you take a back seat and let Nick decide what’s best for himself.”

Julia wiped away a tear that threatened to break free and betray her cold-hearted façade. She sucked in her lips and nodded, unable to say the words but agreeing.

Another long silence settled over the two women.

“As much as I want to hate you, I can’t,” Julia said with a reserved softness that broke the silence and caught Emma’s attention. “I can’t deny what you’ve achieved and everything you’ve had to overcome, Emma. It is impressive, and of those achievements, you should be proud. We’ll never see eye to eye, nor will we be friends, and I don’t think I will ever trust you, especially after what has transpired with Paul, but I don’t hate you, Emma. Of that, you can be certain.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and turned her head skywards. “Michael loved you. He saw the goodness in you. A goodness that my mother and I destroyed, and for that I am sorry. I hope in time we can forgive each other for the grievances on both sides, for Nicky’s sake if nothing else.”

Emma felt her eyes begin to burn with tears, and her mouth twitched as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. “I hope so,” she managed to choke out. “I’m sorry too.”

The door to the waiting room opened, and a handsome doctor entered. Instinctively, Julia and Emma rose to their feet and looked in his direction, their pleading eyes willing him to give them an update that wouldn’t break their hearts and fracture their fragile truce.

“I’m Doctor Carter,” the man, who appeared in his late thirties, replied with a stern expression. “Which one of you is Nick’s mother?”

Without hesitation, Julia squared her shoulders, lifted her head, took a deep breath, and then took Emma’s hand in hers.

The move took Emma by surprise, and she blinked back at Julia slightly slack-jawed.

“We both are,” Julia said with her usual resonant voice, disguising the terror churning inside her as she met the doctor’s gaze head on. “We are Nick’s mothers.”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Room 11, Ward 5D,
Medway Maritime Hospital, Kent

At Lee’s bedside, Marion sat in a chair and watched her son sleep. It had been an awful few hours, and she was exhausted beyond belief, but now, knowing that Lee was going to be okay, she could allow her anxiety levels to lower a little. Although the doctors had warned that the laceration to the back of Lee’s head would take some time to heal and they would need to keep him in for a few days to ensure there were no complications or injury to the brain, Marion could allow herself to breathe.

Stood at her side, Ed looked at Lee and couldn’t help but think how close they had come to losing him. He rested a hand on Marion’s shoulder and was grateful when she reciprocated his touch, welcoming his show of support and love. Their marriage, like Lee and Jack’s, had suffered through a few tense weeks, but Ed could feel that over the past few hours there had been a shift, and there now seemed to be hope where there wasn’t before.

Winnie, struggling to stay awake in her chair, noticed the small acceptance of affection and smiled.

On the opposite side, Jack sat with his elbows on the edge of the bed and their fingers interlocked as he stroked the back of Lee’s hand with his thumb. It had been an emotional few days as Jack grappled with the knowledge that not only was Lee having an affair with a man he refused to name, but also that he was using Grindr for hookups on the side. The revelations had all but ended their marriage, but, having seen Lee convulsing on the floor in the guest bathroom of Ashbourne House, and now, sitting at his hospital bedside, Jack couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was a small chance that their marriage could survive after all.

“I should be with Jasmine,” Marion said as she allowed her focus to switch from her son to her daughter. She had felt torn between her children but had ultimately decided to head to the hospital with Lee. While Jasmine had said it was fine, Marion couldn’t help but feel she had abandoned her daughter in her hour of need.

“I’ll head over there shortly,” Ed replied. “In the meantime, Ben and Emma will look after her.”

Marion sighed as if she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. “That name. This is all my fault.”

Jack glanced over at her, while Ed frowned heavily and shook his head.

“How?” he asked.

“If I hadn’t had hired her as the new doctor, then none of this would’ve happened.”

“Oh, come on now, you know that’s not true,” Ed muttered in his usual deep tone. “Nothing can keep a mother from her child. So, whether you had hired her or not, Emma still would’ve ended up in Glendale looking for her son.”

Marion ran a hand over her mouth as she tried to process the chaotic thoughts that polluted her mind. “I just feel so guilty. If something happens to Nick, then I’ll never forgive myself. He’s like a son to us, that boy, and I—”

Jack reached across the bed and placed a hand on his mother-in-law’s in a show of support and love. “Marion, you have nothing to feel guilty about. You weren’t to know.”

“To ease your mind, I’ll go and call Jasmine and get an update. I’ll be back in a minute.”

As Ed left the room to make the call, Marion looked at Jack and smiled. “Thank you for being here.”

Jack frowned, slightly puzzled at Marion’s statement. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, after what’s happened with your marriage, I didn’t know if—”

“Let’s not worry about that now,” Jack replied as he returned his attention to his husband and squeezed his hand in a silent plea for him to open his eyes. “Lee needs me, and right now, there’s no where else I’d rather be.”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Meadow Hall,
Glendale

In one of the many guest rooms of Meadow Hall, Paul and Victoria had finally retired to bed. The night had been long, and as the minutes ticked closer to dawn, Paul lay wide awake, staring at the shadows cast against the ceiling from the slight crack in the curtains. He was restless, his mind racing with thoughts about Emma, their affair, and their son born sleeping. Previously, he had convinced himself that keeping matters of the heart separate from his marriage would be easy, but now, knowing the truth about Emma and how closely interlinked she was with his own family, he couldn’t escape the dread that was consuming him.

Lying on her side with her back turned to her husband, Victoria was wide awake, although her gentle breathing would have you think otherwise. The name Emma Blake swirled in her head as she tried desperately to grasp hold of the slippery piece of information that seemed just out of reach.

Conceding defeat, Paul sat up slowly, careful not to disturb Victoria, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Dressed only in a pair of trunks, he took his phone from the nightstand, unplugged the charging cable, rose to his feet, and pulled on a pair of track pants and a t-shirt before tiptoeing softly through the darkened room as the wooden floor creaked under his weight. Reaching the door, he grasped the brass doorhandle and looked back over his shoulder to check Victoria was undisturbed. Her curly, long blonde hair was splayed across the pillow, and there was no sign she was awake.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Pineview House,
Glendale

In the stillness of the early morning and unable to sleep due to her worries about Nick, Charlotte sat alone on the couch in the living room. The only light came from the soft glow of the lamp beside her, which cast a warm, golden hue across the room. On the coffee table was a small box that she usually kept hidden away in the loft and a scatter of old photographs. She picked up a photo and looked at the image from 2007 as a soft smile danced on her lips. The snapshot was of her and Michael in bed together, wrapped in each other’s arms on that fateful September day seventeen years ago. Charlotte traced the outlines of their smiles with her fingers and wondered what life would have been like had Michael not been so cruelly snatched away from her. With a resigned sigh, she looked to the heavens and whispered softly, “Goodnight, Mikie.”

-:-

Upstairs, Mark lay wide awake in bed, his gaze fixed on the bright screen of his iPhone. The image displayed was a cherished photograph of his late wife, Jennifer, and her radiant smile made him, in turn, smile. Mark’s heart ached as he looked at the woman who had been taken from him too soon, and, while he missed Jennifer, deep down, he knew the only way forward was to find some way to forgive Michael for the accident and move on. Mark made a silent vow to himself to forgive Jennifer’s killer – if only he knew he was forgiving the wrong man.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Meadow Hall,
Glendale

Paul moved through Meadow Hall in silence, navigating the shadowy corridors of the stately home before he reached the kitchen, where he made his way to the back door, which led out to a secluded patio. He unlocked it, stepped out into the cool and crisp night air, and pulled the door shut, leaving it open just a crack so he wouldn’t lock himself out. Removing his phone from the pocket of his track pants, Paul took a deep breath and dialled the number he had come to know too well. The phone rang a few times before it went to voicemail.

“Hey, it’s me,” Paul began in a hushed voice that almost added a sultriness to his already dulcet tones. “I know I shouldn’t be calling, but I wanted to see how you were doing. Tonight, that was a lot to take in. I can’t stop thinking about everything and about you.” He ran a hand through his dark hair and tried, not for the first time that night, to not think about what life could be like with her. “I know they’re just words, but Nick will be okay. He’s strong. He’ll survive this, I know it. Anyway, I should stop rambling. I hope we can talk soon because I miss you, Emma, and I still love you. Okay, call me. Bye.”

On the other side of the back door, Victoria stood quietly and listened intently. Her heart ached with each word she heard, and, as Paul’s betrayal became real, Victoria suddenly remembered where she had heard Emma’s name before.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Family Waiting Room,
St. George’s Hospital, London

Julia, James, Jasmine, Ben, and Emma huddled around Doctor Carter, awaiting an update on Nick’s condition.

“So?” James asked, suddenly alert after yet another hit of caffeine. “How is he?”

The pensive look on Doctor Carter’s face worried Julia greatly, and, when he took in a long inhale of breath, she steeled herself for the worst. It wasn’t good news. Her mother’s instinct had kicked in, and she knew that the road ahead wasn’t going to be a happy one.

“Nick is in a very serious condition,” Doctor Carter began as he looked at each person in turn, his eyes barely resting on them for a second before he moved on to the next. “He has suffered a cardiac arrest.”

“Oh God,” Julia clamped a hand to her mouth, and she felt James hold her up as her knees buckled beneath her.

Jasmine stared at Doctor Carter, steadfast in her belief that Nick would be fine. But beside her, Ben looked worried. He had watched enough “Casualty” to know that this wasn’t a good sign.

“We managed to stabilise him. Nick has sustained a number of serious internal injuries, and we did have to rush him into theatre to remove his spleen. He also has some swelling of the brain and has lost a fair amount of blood. Also, as we don’t know how long he went without oxygen, so, we have serious concerns about the affect this has had on his brain and his cognitive function.”

Emma felt Ben’s arm around her as she struggled to process what she was hearing. While her medical training had prepared her for the worst and she was accustomed to delivering bad news – as accustomed as one could be to such a thing – hearing it in person was awful. She felt the breath be pushed from her lungs as Doctor Carter delivered blow after blow.

“For now, Nick is in an induced coma,” Doctor Carter continued. “He’s stable, but I can’t stress enough how critical the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours are. Nick’s not out of the woods yet. But if he can make it through the next couple of days, then he stands a good chance of making some sort of recovery.”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Room 11, Ward 5D,
Medway Maritime Hospital, Kent

The world came back to Lee in fractured pieces – distant sounds, vague sensations, and a heavy, throbbing pain in his head – as he gradually became aware of his surroundings, the pale blue curtain pulled around his bed, the sterile atmosphere, and the harsh strip lighting overhead that was too bright, forcing him to squint against the glare.

A familiar and reassuring voice cut through the haze.

“Hey, here he is,” Jack said softly with a smile as he stroked his husband’s hair, happy he was awake.

Lee managed to turn his head slightly, his vision still blurry but gradually focussing on the figure sitting beside his bed. “Tom?”

“No, it’s…” Jack’s voice trailed as his smile soured and his strokes slowed to a stop. It was in that moment that Jack realised that Lee’s lover was Tom Spencer.

NEXT TIME…

• Neha’s life crumbles.
• Charlotte makes a shocking discovery.
• Judith is honest with Julia.
• Kate searches for answers.