Oh my word its another chapter! I know, I'm as shocked as you are. Its really late, and I'm never going to wake up on time tomorrow morning and there is probably a hundred mistakes in here BUT its a chapter right? Anyway, no Richobel here, but I did get to explore some different characters, one of which did not turn out how I thought she would. Please enjoy!

Isobel was bored. She was eight days into her forced holiday to Beryl and she was about to go stir crazy.

Elsie had been right, it was nice to get away from the office, and the holiday was appreciated. She had enjoyed the few days not having to wear heels, and worry that her hair looked absolutely tidy. It had been nice to wake up late, and not have to worry about traffic and stockings. It had been nice having someone to talk to in the evenings.

But now she was tired of it, and wanted to get back to work.

She had spent the first few nights staying up late to chat to Beryl, the two of them getting up to all sorts of mischief with various board games, which started out innocent but soon turned into a gossip fest about their mutual acquaintances. However, Beryl was out at the restaurant for most of the day, and had flat out refused when Isobel offered to come, spouting some nonsense about Isobel needing some peace and quiet in a suspiciously Elsie like tone. It had suited Isobel for the first few days, it left her free to potter around without constantly trying to be the perfect guest, while Beryl made a vague attempt to be the perfect host, all the while swearing under her breath at the mismatched pillow cases she had managed to dig up.

Isobel had even gone to see a movie with Daisy. She had known the young girl for almost ten years, but she had never really had a chance to get to know her. It had surprised her that the quiet and shy girl was actually extremely clever, and she had enjoyed their evening together immensely. But Daisy was at the resteraunt most of the time as well, and Isobel didn't know anyone else in the area to talk to. She had never been the sort of person to go out and chat to strangers. Her mother had often told her that that was the reason she had so few friends. Isobel had argued that at least all her friends were real, to which her mother had scoffed and Isobel had flounced away and slammed her bedroom door. Although, as she wandered through Beryl's flat, looking for something to do, she was beginning to see that her mother didn't have so many friends for the sake of friendship, but more for the reason of having something to do.

She had read the three books she had brought with her, guessing the endings on all three currently long before the endings actually occurred. She walked around the block once a day, taking in the slight change of scenery. Beryl had a large oak tree at the end of her street which Isobel was particulary partial too, but eventually even that was beginning to seem mundane. There were only so many walks one could take though, so eventually Isobel had returned to her temporary home, and reread on of Beryl's magazines.

It was a small flat Beryl lived in, simple with a bedroom, a tiny spare bedroom that doubled as an office, a kitchen, bathroom and lounge. She wondered if Beryl would be offended if she rearranged her books for her into alphabetical order, but decided that it would come across as rather rude. She spent a few minutes putting the Cluedo set that was still left out from the night before away, and tucked it neatly away in the cupboard she thought Beryl had pulled it out from.

Isobel was not one to go through other peoples stuff, she had always had a healthy respect for privacy, even as a child. But Beryl had little more than cook books on her shelves, and the odd sappy romance novels that Isobel refused point blank to read, so she continued to poke through the cupboard. There was an old knitting magazine, that Isobel could not imagine Beryl having ever had a use for, an empty box of chocolates, and a stack of DVDs. Isobel sat back on her haunches and sighed. It wasn't the ideal way to spend her day, but at least she wouldn't be bored to tears. She started to flick through the titles, getting more and more despondent. She found a few Disney movies, some more romance, a couple of seasons of various legal shows, and the complete collection of Greys Anatomy.

She hated legal shows, and she had seen Frozen more times than she could count. She considered Greys, but decided that she really wasn't in the mood to watch a show about good looking doctors. Frowning, she straightened up and glanced at her laptop which was lying on the coffee table.

Yesterday she had even considered trying to get some work done, figuring Elsie would never know if she replied to a few emails, did a few drafts. It was quiet here, so she would be able to get a lot done without any interruptions. It had taken her all of three minutes to figure out that Elsie had somehow managed to lock her out of the work system, and had sworn violently. That woman had always known her too well.

Shooting daggers at her laptop she lay down on the couch, and watched the clock as it ticked by. She wondered if Sybil was back at work, or if she had taken more time off. She ought to get her a gift. Perhaps tomorrow she would walk down to the shops and find her something.

Isobel snorted to herself. She doubted there was anything in any shop that she could get Sybil to apologize for what she had done.

She contemplated phoning her sister. They hadn't spoken in months, never had anything to discuss anyway, but at least it would be something to do. Her sister and her were like chalk and cheese, and had never had much in common once they had grown up. Her sister had married a banker, and lived a dull life with three children who constantly seemed to be at after school activities. Laura was head of various mothers meetings, and spent her life hosting teas and going shopping. Conversation between the two sisters always felt very false and forced. Each would ask about the other, and Isobel would listen politely while Laura complained about something happening in her life. It usually took about half an hour, especially when Isobel was forced to say a few words to the kids and the husband, and was therefore she only usually phoned on high days and holiday. But at this point in time she was so bored that she wondered if she could possibly spin it out for over an hour. She was sure she could think up something interesting to say about swimming, or she could listen to her sister berate her for her terribly lonely life, or for not phoning their mother.

Isobel dialed the number and waited for the call to connect, fully prepared to hear her sisters usual pretentious greeting. Instead, she got a mechanical voice informing her that the number she had dialed was currently unavailable and to please try again later. There was no option to leave a message.

She dropped her phone onto the couch next to her and stared at the ceiling, allowing her mind to take her wherever it wanted. She spent a few happy moments imaging Violet and Gladys Denker getting their comeuppance one way or another, but eventually even that got old. She contemplated phoning Charles and trying to get him to let her into the work system, but even as the thought crossed her mind she knew it was pointless. There was no way he would ever go against Elsie's wishes.

In many ways, Isobel thought to herself, those two are sickening with their happy ending story. Not that she wasn't happy for them, she was. The deserved each other, and loved each other. But occasionally they made Isobel feel lonely and a bit like a third wheel.

She knew she was being unreasonable to think such things, especially when she had probably been just as bad, if not worse, when she had first met Reginald. Elsie had never said a word though and had cried like a baby at her wedding. Isobel felt awful for occasionally feeling envious of Elsie's relationship with Charles.

Isobel glanced at the clock. It was mid morning. There would be a long wait until Beryl returned to the flat, and Isobel was afraid that she would have jumped out the window by then. Groaning as her knees clicked when she got to her feet she headed over to the door and grabbed her coat. Beryl Patmore was not the boss of her, and neither was Elsie Hughes, so she was going to walk down to the restaurant whether they liked it or not.

Beryl Patmore was a fierce business woman, despite her appearance. She was more often than not red faced with smudge of flour somewhere upon her person, with an apron tied around her hips. You would never guess that she could argue for bargains better than anyone Isobel had ever met.

One of the great selling points of Beryl's small restaurant apart from the relaxed atmosphere and good service was great food at a reasonable price, and Isobel finally understood how she did it.

When Isobel had arrived the restaurant was closed, the chairs piled up on the tables and the table cloths still folded away. She had to knock on the door to get someone to open it for her, not even thinking to use the back door like Beryl and the rest of the staff did. One of the waitresses, a girl named Ivy, was mopping the floor quietly but had paused to let Isobel in, not saying a word as she did so, merely smiling when Isobel had thanked her. Isobel had taken a moment to take in the light blue walls, dark wooden tables and the simple lighting before searching for Beryl. She eventually found her, standing in the kitchen, throwing ingredients into a bowl with possibly a little more force than necessary and arguing over the price of mushrooms with a overweight and slightly sweaty man. The man was having none of it though and as the minutes ticked by their voices got louder and louder. Beryl paused to glare at him, and as she did she noticed Isobel hovering in the back ground, but instead of insisting that she went back to the flat Beryl merely rolled her eyes and pointed her to a chair before continuing with her argument. She turned the mixer on, leaving it to do what it was supposed to while she headed to the fridge. Their argument didn't pause, just got even louder as they shouted over the whirr of the mixer. Beryl returned and handed Isobel a glass of Lemonade, raising a finger to indicate that Isobel was to sit there and behave.

Isobel had never bothered to think of mushrooms, other than they tasted nice, but according to Beryl there was an art in growing them and an entire process went into the selling and buying of them. She and the man seemed to be arguing over both the price and the quality, with her claiming he was charging way too much, and him protesting that she wasn't aware of the bargain she was getting. Slowly but surely they were closing in on each other, with Beryl slowing upping her offer, and him slowly lowering his price. Isobel sat and sipped her drink, watching the process with interest.

A few minutes later the back door opened with a clatter and Daisy hurried in. She dropped her bag next to the coat rack, and struggled with her coat before waving to Beryl as she hung it up. Beryl ignored her, and with an eyeroll, Daisy fished her phone out of her pocket, plugged her earphones in and made her way to the freezer to begin hauling supplies out.

"Would you like some help?" Isobel offered from her seat, causing Daisy to jump. "Oh sorry Isobel, I didn't see you there." Daisy said with a smile, puffing slightly as she lugged a large basket out "It's easier if I do it myself" she said kindly but firmly "else I have to explain where everything goes and it ends up taking longer than ever."

"Well, let me know if you change your mind." Isobel offered looking concerned. A cackle came from Beryl's direction, causing them both to look up in alarm

"Is this a regular thing?" Isobel asked, nodding towards them as the argument continued.

"Every single time he comes in." Daisy said, shouldering the freezer door closed "It's got to the stage where I can guess at what price they'll settle on and I'm usually right. I don't know why they can't just cut to the chase and settle on that to begin with. Any minute from now she'll rope me in."

As if on cue Beryl turned around, her eyebrows raised and her hands planted on her hips

"Daisy!" she barked "do you hear how much this man wants to charge me for a few measly mushrooms?"

"Its appaling Mrs Patmore." Daisy replied in a weary voice. Apparently satisfied, Beryl turned off the mixer and said in a smug tone, her voice immediately returning to its normal pitch

"There we are Mr Tufton," she said loftily "even Daisy can see you're ripping us off. I'll give you half of that at most."

The back door swung open again, and this time a tall man stepped inside. He took one look at the scene in front of him and sighed. He grabbed an apron from the hook and tied it around his waist.

"Good morning Alfred" Beryl said, catching sight of him out of the corner of her eye.

"Morning Mrs Patmore." he greeted, nodding in her direction before heading over to give Daisy a hand. He effortlessly lifted a large bag of flour onto the counter for her, earning himself a rare smile. "Mr. Tufton." He added, nodding at the man "Are you two almost done? We open for lunch in an hour."

"Alfred, how many times have I told you that bargaining cannot be rushed?" Beryl snapped, before turning back to Mr. Tufton. "That's my final offer" she said to him. He pretended to think about it for a few moments before heaving a great sigh.

"Very well" he said, "add a piece of whatever you've got going and I'll call it square."

Beryl narrowed her eyes at him and he smirked in response.

"Daisy!" she barked suddenly, causing the young girl to jump "find Mr Tufton a piece of that apple cake we had left over."

Daisy didn't even bother answering, but merely grabbed a paper plate from a shelf and starting cutting a piece of cake. She handed it to the man, and picked up the box of mushrooms, leaving Beryl to hand over the rest of the payment.

Isobel waited until he had left before asking

"Does it always take that long? I've never heard of you arguing with suppliers."

"To be honest I probably would have paid his original asking price." Beryl said, now pouring batter into cake tins "But he makes it so easy to beat him down, and it gives me my weekly entertainment."

"It seems a lot of work for a few mushrooms" Isobel remarked

"It's something different each week." Beryl said "he owns the fruit and veg shop a few streets down, doesn't even need to come in here to flog stuff, but he knows he gets free cake out of it so" she shrugged

Isobel raised an eyebrow in her direction, which Beryl studiously ignored.

"Mr. Tufton has been coming in here since we started" Daisy supplied. She had returned to the front of the kitchens, carrying a large bowl of unshelled peas, and had turned her music off. "He had a thing for Mrs Patmore, insisted on only talking to her, even though both myself and Alfred can sign for orders. Got a bit annoying really, because he would insist on waiting for her if she was out. We started giving him cake, because it felt awkward just leaving him there and he's been coming back ever since."

"Well, it wasn't just the baking he was interested in." Alfred said, a cheeky smile lighting up his face. He was peeling potatoes, at a alarmingly fast rate.

"That's true" Daisy said, clearly enjoying herself "He eventually asked her out. They went on two whole dates."

"Daisy!" Beryl protested, while Isobel choked on her drink. "I swear to god if you ever mention that to Elsie, I will beat you like an egg." She added, glaring at Isobel.

"You've never told her?" Isobel asked once she'd regained control. Beryl was quiet for a moment as she navigated the oven door with two large cake tins in her hands. She slid them in and the door closed with a bang

"Absolutely not." Beryl said shortly, pulling her oven mitts off. 'We went on two dates and they were both awful. In the end I just refused to go on another one. Thankfully he understood, and we went back to being reluctant business associates."

"Why didn't you tell her?" Isobel asked, cocking her head in curiosity. "I thought you two told each other practically everything."

Beryl sighed, and flung herself down in the chair next to Isobel.

"Daisy," won't you get me a glass of that lemonade?" she called over her shoulder, before returning her attention to Isobel "Do you remember when Elsie and Charles first got together?" she asked "Officially I mean, not the longing looks and Elsie agonizing for hours over what tie to get him for Christmas."

Isobel thought back. It was hard to believe that they had only become a couple a few years ago. It often felt like those two had been together for ever, and it became easy for forget the office tension, the denials and the amount of thought that went into Christmas gifts from one to the other. When they eventually had come to their senses and were officially seeing each other, not much changed, except that they were a lot more relaxed around each other. They always worked well together, and you knew that they were friends, but there had been stiffness to them as well. A clear boundary. Isobel had been delighted when that boundary had disappeared for good.

"She was so happy" Beryl said, not bothering to wait for an answer "she was on cloud nine, and there was nothing that could ruin her mood for weeks on end. Elsie has always kept her feet on the ground, but I swear in the first few months she was a different person. She was almost weightless."

"I remember" Isobel said, a memory of her teasing Elsie for being far too happy for a Monday morning "She and Charles never had large displays of public affection in the office, but both of them were very easy going. Still are compared to the past."

"Exactly." Beryl said with a nod. "Well, truth be told I was a little jealous. I wanted that happiness, that feeling of being complete. I'm not saying you need a man to be complete" she added, raising a threatening finger "but everyone needs someone to pay attention to them sometimes? Preferably in a manner that's not entirely proper. "

Isobel didn't reply but merely picked up her drink and swirled it around. Perhaps that is why she had completely lost her head with Dr Clarkson? Maybe she was just desperate for attention. She didn't want to admit it, but she was a little lonely living in her flat with a cat and numerous books.

"So, why is it exactly that Elsie shipped you off to me?"Beryl asked as Daisy slid the drink in front of her. Isobel looked at her blankly for a few moments, before realizing that Elsie obviously had not told her the whole story.

"I fancied a break."

"Ha!" Beryl said rather rudely "pull the other one."

Isobel sighed "I got too involved in a case, and ruined an associate's first case in court. "

"You're not one of those ones that got engaged to an inmate are you? " Beryl said frowning. She glanced over her shoulder to check on her staff, but Daisy had gone back to her peas, Alfred had moved onto peeling carrots, and Ivy was sorting cutlery. All three of them had their earbuds in and were clearly not listening to a word the two woman were saying.

"No" Isobel said, shaking her head. She ducked her head to avoid looking at Beryl, and spoke to her half empty glass instead "I stupidly got involved with one of our expert witnesses, and the other side found out and used it as leverage in the case."

"You see." Beryl said, after a beat of silence "attention that's not proper. We all need it."

"That may be so" Isobel said, finishing her drink and standing up "But it was stupid to choose someone in the middle of our most difficult cases this year."

"Can't argue with that." Beryl said with a cheeky grin "Actually, we have a client here that you might like to meet. His name is-" Beryl clicked her fingers as she tried to remember, before bursting out "Richard!" Isobel felt her blood go cold. Surely Dr. Clarkson wouldn't turn up here as well? The man was like a particularly irritating rash

"Grey" Beryl finished "Richard Grey, Dickie to his friends. He's a medical sales rep for Merton's , so you'd have something to discuss at first."

Isobel breathed a little easier. It wasn't Dr Clarkson. Still, she had no desire to get involved with anyone else. Especially not with someone named Richard.

"I'll pass thank you Beryl" she said, rinsing her glass out "I've had enough trouble for quite awhile."

Beryl cocked her head and studied Isobel, her stare never wavering. Isobel stared right back, unfazed at Beryl's attempt to unnerve her. Eventually Beryl heaved a great sigh and broke her stare.

"Well," she said "are you going to tell me about this expert witness that you got involved in? So I know your type?"

"You met my husband. He was my type." Isobel replied.

"I'll rephrase." Beryl said, the lingo of the lawyers she was friends with clearly rubbing off on her. "I fancy a little girl chat, and as the other three are not listening, you have no excuse not to give it to me. Was he good looking? Funny? Why him out of all the other witnesses you've dealt with over the years?"

Isobel walked away, taking her glass to the sink in order to buy herself some time to think of an answer. Beryl followed her though, under the pretense of checking on the cake. She peered comically through the glass door, but all too soon her main focus was once again Isobel, who tucked a stray hair behind her ear and shrugged

"I don't even know." Isobel confessed. She turned to lean against the counter and folded her arms in front of her. "Even before I met him, I researched him for the case and there was just something about him that made me want to know more. Then I met him, and he just seemed to brighten things up you know?"

"So how did you end up getting involved with him?" Beryl asked, carefully removing the cake from the oven and leaving it on the cooling rack. She then started collecting the dirty mixing bowls and moved them to the sink, before filling it with hot water.

Isobel explained about what had happened when Richard- Dr Clarkson- had taken her home, and Beryl listened while she did the washing up, carefully keeping her face neutral as Isobel talked, for once holding her tongue until Isobel had finished. She explained about the wine, and about the drive home. She told Beryl about the kiss, the words spilling from her lips easier than she ever thought they would. In a way, it was almost liberating to be able to tell her version of the story first, without someone's judgment being clouded by Violet or Sybil's version first.

"You didn't tell me he was a witness in one of your cases. " She accused light heartedly "I would have flirted a bit harder then. I thought he was a friend of yours, and that you were interested in him. I would never have pushed for him to give you a lift if I'd known."

"You were a little drunk at the time" Isobel pointed out, poking her friend gently "I think you might have pushed for anything at that point"

"Well, at any rate," Beryl continued with a laugh "it was only a kiss right? When you said that you wrecked someone's first time in court I was expecting-"

"It was made to seem that way. "Isobel interrupted before Beryl could finish her sentence. She glanced at the three youngsters, all who thankfully seemed to still be bobbing away to their music "And which is easier to believe?"

"Fair point" Beryl conceded with a shrug.

Isobel grabbed a dish towel and started drying what Beryl had washed, and for a few minutes they worked in silence, both of them thinking about Isobel's revelation.

The phone rang, causing them both to jump, and Beryl hurriedly wiped her hands and went to answer it, shouting for Daisy to finish the washing up. Daisy removed her earphones and did as she was told. Both she and Isobel listened to Beryl argue with another supplier on the phone.

"Don't you open soon?" Isobel asked when they had finally finished and Daisy was rinsing the sink out.

Daisy nodded "Yes, but we don't really do cooked meals for lunch. Most of the preparation was for tonight, and Alfred has been doing what he can to get ready for the lunch rush. Any minute now Mrs Patmore will start shouting at poor Ivy because the table cloths aren't on the tables yet."

Sure enough, Beryl slammed the phone down ten minutes later, took one look at the clock and starting shouting. Ivy, who at the time was refilling salt shakers, jumped and hurried to do as she was told. With a sigh, Daisy wandered over to finish with the salt, clearing up what Ivy had spilt as she did so.

Just as the last table was declared ready, the first client appeared at the door. Isobel could see it was going to be a busy afternoon, and decided to return to the flat. She had a funny feeling she would be more of a hindrance than a help if she stayed.

Beryl was distracted and barely noticed when Isobel waved goodbye, but Daisy called her back.

"I know its none of my business" she said shyly " but I couldn't help but overhear what you said to Mrs Patmore….about the witness?"

Isobel felt her face flush, which Daisy kindly ignored

"Its..its just that I don't think you should turn your back on that sort of thing" Daisy said in a bit of a rush "there's obviously this connection for a reason."

"Are you telling me its fate?" Isobel asked skeptically, and Daisy shook her head

"Not fate, no. But I personally believe that if there's that connection then it's either someone you need in your life, or it's a lesson you need to learn."

"I think the lesson has been learnt. "Isobel pointed out. A few more customers walked in and Daisy walked off to go and help them, a friendly smile lighting up her face as she went. She turned on her heel last moment though, the smile dropping slightly to one that seemed all knowing and asked

"Then why is he still in your head?"

Why indeed? Please leave a review if you can spare a few moments!