Some vague references to Series 2 spoilers (TWO DAYS - I might explode with excitement!) but nothing specific. I had this idea around the same time as HedgieX wrote 'Love is an ever-fixed mark' and she encouraged me to write this - they're sort of kinda mirror image pieces. (Read hers! It's way better than this.) The title is taken from the same poem, Shakespeare's Sonnet 116.

Caroline thinks she is getting used to the drive up to Gillian's farm, but every time it takes her by surprise just how far out it is. She knows her way through the narrow maze of back roads by now and when she thinks of it they always seem to form a quick and direct path but, in reality, there are so many twists and turn-offs that she has to pick her way with care. What gets her most is the dark. It is the darkest place she has ever been. The road appears in front of her headlights a wedge at a time, bounded by hedges and stone walls with only blackness beyond. When she passes, nothingness closes in behind her. It unsettles Caroline who has never lived in a place without street lights, especially tonight when she is worried anyway.

If only things didn't have to be so complicated. If she could be driving up here for some simple, pleasant reason, instead of under some kind of stress. She has never yet driven up here without something being wrong, Caroline realises. On day, she thinks, she must come and visit Gillian when everything is calm and nice, and normal.

'Ha bloody ha,' she says aloud to herself. Not knowing her luck. If it wasn't their parents getting into bother, it was John making trouble, or one of the kids causing chaos, or herself getting worked up, Gillian upset. Caroline automatically presses the accelerator a little harder. She has been stressed all day. Ever since the phonecalls.

This is the Vodafone voicemail service for...

'Mum, will you give me a ring when you get this? Just wondering how you're getting on.'

You have the O2 messaging service...

'Hi Alan, it's just Caroline calling, wondering how you are. Can you ask my Mum to give me a ring when she's got a minute? Ok, thank you.'

Please leave a message after...

'Gillian, it's Caroline. I'm just wondering if your Dad and my Mum are with you? Is everything all right? I've been trying to ring them and I haven't got through all morning. I'm erm, I'm sure I'm only panicking over nothing but if you could just give me a quick ring when you get this that would be wonderful.'

When her mobile had finally rang, Caroline had nearly leapt out of her office chair.

'Mum, what on earth have you been up to?'

'Hello love.' There was a good deal of background noise and Caroline frowned as she struggled to hear her mother.

'Where are you? Is everything ok?'

'Oh yes, we're fine. We're in a little cafe at the minute, me and Alan, on our way back to Harrogate. Were you trying to ring me?'

'Yes.' Caroline looked to the heavens. 'I've been trying all day and I couldn't get through to any of you. Are you sure everything's all right?'

'We just went for a little drive that's all, there's no signal round some of these parts.'

'Right.' Caroline knew she should be relieved and she was, but there was something about the tone of her mother's voice that kept her on edge. She decided to try the softly tactics, as blunt questioning was getting her nowhere. Sweetening her voice, she tried again.

'I was just a bit worried about you both, that's all. You know how it is when you two go AWOL, anything could be happening. And I couldn't get through to Gillian either, so...'

'Ahh.' There was a muffled pause at the other end of the phone. Aha, thought Caroline, Gillian's the problem then. A chill ran through her. What was wrong? She pushed herself up and moved out from behind her desk, unsettled by the sensation.

'Mum?' When Celia spoke again the background noise had dulled and there was a tinny echo to her words.

'Sorry, just moving out of the way.' Caroline's frown deepened. She recognised an excuse when she heard one.

'Have you heard from Gillian?' Celia's tone was delicate.

'What's happened?'

'She and Alan have had a bit of a falling out.'

'Gillian? And Alan?' Caroline was incredulous.

'Mmm I know love. But, well it isn't really my business. They had words this morning anyway and she went off.'

'Oh.' Caroline felt rather as if the carpet was moving. She put a hand out and found she was leaning against the windowsill. 'Is she ok?'

'Well, I don't know.' Celia sighed. Caroline made up her mind.

'I'll keep trying her.'

But the only answer she had got was the same recorded message again and again until she had been seriously tempted to throw the phone at the wall. And so, as soon as she could reasonably get out of school, which was nowhere near as early as she would have liked, Caroline found herself driving the long road out Halifax direction, without even thinking about it.

.

As her car purrs into the yard, the sweep of the headlights catches something unusual on the wall, bright for a second and then in darkness as she automatically pulls up in the usual spot. Caroline's heart beats harder, even as her brain tries to identify what she saw. She fumbles out of the seatbelt. Outside seems darker than ever, her eyes slow to adjust, there is no light from the house at all. Caroline picks her steps carefully across the slope of the yard, towards the more solid dark of the dry stone wall and paws her way along the sharp edged stones until she reaches the latest addition.

Gillian sits perfectly still, legs hanging, back bent, head dropped. Caroline is almost afraid to touch her but cannot stop the hand that reaches out to her.

'Oh Gillian.' She hesitates, outstretched hand hovering a foot from the unmoving woman. She doesn't want to startle her and a rejection suddenly seems too much to risk, too much to bear after all the worry and effort. And after all that, what is she doing here? Recognising her own tiredness welling up in her, Caroline leans against the wall and looks out across the countryside. Gillian still doesn't move. Caroline isn't sure what's more foolish – rushing here thinking she might have done something terrible, or not knowing what the hell to do now that she is. She tilts her head back and looks up, searching out stars through the thin layer of cloud.

'Well it's a nice night for it,' is the first thing she can think of to say.

Beside her there is a tiny shift. Caroline looks sideways without moving her head. Her ears strain.

'I mean, at least it's dry.' There's a movement again. She risks turning her head this time and realises that Gillian is laughing. Dry little laughs that break out of her and shake her stiff body. Caroline chuckles. Gillian bends her head further over and wraps her arms round herself. Her back shakes, her shoulders rise and drop, her whole body rocks and Caroline catches her on instinct almost before her conscious brain realises that she is crying.

'Shhh... shhh.' She has her arms around the smaller woman whose head is against her shoulder and she braces herself to support the weight of her as Gillian lets herself go, curling tighter and tighter in with every sob. She can barely catch her breath, she is shaking so hard. Caroline strokes her back, her shoulders, her head.

'Shh... shhh...' She doesn't try to speak, partly because she hasn't a clue what to say, partly because she hasn't much breath herself, and largely because she knows Gillian is way past making sense of words. She just holds her like she would hold anyone in this much pain, like she has held her boys and her mother and a few friends and John and Kate at different times in her life. Like a very few people have held her.

.

Time passes like this. Enough time for Caroline to begin to think how small Gillian is, how she fits in her arms almost like Lawrence does. Enough time for her to remember that she still hasn't worked out how exactly she feels about this woman whose tears are now soaking through her shirt and tickling her skin. Then Gillian throws her head up and pulls back, she wobbles, giddy at the sudden movement and Caroline catches her again. Gillian sniffs noisily and wipes a hand across her face.

'I really miss her, you know.' Her voice is thick and twisted. It breaks. 'Me Mother.'

Caroline straightens a little in surprise. Where on earth has this come out of?

'I just... I just really wish she was still here sometimes to... She always knew how to... what to...' Now she has started, Gillian seems bent on explaining herself, unable to stop talking even as she struggles to find words and get them out on her still heaving, half-choked sobs.

'She was an amazing woman my Mother was. She put up with a lot... from me. But she always knew how to handle me, how to... make things right. Make things... better.' Gillian looks Caroline directly in the face, fierce now, the eye contact searing even in the dim light.

'She was brilliant was Eileen. My Mum.' She stares at Caroline for a few seconds more and then she sags, all the fight going out of her so fast that Caroline twitches forward in case she falls, again. Gillian sways but doesn't quite tip forward. She seems to shrink back into a much much younger, much smaller, person.

'I miss her.'

Uncertain, Caroline hovers again, just outside Gillian's grief. Then making a decision, she takes her hand and squeezes it gently. Gillian looks up, eyes puffed and bleary but herself again.

'Do you miss your Dad?'

Caroline sighs. She could brush off an answer, the way she brushes off most thoughts about her father. There aren't many that she wants to dwell on, sad as that is, and her growing awareness of this sadness only makes her more keen to avoid thinking about him most of the time. But Gillian deserves something more than that, surely.

'Not like that.' She gives Gillian a sad smile. 'I told you, didn't I, that my parents didn't have a very happy marriage. Well, it was a lot down to him, how he behaved. I mean, I know my Mother's not always easy to live with.' They both bite back slightly guilty smiles at that. Caroline sighs again.

'But he was never really there with us, even when he was at home. He wasn't warm, or open, not someone you could talk to. I don't...' Caroline pauses, working something out. 'I don't think he ever really loved us. Not that I remember.'

Her mind is very far away for a moment so that she is surprised when a there is a soft touch on her arm. Gillian. There is a moment of stillness as they look at each other. Caroline thinks that she should laugh off her own foolishness in a second, or apologise, but the silence stretches on, and it's not a laughing matter, it's serious.

'I suppose he's told you all about it,' Gillian says at last. 'Or he's told her and she's told you.' She sniffs. Caroline shakes her head slowly but very definitely.

'I don't know anything except that you and Alan have had a falling out.'

Gillian sniffs again, pulling her arms into her chest. 'Well he seems to have told everyone else.'

'What?' It's an automatic question and Caroline takes it back almost as soon as it escapes her mouth. 'No, wait, you don't have to tell me. I'm sorry.' She touches Gillian's near, as being the nearest bit of her, desperate to make her point and stop Gillian withdrawing from her. 'You really don't. I didn't mean to ask that.'

'That's all right.' Gillian's voice is cold though and she doesn't look at Caroline. 'Apparently the whole world needs to know my personal business. What a fuck up I am.' Her voice rises, raw anger and pain. 'Maybe I should come with a warning sign or something about how I'm always going to fuck up everything I touch. Every single thing.' She screws up her fist and bangs it on the wall, flinching back immediately as it catches a sharp edge. Caroline winces with her.

'See.' Gillian hunches over her hand. 'I'm an idiot.'

'You're not.' Caroline tries to reach out to her.

'Don't.'

There is silence again. Caroline waits. She thinks about her house, warm and familiar, wonders if Kate will wait up for her, if Lawrence is giving her any trouble. She wonders again what on earth she is doing here.

'Sorry.' It's so quiet she almost doesn't hear it.

'Sorry.' Gillian lifts her head an inch. 'I shouldn't take it out on you.'

'That's... Is you hand ok?'

'What? Oh... yeah.' Gillian holds out the hand and Caroline touches it lightly, bending close to try to see if it's bleeding. In the close dark the best she can manage is that she can't feel any blood.

'Don't you think we should go inside?' Caroline asks.

'No.' Gillian shakes her head like a child. 'Don't want to.'

'Ok.'

'I like it out here. Helps me think.'

'But you must be freezing. How long have you been sat on that wall?' Caroline realises that Gillian is giving her a strange sort of look. 'What?'

'You sounded just like your mum, just then.'

Caroline puts a hand to her forehead. 'Oh God. Did I?'

'I keep doing stupid things.' Caroline blinks at Gillian's abrupt change of subject.

'Well we've all done a few of those.'

'But I don't even know why I do them,' Gillian continues. 'I... I know they're stupid and if it was anyone else I'd tell them to steer well clear and do the other thing but, at the time, I keep, I don't know, it seems like the only thing to do.'

Caroline leans back against the wall and folds her arms, considering

'I think, if you make one bad choice, it leads to another one. I think that's how it happens.'

'Yeah?'

'Mmm...'

'I've been making bad choices for the whole of my life then.'

'But that's it, because each time you make a bad choice, it makes choosing the right thing next time even harder. Until you can't even work out how far back the first wrong one was.'

'Sounds... yeah, sounds familiar.' Gillian glances at Caroline, looks away and then back again. She swallows and rubs her face. 'How is it you've managed to make some right ones then?'

'Oh.' Caroline looks non-plussed. 'I suppose I have.'

'You're happy aren't you?'

'Err yes.' Caroline looks down and then up, then back at Gillian. 'I'm not used to that.' Gillian's expression is so sad that Caroline can't help drawing near her again, putting an arm around her. She can feel the vibration in Gillian's shoulders as she starts to cry again.

'Hey, it'll be ok. It'll all blow over, you'll see.'

'He hates me,' Gillian chokes. 'They all do. Dad hates me. Robbie does. You do. Celia. Raff...'

'Does not hate you.'

'But he doesn't really care, he's got his own things going on.'

'He still loves you.' Caroline hugs her tighter.

'I think Dad's really had enough of me.' Gillian scrubs at her eyes but couldn't stop the tears. 'And I can't blame him. I'm a mess.'

'Well John still likes you.' Caroline freezes, her eyes going wide. What the hell is she thinking? Letting her mouth run away with her again. Gillian looks at her.

'Oh God,' she groans. Caroline laughs, surprising herself. Gillian tries to laugh and finds herself crying harder.

'I'm sorry. I am, I really am sorry.'

'I know.' Caroline pats her. 'I know you are. And I don't... mind, exactly. It's just strange.'

Gillian's reply gets lost in another sniff.

'I don't hate you,' Caroline says quietly.

'You don't?' Gillian sits upright, quite still. Her face is swollen and her mouth slippery with crying. Tears still seep slowly out of her eyes. She looks utterly lost. Caroline smooths a strand of hair back behind her ear and restes a hand on her shoulder.

'I don't know how I feel about...' She has to stop herself saying – you. 'About everything. But I don't hate you.'

Her eyes fixed on Caroline's, Gillian takes a deep breath.

'How do you stop making bad decisions, bad choices?'

'I don't know,' Caroline whispers. She tries very hard to think of those right choices she must have made somewhere along the way, she tries, she really does, to see the people and things she knows are right in her life. But the present pushes in at her, the dark, the open starry sky, the sharp stones of the wall digging into her side, the cool of her dampened shirt sticking to her chest, the rough wool of Gillian's jumper under her fingers, the way she is looking at her, waiting. 'I don't know.' She closes her eyes to push it all away. 'You just do.'

She feels Gillian pull away, hears the rasp of denim on stone, feels the slight vibration of movement. She opens her eyes to find Gillian standing in front of her.

'In that case,' Gillian says, in a close impression of her workaday voice, 'you'd better come in for a cup of tea.'

And, hobbling slightly from her long vigil on the wall, Gillian leads the way up the path to the farmhouse and switches on the light.