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He turned away, his face a hard mask, and Kate, knowing words could only make
the situation worse, went into the kitchen and began desultorily looking through her file on Grainne.  But it was impossible to concentrate, and guilt kept making her heart sink right into her boots.  And underlying all her uneasiness was another, far simpler fear; who had just rung her and threatened her with death?  Her number was in the phonebook so it could have been just some nut getting in on the act but she very much feared it wasn’t.

After listening to tapes of the Sarah McGrath therapy sessions, though she only
gave half her mind to them, she rang the hospital to see how Sean was.  And that, at least, brought some good news; he was out of the high risk ward and recovering well.  With a lighter heart Kate returned to Grainne’s file but found nothing useful there and after a fruitless hour she gave up and went to bed.  Alone, and hardly able to look at Peter as she passed him, still silently sitting on the sofa glaring into the fire.  Or
couch,
as he insisted on calling it.  Funny; why should such a foolish thought make her feel as if her heart was breaking?  She undressed with slow sorrow, remembering how he had disrobed her earlier. 
God, what a difference a couple of hours could make. 
Or a single phone call.  She got into the bed, determined not think about anything at all.  But without him there the bed was even bigger than she remembered, and far lonelier.  And although it was undoubtedly foolish, and she hated herself for doing it, she couldn’t help but cry a little before she fell asleep.

The shrill ringing of her mobile woke Kate from the uneasy sleep she had eventually drifted into and she stirred and rolled over.  But before she could get out of the bed she heard Peter’s deep voice saying sharply, suspiciously, ‘Hello?  Who is this?’

Suddenly she was fully awake, the memory of the earlier phone call sharp and clear in her mind.  But Peter’s voice quickly lost its hostility and he sounded confused as he said, ‘I see.  Okay, Trev, talk to you later.’

Trev?  Had he really said Trev? 
Kate looked at the clock on the bedside table;
it was almost four in the morning!  What the hell was going on?

Peter came quietly into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, ‘Kate?’

His voice was barely a whisper but she was wide awake and said sharply, ‘What is it?  Is there something wrong with Trevor?’

‘No, nothing like that,’ he said softly, ‘But there’s been a fire at Deacon House.’

Kate sat up, her eyes wide in the faint light coming in from the sitting-room, ‘Is Grainne all right?’

‘Yes,
she’s fine.
’
he said quickly, to reassure her, before continuing reluctantly, ‘though it looks as though the fire started near, if not in, her room.  Actually, according to Trev it looks as though she might have started it.’

Kate closed her eyes, ‘Oh, no.  This is all my fault
!  I should have expected something like this after the way she was with me earlier!’

Peter took her hand, ‘Come on, Kate, you couldn’t have known she’d do something like this!  Besides, it sounds as if hardly any damage was done.’

‘No?  Well, maybe not.  But I
should
have known.  Instead of harping on the fact that she was starting to engage with reality I should have considered the effect her returning memories would have on her.  Especially after what she did to herself today.  I mean, she attempted suicide before, for God’s sake!’

Peter gripped her bare shoulders and gave her a little shake, ‘Stop it!  You
did
warn Trev to keep extra surveillance on her, he told me so!  And it isn’t even proven yet that she started the fire.  The camera station isn’t manned all night and the fire started while the security guard was making his rounds.  So they have no idea who lit it.  It might have nothing to do with her at all!’

‘Was anyone else hurt?’ asked Kate in a dull, weary voice.

Peter hesitated, ‘One or two people suffered from smoke inhalation, but not seriously.  Don’t beat yourself up about this; Kate, security and patient welfare at Deacon House aren’t your responsibility!  You did your part when you warned Trev to keep a special eye on her.  You know it and
he
knows it because he said as much to me.’

Kate closed her eyes, ‘I suppose so.  Thank God no one was killed, at least.’

‘Listen, go back to sleep.  Trev was a fool to ring in the middle of the night like that.  I don’t know what he thought he was playing at.  He said he was afraid you’d hear about it on the news in the morning and be frantic with worry, but actually I think he just panicked.  One way or another, there’s nothing you can do tonight.’

Kate looked up at him, the whites of her eyes gleaming very bright in the darkness, ‘I’ll have to go out there in the morning.  Whether or not she started it, Grainne will be in a terrible state.  A fire like that is bound to have all sorts of negative associations for her, considering how her mother died.  And if she started it herself... Well, you can imagine what her mental state must be.  She’ll need me now more than ever.  Perhaps I should go out there now?’

‘No,’ said Peter firmly, ‘Tomorrow is time enough.  Anyway, Trev said that Grainne had been heavily sedated so it wouldn’t do any good; she’ll be out for the count.  The way you should be if you’re to be any use to her tomorrow.’  He bent over and kissed her softly on the forehead, ‘Go on, go back to sleep.’

Kate reached up to him, wanting to hold him, wanting him in the bed with her, wanting him
inside
her, wanting the comfort of his love.  But he stood up away from her and she let her arms drop back onto the bed, too proud to ask him aloud to stay.  She heard him walk softly from the room and close the door.  And to Kate the sound had a fearful finality
to it
. 
She pressed her eyes tightly shut; her life had taken on such a nightmarish quality that she hardly knew who she
was
any more, much less what would happen next.  She only knew that she was alone, and that her bed was bigger and emptier than it had ever been before.  She cried again, and this time the tears ended only when she eventually fell asleep.

    The next morning Kate opened her eyes and stared at the white ceiling above her bed, dully noting that it was long past time she had the place decorated; the paint was starting to crack and peel.  Idle thoughts concerning colours drifted through her mind as she hauled herself out of bed and pulled on a robe; she even started contemplating various types of wallpaper.  After all, almost anything was better than thinking about the mess she had made of her life.  She shook herself and sighed, wondering vaguely if she were losing her mind.  She walked barefoot from her bedroom, heading quietly for the bathroom and hoping that Peter would still be asleep, and would remain asleep until she had left the flat.  Fat chance; the sofa was empty and faint sounds from the kitchen alerted her to his presence there.  Just her luck that one of the heaviest sleepers on the face of the Earth should suddenly start rising with the lark, solely because she did not want to see him.

She went into the bathroom, showered
, and began readying herself for the day, all the time aware of a dull heaviness in her head that vaguely reminded her of weather forecasts.  With random thoughts running through her mind about v-shaped depressions, localized in her apartment, she returned to her bedroom and dressed in one of her work suits; a severe, charcoal-gray jacket and skirt combination that matched her bleak mood perfectly.

Kat
e sat before her vanity mirror and began putting on the light touches of make-up that were all she allowed herself during the day, but then stopped and laid down her mascara brush.  She stared at herself in the mirror, thinking angrily;
What the hell are you doing?  Why do you insist on fouling everything up every time you have a chance of happiness?  What kind of masochist are you? 
Or perhaps sadist would be more accurate, since it generally seemed to be Peter she ended up hurting.

There was no answer to that.  Or at least, no answer she cared to search for.  S
he stared at herself for a long minute before making a rueful face at the mirror; at least she no longer needed to worry about getting fat.  Quite the opposite, in fact; her cheekbones and jaw-line were more accentuated than ever.  But not in an elegant, super-model way; rather she was starting to look ill.

You love him
, you idiot, don’t you? And always have.  You love Peter and just won’t admit it?

Kate sighed; of course she did. She always had, and e
ven a dedicated dodger of self-truth like her could deny it for only so long.  But then, love had never been the real problem between them; her fear of commitment, of truly and irrevocably giving herself to another, was the problem.  Jesus, she could never even say the
words
‘I love you’!  Not to anyone.  She had always found it hard to express her emotions, but then, Peter had never seemed to need to hear the words.  He might have
liked
to hear them, but he didn’t
need
to.  Not the way she needed reassurance from
him
.  She shut her eyes briefly; the more she thought about their relationship the more she realised just how much Peter had given, and just how little he had asked.  And badly though it might reflect on her, even this was better than thinking about why she continually ran from her own feelings.

Kate
lowered her tear-filled eyes; was her chance of a life with Peter just one more of the many things her father had stolen from her, along with her innocence and her childhood and her trust in people?  In spite of all her knowledge and education? In spite of her
experience? 
She was supposed to be a trauma therapist, for God’s sake, this was just the sort of problem she was trained to help people
overcome
.  Tears that should have been shed years before welled up in her eyes but, as ever, she forced them back, refusing to even
think
about what had been done to her.

‘Physician, heal thyself,’ she muttered aloud, getting up to go into the
kitchen and face him, possibly for the last time. 
Heal thyself,
God, if only it were that simple.

Peter was sitting at the
little table drinking coffee, and when Kate entered the room be gave her a quick glance from under lowered brows before nodding towards the cooker and saying, in a neutral tone, ‘Kettle’s just boiled if you want a cuppa.’

Kate forced a smile in his direction without actually looking at him and busied herself making a cup of Nescafe.  For once regretting the speed with which instant coffee was prepared she added milk and sugar and sat down at the table, knowing that she had to face him sooner or later.  Later sounded much better to her right now but it would be as well to get this over with.  Perhaps once and for all.

He was looking at her calmly and, in contrast to how she felt, looked fresh and well- rested, causing her a momentary stab of irritation; why didn’t
he
look tired and drained and wretched?  Where were
his
red, bag-laden eyes?  She forced such nonsense from her mind and silently sipped her coffee, waiting.  But he simply sat there without saying a word either so at last she was forced to break the pregnant pause by saying, slightly caustically, ‘Can I assume you won’t be here when I get home tonight?’

‘I’m not sure.’  He hesitated, ‘
I don’t think it would be a good idea, do you?’

Kate shrugged and said lightly, ‘In that case I won’t give you a key.’

Peter’s face tightened and anger flashed in his eyes, giving her heart a momentary lift of illogical pleasure.

‘Do you intend to stay here alone?’

Kate shrugged again, ‘What’s it to you?’

His voice rose slightly as he said harshly, ‘Stop playing games!  You know I won’t
leave you here alone!  Not so long as you’re in danger!’

Her heart was
pounding for no good reason and she lowered her eyes to prevent him reading their expression.  ‘I’ll be fine.  I can survive without you, you know.’

‘Evidently,’ he repl
ied dryly, and with just a hint of bitterness, ‘But this isn’t a game, okay?  Someone threatened to kill you.  He has your phone number already and with all the media attention this place won’t be too hard to find.  So you either stay with friends or family, or I stay right here with you.  And that’s the end of it.’

Kate
felt like crying, but instead she said, as sarcastically as possible, ‘Well, I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble so don’t worry, I’ll make alternative arrangements.’

‘Promise me, Kate,’ he said evenly, his dark eyes boring into hers, ‘
All bullshit aside.  You know I won’t leave you here alone so promise me you’ll stay somewhere else.’

She couldn’t meet his gaze with eyes
that were suddenly full of tears so she fixed them on the table and said softly, ‘Okay, fine, I promise.’  Her voice wasn’t quite steady but he didn’t seem to notice, and a deafening silence descended.  After a minute or so he said heavily, ‘I’d better get going.’