Of all the moments for Patrick to turn up that had to be one of the worst possible.

"Duffy? You all right?"

No, she thought looking at Patrick, Andie and Trish in turn, 'all right' was definitely the wrong term. He was clearly expecting a response from her.

"Uh-huh. Fine" she replied distractedly. She could see that Andie was getting ready to say something. Something, no doubt, about that bloody picture.

Duffy wondered just how much Andie already knew. If she'd managed to track down Holly's daughter then she'd obviously done her homework.

After Andrew's death and the subsequent inquests for him and Harvey, the full story of what had happened had come out. It sickened Duffy to hear just what Harvey had planned for Holly, how close he'd got to doing so much more than frightening her and drugging her. It brought back all the painful memories of her own past. The whole encounter was something that she certainly didn't want to burden her young children with. They didn't need to know the details, and she was already concerned that Peter, being the eldest, might have picked up a bit too much of it. It seemed better all round if her children believed their father's death was an accident, so that's what she had always told them.

Even though now Andie was basically all grown up, to Duffy she still her little baby girl and she didn't want to dig up the past right there and then. She also had to consider that Trish was an unknown quantity and then there was Patrick's reaction to the news; who knew how he would take it?

The tension was palpable and being the one in the fullest possession of the facts Duffy knew that it was up to her to sort out the situation one way or another. However, now was not the time to throw all the pieces of the puzzle out onto the floor and let everyone start scrabbling around for their part.

She scooped a few items of make-up off the dresser and into her waiting handbag.

"Right let's go!" Duffy stood up, ignoring the enquiring stares of the two girls as best she could.

"But…"

"Mum…" The girls chorused. Duffy pushed past them to where Patrick stood, ushering him out onto the landing and down the stairs. Patrick did as he was directed to do, more because Duffy gave him no other option than because he had the slightest idea what was going on.

"Duffy, you know, if I've interrupted something…" She practically pushed him into the street.

"Hang on, Mum, we want to talk to you!"

"Please, just answer a few questions, please…"

Ignoring her daughter's entreaty was so painful to her but she couldn't face raking up Andrew's death again. Patrick was slowly unlocking his car. Why couldn't he go faster? She had to get away, allow herself some time to think things through.

Finally Patrick got the car open and Duffy slid gratefully into the passenger seat, slamming the door and muffling the persistent cries of Trish and Andie.

"Duffy, what is going on!?"

"Just drive. Please Patrick, just drive".

He'd never seen her quite like this before; clearly agitated, distracted, pale - as if she'd seen a ghost. Maybe if he just did as he was told and started driving she'd calm down enough for him to find out what was wrong. It was probably just some domestic argument, he could imagine that teenage girls could be a bit of a handful. He started the engine and slowly reversed out of the parking space, slightly worried about leaving the girls behind.

They ran out into the street after the car and Duffy sunk into her seat, guilty and frustrated, as she and Patrick started down the road.

"Well that went well! So much for 'let me do the talking' Andie." Trish stormed back into the house from the street.

"Well, if you'd let me do the talking then maybe it would have gone better. But no, you had to steam straight in there and ruin everything."

"Oh, you had a better plan did you?"

"I know how to deal with my own Mum. You just upset her!"

"Upset her?!" Trish exclaimed wildly, "I've just discovered that my mother is not who she says she is! That's pretty darn upsetting, you know" She finished sarcastically.

"Yeah, well…don't blame me. It's not my fault! Blame Patrick Spiller coming and interrupting everything, giving her a good excuse to disappear like that. It's his fault more than mine."

"Patrick?"

"The bloke who was just her, her date, from the photo…" She practically ripped the picture out of Trish's grasp, located Patrick's face and thrust it back under her nose. "See!"

"Patrick?" She reiterated in a tone of disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me his name was Patrick?"

"What does it matter?"

"What does it matter! He knew my mum before I was born, his name's Patrick… What do you think Trish is short for Andrea!" Her brain was working overtime; it was all starting to make a vague sort of sense to her.

"Patricia?…Oh…I see, you think that you might be named after him, like I was named after my Dad?"

"Makes sense doesn't it? Andie, what if I just met my father?" She spoke softly now, as the true impact of her discovery sunk in. "You saw the way your Mum acted, she couldn't get him out of here fast enough. Maybe she worked it out too, maybe she thought if he knew about me and Mum being in town then he'd choose Mum over her."

"My Mum isn't like that."

"Do you have a better explanation for what happened here just now?" Trish took one last look at the picture in her hands and folded it neatly, sliding it into her trouser pocket.

"No… That doesn't mean there isn't one?" Trish stood up and made her way out of the room. "Trish, where are you going?"

"I'm getting my bag", she called from the landing, then returned back down the stairs to where Andie was still standing, "And I'm going home to talk to my mother. I'm going to find out what the hell's going on here if it's the last thing I do!"

*******************

Ten minutes later and Duffy and Patrick were still driving in absolute silence; Duffy staring blankly out of the passenger window, thinking about what had just happened and trying hard to avoid eye contact with Patrick. She had to tell him, she knew that, she'd promised, but as ever, it wasn't that simple.

Outside the early stages of dusk had begun and the dim light afforded Duffy the use of the window reflection to see Patrick. She could see him glancing at her every so often, the looks slightly longer and slightly more penetrating when the traffic would allow it.

How would he react to Holly's reappearance? If it were a week after, a month after, a year even she could imagine he would be ecstatic to see her, but eighteen years? In eighteen years, so much had changed. Holly obviously had. She had got herself a new life, a daughter and if her change of surname was anything to go by, a husband too. Now she wasn’t an SHO anymore, she was a consultant at St. Mary's… Peter's hospital… Peter's consultant? Another thing to worry about. She rested her head against the cool glass.

"You're quiet tonight." Patrick ventured, sensing that he would have to try his hand at the unfamiliar art of subtlety to get any information out of her.

"Just thinking".

"Oh so there's nothing wrong?"

"Nothing".

He tried a new tact, "Nice dress".

"Cheers".

He grunted. Why do women have to be so damn difficult? He flicked on the indicator and pulled over.

"Look, I know you said there's nothing wrong but…Well, I can see you're lying so why don't you just tell me what's up?"

The force of his query was nearly enough to make her do just that, but something stopped her. It was something in his eyes, his whole demeanour. He looked good, she realised, healthy, happy even. At least as happy as Patrick ever looked. He didn't look like the same Patrick she'd said farewell to all those years ago.

Back then his pining for Holly, for want of a better term, had left him looking ill. He had dark rings under his eyes, a pasty appearance, visible loss of weight, and a lack of interest in his job that had led him to feel the need to leave Holby and start afresh. Leaving and putting Holby and Holly behind him had clearly done him the world of good. If he was indeed over her, was it fair to ruin his peace of mind now?

Patrick was easy enough to track down, she'd done it herself; he was famous now. If Holly wanted to get in touch with him, it wouldn't be that hard. If she wanted to get in touch… Duffy had no reason to believe that she did even want to.

"Andie just told me… some news. That's all. It took me by surprise and I didn't want to have to deal with it just then." She turned on a smile and tried to clear the worry from her eyes. "Patrick I'm fine. Let's just get to this party".

It seemed to satisfy him and he started up the engine once more.

*******************

It was getting late, Peter thought as he looked down at his watch. No, he corrected himself; it was already late. Sarah would have put the children to bed ages ago. He'd always worked unsociable hours, that was part of being a doctor, but over the last week, the strained atmosphere between him and Dr Milton had inspired him to work even harder than usual. That and the worrying about his job had left him exhausted.

He leant on the administration desk and let out an involuntary yawn.

"Go home Peter. Your wife will have forgotten what you look like." Trudy whispered, shrugging on her own coat, and waving goodbye to her night shift counterpart.

"I'd love to," he sighed in return, "But Dr Milton wants to see me before I go."

"Oh I get it, so if you don't go home then you won't have to see her?" She said jokingly. Peter glared at her, but knew that the thought had crossed his mind.

"No. It's just, Trudy, do you think I'm paranoid, or does she really hate me?"

"I think you're paranoid Peter."

"Seriously?" He wasn't sure if that was better or worse, "You don't think she acts a bit odd around me? Like she'd rather I wasn't here?" Trudy took a second to think about it. Holly did seem a little frosty towards him at times, and everyone had noticed that he was the only person still calling her Dr Milton and not plain Holly.

"Maybe that's just the way she is with her junior doctors, you know, keep you on your toes. Go see her Peter, sort it out." She patted him on the back as she walked off, and he nodded after her. Time to bite the bullet, he thought to himself, and headed for her office.

Holly looked at her watch, it was getting late but going back home to face another difficult night with Trish didn't seem all that appealing. That girl could certainly argue, she wondered if she'd been as much of a handful at that age. Probably not she thought, but then again…

She looked back at her watch once more. She was sure she'd asked Peter Bower to come and find her before he went off shift. She had to talk to him; the situation was getting ridiculous. It might even help lay a few demons to rest, and find out a little of what happened after she left, to Duffy… to Patrick.

Suddenly the sanctuary of her office was disturbed by a knocking on the door.

"Come in." She called out. The door opened and revealed Peter standing behind it. She thought she saw him taking a deep breath before he stepped into the room, closed the door behind him, and sat on the chair opposite her.

"Sit down." She said jokingly. Peter didn't notice it; he looked horrified, Holly swore silently. Well, that must have put him at ease.

"You wanted to see me?"

"I owe you an apology Peter. As your boss here, I should be supporting and teaching you and all I've succeeded in doing is putting on extra pressure. I let my personal feelings get the better of me, it's unprofessional, and I'm sorry."

"Oh." Peter said, wondering what the 'personal feelings' could possibly be.

"You don't want an explanation?" Holly offered.

"I'd like to know what I've done wrong, Doctor."

"Oh, Peter, it's nothing that you've done. I don't know how to put this really, but we've met before. Just after your father died, I was an SHO working with him and your mother. I visited occasionally, I baby-sat…once." Mentioning it was bringing back all the memories; she could feel the warmth around her eyes and tried to swipe away the forming tears without Peter noticing.

She could remember that last night she'd spent in Holby so clearly, when Peter had only been about ten years old. She'd gone around to Duffy's just for a chat, and to get a breather from Patrick. Duffy had always been kind to her despite everything that she'd caused, despite being the reason for her husband's death.

Duffy had mentioned casually that she never seemed to get any time just to herself, she was always either with her kids or at work. In a way Holly could identify with that, well, the need for five minutes peace at any rate. Duffy said she'd like to be able to visit Andrew's grave, maybe even treat herself to a little shopping expedition. So Holly had offered to look after the children whilst she was gone.

It was the least that she felt she could do under the circumstances. She loved the kids and she wanted to help, maybe even start making things up to her in some small way. Duffy hadn't looked completely sure at first but Holly had managed to talk her around and Duffy had happily left her in charge of Peter, Jake, and baby Andie.

"You did?" Peter asked hesitantly, awakening Holly from her thoughts. He searched his memory of that awful time. In the weeks after his father's death and his sister's birth many of his parent's colleagues from the hospital had seen fit to visit the house. People he'd never seen before, or since for that matter. The name Holly though, that rung a bell…

 "Yes, yes I did. And I did a stupid thing that night too."

It had all been going well. The boys were amusing themselves on the swing set in the back garden, and Andie had been sleeping contentedly in her cot. Holly paced up and down the nursery, intermittently checking on the baby and looking out the window to see the brothers.

She remembered looking around that nursery and realising that it wasn't finished. Only two of the walls were covered by the cheery yellow striped wallpaper, the paint-work was old and chipped. In one corner of the room was a large flat Ikea box, still not unpacked. Then it struck her. Andrew had never got around to finishing decorating. He'd clearly assumed that there would be time before the baby arrived, or whilst Duffy was in hospital giving birth. He'd assumed that there would be time, and it was her, Holly Miles, who had taken that time away.

She'd been trying so hard not to think about it, but she had robbed him of a chance to see his daughter, to watch his children grow up, and in turn robbed them of there father. Yet they were carrying on, all of them, Duffy and the children were getting on with their lives as best they could.

How did they manage? How could they cope when she couldn't?

She made sure the baby monitor was switched on, and went downstairs to the living room. She saw the photos on the mantelpiece, the holiday souvenirs. Everywhere there were little reminders of the life that had ceased. The death that she'd caused, however inadvertently. Suddenly she knew why they could carry on and she was finding it so hard.

She was guilty, they weren't. They didn't have blood on their hands the way she did.

The more she turned it repeatedly in her head, the worse she felt. The atmosphere she was creating for herself was suffocating her. She could still hear the boys playing outside: laughing and shrieking at their game. It should have been a good sound but it rang bitterly in Holly's ears. She had to get out; she had to escape from it, from everything.

It seemed like the perfect solution. She needed some space to deal with what had happened, she hated herself and wanted a clean start, and no one would miss a bloodstained murderer. She could race back to Patrick's where she had been staying, collect some clothes and be gone before anyone had a chance to stop her.

There was an old mahogany writing bureau in the living room, the key for which lay on a shelf above it. She took the key and opened the bureau up. Inside she found some paper and scribbled out a hasty letter. She didn't want to think about what she was doing too much in case she changed her mind. They'd understand, she thought, leaving the note in plain view. And hopefully they'd never try to find her.

"Was it you?" Peter asked quietly, "Was it you who left us? I remember there being a knock at the front door and a man was there, Patrick I think his name was. He asked for a Holly but there was no one else in the house. He got really upset and made us all go to bed early."

Holly nearly laughed. All the angst that she went through and all that Peter remembered was an early bedtime! At least she knew now what had happened after she had gone. It wasn't that she didn't care about the children, but that she had been too wrapped up in her own guilt to think about what was best for them. Once on the bus out of the city she had thought about them and convinced her self that Duffy would have come home in time to find them unharmed.

"That was me, yeah".

"What happened?" He asked, he seemed genuinely to want to know. She wanted to explain but at the same time didn't feel like she could. If she was going to bare her soul it ought to be to Trish. Her first duty should always be to her daughter.

"I was scared and upset. I ran away. I'm sorry". She replied briefly but honestly.

Peter tilted his head to one side and looked at her quizzically. "I think we were all pretty scared and upset back then. But when it got bad at least I still had my Mum, Gran, and Jake, to… I don't know, be scared with I suppose. We looked out for each other. I really don't remember that much about your leaving. But, and I hope this doesn't sound patronising Dr Milton, I'm sorry for you that when you were upset you were alone." He waited; worried he'd overstepped the mark.

Holly took in his words and knew that he was right. She'd spent so long trying to cut herself off from everyone and instead of learning to cope, she'd bottled it up so much that it still hurt even now. She sniffed back a fresh load of tears.

"Peter I'm glad we had this chat. I think now it's time to call it a day though. Why don't you go home to your wife and kids and tomorrow we'll start again, bright and early."

"OK Dr Milton, goodnight". He turned to leave feeling satisfied that from now on things at work would be a lot better.

"Oh, Peter! One more thing… It's 'Holly'. I prefer that." She smiled and he smiled back.

Holly watched the young man leave and leant back on her chair. Peter had helped put things into perspective for her, everything that had happened had happened a long time ago. Maybe it wasn't as bad as she remembered, and the past couldn't hurt her anymore. She took a deep cleansing breath. Time to go home, explain things to Trish and hope that she understood.

*******************

"So you've known Patrick for a long time then?" James asked as the music for their waltz ended.

"Twenty years give or take" Duffy responded, allowing James to lead her off the dance floor and back to where they'd left Patrick sitting.

"And I thought I was the only one insane enough to put up with Patrick for that long!" He joked. Duffy smiled. James seemed nice, friendly, and rather attractive too. More importantly though at that moment he provided a welcome distraction from Patrick.

Every time he looked at her, she was sure that he could tell that she was hiding something from him. Every insignificant glance bored straight through her. She could see he was trying his best to be nice and take her mind off what he described as her 'home problems', but that just made things worse. She was lying to him. She felt terrible.

"Having fun you two?" Patrick enquired, seeing the first genuine smile of the evening on her lips and being glad to see it there.

"Oh yes, thank you for letting me borrow her" he winked, "Anyone for another drink?" They both shook their heads. James turned and went off to the bar. Duffy sat back down next to Patrick.

"You and James seem to be getting on well…" Patrick commented.

"Yeah… I like him. He has a good sense of humour… You don't mind do you?"

"Why would I mind? It's just nice that one of us is happy…" He trailed off, a look of sadness in his eyes that hurt Duffy to see. He couldn't still be missing Holly could he? Something inside her told her that now was the time to tell him about Holly's return.

"Patrick," She said softly, "can we go somewhere a bit quieter. I need to talk to you." Curious, and more concerned than he cared to admit he agreed, making a gesture to James that they'd be stepping outside briefly. He then followed Duffy to set of French windows that led out of the main hall and onto a wide patio. They stepped into the warm night air.

"Go on then".

"Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask…" He replied wondering what was coming next.

"I wanted to ask…do you still miss Holly?"

"Holly?" Patrick reiterated, taken aback, "What's she got to do with anything?"

"Please Patrick, I just need to know…"

He took a deep breath, "I miss her, like, I suppose, you miss Andrew." Duffy knew that if she had the chance to see Andrew again she'd take it, no matter how painful it might be.

Patrick wished he could read her mind. After carefully avoiding the subject of Holly for so long he couldn't understand why Duffy would start bringing her up again now. But there had to be a reason.

"So if you could see her again, you'd want to?" She already knew the answer.

"Yes" he answered instantly, "Why?"

"When you arrived at the house earlier… the thing that Andie told me… I know where she is Patrick. She's alive and well, and I know where she is."

"Where?" For some reason, she wasn't expecting that for a response.

"Er, she's working at St. Mary's. I'm not sure where she lives…"

For a second he let the information sink in. She was alive, like he'd always known she was, and she wasn't even that far away. He had to see her for himself, and his heart started to beat wildly at the very thought that he might. Any rational thoughts he had were swiftly sidelined, seeing Holly again was all that he could think about.

"I have to see her!" he said to no one in particular striding purposefully back to the main hall.

"Patrick!" Duffy called after him. He stopped and turned back, and she saw him smiling jubilantly. He walked quickly back to her and pulled her towards him, planting a kiss on her lips as he did so.

"Thank you for telling me." While she was still reeling from the shock he had turned again, shouting as he disappeared, "Sorry about this Duffy, James will look after you!"

Then he was gone.