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Editor's Note: This story contains more swearing than most stories here on the Guild.

Chapter Nine

Stacy ran and leaped into Martin's arms, squealing, laughing, hugging, and kissing him. When he let her go he held her close to him as he looked down at her. "It took you forever to get back," he admonished.

Her smile of delight didn't diminish as she wrinkled her nose and said, "Unfortunately my piece of crap car broke down on the way there and had to be fixed before I could make my way home."

"We will have to do something about that, then, to prevent future delays."

"Will we?" she replied, eyebrows raised.

He kissed her again and then tucked her under his arm as they strolled through Hyde Park.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I brought some food to munch on. I just wanted to get out of the city."

"Hyde Park is still very much inside the city."

"But it's the closest you can get to countryside without travelling for an hour. If you're cold you can take my coat."

"I don't think so," she replied with a warning look.

"I don't offer because of that. It is well known by my colleagues that I tolerate colder temperatures than most people. My house is cold to most people."

She let it slide and instead started to peek inside the Sainsbury's bag.

"Unh uh. Not yet."

She pouted.

"Tell me how the weekend was."

"It was so much fun."

He looked her over and said, "You look to be all in one piece."

"Only just. That bloody corset is torture!"

"I bet."

"And Fries played for us. The guitar and the piano. Everyone loved him."

"I'd like to meet him sometime," he said, without thinking.

"Ah, yes, well... maybe someday you will," she replied evasively.

Martin saw this as a good opportunity to break out the food. He produced sausage rolls, fruit tarts, raw carrots to munch on, and two bottles of Lilt. "You like?" he asked.

She nodded and took a carrot to munch on. "Why carrots?"

"Because they give you good eyesight."

"But I heard you have to eat a ton of carrots to ever have that effect."

"Better start now then."

"Why don't we go see a movie?"

"What, tonight?"

"Or tomorrow or sometime. You never seem to get out."

Storm put a bookmark in her book and considered the idea. "I suppose we could. What do you want to see?"

"I don't know. Something good."

"I hope it'll be good. What's the point in going otherwise?"

"For fun."

Storm laughed a little and replied, "You have strange, random notions sometimes."

"Thank you."

"Anyway, how did it go with the caterers?"

"It went well. We decided on a menu of finger foods and some punch and fizzy apple juice. So there won't be any alcoholic drinks there."

"How much is it going to cost?"

"A lot. But I'm expecting to get financial help from the various foster siblings."

"Good. So what's next?"

"Entertainment."

"I thought we'd established you were going to play."

"I'll play, but I don't think I should be The Entertainment. Let's get something else."

"Like what? You're the musician."

"That has nothing to do with it."

They thought for a several minutes. "DJ?" asked Storm.

Fries wrinkled his nose a little and looked dubious.

"How about a live jazz band or something?"

"That would definitely be pricey."

"Don't you have friends or something who would do it for free?"

"It would still be right for us to pay for their expenses and since they tend to be all over the world with busy schedules, it would be difficult and expensive."

"A comedienne or comedian?"

"Are you serious?" asked Fries, looking up at her.

"I guess not. Well you think of something."

"I can't think right now," he said with an exasperated sigh. I can't seem to think at all around you.

He lay down on his stomach on the sofa, his legs hanging over the armrest. He looked exhausted. Storm stood up and walked over to him and with a concerned voice asked, "Are you all right?" She felt his forehead, which seemed normal.

"I'm fine," he mumbled.

"Do you need a back massage?" she asked.

"No, I don't," he replied strongly.

"Come on. It'll make you feel better after a day at the piano."

"Storm, no..." he began to protest, positive that she would sense what was the matter if she did give him one of her wonderful massages that seemed to reinvigorate him when his back ached from hunching in bad posture over the piano for too long. His protest however died on his lips as she began to kneed his muscles and provide some relief from the ache. More especially, however, was the exhilarating feeling he had recently begun to get from physical contact with her. His heart was racing and he tried his best to hide these signs from her.

Slowly she worked her magic until he was a submissive mass of sleeping musician. When she realised he'd fallen asleep she stopped and would have pulled the sofa into its bed position except it would wake him. Instead, she lay a blanket over him and quietly got ready for bed herself.

Storm nearly audibly groaned when she looked up to the sound of the bell above the door only to see that it was Mr. Elson. She caught herself in time however.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Elson."

"Afternoon, Ms. Bennet."

"What can I do for you?" she asked with a forced smile.

"I thought you would be interested to know that we are getting a new stock of Bibles you would definitely like."

"Oh?"

"The International Bible Society has announced it is publishing Today's New International Version. It changes language to be gender inclusive. It should appeal to you feminists."

"That's wonderful!" Storm cried. She could see, however, that Mr. Elson did not think it so wonderful. "When you have them in, I will display a sign advertising it and telling them to go next door to you for them."

"I do not need your help with business."

Storm let her patience slip. "I'm not doing it for you. I think my customers would benefit from such knowledge of a proper Bible at last."

"It is in no way, shape, or form a 'proper' Bible, Ms. Bennet. It is an abomination."

"Well..." Storm gritted her teeth. "It's so kind of you to drop by."

Mr. Elson took this as his good bye and left the offensive shop.

Behind his back, Storm made an obscene gesture with her two fingers.

Storm wasn't in Wild Iris when Ana and Fries planned the meeting with her mysterious email friend. She wrote him and suggested Goa's as a suitable place for lunch. Since it was a business card that had prompted their friendship online, they decided that whoever got there first would prop a business card on the table in full view. The only thing that remained to be decided was when. Ana made some vague excuse about being busy and having to make the appointment at the last moment. Martin seemed to fine with this.

Fries would be playing at the piano before the arranged meeting time, and he would just keep an eye on the proceedings just in case.

"But don't be nosy, all right?" she warned him.

Fries grinned back cheekily.

They decided to keep the recent developments from Storm until some later date. Fries wasn't so happy with that arrangement, but Ana had a genuine fear of being persuaded out of this somewhat uncharacteristically rash move.

While Martin had her undivided attention, he decided to put to Stacy the question that had been bothering him for some time: "I've made this friend online. She's lots of fun and really interesting. I'd like to meet her for lunch or something just to get to know her better. But I don't want you to take this as anything more than a friendship." He could see some signs of hurt and doubt in her face. He gently took her chin in his hand and made her look at him as he leaned in close. "You matter much more to me. If you don't want me to continue this friendship with her, then I won't."

She sulked a little and replied, "Then you would think I don't trust you. But I do trust you. I'm just a little jealous that she can be so interesting."

"You're just as interesting. You two are actually very different."

"Yeah, go ahead and meet her."

"It'd be wonderful if I could introduce you two! But that's assuming that she's in person what she is like online."

"Isn't that weird though, that there is person you have never seen in your life that knows you?"

"It is a bit. But most of the time you just forget about it. Come on, let me buy you another round."

"I'm going to regret this in the morning."

"The morning is so far away, my dear!"

Stacy smiled up at him. He leaned down and kissed her gently.

"Excuse me sir. We don't allow lovey dovey kissin' in t' pub," teased the bartender.

"My deepest apologies. I don't suppose you could forgive me enough to sell me another round?"

"Well... if yer a payin' customer..." the man replied with a wink.

"What are you up to today?" asked Storm.

"Why do you ask?" replied Fries, startled.

"Just asking."

"Oh. Nothing unusual. Practicing, playing at Goa's... we need to think of an idea for entertainment."

"I've already given you several suggestions and you didn't like them."

"Keep thinking of more."

Fries walked into Goa's later that day, nervous for the first time in that establishment. He greeted the waiters and waitresses and after arranging his music and opening the grand piano, he sat down, rubbed his sweaty hands on his trousers, and began to play a light piece that would soothe his nerves. He felt responsible for this meeting going well. He felt Ana deserved this happiness. He hoped it would work out well for her. And he felt it was his responsibility to make sure it did go well.

There was still half an hour before the proposed meeting time of noon. He had spoken to the hostess earlier, asking her to make sure that table number 9, which was in his line of sight but not close enough for him to eavesdrop, was kept unavailable for either his friend Ana, who would make herself known to the hostess, or to a gentleman coming in alone. That was the only description he could faithfully give. That and guessing the man would be around his age.

By the time it was noon, Fries had relaxed enough to play a West End favourite of 'All I Ask of You' from Phantom of the Opera. His eye was caught by the hostess seating a man at table 9. She looked at him and he just shrugged and nodded. A waiter came by the table and the man seemed to signify that he was waiting for someone to arrive. Then Fries watched with growing anticipation as the man took out a business card, and arranged it propped up against an empty wine glass near the end of the table for two. He looked around the restaurant, and out of the corner of his eye, Fries noticed he watched him for a few seconds. Fries studiously kept his eyes on the keys.

When he had a chance, Fries studied the man. He was perhaps in his later twenties, dressed in a pinstripe suit, and with a pleasing countenance. He was looking around the restaurant, drumming his fingers on the table and frequently looking at the door.

Fries glanced at the clock. 12:10. You're late, Ana! Have you changed to Stacy possibly? Has Storm kept you from leaving? Then he saw his friend walk into the restaurant. She looked at him and smiled nervously. Fries nodded to table 9 and her attention turned to the occupant. His back was turned from her as she told the hostess she was meeting someone.

Ana walked toward the table as confidently as she could. Fries guessed her heart must have been pounding. Ana was usually a shy person and this act would take a great deal of courage.

She reached the table and said in a hesitant voice, "Martin?"

He turned and startled visibly. At the same time, Ana gasped in horror. "Stacy?" he asked, confused.

"Oh my G**!" she exclaimed and turned away, running out of the restaurant.

Fries stopped playing immediately and was about to take after her before he realized it might be sensible to grab that business card on the table for future reference. He snatched it off the table and then turned to run after his friend.

"Hey!" cried the man.

Everyone in the restaurant had stopped eating to watch the commotion. This was definitely unusual behaviour for a pianist.

When Fries got outside into the street, he looked up and down for any sign of Ana. He saw a girl running up towards Trafalgar Square. He took after her, yelling her name. He soon caught up with her and grabbed her shoulder.

"Ana!"

She stopped, her face white with fear.

"For goodness' sake, tell me what's wrong!"

"Fries," she whimpered. "He's the man in the bed!"

She began to get hysterical.

"Hey, hey, calm down," Fries said soothingly. He took her in his arms and rubbed her back. "It's okay." His mind was racing. The man had called her Stacy. He must know her then. And it verified Ana's belief that this man was the one she had woken up with. How did this happen? Were the men Ana and Stacy were involved with one and the same? The odds of that were... incredible. There had to be some other explanation.

"Let me go and talk to him."

"No, Fries, don't! Please!" she begged.

"It's all right. We just need to sort this situation out."

She whimpered again and seemed on the verge of tears.

"Why don't you go home, and when I've spoken to him, I'll meet you there."

She nodded and began walking in the direction of her flat.

Fries watched her for two seconds before turning back to the restaurant. He saw the man walking out of Goa's and jogged to catch up. When he reached him, he clasped a hard hand on his shoulder and said in a low voice, "You have a lot of explaining to do."

The man startled and saw that it was the pianist. He recovered enough to say, "So do you."

They mutually decided on going to a nearby park. Both were silent while walking. Fries used this time to think. He had to sort this mess out. It was becoming impossibly tangled. They reached the secluded space and Fries turned to him and offered his hand, saying, "I'm Fries Bennet."

The man returned the handshake and said, "Martin Hurley."

"You seem to have caused rather a big mess. Can you explain how you know Stacy?"

"She's my girlfriend."

"Since when?"

"I knocked her over in the street one day about... two months ago. And I offered to take her out in an apology and things went from there."

"How do you know Ana?"

"Somehow she got hold of my business card and emailed me asking why. We sort of got into conversation and continued a friendship online. We've never met though."

"Well, actually, you just did."

"Excuse me?"

Fries could tell Martin was horribly confused, but was unsure whether it was his place to explain the mystery of Ana and Stacy.

"Did you give your business card to Stacy?"

"Yes, when I first met her, but what-"

Fries cut him off, saying, "Does Stacy ever act weird? Perhaps doesn't show up for arranged meetings, has to do things at the last minute?"

"Yes, but-"

"Listen." Martin shut his mouth and looked at Fries in a mixture of anger, annoyance, confusion, and fear. "Have you ever heard of multiple personality disorder?"

Martin nodded.

"Stacy's full name is Anastasia. She's a good friend of mine and the best friend of my adopted sister."

"I have heard her speak of you."

"Ana's full name is Anastasia. She is the other personality within that person. And somehow she found the business card you gave Stacy. She didn't know what it was about, hence the confusion."

Martin's eyes were wide and he sputtered in disbelief, "But... but..."

Fries continued. "Things might have been avoided if the two of them confided in each other. Ana and Stacy are like two completely different and separate people. And it is hard on them both having this disorder. Her friends just deal with it. And usually things go along fine. But Stacy didn't tell any of us about you. We knew she was sort of seeing someone, but she wouldn't tell us anything more. I knew about your email friendship with Ana, but you must not have ever considered the similarities."

Martin by this time had buried his face in his hands.

Up until then, Fries had held some animosity to this man who was breaking the heart of his dear friend. But he then realised how innocent this man was in the affair. It was all just a horrible misunderstanding. He also realised how hard it would be on a man to discover his girlfriend was also someone else.

"Look, I'll leave you to think about this. I need to go and find her. I'll have to explain to Stacy what has happened."

Martin didn't move.

Fries added, "If you need to speak to me again, come by Goa's during lunchtime. If you can avoid coming down to Wild Iris, that would be best. Storm, Anastasia's best friend, she doesn't know anything about all this."

Fries clapped the hunched man on the back sympathetically, and then walked away. As he made his way to Anastasia's flat, he considered what he was going to say to both Ana and Stacy. He knew that Stacy would be the most upset. It seemed that she had formed a close relationship with Martin, who, in all honesty, seemed like a decent chap.

When he reached the flat, he found Ana in much the same state as he'd left her.

"So?" she asked hurriedly.

"Sit down."

Ana curled up on the couch and looked expectantly, fearfully at him.

"From what I know, Martin bumped into Stacy one day about two months ago in the street. He offered to take her out in apology, and must have given her his business card. You found it, and that's where your email friendship came from. Stacy, meanwhile, started seeing Martin regularly, and is now your boyfriend. I mean, Stacy's boyfriend."

"Oh s***."

"And since neither of you speak to each other about this, he didn't know and you two didn't know what was happening."

Ana buried her head under a cushion. "What are we going to do?" came her muffled cry.

"I'll have to break it to Stacy first. And then I suppose it's up to Martin."

"Stacy is going to be so upset!"

Upset, was a complete understatement. She was sobbing hysterically in his arms after he had gently explained what had happened. He didn't even attempt to calm her down. She just clung to him tightly, hardly able to breathe she was sobbing so hard.

She broke away from him suddenly and staggered to the kitchen. Fries watched her, wondering what she was doing, until he saw her take out a large kitchen knife.

"Hey!" yelled Fries, and dashed across to her, grabbing the knife from her before she carried out her dark task.

She struggled with him, not letting the knife go without a fight. "Give it me!" she screamed.

Fries grabbed her wrist, putting pressure on the veins until she had to drop the murderous utensil. She collapsed on the counter in tears.

Fries took advantage of her preoccupation to take all the sharp objects in the kitchen and hide them from her.

When he'd turned around, he found her heading to the bathroom. That was fine. She needed a leak- that's legit. Alarm bells suddenly went off in his head and he dashed to the bathroom door just in time to stop her from slamming it in his face. She grabbed a bottle of pills and clenched them tightly in her fist.

"Stacy, give them to me," he commanded.

"It's none of your business, go away!"

"It is my business. You would be committing murder! Murdering Ana, who deserves to live even if you don't think you do. You have no right to decide for her if she lives or dies."

"We have a miserable existence!"

"You have nothing of the kind," he snapped back. "If you weren't so selfish, you would see thousands- millions- of people in the world who are so much more worse off than you. Starving, homeless, limbless, you name it. Come on, give me the pills."

"I don't want to go through a life without friends, without love!"

"That's rubbish! What do you call your relationship with Storm? With me? How do you know Martin is going to dump you and never see you again? You don't! Now give me the pills."

Stacy slid to the floor and hid her face in her hands sobbing again. Fries pried the bottle of pills from her hand and stuffed them in his pockets. He cleared out the cabinet of pills and hid them. He needed backup. He couldn't call Storm because she would have to know what was going on.

He decided to call West and Taylor. He moved Stacy to the couch and left her there so he could keep an eye on her while he called the couple.

"Hello?"

"It's Fries."

"Hey, Fries, how are you?"

"I need your help."

"What's wrong?" asked Taylor, his voice filled with concern.

"Stacy is going through a relationship problem. She's hysterical and suicidal."

"Oh f***! West isn't here, but I'll leave a note and be right over."

"Wait. Try not to let West know. I don't think Stacy will want everyone knowing about this later on. Oh, and can you bring with you, buy or borrow, a locker? Something that we can lock up potentially dangerous things."

"It's that serious?"

"Yes."

"I'll be right over."

He hung up, then called Storm. She picked up breathless. "Hello?"

"Are you okay?" asked Fries.

"Oh, hi. I just got in so I had to run to find the phone, which was conveniently hidden in your sheets."

"Sorry. Listen, I'm going to spend the night with Anastasia. I was just calling to let you know."

"Um, okay, thanks. Anything special?"

"No."

"...Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

He hung up and went over to Stacy on the couch. Her sobbing had calmed down to tears falling down her cheeks and occasional sniffles. He rubbed her back and said nothing.

Taylor showed up with a locker. Stacy had fallen into a fitful sleep by then, so Fries helped Taylor pile all sharp objects, chemicals, and medicines into the locker. When they had finished, Taylor asked for an explanation of what happened. Fries explained a little of the dilemma, but not in great detail for the privacy of Anastasia. He did stress that Storm was not to know either.

"Why?" Taylor asked.

"Ana and Stacy feel she would be against the relationship with Martin."

"Do you think he's going to dump them?"

"I don't know. He may not immediately. But I think he'll try it, lose hope and leave her for someone with less maintenance."

"But if you think about it, he has shown interest in both of them. Every other guy would be interested in only one of them."

"He only knows Ana through email. We'll see. Meanwhile, we need to get Stacy through this."

"She seems fine now."

"You should see the bruises I have from her earlier struggles. And it's not like I could call the psychiatric people. They'd just label her insane and put her away."

"You don't know that."

"No, I don't. But what use would they have been? They wouldn't have understood why she was in such a state and would have sedated her or something. We can watch her and make sure she gets over this."

"What if she doesn't get over it?"

"She will," came Fries' firm reply.

Together, they moved Stacy into her bedroom and tucked her into bed. Fries arranged some blankets and pillows and cushions from the sofa on the floor of her bedroom and laid down to sleep himself. Taylor promised to check in on them periodically, and left.

Stacy didn't make any more attempts on her life, but she hardly cheered up any more. Fries convinced her that going to work would be much better than moping around the flat all day. The presence of the ignorant Storm forced Stacy to look and act normal no matter how depressed she felt inside.

Ana was better off, but still sad over the whole situation. Just from the state she often found herself when she awoke was enough to tell her Stacy was not taking this well at all. Though Fries never told her and they never spoke of it, Ana guessed why dangerous objects had been locked away.

Fries continued to spend as much time as he could with Anastasia. He took her out to movies and to plays. Sometimes with Storm. She came to Goa's more frequently and just sat listening to him play. She would just sit with a drink in hand and seemed to go off in her own world, daydreaming. Stacy didn't show up as often as she used to. Ana didn't know how to explain it, but it was almost like Stacy was wasting away.

Fries began to nourish angry thoughts toward Martin in his mind. Until Martin made some clear indication of either never having anything to do with Anastasia, or giving it a second chance, Fries felt as if he was in limbo. He was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It finally did a week later. Martin walked into Goa's one afternoon. Fries noticed him first. Ana was in one of her usual dazes. Martin nodded at Fries, who just nodded back. Martin then spotted Ana sitting near the piano. She was swirling her drink lazily with a spoon, just staring into its hypnotic patterns.

Martin walked over to her table and said, "Mind if I join you?"

Ana looked up startled. Fries noticed she had another gut reaction of fear at seeing the man who had instilled such fright in her one night. But she still assented. He pulled out the chair and sat down. He didn't say anything until he'd ordered a drink.

"I'm sorry," he began.

"It's hardly your fault," she replied.

There was another pause. "How... how do I know... who you are?"

Ana avoided looking at him, continuing to focus on swirling the ice cubes around her glass. "You'd do better to ask Fries and Storm that. I am Ana."

"Ah. It's nice to meet you."

Ana laughed a little uneasily. "Likewise, I guess."

"I enjoyed your emails."

"I enjoyed yours in return."

There was another long pause. Martin ran a hand through his hair. "This is so awkward for me. You look so much like Stacy..."

Ana looked up at him raising an eyebrow. "Of course. She inhabits the same body."

"Yes, right... I know. I can't get used to it yet."

"It's hard to look at you, too."

"Why?"

Ana flushed deep red as she said, "Because of one night I woke up in a stranger's bed."

"Oh Hell!" he whispered and buried his face in his hands. "That's what happened."

"Does this start to explain a lot of odd behaviour?" she asked, knowingly.

He nodded.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm sure she didn't want to leave."

"Good grief, this must be hard on you."

"Not as much as Stacy, I'm afraid."

"Why, what's wrong?"

Ana stared at him incredulously, then calmed and asked, "Did she ever give you any indication of strong attachment?"

Martin paused. "Yes, yes I believe she did."

"Every other guy we've dated in the past has dumped us because of our condition. Stacy is attached to you... you find out... therefore she loses someone she cares very deeply for."

"But I didn't-- I'm not..." he sighed gustily. "I only needed some time to think about this. I haven't been able to think about anything else!"

"What are you going to do?" Ana asked, looking at him keenly.

"I'd like to... try, to attempt... this."

"What do you mean?"

"I like you. And I like Stacy a whole lot. I want to get to know you better. Both of you. I don't want any more skeletons in the closet. It'll take a lot of getting used to, but I don't want to lose both of you. Could I not continue to date Stacy and become friends with you?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I am."

Ana was at a loss for words. Her eyes began to fill with tears. "Please," she began.

"Please what?" asked Martin, leaning forward to her. "Please don't?"

"Please, don't get our hopes up only to break them."

"I'm not. I mean, I can't promise anything, but I will never hurt you intentionally and needlessly. I want to try this."

She nodded.

"We can start by having that lunch together. Do you have to go soon?"

She shook her head.

Fries wanted to leap for joy when he saw the couple open menus. Behind its cover, Ana gave him a tentative smile. When he had finished his current song, he began to play an arrangement of a Beatles song called Getting Better which had the chorus of "It's getting better all the time". Ana noticed it and smiled wider at him.

When Ana and Martin had finished their leisurely meal, Ana said she had to be returning to the store.

"How can I get in contact with you again?" he asked.

Ana borrowed a pen from him, and wrote her home phone number down on the back of one his business cards. "When you call, make sure you identify yourself. Then we usually say who we are. Only Storm can really tell on the phone which one of us answers. And you have my email."

"How can I get in contact with Stacy?"

"She hasn't been around much recently. But I suggest you ask Fries to call you when she is around. Go and talk with him. He's been seeing us through this past week."

"I at least owe him an apology and thanks."

"When you speak with Stacy, could you be careful please? I know it may seem like she's the tough one, but sometimes she's so fragile."

"Don't worry. I will make every effort to reassure her I have no intention of leaving just because... hmm, well, just because you have an unusual condition."

"Interesting way of putting it."

"Yes, very PC, isn't it?" he replied with a small smile that made Ana's smile in return.

"I really need to go. Storm is going to be wondering where the hell I am. Storm doesn't know about you still. And I'd like to keep it that way for a while."

"Why?"

"I don't think she would approve."

"That's what Stacy said."

"We agree on it then. It won't be forever. Just for now. You can come by Wild Iris if you want, but make sure Storm isn't there first."

"I hope to see you again soon."

Ana nodded. "Have a good afternoon."

She walked away, berating herself for saying such a formal goodbye. She wanted to hug him and just thank him for not leaving. She was feeling happier than she ever had before. Maybe things could work out.

Martin watched her for a minute, marveling at how similar and yet how different she was from Stacy. It truly was like they were two separate people.

He turned back and walked over to Fries who was finishing up his last song. When the last scale up the piano had faded and a couple of people clapped, Fries closed the piano and looked up at Martin. The man extended his hand, and Fries decided to forgive Martin of any perceived wrongs he'd been angry over. They shook hands firmly.

"I owe you an apology and a thanks."

"I don't know what the apology is for, but I accept the thanks, though I confess I was doing it more for Anastasia than for you."

"Understandable," Martin conceded with a smile. "Where are you going now?"

"I get to eat my free meal now."

"Do you mind if I join you?"

"Another meal?" Fries teased.

"I'll just have a drink."

"Sure. I'll just go and tell Sara that I'm taking one of her tables."

Fries informed the hostess and sat down across from Martin.

"Fries, my dear fellow! What is your pleasure today?" asked the waiter.

"I'll have that chicken in Stilton sauce, I think."

"And you sir," the waiter asked of Martin.

"I've already eaten. I'll just have a coke with no lemon, please."

When the waiter had gone, Fries asked, "So I take it you're giving this a second shot?"

"I would call this my first shot."

"Fair enough. Just go careful, especially with Stacy."

"Ana said the same thing. Why are you both saying this?"

"Because she has been through a tough time."

Martin sighed and ran a hang through his hair. "I should have spoken to her earlier."

"Maybe." So it's possible Fries hadn't completely forgiven him.

"Will you call me as soon as she...."

"I'll get in touch with you when she finally comes around."

"Here's my business card." He wrote two numbers on the back. "Call me at work, at home, or my mobile phone. It doesn't matter what time it is or where. I want to speak with her," he reiterated firmly.

Fries pocketed the card as his food came. "Thanks," he told the waiter.

"How do you tell the difference between them?"

"You learn. I did. I can't give you any clues. You learn your own ways. You'll probably notice them doing something differently from the other. They even have two completely different styles of handwriting. A handwriting expert wouldn't tell that they are the same person."

The two men continued to talk about various things. Martin explained what he did for a living. Fries recounted what it was like to be world-class musician. When Fries had finished his lunch, they walked out and said goodbye.

Fries walked to Wild Iris. Storm was stacking some stock on the shelves. She looked up as he came in. "You've been a long time."

"I just played a bit more than usual."

Ana was helping someone at the counter. Fries flopped onto the couch in front of the window. When Ana was free, he asked her, "Would you like to rent a movie tonight?"

"Sure. You'll have to get it though since I'm here until closing."

"What kind of movie are you in the mood for?"

"Anything good, really."

Fries laughed, saying, "Are you trusting my judgment?"

"Don't abuse it," she warned in good humour.

Storm was silently watching their interchange, feeling somewhat hurt and left out. She also felt jealous for some reason. Jealous of what, she could not tell.

Ana seemed to suddenly remember Storm and said, "Oh, Storm, you can come too if you like."

Storm forced a smile, replying, "No thanks. I have a book I'm in the middle of."

Later that evening, Ana and Fries were enjoying pizza while watching The Great Escape. Ana had said she wasn't in the mood for a chick flick to Fries' relief. He didn't mind them all that much, but they were more geared towards girls.

"What movie is this?" she said suddenly.

Fries looked at her sharply. "Uh, this is The Great Escape, remember?"

"Oh. I haven't seen it before. What's going on?"

"Stacy?"

"What?"

"Just checking. Um, are you going to be hanging around for a while? I need to make a phone call but I want to speak with you, ok?"

"Sure."

She seemed normal, though not like Stacy's usual lively self.

Fries dashed into her bedroom holding the portable phone in one hand and Martin's business card in the other. He dialed Martin's home phone number first. He succeeded on the first try.

"Hello, Martin Hurley."

"Martin, it's Fries."

"Is she there?" asked Martin eagerly.

"Yeah. But she comes and goes pretty fast. Can you come over to her flat?"

"I've never been before. Where does she live? She always led me to believe she lived far out of the city."

"Hardly. She lives in Holborn."

"I'm sure I can get a cab there in twenty minutes."

"Wait, let me give you the number here so you can call before you come up. I don't want Stacy freaking out if she finds out you're coming."

"That's not a good sign."

"Don't worry. You just get here." Fries gave him Anastasia's telephone number and then hung up.

Fries sat down and suavely explained that he had to call Storm and tell her he was there.

"Are you hungry? There's one more piece of pizza left."

"I don't feel hungry," Stacy replied, reaching for the piece of pizza. "But I think it fair that I get to taste at least one slice."

"We can change movies if you want. Or start it from the beginning."

"Yeah. This isn't making sense to me. And I want to watch it sometime. Just not now."

"What are you in the mood for now?"

She grinned a little wryly. "Something happy."

"Are you suggesting a chick flick?" Fries mock groaned.

"Not necessarily. I wouldn't call a Jane Austen film a chick flick."

"It's worse."

"You pick one then."

"Ana was in the mood for classics. We also rented Bringing Up Baby with Catherine Hepburn and Cary Grant."

"Sounds good."

Fries changed the movies and they sat back to watch. Stacy was put into a better mood, but Fries was too nervous with excitement to relax and enjoy the movie. Finally, the phone rang and Fries leapt up, telling her, "I'll get it. You watch the movie."

He took the phone more out of her hearing and answered it.

"Hello?"

"I'm outside the door. Is she still...?"

"Yeah. Give me a minute and I'll be right down."

Fries hung up and began to take the rubbish out of its bin. He grabbed the empty pizza box and said, "I'm just going to take this down to the dustbin."

Absentmindedly she nodded.

Fries left, leaving the door propped open and took the elevator to the ground floor. He walked out and met Martin standing there in slacks and a woolen jumper. He was fidgeting nervously.

"Hi."

"Let me just dump this. It was my excuse for leaving the flat."

Fries tossed it into the dumpster and then, dusting off his hands, he rejoined Martin and led him into the foyer and into the elevators.

"Ana and I were watching The Great Escape when Stacy suddenly appeared. She changed the movie to a happier one."

"How is she?"

"Still lackluster, but improved."

"Improved from what?"

"From earlier."

The elevator opened and Fries went into the flat. Stacy was still lying on the sofa watching the black and white movie. "Stacy?" called Fries.

"Yeah, I'm still here," she replied.

Fries led Martin through the hall and said, "Stacy, there's someone here to see you."

She looked up with curiosity and then saw Martin standing there uneasily beside Fries.

"Oh f***," she said quietly in shock.

"Hi," was all he could manage in return.

Stacy sat up, running her fingers through her hair to straighten some of its tangles. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "Fries, how could you let company in when my flat's so messy?"

Fries laughed. "I'm sure Martin doesn't mind or notice."

Martin agreed.

Nevertheless, Stacy began to pick up Lilt cans and napkins that were on the floor. She stopped the movie and turned the TV off. She turned on a couple of lamps and threw her blanket over the back of the couch.

Martin and Fries had watched her in silence. Fries realised he had to leave the picture, and said, "I'll just...uh, I'll just... go and... um, check my email online in your bedroom, ok?"

Fries left the two of them alone, hoping for the best.

"How did you know where I live?"

"Fries told me."

She rolled her eyes. "Great friend."

"I told him to," said Martin quietly. "I wanted to speak with you."

"It's okay," she said in a semi-choked voice, her back to him. "You don't have to say anything. Fries told me."

"Stacy, no, that's not...." He stopped. Then said, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I... I just wanted to pretend to be normal for a while. I wanted to ignore it and make it go away." Stacy began to cry.

"Was I just a fling then? Something to make you feel normal?"

"No!" she cried, finally facing him fully. "No. I wanted to tell you so many times. But I knew that once you knew, that would be the end. And... and... and I was hoping to prolong the inevitable as long as possible."

"Why do you believe that I would leave?"

"Past experience," she replied bitterly, smearing the tears on her cheek with the heel of her hand.

"I wish you didn't think so low of me."

"Don't turn this on me."

"Isn't it about you? I never said I wouldn't have anything to do with you just because I finally found out you're not perfect!" Martin stepped forward and clasped her face in his hands, looking down at her intensely. "Stacy!" he whispered. "I care about you so much. I'm not going to dump you because of this."

"What are you suggesting?"

"I like Ana. She's really sweet."

"So?" Stacy wished he would get to the point- his eyes burned her insides.

"So I want to continue our relationship. But this time, I want it to be open and honest."

"You're joking."

"I wouldn't joke about this."

"But how could you do that?"

"We'll figure it out."

"But that's like dating two people!"

Martin thought about it for a minute. "Not really. I'll be friends with Ana. I don't think I became interested in both of you for nothing. Don't you believe in the ideal match for you out there somewhere?"

"I've never allowed myself to."

"I think it could work. I want to at least try. I don't want to lose you."

"Ok, I guess."

"That's not the most enthusiastic answer."

"I don't want to lose you more than anything, but I don't know how this is going to work out."

"Fair enough. We'll see, won't we?"

Martin kissed her softly on the forehead.

Stacy asked, "Do you want to stay and watch the rest of this movie with us?"

"I'd love to."

"Let me just go get Fries."

Stacy walked into her bedroom to find Fries in the middle of sending an email to Elizabeth and William. It was so tempting to tell them something about what had been going on with Anastasia, but they didn't know anything about his stay with Storm, so he had to resort to making up things he'd been doing. He turned when Stacy came in.

"Well?"

"We're going to watch the movie if you want to rejoin us."

"Stacy," Fries whined, wanting different information than she was giving him. "Come on."

"We're going to give it a try."

"Great! That's excellent." He breathed a mock sigh of relief. "Does that mean I can stop baby-sitting you now?"

"What do you mean?" she cried indignantly.

"You know exactly what I mean."

"If Storm isn't going to know, you're going to have to take me out an awful lot more if I'm to have an alibi."

Fries groaned.

Chapter Ten

A week later, Martin walked into Goa's and straight over to the piano. Fries greeted him with surprise, and when he'd finished the song, he gave the man his undivided attention.

"What can I do you for?" asked Fries.

"I came to have lunch with you, if you're free."

"If you don't mind waiting ten minutes until my shift ends."

"I'll sit and listen then."

Martin was seated by the host and drank a pint of Guinness while he listened to the gifted pianist. When Fries had finished, he carefully, reverently shut the piano and moved over to the table.

"Is there a problem?" was the first thing Fries said.

"No, no. No problems. Well, difficulties, of course, but not problems per se."

Martin and Stacy quickly regained the ground they had lost in the unusual transition to an honest relationship. So much so that one evening, after a lovely dinner cooked by Stacy, they found themselves in a heated, locked embrace. Stacy lay on her back on the sofa while Martin passionately kissed her.

"Hmm..." she murmured. "Martin?" she managed to say between kisses.

"Yes?" He returned to kissing her.

"You're... kissing me."

"Yes." Again Martin returned to her lips, finding it an exhilarating rush. Then he suddenly stopped, raised his head to look down at her. She looked up at him. "You're Ana, aren't you?" he said.

She nodded.

Martin dropped his head to rest besides hers, burying his face in the sofa cushion. He took a deep breath. His muffled voice said, "You two have got to stop switching like that."

"I'm sorry," came Ana's small voice full of emotion.

Martin raised himself and sat up. "It's not your fault," he said.

She looked smaller than Stacy somehow. Her face showed embarrassment, and sorrow. He pulled her up into a sitting position beside him, and enveloped her in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed heavily. He just stroked her long hair and kissed her forehead.

"Do you find it difficult adjusting to her lifestyle?"

"Yes, I do. Writing everything down so the other knows what's going on, making sure neither does something foolish. Ana never needs watching, but Stacy can be impulsive. Then there are times when they'll switch and it causes confusion."

Stacy continued to stir the tomato sauce as the oven warmed up underneath the hob. "Can you pick me some nice rosemary from the windowsill in my bedroom, please?"

Martin went to the small pots that lined the window with the most light. He picked some of the herb and brought it back to her in the kitchen. He found her looking around the kitchen in bewilderment.

"Something the matter?" Martin asked.

"What am I doing?"

"You're cooking cod with a tomato sauce."

"But I don't know how to cook cod."

Martin kissed Ana's cheek, saying, "Hello Ana. How was your day?"

"I think my day was yesterday actually."

"And how did it go?"

"As usual. What am I doing again?" she asked.

"Stacy was making cod and a tomato sauce."

"Oh dear. I'm sorry. Was it something special?"

"No, no. It doesn't matter. I'm pleased to see you."

Ana looked pathetic and about to cry as she said, "I don't know how to do this."

Martin slung an arm around her shoulders and said, "Now, now. We can try and do this together. She mentioned something about olive oil and adding herbs into the sauce. We poor the sauce onto the fish and the stick it into the oven for a while...."

Together they managed to save the meal from ruin.

"But overall things are going well."

"There hasn't been any more danger of her hurting herself, then has there?"

"Hurting herself?"

The previous evening, Martin had gone over to Anastasia's flat for dinner again. Ana had gone to shower after an exhausting day of Christmas rush in Wild Iris. Martin was startled, however, when he heard a smash followed almost simultaneously with a scream.

"Ana? Ana, are you okay?"

He walked to the door of the bathroom and pressed his ear to it. He could hear her swearing viscously interspersed with 'ow ow ow's. "Ana."

"I'm ok," she called out.

"Are you sure? What happened?"

There was a long pause. "Can you go to the hall closet and get the red hand towel please?"

Martin hesitated, then did her bidding. He brought it back to the bathroom door. "What do you want me to do with it?"

The door opened two inches, a hand snuck out, grabbed the towel from his hands and then slammed the door in his face.

"What are you doing?"

"Go away, Nosy."

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me."

"Grow up!"

Martin persisted, seriously this time. "Ana, what did you do?"

"I didn't DO anything! Someone stupid, like Stacy, left a glass of water on the counter and it fell."

"I'm coming in," he announced.

"No! I'm not dressed!"

"Then wrap a towel around you."

"I can't."

"Do you need me to get a bigger towel to fit around you?"

"Some glass cut my foot pretty badly."

"All right. Now I really am coming in."

"Martin, don't!"

"Ana," he started, frustrated with her. It wasn't like he hadn't seen her body naked before. "It's okay. You need seeing to."

"I'm fine here."

"What are you going to do? Let it bleed?"

Silence.

Martin put his hand on the doorknob and slowly turned it. He kept his eyes down, but couldn't help noticing she was desperately trying to cover herself with her bath towel while sitting on the toiletseat, holding the red towel to her foot. Water and glass were all over the floor. Martin stepped carefully. He knelt by her foot, keeping his back to her.

"Let go," he commanded, taking the towel from her. The wound was still bleeding quite a bit. "Do you have any tweezers?"

"They should be in the top drawer on your left."

He rummaged through the drawer and found a pair. Then he began to take the pieces of glass out of her foot. Neither spoke as Martin concentrated on his task. Every now and then he sensed her fidgeting and pulling the towel up again.

Finally, he had cleaned the wound and found something to bandage it. "I don't think you need to go to hospital."

"You're damn right I'm not going to hospital."

He ignored the remark and said, "Here, give me your hand."

"What are you doing?"

"You need to get dressed and I'm going to help you."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"I don't think so. I'm ok."

"You are the most stubborn person I know," exclaimed Martin in exasperation, swooping her up into his arms and carrying her away from the bathroom full of glass and into her bedroom. She protested and exclaimed, trying to keep her body covered by the towel.

He dropped her onto the bed and then proceeded to throw underwear, trousers and a shirt at her. "Here."

She glared at him, which he understood as his dismissal.

"She's mentally stable, if that's what you're asking."

"I'm glad. Good. Was there anything in particular you wanted to talk about?"

"Not really. Just wanted to have lunch with you and chat."

"I don't know if Anastasia has spoken to you about Christmas, but I thought I would just warn you that usually she and Storm celebrate it together. Storm doesn't go home to her family because of having the store to tend to, and since Anastasia hasn't had anyone in the past.... I'm just saying this because if you are still to be kept a secret from Storm, then it'll mean Anastasia spending Christmas with Storm."

Martin nodded. "I have family down in Kent to visit. We'll do something special together on Boxing Day or some time. What about yourself? Are you going home for Christmas, leaving Storm here?"

"No, I'm spending Christmas lightening people's lives who have no family for Christmas."

"Really!"

"I can't say much more than that for now."

Fries was busy finalising the plans for the anniversary and preparing for the series of chamber concerts that had been hastily arranged by his manager for the month of December. He had had to call William and Elizabeth and tell them he would not be able to make it for Christmas that year.

"But Fries," Elizabeth had complained, "This will be the first Christmas you've missed with us!"

"Exactly, it's the first one I've missed. That's a pretty good record, I'd say!" replied Fries. "Besides, you didn't let me finish. The reason I cannot make it is because I'm doing a sort-of concert on Christmas day at an orphanage. It'll be for kids who don't have any family to celebrate the season with. I'll be playing some favourites like The Bumblebee, and I'll probably end up playing Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer with the kids singing along."

There was silence for a few seconds, then Fries heard William burst out laughing. When Fries' father had stopped laughing enough, he said, "You should see the look on her face, Fries. She wants to protest but yet she knows full well how hypocritical it would be."

"Hey," retorted Elizabeth. "Don't go putting words into my mouth. I think it's a wonderful idea, Fries, and of course I won't complain when you cannot make it for the holiday."

"Will Storm make it this year?" asked Fries.

"I doubt it. You know she has the Christmas rush at Wild Iris."

"Wild Iris?"

"You know, the store that she has been running for five years."

"Oh yeah. So when does she usually make it out there?"

"Some time in January when the flight costs go down."

"Well I promise to make it up to you both."

"We'll miss you," said William.

"Yeah. I'm sorry I won't be able to see you. But doing this makes me feel good about myself. This whole month has been completely different for me. I'm doing several charity chamber concerts and I've decided I want to become an ambassador of classical music to children. I don't think they're exposed to it enough nowadays."

"You're too right," agreed Elizabeth. "And it sounds as if you have a noble task set out for you."

"You make us very proud, son," said William.

"You can be proud of me when I've accomplished something. For now, we'll just see how successful it is."

Martin and Anastasia continued to develop their new relationship. It still proved to be difficult and rough going, but both were determined not to let small things get in the way. Fries was heavily involved with the fledgling relationship, reminding Anastasia of dates and helping to cover from Storm.

Fries' dislike of hiding such a big thing from Storm increased every time he had to lie to her, deceive her, and especially when she must suspect something was going on. She was good, however, and did not inquire too much.

Fries' feelings for Storm did not quiet down as he had hoped/expected them to. Instead, they increased. He found he had to begin reigning in his thoughts if they went too far. If he watched her moving around the flat, he would sometimes begin to fantasize in ways that made him suddenly wish for a cold shower. And yet these thoughts scared him much more than the first ones. Those thoughts were ones of lust, which he greatly despised if they were not backed by something more solid. On the other hand, lusting for Storm meant that she truly had stopped meaning any kind of familial relationship. Instead, Fries found himself wishing he were strong enough to say something, all the while knowing he would never be that strong. He just watched Storm surreptitiously from afar while he painfully maintained the veil over her eyes that concealed Anastasia's burgeoning relationship with Martin.

December went by even more quickly than November. Fries had concerts at least twice a week, and sometimes more. He enjoyed the ones with the children. They had a freshness but also presented a challenge. If children were bored with his music, they let him know about it. ... By falling asleep and yawning visibly. At least in his usual concerts it was so bright on him and so dark in the audience, he couldn't see the people who snoozed through his performances. Fries was constantly having to alter his repertoire for the children's enjoyment. He soon learned which pieces were popular with the children. Movie themes seemed to be a common motif.

The plans for the anniversary were almost finished and the big day was only two weeks after Christmas. Storm was swamped with the holiday rush and the two of them hardly ever communicated any more. There were the times when they would talk about things having to do with their cohabitation, about plans, about business, but there were no more times of deep conversations and quality time. This partly had to do with Fries' fear of her realising some of the several things he was hiding from her. Not least the relationship between Martin and Anastasia.

Christmas came and went quietly. Fries was in a large London orphanage playing carols and songs to the children, who were happily sucking and munching on peppermint candy canes he'd brought. He ended up doing a second concert in a different orphanage in the east side of London, notorious for its poorer neighbourhoods. It was late by the time he returned to Storm's flat, but he felt good about what he'd done.

He walked in to find Storm and Ana cooking a vegetarian Christmas dinner. Ana's face lit up in delight when she saw him, and she walked over to give him a big Christmas hug when he'd divested himself of his overcoat.

"Happy Christmas," he said quietly, hugging her back fiercely.

Fries then called out a greeting to Storm and went to put his piano music away on its shelf.

The three of them sat down to a quiet meal, pulled crackers and read the jokes in good humour. But something was missing from this gathering that had certainly been there a month ago. Everyone was more distant. Fries didn't want to get too close to Storm, Ana felt the same way but because she felt guilty about hiding Martin from her. Storm suspected something going on between Fries and Ana, and was resentful for being kept in the dark, as well as being jealous. That was certainly an unexpected feeling.

After the meal, they opened some small gifts from each other. Fries had added to her collection of TinTin comic books, while Storm had given him a book of alternative guitar music with the intention of expanding his mind. Ana received a luxury bath set from Fries and a subscription to The Independent, a daily newspaper Ana preferred reading. Ana also took presents for Stacy to open when next she came around. And lastly, Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had come home with Storm to spend the holiday in a cozy flat rather than his usual bed in the back of Wild Iris, was given a fake mouse to 'play' with, some nice fish, and some toothpaste he both liked and needed.

On Boxing Day, both Stacy and Storm were kept busy during the post Christmas sales. They had a mini sale themselves, attracting more than their usual number of customers. Especially people who came into London specifically for the shopping. Fries, meanwhile, traveled up to Liverpool to do a chamber concert.

Stacy went over to Martin's flat in the evening, having a nice meal together, and then exchanging gifts.

All too soon, the holiday had passed and the New Year turned. Storm found herself alone for New Years for the first time in years. And it depressed her greatly. Fries later realised his mistake in leaving her alone on the biggest night of alcohol of the year. And though she may have been tempted to get drunk, she resisted, locking herself in her small bedroom, and drowning her sorrows in music and a good book. I confess to you, dear reader, that though she tried to act nonchalant and carefree, she did care very much about being so lonely. She was resentful and angry. She was hurt and confused. She decided she needed a change again. Out came her supply of dyes and scissors.

Fries saw the fruit of his mistake two days later when he returned home to encounter a very different storm. Her hair was an odd mottled reddish colour. In some places it was lighter red, in others auburn and in others it was in between. It was like a calico cat's fur. It was gelled into spikes since her hair had become long enough to do so.

He gazed at her for several minutes. "I like it," he finally said.

"Well I didn't do it to please you," she retorted somewhat harshly.

Fries wasn't offended.

One afternoon soon after New Years, Ana said to Storm, "I'm going out to Goa's to meet Fries for lunch."

Storm didn't reply. She scooped Colonel Fitzwilliam up into her arms to deposit him in the back room out of her way of inventory.

Ana watched her partner's inscrutable face. "Storm?"

"I don't see why you're telling me. You're not asking for permission, so just go."

Ana was hurt, but reasoned that her friend must be in a bad mood. When she entered Goa's and saw Martin, she smiled. She walked over to him, giving a smile to Fries at the piano.

Martin's face lit up and said, "Stacy?"

Ana faltered a bit, her smile diminishing. "No."

Martin couldn't help looking just a tad bit crestfallen. Ana sat down stiffly, still clutching her handbag on her lap, not yet taking her coat off. She didn't say anything for a while, and then said, "Martin, you don't have to put up with me. Why don't you just see Stacy? It would be for the best."

"Ana," he protested.

She cut him off. "I know that look on your face. You prefer to see Stacy. And that's fine. She was always first anyway. But don't humour me for the sake of sparing my feelings."

"Ana," he interrupted. "You have it all wrong. The look on my face was uncalled for, yes. But let me explain."

She didn't move, didn't look up, and didn't allow him any insight into what she was thinking or feeling.

"Take off your coat at least," he said.

She put her purse down and hung her coat on the back of the chair. She still wouldn't look at him.

"I miss you," he stated.

She looked up at him, seeing him in a bit of a dejected state.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I miss the old Ana who was in the emails. You don't tell me things like you would in email. I really liked that Ana. But you're different. And I wish I knew what to do to make the old one come back. You're holding back for some reason. Do you not trust me?"

Ana didn't reply for a minute or two, and Martin patiently waited for an answer. Finally she responded. "I'm sorry. I'm not chatty person as a rule. But in writing, things come out so much more easily."

"It must be in there inside of you somewhere. Let it out. Let it free. Be yourself. I'll love you for who you are."

Ana looked up to meet Martin's compassionate eyes. He reached across the table to caress her cheek.

"I'm going away."

"Excuse me?"

"I need to get out of here."

"Permanently?" asked Stacy.

"No, just for the day. For now."

"What's wrong?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Then why did you tell me this? Talk about it if you want to, but don't put any guilt on me if you're not going to tell me anything."

"I said I didn't want to talk about it. I'm just telling you you have the store on your own tomorrow."

"Fine."

The following day, Storm found herself in the heart of Surrey hiking through the fields on the public byways. England was going through a warm spell for January, so the temperature was comfortable as long as she kept moving. And that was exactly what she wanted to do. To keep moving, keep going away, keep her mind occupied on the task at hand. For some reason she had been uneasy and grumpy ever since the Madrigal Dinner. She couldn't explain it. She wanted to say it had something to do with Fries and Anastasia, but that was ludicrous. What was she jealous or something?? Storm laughed out loud. That woke her up. She wasn't supposed to be thinking about that. She was supposed to be keeping her mind on walking. That was it.

Of course her mind strayed again. Was it really bothering her that Fries and Anastasia seemed to be interested in each other? Shouldn't she be happy for them? Or should she just be mad that they seemed to be keeping it a secret from her? She let out a primal scream. Hmm. That felt better. She screamed again, then laughed, then began to weep a little. She felt so lonely. So depressed, so miserable. She couldn't explain how she could be on such a high at one moment, and then so low the next. Soon Fries would be going away and then where would she be? She missed him already, and he was only going around the country giving small concerts. The flat would seem so empty without him. But she knew all along it would only be temporary. She was lucky. It could have turned out so much worse. He could have been a jerk, an intellectual snob. Instead, he was kind, funny, witty- she could go on, but what was the point? They'd go their separate ways after the anniversary, and then maybe meet again for the silver wedding anniversary. Storm confused herself. What did she want? What was it that upset her so much?

When Storm returned to Wild Iris the following day, Stacy asked her in a forced cheerful voice, "How did your day off go?"

"Ok. I went walking."

"Where?"

"On the hills around Polesdon Lacey."

"I've never been there."

"It's nice."

Later that day, there was a lull in customers. Storm scooped up the Colonel and cuddled him in her lap on the sofa. "So," she said to Ana. "I understand you've got a love interest."

Ana looked startled. "You mean you know?"

"I figured it out."

"You're not upset?"

"Why should I be?"

"I don't know...."

"How serious is it?"

"Pretty serious."

"He must like you both."

"He does. I don't know how or why, but he does."

"Does he return your adoration?"

"He said he does."

Storm nodded, concentrating on not letting the tears flow out of her eyes. A lump in her throat prevented her from saying anything more.

"I kept wanting to tell you, but I was afraid you would disapprove."

"Well, you can stop worrying."

Fries left the following day for Bennet Mansion; Storm would follow him a few days later. Fries hadn't told his parents of his plans - he anticipated surprising them. He didn't relish lying to them about where he'd been the past few months, but he hoped the surprise waiting for them on their anniversary would be worth it. Over fifty people were coming and the entire mansion had to be set up to hold the banquet. It would take quite a bit of lying and finagling to bring this about. He had decided that Storm was right. The easiest way of doing this was to inform the two couples that something was being planned, tell them to go out for the morning and not to come back until 7. Then the rest would be a big surprise. But... there would be lots of cars parked in the drive and the road and they would suspect something. Maybe he could blindfold them and drive them back to the mansion himself. On second thought, putting them into a vehicle with no windows would be more pleasant. But where would he get one of those? Fries propped his chin into his hand and stared moodily out of the plane's window.

Something, it could have been anything, but something made him think of Storm. She had changed recently. It didn't mean he had stopped loving her. But he felt something was wrong and he wished he knew what it was. He enjoyed coming back to her flat after a tour of concerts. He loved just sitting at the kitchen table talking to her. He wished he could say something, anything to her. But knew that she felt nothing in return. And the last thing he wanted to do was jeopardise the easy relationship they seemed to have had since he had come to stay with her. She was so feisty, so unpredictable, so independent. She was everything that Jane was not.

Fries got off the plane and caught the bus out to the neighbourhood near Bennet Mansion. He walked the rest of the way, lugging his suitcase behind him. He was glad it was winter and he wasn't too hot. It had been a little over a year since he had been home. He had spoken to his parents a bit on the phone, but not as much as previous years since he had been at Storm's and they didn't know where to contact him.

Finally, he walked into the driveway leading up to the still-grand façade of the Bennet mansion. It needed another paint job, but he was sure they just hadn't got round to it last summer. Maybe next summer.

He walked through the open front door, and looked around. He could hear some squabbling going on in the computer room and Charles' voice above them settling the dispute. He took his suitcase up the two flights of stairs to his bedroom. He paused, looking inside it. Hadn't changed, hadn't been touched. He put his suitcase in the corner, and made a tour of his old room.

He suddenly stopped and quickly walked to the next room and opened the door into Storm's room. He hesitated, then went in. It looked like her room, but not fully. There were still aspects to the room he thought she had grown out of, and new phases she would inevitably have gone through. But it was her room nevertheless. He had very rarely ever entered it before. As children, she had kept him out. And as adults, he had respected her privacy. He felt she wouldn't mind now, though. Still, he closed the door, and took the elevator down to the kitchen. It opened and he saw Jane cooking something on the hob.

"Hello, Jane," he said.

Jane turned around, and gasped. "Oh my goodness, Fries!!" She came over and hugged him tightly. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"To surprise you all."

"Does Elizabeth and William know you're here?"

He shook his head, the grin of the Cheshire cat on his face.

"She's going to be so angry. She hasn't had a chance to get your Christmas gifts, and she anticipated having a bit more time, and warning."

"She should have known better," Fries laughed.

"Elizabeth is out picking up some of the kids, but William is in his office."

"I'll go say hello. Don't tell Mum I'm here."

"I won't. Just don't scare any of the kids, would you?"

"I was one of them once, I'm not going to go being cruel."

"I never said you would."

Fries left the kitchen and walked through the front hall to William's office. He knocked. He heard William's voice yell back, "If Charles has told you that it's Emmie's turn, I'm not going to tell you anything different."

Fries chuckled softly, left the door, and went across the hall to the music room. He deliberately left the door wide open, went to his old grand piano, left the top open, sat down and began to play a lovely piece of a concerto by Mozart. Two minutes later, he heard the office door open, and then William's voice cried out the pianist's name.

Fries ended the piece early with a flourish of scales, then turned on his stool to grin at his father. William moved his wheelchair forward to hug his prodigal son. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to see everyone. I had a lull in my concert schedule and decided to come and visit."

"I don't believe it. Why didn't you ring and tell us?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Well you surprised me all right!"

"I knocked on your door, but you yelled at me."

William laughed. "I thought it was Harry again. He's taken to trying and playing off his four foster parents. If one of us says something he doesn't like, he'll go to a different one and try them."

"Sounds like a good strategy to me."

"You would think that. You were a Lost Boy, too, once. How have you been? You hardly telephone anymore."

"I know, and that'll change, I promise. I've just been working on a special project for several months."

"For a while your mother and I thought you were pining over Jane in some remote village."

Fries laughed uneasily. "Not quite like that, no."

"How did things work out between you two?"

"It went ok. We said we'd remain friends, but somehow I doubt that."

"That's a pity."

"Yeah." Fries didn't really want to talk about Jane.

"How has your career gone?"

"Like I said, I'm in a bit of a lull. I'm taking a short break, and then I return to the concert circuit."

"Play something for me."

"What do you want to hear?"

"Something new you've been working on."

Fries turned on his stool, and began to play a piece by Copland he liked. It wasn't that new, but he figured William hadn't heard it before. When he had finished, William said, "You get better every time I hear you."

"I don't believe it. You just say that, or it's just been too long since you've heard me play."

"Elizabeth isn't due in for another half hour. Why don't you come into my office so we can talk before she comes."

When Fries was sitting in the easy chair in front of his desk, William asked, "Tell me all the news, son."

"I'd prefer to wait until Elizabeth gets here if you don't mind. Why don't you tell me what's new?"

William was content to sit there telling his son about all the new children, his new position in a different charity, after having found a replacement for his old one.

Soon, Fries heard Elizabeth right outside the door talking to one of the children. Then she entered and began talking to William without noticing Fries in the corner. William stopped her, smiling, and said, "Aren't you going to say hello?"

Elizabeth glanced at Fries and then her jaw dropped like the classic cartoon. "Fries!!"

Fries was grinning, on his feet and hugging her within seconds. Elizabeth hugged him tightly. She laughed a little. "Why didn't you warn us you were coming?"

William answered for his son, "He wanted to surprise us."

"You always had a mean streak," Elizabeth accused.

Fries loved coming home. It usually never failed to cheer him up. However, this time he still had a black cloud shadowing his happiness at being home. And that was Storm. He couldn't stop thinking about her, couldn't stop wondering what she was doing. He called her once to say he had got home safely, just so he had an excuse to hear her voice. He called a day later to ask her opinion on the flower arrangements, though he didn't need it. He didn't feel like he could come up with a feasible excuse for another call. She would start to get suspicious. Not that she would guess why he did it anyway. She was oblivious, completely ignorant of Fries' torment. For torment he felt it was. He longed for the days before he'd gone to stay with her, when life was simple. But then, the grass is always greener on the other side, right?

Meanwhile, he had to pretend like nothing was wrong, to seem casual and lazy like he was really just on holiday from his work for a few days, rather than preparing and arranging a large anniversary party. He had worked almost everything out. He had only to get his parents and Jane and Charles out of the mansion for an extended period of time beforehand so he could set everything up, and everyone could arrive. He had sort of promised a night's stay for quite a few people, so he also had to make sure enough bedding and space was available.

Bennet Mansion wasn't actually full to capacity with children. There were six in residence at the moment, with no prospect of more coming in the near future. Fries met Ron, whom he had spoken to on the phone. Fiona soon sought him out. She was a precocious little child, constantly questing for knowledge and asking questions. Fries was soon exasperated with her, but refused to let it show. He patiently answered her questions about the piano, how it works, how he played it so fast, how he could read music, how music was written, how it got put onto CDs and much more. The first time she saw it, Elizabeth just chuckled. She was relieved Fiona was pestering someone else for a change. William always somehow managed to avoid her or to stave off her questions by asking them of her.

The week of the anniversary began, and Fries found himself rushing to get last minute jobs done. It was becoming increasingly difficult hiding the evidence from the residents of the Mansion. Fries knew instinctively that if the children knew of the plans, the adults would soon know, too. Storm would be arriving the day of the anniversary, so he was on his own.

Storm meanwhile, had never felt so depressed in her entire life. She had suffered some pretty bad lows in her difficult early years, but none compared to what she was experiencing then. Ana seemed to sense something was wrong, and resisted the urge to talk about Martin. The last thing a depressed person wants to hear about is how happy other people are. Stacy was still unaware that Storm 'knew' about her boyfriend, and acted accordingly.

A few days before she was supposed to fly out to Bennet Mansion, she felt the urge to tell someone about her dilemma. Anastasia was quite out of the question. That left Taylor and West. She had known West the longest. He had seen her through the mess with Frank. She decided to go and see him. Leaving Wild Iris to Stacy's care, she took the train out to West Byfleet, and caught a bus to Wisley Gardens. The full name of the gardens was the Royal Horticultural Society Gardens at Wisley, but everyone referred to them as Wisley Gardens. She went into the office to the side of the garden shop, and asked the lady behind the desk where she would find West. After some inquiring on the transistor radio, she was given a map and directions to a flowerbed where West was currently working.

She took her time walking through the gardens. She attempted to formulate what she was going to say, but it all sounded silly. 'I'm in love with Fries.' 'I love Fries.' 'I'm lovesick.' All of it seemed so trite. West saw her coming and stood up, brushing the soil from his kneepads.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"I just needed to talk to you, but away from Taylor."

"I hope it's not something he's done, because you know I couldn't abide someone saying bad things about my Taylor," he half teased.

"No, it's nothing to do with him."

"Well, what is it?"

Storm couldn't quite bring herself to say it, so she said, "Have you noticed Ana and Stacy acting differently recently?"

"Well, she hasn't had much time for us, I'll admit that."

"But why?"

"I don't know."

"Because she's got a new boyfriend. She didn't tell me, I had to figure it out."

"Really?? I don't believe it. Who?"

"Who do you think? Who hasn't been here until recently, and who would she have met?"

"You don't mean Fries, do you?"

"I do."

"That's incredible!" West had a smile on his face.

Storm wanted to cry. "No! It's not incredible. Well, it is incredible, but not the way you mean."

West seemed to sense that Storm was not okay with this. He tempered himself and asked, "Why don't you like it? Surely you would be happy if your best friend went with your brother."

"He's not my brother!" she snapped.

This confused West sufficiently for him to shut his mouth.

"I don't ever think of him as a brother. We've never acted that way." She seemed to be arguing with herself now. "He's not, he's not, he's not," she whimpered, breaking into tears. "He can't be. He just can't. He can't love her, he can't. Please."

Storm had never behaved in such a fashion in front of West for as long as he had known her. She had blown up, she had sobbed her eyes out, she had been hurt and she had been angry, but she had never become such a pathetic mess before. West did what a friend is expected to do: provide a shoulder to cry on. He rubbed her back and ran his fingers through her short, mottled-red, pixie-like hair.

"What's your problem with this? It's almost like you're jealous."

She didn't say anything. Things suddenly started to click into place for West. She started to make sense, and he realised what her problem was. He hugged her more tightly, and said, "Are you sure it's Fries she's been with?"

Storm nodded.

"Does Fries return the feelings?"

"He's been acting weird himself, lately. I think so."

"He hasn't been around for you to know that. And you haven't seen them together enough. Until he tells you so, you must assume that this is just in Anastasia's wishes. You'll see him in a couple of days, so you can judge for yourself what his feelings are."

"As if enough won't be going on at the same time."

"Even if you don't get the opportunity to do it then, he'll have to come back here and say goodbye to us all and get his things. You can see then."

"How will I last that long?"

"I'm sure you'll manage."

"But what if it's true. What if he does love her? What will I do?"

"You will learn to live with it, like every heroine does."

"No. Most heroines get their man."

"I can't believe you're becoming like this! Whatever happened to all of your feminist theories of not needing men?"

"One's heart does not always obey one's mind."

West laughed softly. "So truly spoken."

"How did you know Taylor liked you?"

"Well, he gave me a pretty clear signal, dearie."

"What?"

"He kissed me."

Storm sighed wistfully.

"Are you done with me, now?"

"I should let you get back to your work."

"You could help me if you want to. It'll be therapeutic for you."

Storm usually would have said no, but it shows how truly upset she was that she accepted his offer. She rolled up her sleeves, accepted his kneepads from him, and knelt beside him at the flowerbed to dig the holes for the new plants.

The day of Storm's departure arrived, and she was running around frantically trying to pack and get everything ready for her absence. She had put the bags into the car, but had lost the keys. Stacy was supposed to drive her to the airport, and they would be late if they did not leave soon.

"Where are the keys?"

"You had them," replied Stacy.

"I can't find them." She began to toss the sofa cushions aside, digging in and looking for them. Not finding them she looked on the kitchen table, sending papers flying. No sign of them.

"Are they in your pocket?"

"Of course they're not in my f***ing pocket, I'm not that f***ing stupid!!"

Stacy realised how cranky Storm was, and didn't make any more suggestions.

Twenty minutes later, Storm found them in her pocket. As a result she nearly missed her flight, since there were delays on the A23. She said a perfunctory goodbye to Stacy and nearly slapped her when Stacy asked Storm to send her love to Fries.

Continued In Next Section