It was getting late by the time that the director's meeting at Tate Haulage finally came to its eventual conclusion. Somewhat predictably it had moved along as smoothly as ever, the directors at their almost inevitable loggerheads. Zo‘, with her usual eye on restraint and responsibility, had clashed furiously with her rather less level-headed brother, this time over the school buses contract. Chris wanted to expand the contract, perhaps providing transport for every school within the county - but then Chris Tate had never made any secret of his aspirations to own just about anything with wheels. It was Zo‘'s job to try and make sure that he didn't weaken the company's growing profits by leaping into the first available branch of the transport industry that happened to present itself most attractively. Chris, naturally enough, resented her voice of reason, and tended to combat it with the voice of blazing fury. Sean had long since become used to their violent clashes, but somehow they seemed to be a lot more furious these days. Perhaps it was simply that Laura, their former colleague, had managed to dampen the tension between the warring siblings, or perhaps it was just something to do with the time of the year. Sean remembered the pair of them fighting more frequently the previous autumn as well, right up until the day when Chris had been kidnapped. If it hadn't been for that, and his witnessing Zo‘'s desperation during the two long months of her brother's incarceration, Sean would never have believed that there was anything more to the pair's relationship than hurled insults, violent outbursts, and screaming matches that could last all day. How they managed to live together was quite beyond him.

As the last of the discussions - some of them actually quite civilised - finally petered to a halt, Sean pushed back his chair and stood up. As far as he was concerned he had spent quite long enough sitting in the office talking shop. It was time to go home, before his wife started to forget what he looked like. There had been enough problems in his life over the last few months for him to be determined to spend no more time at the haulage yard than was absolutely necessary. If Chris and Zo‘ needed a referee, that was just hard luck.

"I'm off." He shouted it unnecessarily as he headed towards the door, one arm slung into his jacket, the other reaching for the other, rather more elusive, armhole. The jacket flapped behind him as he went.

"So we see." There was a smirk waiting to be born on Chris's face. "Got a curfew now have you?"

"I promised I'd be back early. We're making an effort for Ollie." There was no real point in explaining - nor any reason why he should try. It was always difficult, though, to leave Chris's comments unchallenged. Chris nodded.

"Probably best. From what I hear you must be glad that the summer holidays are over. House still in one piece?"

"Very funny." Sean had finally succeeded in putting his jacket on. He hesitated in the doorway, wondering if it was worth throwing in some final riposte. Chris was back to toying with his laptop though, which suggested that the conversation was already at an end. Sean scowled, and gave the door a hefty pull as he left. It was impossible to slam, but he could at least show his anger by letting it swing violently backwards and forwards before it finally closed. Zo‘ raised an eyebrow at his departing back.

"You know, you really should be more polite about his family. If you ever have any trouble with Joseph, Sean's going to--"

"Firstly, I am not going to have any trouble with Joseph." Chris's hard eyes glittered dangerously. "Secondly, by the time that Joseph is as old as Ollie Reynolds, we will be long shot of Sean. He'll be forgotten."

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrows, looking more amused than intrigued. "How so?"

"If I have to buy him out, I will. This was always supposed to be Tate Haulage. I didn't think we'd be stuck with him for this long; I'm certainly not planning on extending our working relationship for another ten years."

"Of course not." She couldn't help smiling. In his more friendly moments, Chris actually quite liked Sean. Clearly he was currently experiencing one of his less friendly moments - which probably meant that she was the next target for a jibe of some sort. She rose to her feet. "Naturally I'd like to stay and chat about how we're going to lose our business partner, but I really have to be going. I said that I'd meet Frankie in the Woolpack later on. We're going on to a club tonight."

"Oh." His lack of interest was obvious. "I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time. All that exquisite music and intelligent company." He grinned. "Still, we might get lucky. Perhaps Frankie will run off with a DJ."

"That's not funny, Chris." She pulled on her coat and picked up a stack of files. Her brother shrugged.

"I thought it was. Are you going to be late back?"

"With a bit of luck. Frankie has some friends in Leeds, and we might stay the night with them if it gets really late. Why?"

"Just wondered. I've got some work I'd like to get done for Tate Technologies, and it's easier to do that sort of thing when the pair of you aren't in the way."

"It's nice to know that we're wanted."

"It's nice to know that you understand when you're not." He turned very quickly, snapping the laptop shut and putting it beside him on his chair. "I'll see you in the morning then."

"Probably." She watched him wheel himself to the door, and wondered for the third time that afternoon just why she continued to put up with him. The thought turned, as it always did these days, to the memory of the previous year, when she had been forced to face up to a life that didn't have him in it at all. Infuriating though he might be, that was something that she didn't want to have to face up to again. He paused at the door and glanced back at her.

"I thought you were in a hurry to meet Frankie?"

"I am." She put on a burst of speed, passing him at the door. "I suppose I'll see you tomorrow morning. Even if we don't stay the night in Leeds you'll probably be in bed when we come back."

"Probably." He still sounded faintly amused, which left her wondering what he was up to. She dismissed the thought. Chris was always up to something, and there was really no point in trying to work it out in advance. All that she could ever do was to follow along in his wake, picking up the pieces.

"Goodnight then." He was making no move to follow her, or to head towards his car. She had thought that he was heading home, but perhaps he had forgotten something in the office. She decided not to think about it anymore. More important, at least in the immediate future, was Frankie. Their club nights had been a successful venture just recently, especially since the arrival in town of Paddy Kirk's cousin Jason. Jason had struck a real chord with Frankie, which helped to paper the holes when their myriad cultural differences threatened to make tempers fray; and he made a good companion for the night. If only, thought Zo‘, with no small amount of amusement, he would stop trying to pull her resolutely straight business partner, Adam, then perhaps their club nights could really begin to go with a bang.

Behind her, at the top of the slope that led to the office door, Chris watched his sister depart. There was a calculating expression on his face, as if he were wondering how soon after she had pulled away it might be safe for him to put some plan into action. In the event he waited until her car had vanished through the gates, before, noticing the presence of one or two drivers in the yard, he turned about and vanished back inside the office. Once safely on the other side of the door, he took out his cell phone and dialled a familiar number - but one which, for security reasons, he had not seen fit to include in the phone's speed-dial memory. A female voice answered, and the smile on Chris's face became one less of calculation, and more of genuine pleasure.

"Charity." It was impossible to gauge her reaction to his call. He knew people well enough to be sure that she thought of him as something more than mere business - but beyond that she was a closed book to him. All the same, he thought that he heard a smile in her voice.

"Chris. What can I do for you?"

"Oh, I don't know. We can talk about that later. Zo‘ and Frankie are out for the evening, and I was wondering if you were doing anything tonight?"

"Would it matter if I was?"

"I don't know." He wasn't sure how to respond to that. Spending time with a prostitute was one thing - thinking about her other arrangements was quite another. "Are you free tonight?"

"For you, always." This time he was sure that she was teasing him, but he found that he didn't mind. Odd that he was prepared to take things from her that he would never have considered putting up with in others - especially since, of all people, Charity was a Dingle.

"Good. I'll send Terry round for you at eight."

"Terry?" She sounded uncertain. "Zac is--"

"I know what he thinks." Chris was grinning now, enjoying the subterfuge, and definitely enjoying dropping so much blame into the lap of his beleaguered assistant. "I can't come and pick you up, not with Joseph asleep upstairs. And somebody might see your car."

"Okay." She remembered Tony Simpson, and suddenly felt that it mightn't be such a bad idea if Terry did pick her up. If nothing else, he was a strong arm - and he wouldn't take any nonsense from anybody. She wondered if Tony might be planning to cause trouble, and hoped that that was something she wouldn't have to worry about tonight. She just wanted to forget that he existed, and not have to think about the things he was so sure she had witnessed. The problem was, if he really believed that she had witnessed them, how far would he go to make sure that she had no chance to tell?

"I'll see you then." Chris sounded odd, and she realised that she must have been a little distant. Funny - she hadn't thought that he would be the type to feel hurt. The truth was, though, that she didn't really know very much about him at all. She had no idea how he would react to anything, and she certainly never knew what he was going to do in her company. For a moment she wondered whether to tell him about Tony Simpson; then dismissed the idea. His business partner was married to a police officer - that couldn't bode well. Chances were that Chris was on first names terms with the whole of the local CID. No - this was something that she was going to have to handle alone. But as she thought about making something to eat, and maybe finding something to watch on television until it was time to go, she couldn't help wondering about Tony; and about whether or not it was going to be possible to deal with this by herself. The thought almost scared her. Despite everything that she had said to him, she really had witnessed all of the things she had been accused of seeing. She knew just what she was up against; and worst of all, the things that she had seen had shown her exactly what Tony and his colleagues were capable of. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was scared; and she knew, in her heart of hearts, that it was a fear that was very well justified.