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Chapter Text

It was a shock when he first saw her. A physical shock jolting his body backwards and making his jaw gape open. If it hadn't been for the pew hitting the back of his legs and shaking him back to the moment, he was sure he would have fallen over. He felt Carole Copeland's hand rest on his arm in an attempt to steady him. Pulling himself together, he closed his mouth and looked down into her kind, concerned face and gave her a grateful smile. No doubt she thought it was the sight of the coffin being carried down the aisle that had perturbed him, but it wasn't that. 

As the coffin was settled down, and the track playing on the sound system came to a satisfactory ending the officiant gave word for the mourners to be seated and the celebration of the life of Essie Harrison began. 

Henrik felt the welcome support of the wooden seat beneath him after his initial shock but despite his best efforts to calm himself his heart continued to beat ten to the dozen as adrenaline surged through his veins. He forced himself to focus on the words of the the sermon; 

" it was a life devoted to the needs of others, both in her chosen profession as a nurse but also in the care and attention she lovingly bestowed upon her family and friends. For Essie, the needs of others always came first." 

It was impossible for him to remain focused for long though, for he could not take his eyes off the elusive figure seated beside the grieving widower four rows in front of him. 

To the untrained eye she would have been unrecognisable; her hair was longer, almost shoulder length and a few shades darker, but to someone who had spent almost every moment whilst in her presence studying her moves, her mannerisms, memorising every curve and every wrinkle it was unmistakable. Those slim nibble fingers he had always admired so much, both in a professional and private capacity were now splayed out on Sacha's hunched back; a good friend offering him much needed comfort in his hour of need.

It was definitely her. The woman he had waited for his entire life; the woman he had nursed back to health after their mutual friend had attempted to murder her;  the woman with whom he had finally managed to share his feelings with; the woman he had spent one blissful night of passion with just over two years ago, during which she had confessed her own long held feelings for him. The same woman who had resigned from her job and left the country the next day and had not made contact with him since. 

Oh yes, there was no mistaking it, that was Roxanna Macmillan sitting in front of him. 

****

"Are you alright now Henrik?" It was the other woman in his life.  The kind, the sweet dependable person he never thought he needed, but, to his own astonishment, he was spending an unfathomable amount of time with. 

Carole Copeland had done something most women could never achieve, she had cracked his shell. She had made him do things, like salsa dancing, that were outside of his comfort zone. With Carole there was no need for the mask, no need to uphold the glittering image. With Carole he could be himself and it didn't matter if that Henrik was a little bit quirky or a little bit eccentric. It was okay because there was one thing he didn't need to do with Carole: he didn't need to impress her. It wasn't that kind of relationship. She accepted him for what he was, and he accepted her for what she was. They say opposites attract and in this case, there was no truer word. 

"Hmm?" He turned to look at his companion. They were standing outside the crematorium now. 

"You seemed a bit shook up inside when they brought the coffin in? It's so tragic, I know," she sniffed, seeking out a fresh tissue from her handbag. "When I saw my Dominic carrying that poor girl's coffin, I just couldn't keep it together. It's setting me off now…." Her voice quivered as tears pooled in her already red eyes.

Henrik rested a hand on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze,"yes, it is  tragic," he agreed. He hoped he sounded genuine because he meant to be but his mind was elsewhere, and his eyes were fixed on the door of the building. 

"I just can't stop thinking about Sacha and that poor child. Imagine losing your birth mother, then to go and lose your adoptive mother too. She was referring to Isla, the child Essie had not long adopted. "Makes me think of what could have happened to my Dominic if….." 

He could hear her voice but the words were lost on him, for at that moment Roxanna stepped out from the shadows of the building into the bright early autumn sunshine. He watched as she attempted to tuck her hair behind her ears as it swished around her face in the light breeze. She looked impeccable in a black pencil skirt that fitted neatly around her shapely hips and a knee length black trench coat set off by a brightly coloured chiffon scarf which was nonchalantly wrapped around her neck. 

He was granted a few uninterrupted moments to observe her before she glanced over in his direction and for a brief moment there eyes locked. Even from fifty feet away the brightness of her eyes struck him. A brief acknowledgement of him seemed to flicker across her face, even a small intake of breath but then her attention was taken by Fletch who appeared at her side and was saying something to her.  He watched on as she listened intently and nodded her head in supposed agreement and then she disappeared from his view. 

"Mr Hanssen…..?" he heard his name and spun on his heels to find Dom beside him. 

"Hmm?" He gasped, unaware of what he had missed. 

"I was asking if you were okay to drive Carole to Albie's for the wake? I'm in the car with Sacha. If not, I can ask someone else?"

Henrik glanced over at an expectant looking Carole,  "Yes of course," he said, re-establishing his composure. "I thought that was the plan anyway?" He gave Carole a reassuring smile and she smiled back, a slight blush in her cheeks evident. He felt his own cheeks blush in response before offering her his arm and chaperoning her towards the car. 

****

"Roxanna…? Are you okay? The car is waiting to leave…" it was Fletch, his head awkwardly craning around the door of the ladies toilets of the crematorium. 

"Yes….I'm just coming…." She shouted through the cubicle door which she was currently leaning up against. She had mentally prepared herself for today, for saying goodbye to Essie and for seeing Henrik again but she had underestimated the impact it would have upon her, especially the latter. She had felt his dark eyes piercing her own, but from that far away it was impossible to decipher his thoughts or feelings but she was kidding herself if she thought it would be anything other than contempt. 

She took in a deep breath and exhaled before opening the cubicle door and washing her hands. All she needed to do was get through a few more hours and then she would be gone again. 

Anyway, today wasn't about her or Henrik. It was about celebrating her friend's life and supporting Sacha. She would push all else aside and focus on the task in hand.

Chapter Text

The crowd in Albie’s was testament to Essie’s popularity, both as a colleague and friend. Henrik was sitting in a corner of the bar, his knees tight up to the table in front of him.  He was flanked on his left by Carole and Donna on his right. 

“Wasn’t the service beautiful,” Donna sighed mournfully.

“It was,” Carole agreed.  “I’ve always enjoyed that piece of music they played at the end,” Donna gave her a quizzical look.

“That one they used to play on the advert. You know the one with the fancy aeroplanes…. although that was probably before your time?” She mused,  reflecting on the age difference between the two women.  Donna shook her head, still none the wiser. 

“The piece of music is called The Flower Duet , it’s from the opera Lakme ,” Henrik injected. 

“Oh is it?” Carole said smiling up at him, a sense of pride beaming from her that she had the privilege of being in his company.  “Trust you to know that,” she gushed. 

He gave her a gentle smile back, knowing all too well that she was in awe of him.  There was no need for it though; he didn’t take any pleasure in this adoration.  He might have experienced a more classical education compared to the two O’Levels Carole had achieved at Holby Secondary Modern, but when it came to the things that really mattered, such as kindness, understanding and emotional intelligence Carole was far more knowledgeable than he was. 

“I have a recording of the piece and a libretto at home. You can borrow it if you like?”

“That would be lovely, thanks,” she beamed.

“Oh here they are,” said Donna, announcing the arrival of Sacha, Dom and Fletch.

***

An hour or so later, and with a few drinks under their belts, the atmosphere had moved from r espectful solemnness to an easy celebration that Essie would have been proud of.  Roxanna had not appeared though and, for a moment, Henrik wondered if she had been a figment of his imagination, triggered perhaps, by his unconscious thoughts.  

He had been thinking a lot about relationships recently, particularly those of the romantic kind and of course Roxanna had played a significant role in that over the last thirty years. So yes, perhaps she had been on his mind, but to the extent where he was now hallucinating? He thought not. 

Carole had been the main focus of his thoughts anyway.  Their friendship had been gathering pace recently and he was starting to question if it was more than just platonic.  It had been the swiftness of it all that had surprised him the most.  They had gone from mere acquaintances to regular companions within the space of a year.  It had started out with one innocent salsa class; the next minute he was seeking her advice on what to do with his newly acquired house guest his grandson Oskar.  Carole had been such a huge hit with the little boy that Henrik found himself inviting her along on a multitude of adventures; toy shops, soft play centres and zoo trips to mention a few.  If she made Oskar happy, then it made him happy.  He had become so accustomed to having Carole around, that when he returned from his four month break in Sweden it felt only natural to pick up where they had left off, even without Oskar.  Only now  trips were to theatres, restaurants and National Trust properties.  He’d even succumbed to allowing her to cook for him once a week before their salsa class. It just felt so easy with Carole that it didn’t feel like he was making a conscious choice, it had just happened.  Of course, he knew the rumour mill at the hospital was rife, but he couldn't care less.  Perhaps it was old age but for the first time in his life he felt comfortable;  comfortable in his own skin and comfortable with his choices.   That was, until around two hours ago when the woman he had loved since the moment he first set eyes on her at the tender age of 19 years old -and whom had never stopped loving - had seemingly walked back into his world and, for the past two hours he had been unable to think about anything else. 

From the safety of his seat, his eye scanned the room for her, his blood pressure rising every time the door swung open in anticipation that it might be her. The group conversation going on around him was just a fog, his mind was elsewhere.

“Mr Hanssen, it's your round,” Dom shouted at him across the table, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.  

“Dominic!” Carole chastised; her son’s brazen cheek was causing a flush of pink to stain her cheeks.

Henrik, now jolted back into the present  looked up at him, “oh right.  Yes of course,” he said, stumbling to his feet. “What does everyone want?” 

*****

At the bar Henrik had given his order and was waiting patiently whilst the barman went about his business. He caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the decorative mirror on the other side of the bar, the wisps of grey hair took him by surprise,  not to mention the flabbiness developing around his jowls.  He was looking more and more like his father each day.  Old age was taking hold of him, quicker than he could fight it off. 

Perhaps now was the time to start thinking about settling down and sharing his life with someone.  Old age was a curse, but old age spent alone was even worse.   Yes, perhaps Carole would make a good companion for an old man looking for……

“Henrik...” 

Without looking, he knew it was her;  the soft lilt of her voice, the scent of her perfume filling his senses. He wasn’t quite ready to look at her just yet though; he lowered his eyes and pursed his lips, the least she could do was wait.  When he was ready he slowly turned his head in her direction.  

“Roxanna,” she was beautiful. She was always beautiful.  

“How are you?” she asked hesitantly.  

He had been leaning against the bar but he stood up straight and raised himself to his full height.  He would not let his feelings get the better of him; his response was clipped, "I’m very well thank you.”  It was too much to hold her gaze and he found himself studying the detail on the beer taps in front of him.  

“I…….”

“I wasn’t aware you were back?,” Why would he be? She hadn't spoken to him for two years, he would be the last person she would inform. 

“When I heard about Essie I wanted to come back to pay my respects…. And to support Sacha.  They have both been very good friends to me,”  

"Of course," Henrik acknowledged,  memories of Roxanna’s slow recovery from her brain injury clear in his mind. Indeed, Essie and Sacha had been very supportive during those dark days, to him as much as Roxanna. It had been Essie who had taken over from Henrik's bedside vigil, insisting he go home for rest and clean clothes. It had been Sacha's shoulder whom he'd leant on when Roxanna had taken a turn for the worst and required further surgery.  Yes, he could understand why she would want to come back.

Clearing his throat Henrik asked, "How long are you back for?,"

"Until Friday…..I have to get back for work." 

Work: as Director of Neurological Surgery at the Port of Spain General Hospital, Trinidad and Tobago.  Henrik had found out about her new role when a reference request had landed on his desk three weeks after she had walked out of his life. 

"Henrik, I was hoping we might talk before I left? I want to apologise for ….." 

"There's no need for any apologies," he said curtly, cutting her off again. 

"Well, I ….," She was interrupted again, this time by the barman completing Henrik's order and requesting payment. She looked on as Henrik fumbled in his wallet.  

"Can I get you a drink?" He asked as a last minute thought, his hands pausing over the card machine. 

"No.. thank you, I'm fine." 

With a nod of the head he turned his attention back to the barman. Picking up the tray he turned to Roxanna again and said nonchalantly,  "well, enjoy the rest of your trip." 

"I'll try," she replied, but she was speaking into the void.  He had already walked away from her and was heading back to his table.  

****

“Would you like to come in for supper?” Carole asked from the passenger seat of Henrik’s Volvo.  He had driven her home after the wake.  

“Er...not tonight thank you Carole. It’s been a long day.” 

“Of course,” she said, trying not to look too disappointed.  She had been unsure about asking him anyway;  he had seemed out of sorts all day which she had initially put down to grief but now she was wondering if she was the problem.  She knew she could come out with some silly things when she'd had a few glasses of wine but she had tried to be on her best behaviour today. 

She couldn't understand why Henrik wanted to spend so much time with her anyway? It was hardly her intellectual capacity that was enthralling him and she knew full well she was no oil painting.  Whatever it was, it was probably on the wane anyway. He'd never refused to come in for supper before. She'd bought those fancy tea bags he liked so much too; “Well goodnight then,” she said as she climbed out of the car. 

“Good night,” he replied, his hands clutched to the steering wheel and his eyes staring straight ahead. 

As she watched the car drive off into the distance, she knew exactly where those tea bags would end up. 

****

“Has she gone back down?” Roxanna smiled as Sacha returned to his sitting room and plonked himself on the sofa next to her.  Isla, the child whom Essie had cared for was now in Sacha’s full time care whilst Social Services completed their assessments.  

“Yes, she’s fast off now,” Sacha replied.  

Roxanna passed him a glass of wine.  “Bless her."

“Mmm,” Sacha sighed, “I think she’s missing Essie, the poor love.” 

Roxanna reached over and gave Sacha’s hand an affectionate squeeze, “you’re doing a great job Sacha,” she smiled, “Isla’s obviously very settled with you. She’s such a joy.” 

“Thanks Rox,” he said, relaxing back into the settee and taking a large gulp of his wine.  “You know, its so good of you to come all this way.  Essie would have been delighted to see you.” 

Roxanna sighed, “I’m just sorry I never made it back before she….well you know.  She was a really good friend to me, i wish I could’ve done more for her.”

“Rox, Essie understood.  Everyone’s got their own lives to lead and anyway, we all had such a good time when we came to visit you last year.   In fact, Essie said it was one of the happiest times in her life, so please don’t be too harsh on yourself.  You’re here now and that has been a great strength to me.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into him for a hug and she went with it and rested her head on his shoulders.   

“Well thanks for letting me stay with you.  So much more comfortable than a hotel.”

“It's my pleasure,” he said, letting go of her.  “So anyway, how are you? We haven't had chance for a proper catch up yet.” 

“I’m good thanks.  I mean work’s full on and caring for David’s mother takes up a lot of my time but hey, one can’t complain." She let out a small laugh but there was a melancholy that was hard to ignore.  

“Hmm...you must make time for yourself Rox,” he said concerned. 

“I do Sacha, don’t you worry about me,” 

He smiled at her but was yet to be convinced.  “Essie was worried about you before she died,” 

“What!” Roxanna frowned, turning to look at him, appalled at the thought of her friend wasting precious energy on worrying about her.  

“I think she was concerned that you might be lonely in Trinidad and that perhaps you somehow regretted making the move?” He could see she was uncomfortable and he held up his hand, gesturing for him to hear him out. “You know what Essie was like, she cared for you. I think she was concerned that you made the decision to leave Holby very quickly, and in doing so you left a lot of people behind who cared for you.”  

Roxanna let out a sigh of exasperation and curled her legs underneath her, grabbing a cushion to hug as if using it as a protective shield. 

“Don’t be mad, Rox,” Sacha said reaching out and resting his hand on her knee, “I'm sorry if I've upset you and if I’m wrong, then great,” he said, holding up his hands. 

She let out another sigh, “ I went to Trinidad for David’s parents, you know that! I could hardly leave them in the lurch could I? David had no siblings, there is no other family.  His father was dying and his mother needed help to care for him, I didn’t really have much choice in the matter Sacha,”

Sacha nodded his head in agreement, “I understand Rox. As long as you’re happy, that's all that matters. 

“Well, I am,” she insisted, taking a big gulp of her wine. 

“Okay then,” he replied as he watched her over the rim of his glass, “let's talk about something different. Did you manage to speak with Henrik today?" 

“Crikey Sacha! What is this? Twenty questions?” she scoffed, almost spluttering her wine out of her mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” he exclaimed, “You choose what we talk about,” 

“I did in fact.” She replied more calmly now.  

“What?” 

“I spoke to Henrik.  Only briefly though,” she said trying not to sound too glum about it. 

“Rox, I don’t want to pry but did something happen between you and Henrik before you left because, for a time, you two seemed to be inseparable?”

“Did we?”  It was a rhetorical question because she knew the answer. They had been inseparable.  That was until she made the choice to break them. 

“You did.”

“Oh Sacha,” she sighed, holding the cushion in front of her face now, hardly daring to look at him, part embarrassment, part distress. “It’s all so bloody complicated! I’ve acted terribly towards Henrik and now he can barely look at me.” 

“Oh Rox,” he said, trying to wrestle the cushion away from her face.  “I’m sure that’s not true.  Henrik has always thought the world of you.  Even more perhaps.” 

“Maybe once, but not anymore. I’ve really screwed up.” she said glumly.   

“I’m a good listener…..” he suggested. 

“You really want to know?” she said, grabbing the cushion from him and hugging it to her chest again. 

“If you want to tell me then yes.” 

“Okay. But pour me another glass of wine first,” she sighed.  

Chapter Text

Henrik and I had always been close. In fact, we were almost romantically involved at college, but we were both young and shy and neither of us had the confidence to make the first move.  

Then David came along; he was so bright and so vivacious, he just swept me off my feet and we were married within a year of meeting one another.  Henrik was of course, very gracious about David and I but I think neither of us ever forgot those early days and there was always a sense of ‘what if’ that lingered around our friendship.   

Then, after the accident; after everything that had gone on with Fredrik, with David and John, I think we both felt as if we were the only ones left, and the only way to survive was to cling to each for dear life. 

When I woke from the accident Henrik was by my side holding my hand; he was there for me day and night.  We had our friends too- you and Essie amongst them- but with Henrik it was different.  We had this shared past and seemed to have an understanding of each other like no one else could.

When I was discharged from hospital he insisted I stay with him, just until I was well enough to live on my own again. I stayed in his spare room and it felt a bit like when we were at college; we were roomies and it was fun. 

When I was well enough to go home we continued to see one another on a regular basis. I still had keys to his house and he'd cook dinner, we'd go out for walks, meet for coffee, you know the type of thing and it was….it was wonderful, we enjoyed each other’s company and it continued that way until the night before I left…

"It’s me," Roxanna shouted as she let herself into Henrik's house. " I'm so sorry I'm late…," she continued as she removed her coat and hung it up on the peg next to Henrik's and removed her shoes. 

"I'm in here," came Henrik's voice from the kitchen. 

Roxanna grabbed the carrier bag containing the two bottles of red she had just purchased, and after a quick check of her appearance in the hall mirror, she made her way through to the kitchen. 

Henrik was at the stove stirring a sauce and he glanced over his shoulder and gave her a soft, welcoming smile. 

"I'm so sorry I'm late," she repeated frustratedly, "the surgery went on much longer than I thought -there was a bleed -and then there was a bloody queue at the supermarket!" She took the bottles out of the bag and rested them on the table. 

"No matter. You're here now and dinner is almost ready." Henrik pulled a chair out for her at the kitchen table, "have a seat and I'll pour us some wine." He opened one of the bottles and poured the red liquid into two glasses already set out on the table. 

"Mmm," Roxanna said, breathing in the aroma of the wine before giving it a sip and swilling it around her mouth. "What are we eating?" She said, gulping down the wine and glancing over at the stove. 

"Pasta Arrabiata," 

"Oh great, my favourite. I'm starving," she said, taking a piece of bread and dipping into some olive oil and devouring the lot in one mouthful. 

"How many times have we had this conversation, Roxanna?” Henrik sighed, “You are not starving! It's simply your blood sugar levels dropping and sending…." He went on, but she shut him down.

"Oh do sush Henrik. You know what I mean! Anyway, how was your day?" She said smiling sweetly at him. 

After dinner we moved into the sitting room where Henrik challenged me to a game of chess.  He was keeping a tally you see; we’d been playing regularly ever since the accident.  Henrik said it was good for my recovery but really, it was him who enjoyed it the most.  The trouble was, Henrik didn't like losing and I was just about to make a killer move that would give me a three game lead….

“You can’t do that!” Henrik cried, almost lifting out of his seat as he watched Roxanna select her piece and move it towards his queen. 

Roxanna grinned at him in delight, “oh yes I can, Henrik,” she teased as she plucked his queen from the board and waved it in his face triumphantly.  

Henrik let out an exasperated breath and lent back in his seat.  

“Come on, it’s your go,” she urged  

“There’s no point now is there,” Henrik sighed, “You’ve won!”

“Oh don’t be such a bad loser,” she said leaning over and taking his hand, “It’s only a game you know,” she was trying to be sympathetic but her tone was full of mirth.  

“Hmm,” Henrik sulked as he looked down at her fingers which were now stroking the back of his hand.   

“It just means we get to play again…..and you can make that amazing pasta again,” she suggested playfully.  

“You are the only person who can beat me at chess, do you know that?”  he said glumly. 

Roxanna grinned at him; , “I know….” she said as she felt Henrik link his fingers with hers. 

It was at this point that he came out with it. 

“I love you Roxanna,” he whispered as he studied their linked hands, “do you know that too?” 

She took in a sharp intake of breath at his words and bit her lip, not daring to lift her eyes to look at him.  “I do Henrik. I do know,” she eventually uttered. 

I think we both recognised that a line had been crossed; and although it was a line that we had been teetering along for some time, it still came as a surprise to us both when said aloud.  

“I’m sorry...I don’t know why I said that,” Henrik said as he pulled his hands away from hers. “It wasn’t planned, I should never have said anything.” He stood and took himself over to the fireplace where he gripped the mantle, as if to steady himself.   

Roxanna took a gulp of her drink and studied him for a few minutes before getting up and making her way over to him. “Henrik?” she said as she rested her hand on his shoulder, “look at me?” 

As he turned to face her she took hold of both of his hands and looked up into his eyes before reaching up onto her tip toes and pressing a gentle kiss to his unexpecting lips. 

"Roxanna……" he gasped.  

She let out an embarrassed laugh, and he engulfed her in his arms, pulling her tight to his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of head. 

"What now….?" 

"Take me to bed Henrik," she said as she luxuriated in the warmth of his arms.   

"What?" Came the breathy reply.

"I said, take me to bed and make love to me," she looked up at him and said it slowly for emphasis. 

He pulled back from her a little but still holding her in his arms, "shouldn't we talk about this first?”

She gave him a sympathetic smile, "Henrik, we've been talking for 30 years....let’s not waste anymore time." She pulled him towards the door, "come…" 

"If you're sure…?" He hesitated. 

"I am Henrik. I'm sure." 

Well, I’m sure you can guess what happened next…..it was sublime. I felt as I'd not felt for a long time; it was as if that was the place I had meant to be all of my life.  As if every step of our relationship, every conversation, every platonic embrace had been building up to that night. We lost ourselves in one another, explored areas and feelings we had only ever dreamed of.  To say that we were a perfect match would be an understatement...and the reserved and retiring Henrik we think we all know….well, he was a revelation!

Okay, okay,  I know it all sounds very cheesy and you probably didn't need to hear all that detail, but it really was perfect. 

The next morning I woke to the sound of a coffee cup being placed on the best side cabinet next to me.  When I opened my eyes I instantly remembered where I was, everything just oozed Henrik; the crisp clean sheets, the dark mahogany antique sleigh bed,  the starchiness of the blue shirt he had given me to sleep in and the fragrance of cedarwood that permeates everything that is Henrik Hanssen. 

"Good morning,"

When I pulled myself up to a sitting position there he was; fully dressed and sat in a chair not far from the bed drinking coffee. I rubbed my eyes and ran my fingers through my untamed hair- honestly, I must have looked shocking - but he just smiled at me and love shone from his eyes.  

"What time is it?" Roxanna asked, her voice still heavy with sleep. 

"It’s almost nine," 

"Nine! I've slept in. I’m so sorry,  I should go," she said pulling the duvet back and revealing her long, bare legs. 

Henrik stepped forward and replaced the duvet. "Relax," he said as he handed her the coffee cup, "drink your coffee, there's no rush." 

She smiled at him gently and did as she was told, taking a sip of the steaming liquid in the cup.

"Mmm," she murmured, savouring the rich aromas. Henrik always did buy good coffee. 

"How long have you been awake?" She asked, watching him drink from his own cup and noting his freshly shaven face. 

"A while,” he replied. "I always wake early." 

“Ah, yes, I remember.”

“Did you sleep well?” 

“I did,” she exclaimed as a smile split her lips.  “It’s a very comfy bed,” she said, as she leant  back on the pillows and savoured the moment.    

So, you're wondering why, and how, such a perfect outcome could go so wrong? Well, it wasn't so much an event that happened, but a ghost that intervened and put a stop to it all. 

After breakfast I decided it was time to go home….Henrik had work to do and I had chores that needed taking care of...

"So…..?" 

"So….?" 

They stood in Henrik's hallway, their fingers linked with each other's. 

"I should go," Roxanna murmured. 

"Yes," Henrik uttered reluctantly. "Well, thank you...for last night," his cheeks blushed. 

Roxanna lowered her eyes and gave him a bashful smile, "thank you for cooking dinner," 

"My pleasure."

"Well...I should just…" she said gesturing to the door. 

"Roxanna…." He bent down and gave her a long lingering kiss which was reciprocated fully but after a moment she pulled away. 

"Goodbye Henrik," she said as she scrambled for the front door. 

"Goodbye Roxanna." 

The doubts were creeping in before I had even closed the car door.  As I drove out of the driveway the only thing I could focus on was the wedding ring on my left hand.  It was flashing up at me from the steering wheel looking brighter and shinier than it had on the day that David had given it to me.  David had been dead for nearly two years but I still couldn’t bring myself to remove the ring.  When I licked my lips I could taste Henrik’s lingering kiss upon them but my heart was pounding in my chest, not from the kiss but from guilt.  Guilt was welling up from the pit of my stomach to my throat.   I rolled the window down and gasped for air as I tried to concentrate on the roads in spite of the tears welling up in my eyes.    

When I arrived home -the home I had bought and shared with my husband -the first thing I saw was David’s face smiling back at me from the hallway table.  A photograph of course, but nevertheless, the sight of his noble face unleashed the tears down my cheeks and blurred my vision as I hung my coat up next to David’s coats, grief having prevented me from giving them away.  

Although I had showered at Henrik’s I could still smell him on my skin, in my hair, on my clothes and in an instant I was leaping up the stairs to the bedroom I had shared with David, stripping off my clothes and throwing them in the wash basket.  I must have spent almost an hour in the shower, literally washing all traces of Henrik from my body;  every patch of skin he had caressed, every curve he had kissed was washed free of him. 

By this time I felt both emotionally and physically exhausted.  I dragged myself from the shower and fumbled in David’s wardrobe for one of his old jumpers and pulled it over my head.  I climbed into the bed that David and I had bought together over twenty years ago, pulled the duvet over my head and cried for my dead husband. 

I had been married to David for twenty-eight years and three months when he died.  Not once in all those years had I betrayed our marriage vows. That’s not to say I hadn’t thought about it, of course I had.  But, there is a huge difference between thinking and actually doing and the thought that I had betrayed David was too much to bear.  

I was woken some time later by the telephone.  

"Hello?" 

"Roxanna, it's Henrik."  

"Oh," she sighed as she held the receiver away from her ear, not wanting to hear his voice. 

"I found your wrist watch in the en-suite. I'll bring it to you, I'm going out anyway…." 

She clutched the phone to her chest, and glanced at her wrist. The watch, a Christmas present from David; she remembered removing it and placing it on the side of the bath before getting into the shower. 

"No! Don't do that Henrik." She couldn't bear to look at him and she didn't want him in David's home. 

"It's not a problem," he went on, "I thought we might take a walk, we could get coffee?" 

"No! No I can't…..I'm busy, I'm meeting a friend."  She wasn't meeting anyone. 

"Oh, right," she could hear the disappointment in his voice. 

"I'll get the watch from you at work sometime. It's not urgent." She said curtly. 

"If you're sure?"

"Yes I am," she snapped.

"Okay, well bye then." 

"Bye." 

That was the last time I spoke to Henrik...until today. 

Later that day I received another call. Either by sheer coincidence or by some twisted turn of fate, it was David's elderly mother Doreen. She was calling from Trinidad to tell me that David's father James was dying and that she wanted me to visit. 

"He is dying. There is no one else.  You must come. Do this for my son, if not for yourself." 

My relationship with David's parents has always been ....complicated. They didn't approve of our match from the start. I just didn't live up to their expectations of what a wife should be; I wouldn't give up my work and become a housewife and I hadn't given David children or them grandchildren.  Doreen was a formidable woman but she was also proud; it would have taken a lot for her to call me.  I had to go. I had no choice. David was an only child, so was I and both my parents were dead; Doreen and James were the only family I had. I booked a flight to Trinidad for the very next day and called in sick to work. I didn't tell Henrik I was going. 

When I arrived in Trinidad it was apparent the situation was much worse than I had first anticipated.  James was in the last few weeks of his life but he was refusing palliative care.   Doreen was frail and partially sighted, she had been too proud to ask for any help and was struggling to care for herself, let alone James and the house…..well it had fallen into a state of disrepair. I realised then how much I had neglected them and how much they needed me.  I owed it to them and I owed it to David and there was no place Henrik. 

****

"Oh Rox," Sacha sighed. "Henrik would have understood if you had explained the situation." 

"Maybe….but I just couldn't face him and the longer I left it, the harder it became.  He tried to contact me over and over again by any means possible but I just ignored him.  I hate myself for what I've done." 

“Perhaps it's worth speaking to him?" 

"I tried Sacha, but he didn't want to know. I just have to face up to the fact that our friendship has been unequivocally damaged and that there is no coming back from it." 

"Rox…," Sacha said as he pulled her into an embrace.  

"Do you know what the one thing is, that I regret about that night?" 

"No, what is it…?" 

"It's that I never told Henrik that I loved him." 

"What about now? Do you still love him?" 

"Oh Sacha," she sobbed, "I do love him. I love Henrik with all my heart." 

Chapter Text

Two years earlier: 

“Police, can I help you?” 

“Er...yes.  I...I’d like to report a person missing.  It’s a colleague….Roxanna Macmillan, Miss Roxanna Macmillan.  She’s been missing for seven days, I've already spoken to one of your officers about it. She called in sick to work seven days ago but no one has been able to contact her since.  She’s not at home and I don’t know what else to do…..” 

“Okay, sir.  Let me take some details from you………..” 

Twenty-four hours later: 

“Is that Mr Hanssen?” 

“Yes, it is.”

“This is PC Green from Holby Police Station.  Just to inform you that we’ve located Miss Macmillan.  She’s asked us to advise you sir that she’s fit and well but she doesn’t want to be contacted.  She said she will contact you in her own time. Now, if there’s nothing else sir?” 

“No, thank you. That’s all.” 

Present Day: 

“So, I've done x-rays, I’ve done an MRI scan and I'm still not a hundred percent sure about this diagnosis.  He’s projectile vomited three times in the past hour as well,” Dominic Copeland said as he screwed up his face and shuddered at the memory of having to change out of his vomit covered scrubs only minutes before . He was leaning against the nurses station on Keller Ward, Henrik was sitting behind the desk staring at the computer.  “Will you examine him for me Mr Hanssen, just have a look and see what you think?” 

There came no response.  Henrik’s eyes were glued to the screen in front of him, but his thoughts were elsewhere.  

“Mr Hanssen?”  Dom shouted frustratedly over the counter into Henrik’s face.  

“What?” demanded Henrik, a scowl forming across his face, outraged by the younger man’s monstrous behaviour.    

“I want you to take a look at my patient!” Dom replied, frustrated at the lack of attention Henrik was paying him.  

“What, now?”  

“If you have a moment then yes. Please!”

Henrik checked his watch, “I er...I was just about to take my break.  Can it wait?” 

Dom shrugged his shoulders in despair, “Well, if it has to, then I suppose it can wait a bit longer!”

“Fine, I’ll examine her when I come back” Henrik said as he stood up and started collecting his belongings together. 

“It’s a male,” 

“What is?” said Henrik looking confused.  

“The patient Mr Hanssen,” said Dom, throwing his arms up in the air.  

“Right. Now, what time does your mother take her break Mr Copeland, do you know?” 

“What?” Dom replied in disbelief at the question, “You mean my birth mother Ange or the woman who has pretended to be my mother for the last thirty years?” 

“Don’t be facetious Mr Copeland,” Henrik said in annoyance at Dom’s lack of his respect for the woman who raised him, “you know who I mean, Carole….Mrs Copeland?” 

Dom rolled his eyes, “I haven’t got the faintest idea what time her break is,” he said, curling his lip at the thought of Mr Hanssen and Carole canoodling over a coffee. 

“Never mind,” said Henrik as he waltzed down the ward and out of the door.  

****

“It was a latte wasn’t it?” asked Henrik as he placed two coffee cups down on the table where Carole was sitting in a corner of Pulses. 

“Yes, thank you,” she said smiling at him and wrapping her fingers around the cardboard cup. “What a lovely surprise,” she said. “I didn’t think I’d get a break today, it’s been so busy.  I think it’s only because you were there that Sandra let me go.”  Carole worked as a receptionist on the main reception desk in the hospital.  

“You should insist on taking your breaks,” Henrik said as he sipped his own black coffee, “you are entitled to them after all.” 

“I suppose, but you know what it’s like when it's busy.  I don’t like to let anyone down.  So, was there something you wanted to talk about?”  It was very unusual for Henrik to seek her out in the middle of a working day, he was usually far too busy for socialising.  

Henrik pursed his lips together, appearing apprehensive. “I...err…,” he stuttered, “I wanted to ask you to dinner, at my house, tonight….that’s if you’re free of course?” He added, he didn’t want to sound too desperate. 

“Oh, right,” she smiled coyly at him, somewhat taken aback at his suggestion.  She’d never been inside his home before,  they’d always met in public, although he had been to her home many times.  It didn’t bother her, she had learnt that Henrik was a very private person and that his home was a bastion of that.  So, to get an invitation was very unexpected. “Well, I’ve got nothing on tonight, so I’d love to, thank you,” she gushed.  

“Good, I’m pleased,” Henrik replied, a little side smile escaping from his mouth.  

She reached across the table and rested her hand on the top of his, "you seem to have perked up after yesterday. I'm glad, I was worried about you." 

"Pardon?" He asked, a confused look on his face. 

"At the funeral yesterday, you seemed a bit out of sorts but I know you and Essie were close so it was bound to be a difficult day for you." 

"Right," he nodded. It perturbed him that he had appeared anything other than his usual staid persona.   But before he could give it any further thought his attention was caught by the sight of two women striding along the corridor towards the exit and he swiftly pulled his hand out from beneath Carole's. 

"Sorry,” he said, as he raised himself  to his feet, "I've just seen someone whom I really need to speak to...I need to go," 

"Of course…" Carole replied, somewhat confused.  He started to walk away from the table but she called after him, "Henrik, what time should I come tonight?" 

"Oh right," he said, turning to her looking rather agitated "shall we say seven?" 

"Yes, all right. I'll see you then," 

"Sorry I must go," he called as he disappeared up the corridor and towards the lifts. 

****

He managed to reach the lift just before the doors were fully closing and as he stepped into the small gap the doors released to their full width, revealing the occupant he was so keen to speak to; Neurosurgeon Max McGerry. 

"Ah Ms McGerry. I'm glad I caught up with you," Henrik said nonchalantly hoping to purvey an air of casualness about their meeting.

"Oh?" She asked, raising a stern eyebrow. She wasn't a fan of Henrik's and she couldn't understand for the life of her why her colleagues seemed to revere him so much. 

"About those reports I've been waiting for…." 

"You mean those reports I emailed to you yesterday?" 

"Oh did you? I must have missed that one.” he replied innocently, “Well thank you, I'll take a look when I get back to my desk." 

There was an awkward silence now as they both listened to the whirring of the lift mechanics. Henrik watched the floors pass by and he knew his time was running out to question her. 

"Was that Miss Macmillan I just saw you with downstairs?" He asked casually. 

"Yes it was," came the blunt reply. 

"Oh. A professional visit was it?" 

She turned her head to glare at him, looking him up and down and trying to work out his motives, for he never usually paid her this much attention.  “Why? What’s your involvement with Miss Macmillan?” 

“Nothing….I just….err,” 

She was enjoying watching him squirm.  She knew from the hospital grapevine that they had ‘history.’   "If you must know, we were discussing her research. She wanted my opinion on whether Holby would consider having trial patients." 

Henrik's brow furrowed in thought. So Roxanna had resumed her research and she wanted to conduct it here in Holby. That would involve her being in the city. Working in the hospital again. "That's a Board decision,” he snapped,  “she would need to present the proposal to the Board and myself as CEO, not to you.  Surely Rox...Miss Macmillan knows that?" He was overreacting but the thought of Roxanna being in Holby for longer than a few days had thrown him into a state of anxiety. 

Max rolled her eyes; she had half expected this kind of response; since usurping her from the role of CEO she felt as if Henrik had gone out of his way to exert his authority over her and this was a prime example of it. "Of course she does. She just wanted my opinion." 

"Oh, and what is your opinion then? Is she ready to conduct trials?"  There was a tone of superiority in his voice.  Max was bearing the brunt of his anxieties; he knew it was unfair but  couldn’t help it.

"She's very close. It's an impressive piece of work I have to concede." Coming from Max, this was a compliment. 

The doors opened and Max stepped out of the lift, and was disturbed to see that Henrik proceeded to follow her even though his office was not on this floor. "Yes?" she questioned his pursuing.

"I didn't know that you knew Miss Macmillan?" 

"I don't. We met for the first time today. Guy introduced us." 

Of course, Henrik mused. Henrik had been the one who had called Guy Self out of desperation after John Gaskell had left Roxanna for dead.  Henrik was no fan of Guy but, he had saved  Roxanna's life and for that, he would always be grateful. 

"Is there anything else Mr Hanssen?" Max said as she stopped abruptly outside her office door, keen to end to bring an end to their conversation. 

"No, that's all " he said as Max disappeared into the office and closed the door in Henrik's face. 

He found the nearest available men's toilet and dived into a cubicle, leaning up against  the door for support.  His chest was tight and he loosened his tie fearing he was heading for a cardiac arrest.  The thought of Roxanna working in the same hospital, living in the same city as him whilst he would have to watch her from afar sent him into turmoil. He knew it was ridiculous for a grown man to be acting in this way but he couldn't help it. After putting his heart and soul into loving Roxanna Macmillan, he had been broken when she had left with no explanation. There was no way he could live through it all again, no way. Now was absolutely the right time to move on. Onwards and upwards, there was no other way. 

*****

“Hi! How did you get on?” It was Sacha, he was sitting at the dining room table spooning a jar of baby food into Isla who was sitting attentively in the highchair, her little face stained orange from the mashed up food that Sacha had failed to direct into her mouth.  

“It was okay,” Roxanna sighed as she slumped down onto the sofa.  

“Just okay?” said Sacha, raising an eyebrow.  

“Max is a character isn’t she,” 

“I did warn you,” Sacha smirked, “she’s a tough nut to crack but I think her heart is in the right place, you’ve just got to find it first.”

“Mmm. To be fair, she was very positive about it all.  She said she would be interested in getting involved in the trial, but of course it has to go through the board….and Henrik.”

“Mmm.” Sacha agreed. “Talking of Henrik…”

“Oh don’t!” Roxanna protested," holding up her hand to him. 

“Just hear me out,” he persisted.  “I was thinking I could invite Henrik for supper tonight, just something informal and it would give you two the chance to talk….I’d strategically nip out to check on Isla to give you some privacy, of course.” 

Roxanna shook her head, “Absolutely not,” she said, “but thank you for thinking about it Sacha,” she gave him a grateful but sad smile. 

“Why not?” He urged, “it would just be three friends sharing a meal, no pressure." 

“There's no point, it appears that Henrik has moved on.”

“What? I don’t think Henrik…” 

“I’ve just seen him Sacha! He has well and truly moved on.  He was holding hands with Carole Copeland in Pulses .”

“What!” Sacha guffawed. “Dominic’s mother?”

“Yes.” 

“I knew they were friends but I’m not sure there’s anything more to it than that? She did help him out a lot when Oskar was staying with him, babysitting and the rest.   Are you sure you’re interpreting this right, it could just have been something very innocent...” 

“Trust me,  I saw them with my very own eyes.”

“But….." 

She held up her hand, “Look Sacha, I just have to accept that I had my chance with Henrik and I ruined it.  Can we please just change the subject,” she sighed one again. She got up and bent down next to the highchair so she was eye level with the child, “Now, why don’t you tell me all I need to know about looking after this little one this afternoon?" She took hold of one of Isla’s sticky hands and gave it a gentle shake , and smiled broadly at the child, “ now, that’s a lot more fun than talking about boring old Henrik Hanssen isn’t it Isla?”  The child let out a delighted giggle.  

****

"Come," came Henrik’s dulcet tones in response to a knock at his office door.  “Ah Sacha! Why are you at work? I said you could have as much time off as you need?” 

“You did Henrik,” Sacha said as he made his way across the expanse of the office and stopped just in front of the desk. “ I had a follow up appointment with a patient that I didn’t want to miss so I came in for that.” 

“Have a seat,” Henrik gestured to a chair in front of his desk and Sacha took up the offer. “Sacha, you must allow yourself time to grieve before rushing back to work. Don’t make the same mistake as I did.”

“I know Henrik, I will take as much time as I need, thank you.” 

“The service yesterday was a very fitting tribute to Essie. It was beautiful Sacha.” 

“Thank you Henrik, that means a lot,” both men smiled understandingly at one another before Sacha said, “ I actually popped by to see if you’d like to come for supper tonight? Roxanna is staying with me and I thought it would be a nice opportunity to catch up?”

Henrik froze in his seat but managed to compose himself enough to reply, “I already have dinner plans for tonight, sadly.”   

“Oh.  Anyone special?” Sacha asked.  

“Mrs Copeland, actually,” Henrik replied, shuffling some papers on his desk and deliberately avoiding eye contact. 

“Okay, well how about Thursday night? Roxanna doesn’t fly until Friday.”

“No sorry, I can’t. I have my salsa class with Mrs Copeland and I can’t let her down, I’m her partner,” the double meaning of the word hung in the air and Henrik quickly added, “I’m her dance partner.” 

“Ah, yes, salsa, I remember.  Going well is it? The lessons I mean,” 

“Yes, thank you.” 

So, perhaps Roxanna was right about Carole after all, Sacha mused to himself.  

Henrik had picked up his pen and was starting to thumb through his paperwork and  Sacha took it as his queue to leave. “Well, I should get home, I’ve left Roxanna holding the baby, literally,” he said laughing at his own joke.  Henrik gave him a tight lipped smile back.  

Just as Sacha opened the door to leave Henrik asked,  “How is Roxanna?” 

Sacha turned to look at his friend, “she’s okay Henrik, but I think she could be better….  I know she misses your friendship.”

Henrik cleared his throat; “Yes, well….” he  uttered quietly and turned his attention back to his papers, “Sorry Sacha but I really must get on.”

“I understand Henrik. Goodbye then.” 

“Goodbye Sacha.”  

When the door had closed Henrik threw his pen down on the desk and let out a sigh of despair.  Enough was enough, he told himself and he picked up his mobile and scrolled through it.  When he found what he was looking for he pressed the call button and waited for the caller to answer.   

“Hello Holby Florists, can I help?” 

“Yes, I like to send some flowers.  A large bouquet please.” 

Chapter Text

Carole Copeland checked her appearance in the compact mirror one last time as the taxi pulled up outside Henrik’s home.  Climbing out of the vehicle she looked up, with some foreboding, at the three storey Georgian house in front of her, so different to her own little terrace house at the other end of town.  There was no doubt, she and Henrik were from different worlds; his a world of money, education and privilege, hers of back streets and bargain basement shops.  How on earth had she found herself here she mused to herself as she straightened out her dress and rang the doorbell.  She was nervous, jittery even; was this a date? The uncertainty and spontaneity of the invitation, let alone the flowers, had both excited and unnerved her.  It had been a long time since she had been on date, she just hoped she didn’t make a fool of herself. 

Almost instantly the door was opened to reveal the occupant of the house and Carole noted that he was looking as smart and as dashing as ever.   "Good evening," he said from his position on the threshold, a small smile twitching at the edge of his mouth. "Come in…" he beckoned, as he stood to one side to let her enter. When the door was closed he asked, "can I take your coat?" 

"Yes," Carole replied, blushing slightly as she felt Henrik's fingers brush against her shoulders as he helped her out of the garment. "Thank you so much for the flowers, they are absolutely beautiful." 

"You're very welcome. Just a little something to show my appreciation for the kindness you've shown Oskar and I this past year." 

"Oh you don't need to thank me, but thank you anyway," she giggled. "He's such a lovely boy."

"He is indeed," Henrik replied proudly as he led the way through to the kitchen.  As she followed him she looked up in awe at the sweeping Georgian staircase, its curved banister soaring majestically to the top of the house,   "You've got a lovely home Henrik, it's very grand."

"It's rather too big for one person but I like the high ceilings and it's convenient for the hospital. Now can I get you a drink?" He asked as he opened the refrigerator and produced a perfectly chilled bottle of wine, "It's chicken for dinner so I thought white, I hope that's alright?" It’s an oaked chardonnay so it should go well with the dish." 

"Ooh...sounds lovely, thank you," she grinned, getting the feeling that it was going to be a really lovely evening. 

*****

"That was delicious!" They were finishing off their meal and Carole was scraping every last bit of chocolate mousse from the ramekin," You are a good cook Henrik, where did you learn?" 

"Oh, I just picked up a few tips here and there," he replied modestly. "It's nice to have someone to cook for actually, I usually just rustle up something quick and easy.  Would you like to go through to the sitting room? I'll be through in a moment," he said, standing up and starting to clear the dishes from the table. 

"I'll help," she insisted, standing and collecting the remaining dishes, " I quite enjoy washing up." 

"It's perfectly all right, they will go in the dishwasher," he said, taking the dishes from her and placing them on the counter.  "Go and sit down," he insisted as he topped up her wine glass, "take your drink through. I'll open another bottle." 

When he joined her in the sitting room a few moments later she was studying a carved chess piece which she had plucked from an impressive looking set displayed on a side table. "These are cute," she said glancing over at Henrik who had seated himself on the sofa. 

"Mmm," he agreed. The set had been an unexpected Christmas present from Roxanna just a few months before she had left Holby. The gift tag had read 'a gift we can enjoy together’.  He had taken it as an unspoken sign that their friendship was moving into new territory and it had given him hope and joy.   Just as promised, the game had been something they had enjoyed together, right up until the night before she had left.    He knew he should have gotten rid of the set, along with the rest of Roxanna’s belongings he had found around the house, items that had crept in over time; a spare change of clothes hanging in the closet in the spare room, a toothbrush and a pot of face cream in the bathroom cupboard. Even the soya milk he had bought specifically for her, every last drop of it had gone down the sink in an act of defiance. The chess set should have gone too but he had found himself unable to part with it because doing so would be an absolute acknowledgement that he would never enjoy anything with Roxanna ever again and therefore it had remained in his sitting room as a constant reminder of what could have been.  "Do you play?"

"Me? Oh no," she recoiled, placing the queen back in her space as if it had suddenly become as hot as coals. "It's quite complicated isn't it?" 

"Not really. I could teach you if you like?" 

"No...Dominic tried to teach me when he was a teenager but I kept forgetting which piece was which and where they could be moved to. You'd only be wasting your time." 

"I don't know about that. It could be quite fun." 

She gave an apologetic shake of her head, "sorry Henrik but it's not my idea of fun." 

"Fair enough," he conceded as she joined him on the sofa.

"So...what is your idea of fun?" he asked as he turned his body towards her, relieved that she had turned down his offer of game. "I know you like dancing but what else interests you?" 

"Ooh...I don't know," she mused, deep in thought as she sipped at her wine. "I'm not like you...I don't read books or listen to music or anything like that." 

He let out a chuckle, amused at her words, and she laughed with him, knowing that she sounded like a philistine.  

"Well you must enjoy something? What do you do on an evening to entertain yourself?" 

"Well I usually just watch telly…." 

"Okay...anything in particular? Drama, documentary…?"

"Nothing you would like. I usually just watch the soaps," she admitted shyly, expecting him to scoff. 

"Right, well I’ve heard there are some very good ones," he replied gently, sensing her self-consciousness. 

"oh, wait a minute," she said, getting more animated now, "I do enjoy a game of bingo every now and then. You'll have to come one night, you'd enjoy it!" 

"You think?" He said quizzically, doubting very much that he would.  

"Yes!" She insisted, noting his doubtful expression "there's plenty of men that go. You wouldn't just be sitting with a load of old women. No, some of the men are very serious about it." 

"Well...I'll bear it mind," he smirked to himself,  slightly amused by the idea of himself in a bingo hall, his giant dibber pen posed at the ready. 

"What about you? What do you do on an evening?" 

"You mean apart from working, reading and listening to music?" He joked. "Well… not much.  Apart from our Thursday evenings my life is pretty dull.  Of course, when Oskar was here things were different, but in general it's usually a quick supper and bed." 

"Do you get lonely?" She knew it was a delicate question to ask but she felt their friendship was developing sufficiently enough to ask such things of each other, and, as he seemed so keen on getting to know each other, she went for it. 

He seemed to freeze at the question, dipping his chin and pursing his lips to consider his response but noting his uneasiness she went on. "I understand what it feels like to be lonely, and there's no shame in admitting it…"

She paused to let him speak but he remained tight lipped so she went on.  

"When I first left Barry I was incredibly lonely and lost. Don't get me wrong...it was the right thing to do;  Barry was such a brute I couldn't bear to be around him a moment longer…. well you  know what he was like, you've seen him….but I never thought for one minute I'd feel lonely without him. I suppose you just get used to someone being there and when they've gone... well there's just an emptiness you never even noticed before." 

He knew that feeling all too well. He could lie to himself and say he was used to people leaving him but the truth was you never got used to it. 

He gave her an empathetic smile. “You deserve much better than Barry.”

“Thank you Henrik, that's kind of you to say,” she blushed.

"I have a day off on Friday, I don't suppose you're free?"

"Friday?...No, I don't have any plans. Why?" 

"I wondered if you'd like to join me for a walk. There's a nature reserve I've been meaning to visit for a while. We could take a picnic?""

"Ooh that sounds lovely. Yes I'd love too." 

****

"Well, thank you for a lovely evening." They were in the hallway and Henrik was helping her into her coat. 

"You're very welcome. Thank you for coming." 

"So I'll see you tomorrow for salsa?" 

"Yes. I'll pick you up at the usual time." 

"I'll be ready," she replied, knowing how fastidious he was about time keeping. “Well goodbye then,” she said, giving him one last grin.

“Goodbye Carole,” he smiled back affectionately as he watched her disappear out of the door and into the waiting taxi, content that he had delivered a successful evening. 

When the taxi had disappeared out of sight he closed the door and returned to the kitchen to add the last few items to the dishwasher.  Remembering their wine glasses he returned to the sitting room to retrieve them but his eyes fell on the chess set in the corner of the room.  He wandered over and picked up the white queen and held it in his hand, his thumb rubbing over the grooves of the carving.  The queen, the most powerful and strongest piece on the board, able to move in any direction she chooses to.  He had been ridiculously sentimental to keep the set and he internally chastised himself for doing so. Dropping the piece down, he spun on his heels and strode out of the room, returning moments later with a carrier bag. In one fell swoop he cleared the board of its inhabitants, each piece falling from the board into the bag like lemmings jumping from a cliff.  Next, he picked up the wooden board and squeezed it into the bag, striding out into the hallway and dumping it by the front door. 

The following morning on his way to work he left the bag in the doorway of a charity shop and by lunchtime it had taken pride of place in the shop window, waiting expectantly for someone else to come along and enjoy it. 

Chapter Text

Two years earlier: 

It was a bitterly cold day, but the numbness Henrik was feeling had nothing to do with the weather.  He pulled up his collar to protect himself from the westerly wind that was engulfing Holby, the fallen leaves whirling like a vortex in every corner of the hospital memorial garden. It wasn’t long before he spotted Essie jogging towards him, her grey hoodie flapping in the wind and he knew that she had news of Roxanna. 

“Henrik, I’ve been calling you!” she said, a little out of breath as she stopped in front of him. 

“I must have been driving, sorry,” he replied, his voice a little shaky,  his gaze fixed on the ground in front of him.   It was partially true.  He had been driving back to the hospital from Roxanna’s home where he had been, for the umpteenth time in the last week to check if she was home but she hadn't been. He had let himself in with the spare key Roxanna had given him but each visit becoming less and less frantic as it became apparent she wasn’t going to be there.  If he was honest with himself he would say it was becoming an unnecessary ritual, just something to do when all else was failing. He had been driving back to the hospital when the police had called and he had pulled over to the side of the road to answer the call but later, when Essie had called, he had watched the phone vibrate on the front seat, still reeling from the police information.

“I’ve heard from Roxanna,” Essie said solemnly as she pulled the hoodie around herself for warmth and sat down on the bench next to him.  He could sense from her tone that whatever she was going to say, it wasn’t going to make him feel any better. “Henrik,” she started slowly, “she’s in Trinidad.”  

Henrik pursed his lips together and nodded in acknowledgement, “ I know, I’ve spoken to the police.” 

“Apparently David’s father is dying. Roxanna said David’s mother was desperate for help, she said she didn’t have any choice but to go.”

“Mmm,” Henrik murmured, unable to add anything further.  “I should go.,” he said, standing.   He couldn’t bear to hear anymore.    

“Henrik,” 

“Yes?” He said, turning reluctantly. 

“Roxanna told me to tell you not to call her. She said it would be easier that way?” 

He bowed his head, as if the weight of his loss was physically upon him.  The police had given him the same message: ‘don't call her again.’  It had made him feel culpable, but for what, he was unsure.  Had he been such a horrible brute towards her that it had caused her to run away to the other side of the world? In his mind he had been replaying their final night together, forensically analysing what he had done wrong .

“Henrik, if you want to talk about it……?” Essie offered.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back work,” He replied curtly as he turned his back and headed towards the hospital.  

****

Present Day: 

"Thanks for coming with me, I'm not sure I could have managed on my own," Sacha sighed as he clung onto the cardboard box of Essie's belongings he had just cleared out from her locker.  They were sitting in the memorial garden in the hospital grounds.

"Your welcome," Roxanna smiled gently and squeezed his hand. "Are you okay?" 

Letting out a deep breath he said, "I'm okay but I don't know how I'm going to sort Essie's belongings at home, the locker was hard enough," he absentmindedly picked out a plush teddy dressed in green scrubs from the box and studied it closely. 

"There's no rush, do it all in your own time.  I've still got some of David's things. I find it comforting to have them around." 

Sacha nodded in agreement, "you know, there are moments when I forgot she's gone and then it just hits me like a ton of bricks. Like this morning in the kitchen, I turned to say something to her then I realised…." 

"I know Sacha. It's going to take time, you have to let yourself grieve." 

"That's just what Henrik said to me too."

"Well," she gulped, a familiar fluttering in her stomach at the sound of his name, "he's right."

"You know, if there's one thing I regret about Essie and I, it's all the silly dancing around each other we did. I think if we'd have just been honest with each other from the start, we could've had so much more time with each other." 

"Oh Sacha," she sighed emphatically. "You can’t have regrets. The time you and Essie had was special. She knew how much you loved her." 

"I know, but still. Life's short Roxanna, we both know that much better than most people. If only I'd told Essie how I felt sooner rather than letting my silly sense of pride and chivalry get in the way." 

"Sacha…." she sighed.  

"Talking of no regrets, there's a lesson to be learnt from this..." 

"Oh?"

"Yes. That you've got to grasp life with both hands. You and Henrik, you are both acting like silly teenagers!"

"What….?" 

"You love him and he loves you. Don't you think it's time you both just got on with it!" 

"Oh Sacha,” Roxanna sighed despondently, I've told you,  it's a bit more complicated than that...." 

"Believe me Roxanna, it's really not that complicated at all. Don't waste anymore time Rox because one day it might be too late." He looked at her, grief and pain etched all over his face,  clutching the precious belongings of his dead love. Roxanna knew how that felt and it was very hard to argue with. "Tell Henrik how you feel," he pleaded. "You don't have anything to lose." 

She looked at him, her mouth agape trying to think of a counter argument but she struggled to find one. He was right, what did she have to lose? She'd already lost Henrik's friendship anyway. 

"Okay…" she said tentatively, rising from her seat.  "Your right, I should….," her mind going twenty to the dozen thinking about what she was going to say.

Sacha glanced at his watch, it was five thirty, "Henrik will still be in his office, there's no time like the present?" 

"You're right," she gulped. "I'll do it," a smile broke across her face. "Thank you Sacha," she said, taking his cheeks in her hands and kissing his forehead.

"I'll meet you at home later, shall I?" 

"Yes," she replied, "wish me luck!" 

"You won't need it Rox," he grinned as he watched her stride away, a woman on a mission. 

****

"I'm sorry Roxanna, Mr Hanssen has left for the day." It was Siobhan, Henrik’s secretary.  

"Oh," Roxanna sighed, all of her fiery intent disappearing in a puff of smoke.  

"He always leaves early on a Thursday.”  

"I see…," she replied with disappointment. 

"Thursday evening is Mr Hanssen’s salsa class." 

"Salsa!" Roxanna exclaimed. 

"Yes, he's been going for a while now. He's very dedicated, he never misses it. I've even caught him practicing in his office on occasions!" 

"Oh right.. I didn't realise he was into salsa," it was a surprise to Roxanna.  

"Well it's a shame you've missed him because I know he would have been delighted to see you. He'll be so disappointed he missed you." 

"You think so?" 

"Oh yes. He was devastated when you left. I know he doesn't like to show his emotions but you'd be surprised what I see and hear sitting here every day. That door…" she said pointing to the object in question  "is actually very thin. He spent hours contacting people to try and locate you. Oh Roxanna he was so worried about you and then, for months after...well, I was worried he was going to have another break down, he was so tense, so angry with everyone, and everything.   You know he contacted the police don't you…" 

Roxanna imagined a fraught looking Henrik sitting at his desk calling all and sundry in a desperate attempt to find her. She could have prevented all that pain if only she had spoken to him. “yes, I did know,” she stuttered, dipping her head in shame..  

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you….” she said, gently placing her hand on Roxanna’s shoulder.  

"Oh I can do that all by myself," Roxanna joked despondently, giving the other woman a melancholic smile.   "How is Henrik?"

"Well...he's doing okay.  Little Oskar's visit perked him up off course. Yes…" she pondered, "it brought out a new side to Mr Hanssen I'd never seen before….a fun, care free side. It was really lovely to witness actually," she said fondly. 

Roxanna smiled wistfully, she would have liked to have seen Henrik and Oskar together.  "Siobhan...can I ask you something?" 

"Yes of course…" 

"Henrik and Carole Copeland...are they...an item?"

"So you've heard the rumours?” Siobhan chuckled.

"What rumours?" Roxanna exclaimed. 

"Oh they're at it like rabbits apparently!" Siobhan joked, but seeing Roxanna's face drop she quickly back tracked, "I'm joking Roxanna. Honestly, you don't have anything to worry about. I think Carole did a bit of babysitting for him and helped out with Oskar but apart from that....Mr Hanssen has only ever had eyes for you," she said going behind her desk and running her finger down the page of the open diary . "Mr Hanssen has the day off tomorrow. He usually works from home on his days off, why don't you call in on him?" 

"I can’t….my flight is tomorrow," 

"Well, if you could squeeze in a visit I'm sure he'd be pleased to see you." 

"Yes.. .perhaps I could," Roxanna pondered, "thanks for that Siobhan ."

****

On the way back to Sacha’s flat Roxanna found she had a renewed bounce in step. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts she failed to notice the chess set in the window of the charity shop waiting in anticipation for somebody to love it again. Little did it know, chess sets were not very popular anymore. 

Chapter Text

Henrik smiled to himself as he watched a pair of blue tits dance around the feeders in his garden, flitting from feeder to hedge, carefully prising the hull from the sunflower seed and gobbling up the contents.  Henrik and Oskar had made the jam jar feeder last year and it was proving a hit with the local feathered residents.  You could waste a considerable amount of time bird watching and Henrik had found it a therapeutic distraction these last two years. Setting the binoculars down he returned to the kitchen counter where he was preparing a picnic of sandwiches and homemade cake. Slicing the sandwiches into triangles he wrapped them neatly in greaseproof paper and placed them in the basket. Reaching into the cabinet above he took out the Thermos flask and two mugs.  He was just about to boil the kettle for the coffee when he heard the doorbell. He checked his watch, Carole must be early; he was sure he had said nine o'clock, the nature reserve didn’t open until ten anyway.  It was his first day off work in weeks and he was looking forward to getting away from it all.  It would be nice to have some company and, if Carole enjoyed his new found hobby, then all the better. 

He dashed down the hall and opened the front door expecting to see Carole, "You’re early ..." he started but let out a small gasp when he saw Roxanna and, over her shoulder, a black taxi cab parked on the road. 

He returned his gaze to her, "Oh, I was expecting someone else…." he faltered, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry.   As always, she looked impeccable; the early morning sun caught the blonde highlights in her hair creating an almost halo-like aura around her.  Her small features were perfectly enhanced by considered touches of make-up and the powder blue woollen overcoat she was wearing picked up the blue of her eyes making them more jewel-like than ever. 

"I'm sorry…" she stuttered, suddenly feeling like she had made a mistake in coming. "Do you have a moment? There's something I need to say." 

There was a pause, as if he was thinking about how to respond but eventually he said, "come in," and he disappeared into the house leaving her on the doorstep. Taking a deep breath she stepped inside and followed him through to the kitchen. 

"I don't have long,” he said curtly, “I have to be somewhere."

"It won't take long," she replied, as she loitered in the kitchen doorway feeling as though any further encroachment of his personal space would be unwelcome.  She eyed the items laid out on the island; the neat package of sandwiches wrapped in brown greaseproof paper, the binoculars, the ornithology book, the thermos and two mugs.  As he waited for her to speak he busied himself with tidying away the picnic bits and she knew it was an avoidance tactic so he didn’t have to make eye contact with her. 

"I'm on my way to the airport but I wanted to see you before I left," she paused to give him the opportunity to speak but he only turned his back to her and started to rinse the dishes in the sink. "I know you said an apology wasn't necessary, but for me it is. I need to offer you an explanation."

"Roxanna….," he sighed frustratedly, pausing the dish washing and staring straight ahead through the kitchen window.

"Please Henrik, just let me say what I've come to say and then I'll go?" He didn’t reply so she went on, “I shouldn't have left Holby without telling you, I should have discussed it with you and I should have returned your calls. I acted cowardly and I've shown you absolutely no respect. For everything, I am truly sorry."  He remained silent. "I know my actions would have left the hospital in a very difficult position. " 

"They did!" He snapped, his raised voice startling her.  He threw the sponge into the sink and turned to face her.  "Surgery had to be cancelled, appointments rearranged! It was incredibly difficult to replace you! I had to go grovelling to Guy Self for help and you can imagine how much delight he took in that!  Then, the constant bombardment of questions from staff about your disappearance, not knowing what to say to people.  So, yes, your actions did leave the hospital in a very difficult position!” He let out a sigh of despair, “ You know I reported you missing to the police?" 

She had not been ready for this onslaught, but she knew she deserved it and she dipped her head in shame. "I know…." she admitted, "and again, I'm sorry. You have to understand what I was going through at the time, I was still grieving for David and I was in turmoil about my feelings for you! It didn’t seem right that I should feel so happy with you and still so heartbroken over David.  I just didn’t know which way to turn." He turned his back towards her again.  

"Henrik, please believe me when I say…," desperation causing her to stumble over her words, "the night we spent together….I have dreamt about being with you since the age of eighteen…. and... it was everything... no more...than I ever thought it would be... it felt so right.” 

He scoffed at her, “so right that it meant you had to fly to the other side of the world to escape me?” 

“No, Henrik.  It wasn’t like that!” She protested taking a step further into the kitchen, keen to make sure he understood. 

“Wasn’t it? Because it looked very much like that to me!” 

“I wasn't running away from you….I was running away from my feelings. It's not the same thing!” 

"It sounds very much the same, if you ask me.” He knew he sounded like a petulant child insistent on getting the last word in but he was losing patience with her.  

“It’s not.  You were not the problem.  I was the problem.  I needed breathing space to work out how I felt.” 

Impatience dissolved into anger and he spun on his heels to face her again, “and in the meantime I was just meant to forget you ever existed was I? Good old Henrik, keep him close when you need him and then discard him like an old boot when you change your mind or when something better comes along?” He was furious; it was as if the stress, the heartbreak and the disappointment of the last two years were coming to a head and he could no longer contain himself.

“No Henrik….” she protested, her lip quivering with emotion, but she had barely managed to speak before he continued.

“It's happened before, so why not again? I should have expected it,” 

“What do you mean?” she said through the tears that were now spilling down her cheeks. 

“Well, isn’t that what happened in college?  I was good enough for you until David came along and after that you didn’t want to know me!” He turned his back towards her and hung his head, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the sink. He was being incredibly unfair but he couldn’t help himself, it had just flown out of him as if he had no control over his words.  He had crossed a line by talking about David; he had revealed his inner demon and he hated himself for it.   

“Oh Henrik,” she sighed, as the magnitude and depth of his hurt came clearly into focus. “Is that what you think? Have you been brooding on this for the last thirty years?  You know it wasn’t like that.”

A silence hung between them, as if the dust in the room was settling and letting out a collective sigh along with its occupants.  

"I should go," she murmured, turning into the hall and heading towards the front door.  There would be no positive outcome; no grand reunion that she had imagined. As she made her way down the hall she glanced into the rooms, the sitting room, the study; all neat and tidy, just as they had been the last time she had passed through here but that time she had been leaving with Henrik's kisses tingling on her lips and now she would be leaving with his wrath in her ears. 

When she reached the front door she paused and turned to look at him standing in the kitchen doorway, his face dark and troubled in the dim light. 

"I didn’t come here to argue with you Henrik.  In fact, this is not how I thought this morning would go at all, but I can see how much I have hurt you and I am very sorry for that.  Before I go, I just want to make a few things clear.  Firstly, I did not choose David over you all those years ago.  From my recollection, it was you who seemed to be unable or unwilling to commit to me. I tried so hard to reach you back then but you were so closed up Henrik, what chance did we have? For the record, my relationship with David only started when it became abundantly clear that nothing was going to progress between us, so please forget this silly idea that I chose David over you because I did not .  Secondly, the last time I left here I wanted to tell you that I loved you but I didn't and I have regretted that ever since, so, here it is: I love you, I fell in love with you when I was eighteen years old,  I love you now and…. I miss you." She blinked and a single tear ran down her cheek. 

His arms were rigid and his fingers twitched nervously at his sides, "You need to forget about me.  We only bring each other pain.” 

“ That’s not true ,” she protested, biting back the tears. 

“It’s too late Roxanna! But, you are right about one thing, I had my chance to be with you thirty years ago and I messed it up.  I was foolish to think that two years ago we had a second chance but I think our performances today prove that it would never work between us.”  

“Henrik…. ” she cried in one last desperate plea.

“Don’t make this even more difficult…” he growled as he gripped the bannister for support, "loving you is exhausting and I'm tired.  Goodbye Roxanna.” 

She could hardly breathe let alone speak.  She blinked away tears, fumbling with the door latch to let herself out of his home and his life.  Making her way down the steps she let out several deep breaths, releasing the emotion she had been desperately trying to hold back.  Through her blurry eyes came a vision in pink and she anxiously wiped away the tears with the back of her hand.  

“Roxanna?” Came a concerned voice.  

“Oh,” she gasped, taking in the kind face of Carole Copeland dressed in a bright pink anorak, jeans and walking boots.  

“Are you okay?” she asked, noting the other woman’s tear stained face. 

“Yes,” Roxanna replied, her voice unable to hide its emotion.  She searched in her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief which she used to dab underneath both eyes to prevent her make-up from running, well aware that it was probably all over her face anyway.  "I'm sorry, I can’t talk, I have to get to the airport, my taxi is waiting," she explained, gesturing towards the parked vehicle. 

“Okay,” Carole frowned, disturbed by the other woman’s state. 

“Bye,” Roxanna said almost inaudibly as she crossed the drive and climbed into the taxi, not daring to look back 

Carole looked on until the taxi had disappeared out of view and when she reached the front door she found it ajar. Pushing it open she found Henrik sitting on the stairs with his head in his hands.  

“Henrik?” 

“Oh Carole,” he said, standing to attention at the sight of her. 

“Is everything all right?,” she asked nervously from the threshold. 

“Yes….yes, it’s fine,” he faltered.  “I’m sorry, I'm running a little late, I…." He was pale and seemed agitated. 

“Is Roxanna okay?” she asked nervously, not wanting to pry but feeling uncertain about what she had just intruded on. 

He pursed his lips together, his brow furrowing.  “Yes, she’s fine,” he lied. "I….er...would you just give me a moment...I er...i just need to…" he said nervously, pointing to the cloakroom. "Why don't you go through and make coffee?"

"Okay," she murmured as she made her way down the hall, but she felt uneasy and she loitered in the kitchen doorway. She couldn't be certain but she was sure she could hear him throwing up. 

Behind the door Henrik rinsed his mouth and splashed cold water on to his face.  He could barely maintain eye contact with himself as he stared at his reflection in the mirror,  guilt and self-hatred washing over him as the memory of Roxanna’s tear stained face refused to lodge itself from his memory.   She had come to make peace and he had pushed her away in a moment of self-destruction fuelled by a life time of unreserved restraint and jealousy.  But, Carole was waiting for him and there was no time for self-pity.  He patted his face with a hand towel and replaced his glasses, forcing himself to look himself in the eye and telling himself it was better this way.  Thirty years of angst and loving one another from afar had come to an end, they could both draw a line under it and move on.  There would be no more tears, no more what-ifs; they were both free now.  

****

“Well, here we are then,” Henrik said as he pulled up outside Carole’s home later that day.  “Thank you for coming."

“It was a lovely day.  Thank you for taking me Henrik. Right...well, I'll just...” she picked up her bag and went to open the car door but then hesitated.  "Henrik, I know it's none of my business and please tell me shut up if you like, but I just wanted to check you are okay? You don't look well and you've been quiet all day."

"Have I?" He asked, feigning surprise. "It's been a busy week, I'm a little tired, that's all."

"Did something happened between you and Roxanna?" she asked tentatively.  

His body tensed up at her words and he tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his gaze fixed straight ahead of him, "we had a disagreement, that's all." 

"Is that why she was upset?" 

"Yes." 

"Is it something that can be resolved?" 

"Not really."

"Would you like to talk about it?" 

"No!” He snapped, and immediately he hated himself for doing so. “Sorry,” he mumbled, turning to look at her.  “As I said, its been a busy week.” 

“Its okay,” she said dipping her head, embarrassed that she had even raised the subject.  

Noticing her discomfort, he reached over and took her hand in his, “thank you for asking though."  Then, to her complete surprise, he reached over and brushed his lips against her cheek.  She let out a gasp as a feeling of warmth penetrated her entire body.  It was a feeling like no other and, in that moment, she knew she had fallen in love with Henrik Hanssen. 

Chapter Text

HENRIK HANSSEN SITS BEHIND HIS DESK IN HIS OFFICE. HE IS WEARING A DARK SUIT, WHITE SHIRT AND BLUE TIE. HE TALKS DIRECTLY TO CAMERA. 

Oh come on, don’t look at me like that.  Don’t you think I hate myself enough as it is? Well I do.   

I’m a fool and I'm cruel.   I feel sick every time I think about what I've done.  

I don’t seem to be able to erase the image of Roxanna's tear stained face from my memory; those beautiful features contorted with the pain.  I have done that to my love.  Hate me all you like because I hate myself even more.  

Why did I push her away? I’m not entirely sure if I’m honest.  Anger, stubbornness, jealousy? All of them.  But probably more so because I can’t bear to continue feeling. It's much easier to be numb than to feel. Numbness doesn’t bring heartbreak, it doesn’t bring pain.  

The last few years have been SO full of pain, SO full of loss.  

When Roxanna had the accident I put my WHOLE energy into loving her; into nurturing her back to health and when she left….well...it was like the whole world had come crashing down in front of me.  All my hopes and dreams for the future were shattered into tiny little pieces.  The only way I could even attempt to go on was to block it out, to numb myself to any feelings.  

Then, when she appeared again at Essie’s funeral, it was too much to bear, it all came flooding back, all the feelings, the hurt, the pain.  I couldn’t go through that all again so I PUT MY FOOT DOWN.  I said NO ROXANNA,  NO IT'S TOO LATE! 

Well...it is too late.  I’m too old, and as I said to her, I’m exhausted.  Exhausted with feeling.  Exhausted with being disappointed.  Exhausted with being used.  Exhausted with never being the prize.  All that about David....it was true, well, mostly.  I was jealous when Roxanna started to see David, in fact, if i'm honest, I continued to be jealous throughout their marriage but I’d never let on.  I was very discreet about it but I suspect David knew.  I mean, what man in their right mind would turn Roxanna Macmillan down and not regret it? David knew what a great prize Roxanna was, and I practically handed her over to him.  We never spoke about it though and he never rubbed my face in it; David wasn't like that, he was gentle and wise.  So unlike me….

Pause

I’ve lost my train of thought now.  I don’t know what point I'm supposed to be making….oh yes,  why I turned Roxanna Macmillan down for the second time in my life.  Better to forget than to feel , that was it.  Push Roxanna to the back of one's mind, avoid any possible chance of ever feeling again, then I’ll be safe.  But who am I kidding? 

I thought the minute she left the house and jumped into the taxi it would all go away but it hasn’t…I don’t seem to be able to escape from her and it’s not just in my own mind, she’s all around me! 

This week at the hospital it's been, “Roxanna Macmillian this, Roxanna Macmillan that…” 

Sacha questioning me about whether I’ve spoken to Roxaxnna?  I don’t even know why he’s at work! I told him he should be at home with that child of Essie’s, not wandering the corridors of the hospital questioning me about whether I’ve spoken to Roxanna. He obviously knew she was coming to see me.  He probably knows everything that has gone on between Roxanna and I.  I know they are good friends; fair enough I suppose, he is a good man but please Sacha ….just leave me alone! 

Even in the queue at Pulses, I couldn’t escape! 

Two nurses in front of me were talking about how “wonderfully young and tanned Miss Macmillan looked” and “how lovely it was to see her again.”   “I wish I had the chance to live in the Caribbean, what an amazing life Miss Macmillan must have! Much better than living here in dreary old Holby City” .  

I told them to stop gossipping and to hurry along….well they were holding up the queue and I had to be somewhere.  I’m sure I heard one of them mumble something under her breath but I didn’t hear what; probably something along the lines of, “she’s much better off without that miserable sod!” 

Well, they were right. Roxanna is much better off without me.   

Pause

Now…. you want to talk about the elephant in the room don't you? I knew it. I can tell from the way you are glaring at me. 

Okay then….Carole Copeland. Kind and gentle Carole. You think I'm using her don't you? Well….you'd be right. I am using Carole. 

Oh don't look at me like that!  It's not that simple. 

The thing is, I do actually like Carole. That's what makes it so, so...easy. She is an easy person to like, a beautiful person really. I don't know how I would have managed this past year without her.  She was a great help with Oskar, he took an instant liking to her. She seemed to have a natural affinity with him, unlike me, although I do think I did all right in the end with Oskar, but it's only because of Carole;  she taught me how to 'let go’. 

Mmm, I could envisage a future of some sort with Carole. She's a natural caregiver and perhaps that's what I need at this stage of my life. She'd make an excellent housewife that's for sure; she can cook and clean, I know she'd take care of the domestic side of things….

But perhaps I'm being unfair. After all, I'm not looking for a housekeeper am I? 

There is more to Carole Copeland, that's for sure. She's an excellent dancer and really rather funny.  She has a particular knack of being able to say things most people only think, and she somehow manages to get away with it too. She's also loyal, and when one has been abandoned as much as me, that’s really quite important.  

Of course she doesn't have Roxanna's looks but does that matter? Well of course it doesn't, I would be shallow if I concerned myself with that.  Who am I to talk about looks anyway, I'm hardly Errol Flynn am I? 

Anyway, I'm not sure the physical side of it is that important anyway, I mean we're not teenagers are we? At our age that's the last thing we should be considering.  

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy sex as much as the next man….and with Roxanna, well that was just….there are no words, other than it was as if we were made for one another….but Carole? Well  I'm not sure she'd welcome intimacy...she's never given that impression anyway. She scuttled away from the car as quick as lightning the other week when I pecked her on the cheek. 

I'm sure we could come to some arrangement in the bedroom department if it ever came to that...I mean this house is so large, she could have her own room if she wanted.  Maybe I'd prefer that actually..I'm not used to sharing my space. I did with Roxanna of course whilst she was convalescing, and beyond, but that was different….its always different with Roxanna…

Pause

I know you're concerned I'm going to hurt Carole, but that's not my intention, not at all. I said the same to young Dominic the other day when he came to speak to me.  He pretends not to care about Carole but it's all bravado.  He’s actually very protective of his mother, it's really rather touching.  I thought it brave of him to address me in the way he did.  He said he was worried Carole was getting “carried away” with the idea that there was some kind of romance going on between the two of us; he was worried she was going to end up making a fool out of herself and he wanted me to put her straight before it came to that.  I think he was really rather shocked when I didn’t deny the existence of a potential romance.   

I have a lot to offer Carole. Companionship, financial security….now, that I know she would value - that good for nothing ex-husband of hers left her with almost next to nothing. I know Dominic tries to help out but she’s a proud woman and quite rightly so, but I could make her life considerably less stressful financially, that’s for sure.  

Pause 

Dominic is right though, I should talk to Carole.  If I've learnt anything from all this, hesitancy will get you nowhere and if I really want to move on then I have to do something…..

FADE OUT

Chapter Text

ROXANNA SITS AT THE KITCHEN TABLE IN HER TRINIDAD HOME. IN FRONT OF HER IS A GLASS OF GIN AND TONIC AND A BOTTLE OF GIN. ON THE KITCHEN SIDE IS A CHOPPING BOARD WITH A HALF SLICED LIME. IT'S DARK OUTSIDE. 

I can't sleep, I can't eat, I keep dissolving into floods of tears at the drop of a hat... the only thing I do seem to be able to do is drink gin! 

Don't worry, I'm not turning into an alcoholic. It's just a few medicinal glasses before bed,  otherwise l lie there wide awake thinking about him. 

It's pathetic, I know. I'm a fifty year old woman pining like a silly school girl. But I just can't stop thinking about what could have been and how bleak the future seems now. 

I'm sure you think I'm foolish. I think I'm foolish . I mean what did I expect? That Henrik would come running into my arms, everything forgiven and forgotten, like the past two years had never happened?

Well no I didn't expect that, but I did think some good may have come from it. I certainly didn't expect him to be so final about it. 

PAUSE 

The worst thing about it all is the realisation of how much he hates me. He was so ferocious, so angry. I've never seen him like that before….

I want to cry every time I think about how much I've hurt him. He gave me so much of himself after the accident; he literally loved me back to life.

Essie told me afterwards that Henrik would sit by my bed, day and night, just holding my hand when the accident first happened. I don't remember, but she said he refused to go home or even to his office for fear that I might wake up -or worse - whilst he was away.  

When I did wake up he was indeed, the first person I saw.  

I remember it so vividly. Henrik was sleeping in the chair beside me and at first, I was confused.  I thought we were back in Rigden and he'd fallen asleep in my room, because that used to happen a lot.  I remember trying to call his name and reaching out for him but my body wasn't strong enough, I think I only managed a grunt, and then he was there, caressing my face and pressing kisses to my forehead. He was weeping tears of joy and I knew then that he loved me.

It was as if all those years of stiff upper lip and polite tip toeing around each other was thrown out the window and we could just breathe after thirty years of holding our breaths in anticipation. We were both more relaxed and more open with each other, more touchy feely. Loss, tragedy and trauma had brought us together. 

If it hadn't been for Henrik I'm not sure I would have made such a remarkable recovery. He pushed me, and he gave me a reason to live, and I'll never forgive myself for what I have done to him. 

Oh wait….

SHE STRAINS TO LISTENS AT THE DOOR

…..Doreen's calling...

Wait there, I'll be back...she probably needs the loo or something…

ROXANNA GULPS DOWN THE CONTENTS OF HER GLASS AND LEAVES THE KITCHEN. THE LIGHTS GO DOWN.

*****

THE LIGHTS GO UP AND ROXANNA IS SITTING ON THE BALCONY, A REFILLED GLASS IN HER  HAND. 

I'm back....she only wanted a glass of water. I don't know why she didn't take one to bed with her. I'm sure she does it on purpose just to spite me! 

I'm sorry...i'm being mean...i know she's lonely too.  Who'd have thought, all those years ago when we were at loggerheads with each other over my marriage to David, that Doreen and I would end up in this house together, both widowed and lonely, learning to coexist with each other after all those years of animosity. 

PAUSE 

To be fair, we are actually getting on all right. I think being thrown together like this has helped. She needs me and I...well I haven't got anyone else….we have  to get on...otherwise it would be unbearable….

But this whole business with Henrik…..it's set me back about four years. I feel as hollow and as lost as I did when David died. I thought I'd come to terms with losing him but with losing Henrik too, it's made it all feel so raw again.  

I haven't spoken to anyone about what's happened, not even Sacha. He's got enough going on without listening to my dramas as well. No one here knows either. I wouldn't dream of speaking to Doreen about it and I don't really have any close friends. 

No, the only thing that's gonna get me through this is work. Always the work. That was a little motto the four of us used to have, Henrik, David, John and I.  

PAUSE AS SHE LOOKS ON THOUGHTFULLY. 

Well….work is all I have now…my baby is my research. It always has been...I sacrificed having actual babies for work so….

Another reason to cry...no babies, no children, no husband, nothing.

PAUSE

Maybe this is all for the best... Like Henrik said, we couldn't even manage five minutes in each other's company without shouting at one another….

…...besides,  Carole seems nice. 

I'm a little bit surprised if I'm honest.  I would never have picked her for Henrik but who am I to judge? And if she makes him happy then so be it...

I can't hold any grudges against Carole.  I've only got myself to blame for this mess. 

SHE STANDS UP AND PICKS UP THE GLASS. 

Well, I might as well have one last drink...the bottle is almost empty anyway… it would be rude not to finish it...wouldn't it? 

ROXANNA WALKS BACK INSIDE THE HOUSE. FADE OUT. 

Chapter Text

THE LIGHTS GO UP. CAROLE COPELAND IS IN HER BEDROOM STANDING IN FRONT OF A FULL LENGTH MIRROR AND HOLDING UP CLOTHES AGAINST HERSELF. THE WARBROBE DOORS ARE WIDE OPEN AND THE BED IS LITTERED WITH CLOTHES. 

I'm gonna have to buy something new! I've got absolutely nothing to wear! I don't even know what to wear, I've never been to anything fancy like this. Henrik said not to worry too much about it but its okay for men isn't it? They've only got the choice of a tuxedo and jobs a good'en, it's different for women. 

It's a charity fundraising ball for the Association of Surgeons. It's at a fancy hotel in the countryside….we're staying over. Seperate rooms of course….not that I would have minded sharing but I don't think Henrik's like that. He's a true gentleman in every sense of the word. 

Although….he has been a lot more...familiar shall we say….recently. I couldn't believe it the other week when he leant over and planted a kiss on my cheek. I was so shocked I just legged it out of the car. I hope he didn't take it the wrong way cos I didn't mean it like that, I just didn't know what to do with myself! 

SHE SITS DOWN ON THE BED AND CLUTCHES THE GARMENT SHE IS HOLDING. 

I do like him...I mean romantically… although I can't quite believe he likes me in that way too. I mean I think he likes me in that way, he's certainly giving that impression.  I could be completely wrong of course but...well, cosy meals for two, days out, weekends away….what are you meant to think!? 

I know he's lonely, that's obvious and if companionship is all he wants then that's fine by me but that kiss...well it just makes you wonder doesn't it? 

I'm not entirely gullible if that's what you're thinking? I do know about Roxanna. Well, I know what Dominic has told me and of course I saw her at Henrik's house the other week. That was all very odd. Henrik seemed awfully upset about it all and she was obviously upset. 

Dominic has been very blunt about it all too.  

Sometimes I wonder if he's the same boy I raised because he can be very cruel at times. Oh he says he's only looking out for me but he can make me feel completely worthless at times. 

" Mr Hanssen is not going to be interested in you, is he?"  

"I don't think Mr Hanssen is an egg and chips kinda guy do you?" 

"You're making a fool out of yourself Carole, its embarrassing!" 

" You do know he's been in love with Roxanna for years don't you?" 

Well Dominic, Henrik did enjoy his plate of egg and chips actually, and i'm the one going to the surgeons ball with him aren't I, so there! 

Dominic's changed you know.  Ever since Ange came on the scene it's like he can't even bear to be around me, as if he's embarrassed by me. He won't even call me mum anymore which upsets me ever so much. 

SHE TAKES A TISSUE FROM THE BOX ON THE BEDSIDE CABINET AND DABS HER EYES.

Everything I've done over the last thirty years has been for that boy! I wasted all those years with Barry because I thought it was better for Dominic to have two parents than one and now….well I'm not so sure I was right.  Maybe both Dominic and I would be much better off if I'd have left Barry all those years ago. 

Women are so much more confident these days.  But I was so afraid that if social services found out Barry and I had split up then they might take Dominic back off us after we had waited so long to get him….well that's what Barry used to say anyway. Now I think he was just lying to make me stay...it's called emotional abuse these days but back then it was just how it was.

Women...well those from my end of town anyway...we didn't have any say! Anyway, how could I have left on my own with a child to support? I didn't have a job... I didn't have any money! I mean I had the housekeeping that Barry would give me each week but that was for food, there was never any spare. 

Well I'm proud of where I am now! It took a lot of guts to leave Barry and I never thought I could get a job like the one I've got at the hospital. 

Perhaps I'm stronger than I give myself credit for and if I've got a little chance of happiness with Henrik Hanssen then I'm gonna grab it with both hands, nevermind what Dominic, and anyone else for that matter, thinks! 

But going back to Roxanna...I know Henrik has, or had, feelings for her. It was obvious from the moment she stepped foot into Essie's wake. His eyes were following her round the room and no one could get any sense out of him, it was ike he was mesmerised by her….and of course I've heard the rumours at the hospital about his infamous bedside vigil! 

But she's not here is she ... and I am! 

I'm the one he trusted to take care of little Oskar. I mean if she loved him she wouldn't have left Holby would she? From what I've heard she left the hospital right in the lurch when she left, didn't even give them any notice. I know someone in fact -she works down the supermarket, a lovely woman - well she was meant to have an operation when Roxanna disappeared to sunnier climates and the operation had to be cancelled and rearranged. It's not right is it? Not when people are relying on you like that. Some people have no sense of commitment, no wonder Henrik had a to-do with her. 

Don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against Roxanna; she's always been very polite to me and what she went through at the hands of that Mr Gaskell, well that was horrific and I wouldn't wish that on anyone but...well...in terms of Henrik I honestly don't think I've got anything to worry about. She seems to have upset him very much. He doesn't need that added stress, he's got a stressful enough job as it is. What he needs is someone who will take care of him. 

SHE REACHES INTO A DRAWER AND REMOVES TWO PIECES OF BLACK FRILLY UNDERWEAR. 

Don't tell anyone will you, but I bought these the other day. 

I was walking past Marks and these were on a mannequin in the window. I know it's silly at my age but I can't remember the last time I treated myself to some nice underwear so I thought to hell with it! And if I get the chance to show it off to someone special then more's the better. 

I don't think I've got a bad figure for a woman of my age, I've got wobbly bits but haven't we all? I think I have good genes; my mother was a looker and always took care of herself. She would put a full face of makeup on every day, even until the day before she died.

SHE HOLDS UP THE GARMENTS AND STUDIES THEM IN MORE DETAIL AND FITS THE BRA CUPS AROUND HER BOSOM OVER HER JUMPER. 

I'm sure Henrik would appreciate it, I mean it's classy isn't it? It wasn't cheap either! I don't usually pay Marks' prices but with this weekend away coming up..well you never know do you? 

I've thought about sex with Henrik...of course i have! Well, haven't you? He's a bit of a dish isn't he and have you seen the size of those hands? I've always liked tall, dark handsome men in suits. 

I imagine he's a very considerate lover, he's always very gentle with me at Salsa. He wouldn't have any complaints with me either. Barry always said I was very good in the bedroom, not that he was a Casanova. With him it was over as soon as he'd got his fill but I can't imagine Henrik's being like that. 

Oh don't screw your face up like that! Older people do have sex you know! 

PAUSE

Well maybe you're right. Perhaps I am being too much. Both Barry and Dominic say I'm too much. I don't want Henrik to be embarrassed by me either. I better be on my best behaviour at this ball, it wouldn't do to embarrass him in front of his colleagues.

Roxanna wouldn't embarrass him and she'd know exactly what to wear! In fact she's probably got the perfect outfit sitting in her wardrobe right now. She'd probably look much better in this underwear as well!

SHE THROWS THE UNDERWEAR ON THE BED IN FRUSTRATION. 

Oh I don't know, maybe I'll just tell him I can't go to this ball after all. I'm sure he'd manage to find someone to replace me, a man like that.

We all know that Cinderella is just a fairytale and in reality she'd never get to go to the ball.

Happily Ever Afters don't happen in real life do they?

Not to people like me anyway. 

FADE OUT.

Chapter Text

“That was fun! I'm so glad I changed my mind about coming away this weekend,” Carole beamed as she flopped down in her chair beside Henrik, slightly out of breath.  They had been on the dance floor for the past half hour, Henrik swirling Carole around like a whirling dervish, the skirt of her red dress billowing out like a parachute.  He had made her feel like a million dollars, nay, like a movie star.  

She couldn't help thinking of the Chris De Burgh song; 

The lady in red is dancing with me, cheek to cheek,

There's nobody here, it's just you and me,

It's where I want to be

That is exactly how she felt; they had barely spoken to anyone else since arriving at the hotel that afternoon and she wouldn’t have wanted it to be any other way.  She was in her element having Henrik all to herself. 

She'd spent hours deliberating about whether to come, but it had been the dress that had been the deciding factor. She had spotted it in a charity shop, only it hadn’t been the dress that had drawn her into the shop but the chess set displayed in the shop window. It had reminded her so much of the one in Henrik’s house and she had gone in to ask the price thinking it might make a nice addition to his collection but when she caught sight of the red dress hanging nonchalantly on a hanger, the chess set was soon forgotten.  She had tried it on in the shop changing room and it had fitted like a glove.  From then on, she knew she would be going to the ball.  The chess set would have to wait until the next pay day. 

“So you were unsure about coming?” Henrik asked as he glanced over at her, not having been aware beforehand that there was any doubt in her mind.   

“Well if I’m honest, I wasn't sure about coming.  I didn't think it would be my thing. I thought it would be full of stuffy old surgeons, but actually, I've really enjoyed it.”

Henrik let out a little laugh, “despite spending the entire evening with a stuffy old surgeon you mean?”   

“No!” Carole protested, giving Henrik a playful whack on the arm, her cheeks blushing for the umpteenth time that evening. “You’re not stuffy.  Old maybe.. but I wouldn't say stuffy….” she countered, her eyes laughing.  

He smiled back at her, “well I'm very glad you came. Now, would you like another drink?”    

“Ooh yes please….” But when she glanced over at the bar she saw the shutters being pulled down, “oh,” she sighed.   

Henrik followed her gaze, “Oh... that’s a shame.” He looked down at his watch and glanced around the room and noted the dwindling number of guests , “It seems the night is drawing to a close.”  

“Not necessarily....” 

“Oh?” 

“I've got a bottle of brandy in my suitcase upstairs, we could have a drink in my room if you wanted?” 

Henrik raised his eyebrows and thought for a moment, “why not? A night cap would just finish the evening off nicely,” he agreed as he stood. 

“Oh don't forget Mr Ted,” Carole said as she rose from her seat and passed him the oversized teddy bear that had been sitting proudly on a chair opposite them.   

“Oh yes, how could I forget!” He said dryly as he took the item from her.  

She giggled as he held it in a headlock under his arm. “What are you going to do with him? I can’t believe how much you ended up paying for it!”  Henrik’s was the winning bid for the item in the charity auction. 

“Well, it's all in aid of a good cause.  I’d rather have been the proud owner of that case of vintage wine but never mind," he said reflecting on being outbid on his favoured lot but he'd set himself limit on how much he was prepared to spend so he only had himself to blame. "I don’t know what I'll do with him,” he said, absentmindedly stroking the bear's head, “Maybe the children’s ward would like him?”

“What a lovely idea, I'm sure they'd love him,” Carole agreed as the pair of them headed out of the ballroom and into the hotel lobby. 

“Tell me Carole, do you make a habit of carrying bottles of brandy around in your suitcase?” 

“No of course not!” she giggled. “Mini bars can be so expensive in places like this.  I like to bring a bottle just in case I fancy a tipple.” 

“Fair enough,” Henrik conceded. 

 “Ooh do you mind if I….” Carole said gesturing towards the Ladies.  

“Of course,”

"I won't be a minute," she said as she disappeared into the toilets.  

He turned to take in his surroundings, the grand entrance hall of a former private country home, now transformed into an upmarket country hotel.  He wandered over to admire a collection of taxidermy deer heads on the wall but he had hardly had a chance to look before he heard his name being called. 

“Henrik Bloody Hanssen? It is, isn't it?” The voice was deep and booming. Henrik turned on his heels to eye the rather rotund, pink cheeked man in front of him. 

“Giles, how are you?” 

Mr Giles Holt,  Neurosurgeon, now CEO of the Royal Infirmary in Edinburgh. Henrik and Giles had been F1’s together in Edinburgh many years ago.  Never really friends, but not enemies either.  They had a polite respect for one another, but beyond their parallel careers, nothing really in common. 

“I’m great Henrik, thanks for asking." He shook Henrik’s hand vigorously,  "I didn’t know you were here?” He said, marvelling at the sight of his old colleague and the teddy bear under his arm.

“Yes, yes I am,” said Henrik stating the obvious.  

“It’s funny you know... such a coincidence... I was only thinking about you a few days ago.”

“Oh,” said Henrik, his interest piqued.  

“Yes...I was contacted by a mutual acquaintance and it got me thinking about the good old days when we were in digs together.  You would nag me to turn my music down and I would be constantly borrowing your milk.”

The corners of Henrik mouth turn upwards at the memories; it was just as Giles had described; they had been like chalk and cheese, thrown together in a shared experience but a mutual acquaintance? Henrik wasn’t aware that they had anyone else in common.  His curiosity got the better of him: “a mutual acquaintance?”

“Yes….” Giles beamed, “...Roxanna Macmillan.” 

It was like being hit in the face with a brick….again and again; Henrik's mouth fell agape and the colour drained from his face.  

Giles noticed Henrik's glazed look and thought, for a moment, that he'd   made a mistake, “you do know her don’t you?”

Henrik tightened his hold on the teddy bear, “Yes, yes, of course,” he gulped.  

“I thought so,” Giles smiled, glad the mistake was not his.  “I can't believe you let that one go,”

“What?” Henrik exclaimed, perturbed  by the mans words. Surely Giles didn't know about that.

“Letting Roxanna leave her role as Head of Neurology at Holby.  What happened? Did the Board refuse to give her more money or something?”

“Yeees,” came Henrik's strangulated response.  Any light heartedness from the evening's consumption of alcohol was quickly disappearing. 

“That woman is worth her weight in gold, she has a phenomenal brain and I hear she’s a very good surgeon too.  I’d snap her up for my department any day.  In fact,  I did try but she was not having any of it.”

“Oh?” Henrik tentatively enquired.  

“No...she was only interested in funding for her research.” He replied glumly.   

“I see,” Henrik mustered, but he did not have time to dwell on the matter because within moments Carole was at his side.

“Whose this?” Giles asked excitedly at the sight of a smiley faced Carole sidling up to Henrik. 

Glancing down at his companion, Henrik pulled himself together.  “This is Carole.” It was ambiguous but to the point.

“Well…..” Giles smiled, amused to see Henrik squirming.  He fixed his gaze firmly on Carole and drank her in, his brain working overtime speculating on Carole’s role in Henrik’s life, “.....I hope you both enjoy the rest of your stay.  It’s been good to catch up with you again Henrik.  We should keep in touch.  Go for a drink sometime.  You’re always welcome in Edinburgh, we could relive our youth again hey?” He gave Henrik a gentle pat on the arm and Henrik responded with a tight lipped smile.  

“Great to meet you too Carole.  Keep him out of trouble won’t you?” He joked, his finger wagging at Henrik.  

“I will,” replied Carole, slightly bemused.  

“Anyway, goodnight to the both of you.” 

“Goodnight,” came their response in unison as they watched him disappear up the corridor.  

“He seemed nice,” Carole mused

“Mmm,” Henrik managed.  

“Is he a friend of yours?”

Henrik breathed in deeply and then exhaled in an attempt to combat his anxiety and calm his nerves. "We were F1’s together that’s all. We’ve not seen each other for years.” 

“Awh, well it's nice you got to catch up.”

Henrik appeared to be fixed to the spot.  His gaze still in the direction of Giles who was now nowhere to be seen.  

“Shall we go?” Carole asked, noting Henrik's seemingly reluctance to move. 

“What?” His mind was elsewhere.  His mind was on Roxanna MacMillan.  He had been trying so hard to forget her but here she was again, invading his consciousness, invading his senses, invading his heart.  As much as he tried there seemed to be no way of escaping her. “Oh...yes, of course,” he said, re-focusing his attention on the woman who was actually by his side.  “Let’s go,” he said, his free arm resting gently on the small of Carole’s back as he guided her towards the staircase.  

****

"Here we are, I knew there was another glass somewhere." 

They were now back in Carole's room and she came excitedly through from the ensuite clutching two water glasses. "These will have to do. You can sit down you know, make yourself comfortable," she instructed but Henrik was still hovering in the doorway in a state of stupor. 

He couldn't even remember traveling in the elevator from the lobby to get to Carole's room, so full was his mind of Roxanna. So she was serious about her research. She could have come to him for advice about funding, he stewed to himself.  God, if she was wanted he would fund the project himself; he still had some of his father's money making a healthy profit in stocks and shares,  it wouldn't be too difficult to access it. Maybe he could borrow some money from Oskar's trust fund, he would pay it back of course before they boy reached….STOP! He told himself angrily as he clenched his fists. He was delusional ….Roxanna wouldn't accept anything from him, not now,  not ever! He had burnt his bridges, he had ruined their friendship, he had ruined everything! 

"Put teddy down on the bed if you like.” It sounded like she was talking to a small child but she hadn’t meant it to come out like that.  “Ooh it's so good to get those shoes off," she purred as she threw the stilettos aside and curled her legs beneath her on the sofa. "Come on," she directed, patting the space next to her. 

"Right," he mumbled, dropping the teddy on the bed as he made his way over the sofa and sat himself down. 

"Here you go," Carole said, handing him a glass. 

"Thank you," he replied and drank the glass down in one gulp. 

"Oh my!" Carole chuckled, "were you thirsty?" She asked as she reached for the bottle and refilled his glass. 

"Yes, sorry," he said, relaxing a little and loosening his bow tie. 

"Have as much as you like. It's only a cheap bottle of plonk." 

"It tastes all right," Henrik murmured as he examined the colour of the liquid and took a sip.   

"It’s from Aldi. I do all my shopping there, it’s so much cheaper than the other supermarkets. Speaking of money, I must pay you back for this room. I mean look at it! I wasn't expecting anything like this." It was the honeymoon suite; it had been the only room available, apart from his own room, when he was making the booking.

"It's fine, I don't want any money. It's my treat," he said, giving her a fond smile.

"Well, I haven't paid for anything, I haven’t paid for any drinks or food..." she went on. 

"Honestly, it's fine," he said, his hand resting on the top of hers. "Please let's not mention money anymore." 

"Okay, well if you insist," she replied shyly, overwhelmingly conscious of his soft palm engulfing her hand.

"I do." 

"Well, thank you. I've had a lovely time,"  

"So have I." 

His hand remained nestled over hers and a comfortable silence descended over them as they both sipped their drinks.  Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was a figment of her imagination but she sensed a shift in the atmosphere and then she said something she had been thinking about for months, "I like you Henrik…." 

Silence followed.  It was as if someone had pressed the pause button; they were a tableau, her words hanging above them in the air.  Looking deep into his glass he eventually replied, “do you?"  

"I do," she replied breathlessly, excitement and nervousness bubbling up in equal measures.  She felt the weight of his hand upon hers,  his skin was clammy. 

Eventually he turned to look at her, his hazel eyes soft and gentle beneath the lenses of his glasses. "Carole…" he faltered but his look had already entrapped her and she reached slightly to press a kiss to his lips.  It was gentle and tentative at first but he didn't pull away so she held her lips against his.  Freeing her hand from beneath his,  she reached up to touch his cheek, it was softer than she had expected. Again he did not resist so she moved her second hand so she was now cupping his face. His lips were wet, and she could taste the brandy.  She kissed him again, this time more forcefully and his hand moved to her hip and she took it as encouragement to kiss him further, this time pressing her tongue into his mouth.  

She was caught up in the moment, lost in Henrik Hanssen, his touch, his smell, his taste and with it, she had lost her inhibitions; she felt free for the first time in her life. 

"Make love to me Henrik," she gasped. 

"What?" He whispered. 

"I said, make love to me," and then without another thought she stood up in front of him and unzipped her dress, slipped the shoestring straps from her shoulders and allowed the dress to fall to the ground. 

"I….I can't. I'm sorry…" he faltered, "I need to go," and in the blink of an eye he was bolting out of the door leaving Carole standing alone in nothing but her Marks & Spencer underwear, tears glistening in her eyes. 

Mr Ted just looked on from the bed. 

Chapter Text

The next morning Henrik lay in bed, the Egyptian cotton sheets pulled firmly over his head. Breakfast was probably being served but he couldn't face it. Not only did he have the hangover from hell but he couldn't face Carole either. What a mess this whole thing had turned into. That poor woman, exposing herself to him like that, only to be rebuffed in such a cowardly and childish manner. He should never have let it go that far. Why on earth did he let her kiss him? He should never have agreed to a drink in Carole's room in the first place; in fact he should never have brought her away for the weekend at all! What a despicable person he was  carrying on like some Casanova, leading her on and giving false impressions. He was the one at fault, not Carole. He let out an all mighty groan and flung back the covers revealing his naked dehydrated body.  It was time to put things right. 

****

"I'm sorry sir but Mrs Copeland checked out about half an hour ago." 

"Are you sure?" Henrik asked, frowning and checking his watch. "Room 106?" 

The receptionist checked the computer screen again, "yes sir, room 106." 

"I see," he replied disconcertedly and aimlessly looked around the lobby for her.

Noting his anxiety the receptionist added, "if it helps sir, she asked for a copy of the local bus timetable. 

"The bus!" He exclaimed. "But we're in the middle of nowhere. Surely the buses don't run on a Sunday, do they?"

"They do, sir, but as I said to Mrs Copeland, they operate a limited service and there's only two buses a day into the City on a Sunday. She'd have been lucky to catch the first one. I offered to call a taxi but she said she preferred to catch the bus.." 

Henrik let out a deep sigh. Could this day get any worse! "I see, well can you give me directions to the bus stop please?" 

"Of course sir. Oh and she also left this for you," the receptionist bent down and retrieved Mr Ted from behind the desk and handed him over.  

**** 

It took Henrik longer to find the bus stop than the receptionist had described but he could see it now in the distance as his car hurtled along the country lane.  Sure enough Carole was there in her pink anorak, sheltering from the drizzle in a rudimentary bus shelter, her suitcase at her feet. The bus stop was at least a mile from the hotel, not including the driveway up to the hotel, so god only knows how she'd managed to drag the case along the grass verge. He pulled the car up in a muddy puddle just in front of the bus shelter and wound down the passenger window. 

"Carole…" he shouted through the window. 

She had seen the car coming in the distance and had deliberately looked away in the opposite direction when the car pulled up. 

"Carole, get in the car," he sighed.  

She continued to ignore him so he got out of the car and walked around the vehicle until he was standing directly in front of her. "I'm sorry," he said with intent, and when she gave him a tentative glance he could see she was on the verge of tears. "We need to talk. Please will you get in the car?" 

She gave it a moment's consideration and then reluctantly, she nodded her head and he picked up her suitcase and placed it in the boot of the car whilst she climbed in the passenger seat. 

He climbed into the driver's seat and within seconds she was in floods of tears. "I've made a complete and utter fool of myself haven't I?" She sobbed, covering her face with her hands. 

"No Carole," he said forcefully.  He turned in his seat to look at her, "If anyone has made a fool of themselves it's me. I am completely to blame for all of this, not you.”

"Oh you don't have to say that. I know what you're really thinking: silly old Carole Copeland, mutton dressed as lamb!" 

"Carole, don't talk like that," he said, shaking his head, ashamed that he should be the cause of her thinking of herself in such a way.  

"I’m sure you'll have a good laugh about it with everyone at work won’t you?" 

"No!” He responded vehemently.  “No Carole, of course I won't. I'm not like that, you know that . Listen, I am so sorry Carole. This has nothing to do with you, this is about me. I'm sorry if I've given you the wrong impression. I've had a lot going on recently and you've been so helpful to me with Oskar, I’m confused….." 

"It’s all right Henrik,” she interjected, “you don’t need to make up excuses, I know you don’t want me in that way do you?” 

“I..er…I think perhaps we are better off as  just friends," he admitted.  

She pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed her eyes, looking away from him and giving herself time to pull herself together.  Eventually she said, “the alcohol last night...it must have gone to my head. You won't mention any of this to anyone will you?" 

"Of course not. You know I won't. I give you my promise." 

"I don't suppose you've had any breakfast have you?" she managed to muster. 

"No I haven't…" 

"Me neither. Drive me back to mine and I'll do us both a fry up." 

"Oh there's no need…." he politely protested. 

"Aren't you hungry?" 

"Well yes but…." 

"Come on then. We're still friends aren't we?" 

"Yes of course," 

"Well friends cook for each other. Now I don't know about you but I could eat a horse, so come on let's go!" 

****

By the time they'd reached Carole's little terrace house the weather had improved and the sun was shining. Carole had outdone herself with the breakfast- bacon, eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes and hot buttered toast. It wasn’t Henrik's usual but he'd enjoyed it nevertheless and it had helped to soak up the alcohol. He was now resting his eyes in a deckchair in Carole's little backyard enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face.  She joined him a few moments later and handed him a mug of strong tea before sitting herself down on the adjacent deckchairs and taking a sip of the steaming mug. 

"Thanks," he murmured, the fitful night of sleep and the contentment of a full stomach finally catching up with him.

"Can I ask you something Henrik," she asked before sipping her drink.

"Yes, anything," he replied, taking a sip of his tea.

"How long have you been in love with Roxanna?" 

“I ….” he spluttered, the unexpectedness of her words causing him to choke on his tea.  He sat up right in his seat and shook the spilt tea from his sleeve and hand. 

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," she offered.

"No, it's...it's just a bit of a shock. I've been asked the exact same question before." 

"Oh?" 

He gulped, "Essie...she asked me the exact same thing a few years ago." 

"Oh...and what did you say?" 

"I didn't say anything." 

"I see, and what about now?" 

He let out a deep sigh, and pursed his lips in thought. "No. I mean yes. I mean I do want to answer." He took another deep breath before proceeding, "I've been in love with Roxanna for more than thirty years," 

It was Carole's turn to splutter on her tea, "thirty years!" She exclaimed. 

"Yes, since Rigden. Since we met at college, in America. I was in the year above her and...well… I fell in love with her on the first day of term." 

"Does she know?" 

"Yes. I told her two years ago but the next day she left for Trinidad without a word. I didn’t see her again until Essie's funeral." 

"I see," she replied emphatically.  "Does she love you?" 

"It's complicated.  She was married to David….he was a wonderful person, he was a good friend to me."

“It doesn’t mean she can’t love you as well.  She seemed very upset when I saw her leaving your house a few weeks ago.” 

“Mmm. She...she actually told me that she was in love with me that day”  He admitted sheepishly.

"And what did you say?" 

"I said it was too late…" 

"Why on earth did you say that?” Carole asked incredulously.  

"I….I don't actually know. Pride, stubbornness? I suppose I was upset with her for leaving two years ago.”

"You silly man!” She exclaimed.  No wonder she looked so upset. Well, what are you going to do?" 

"Do? Well nothing…she’s back in Trinidad now so…." 

"Oh for goodness sake Henrik, what are we going to do with you!?” 

“I don’t know,” he replied glumly.  “How did you guess….about Roxanna?”

“Woman’s intuition perhaps? I don’t know.  I saw you both talking at the bar at the funeral and Dominic had said something about the two of you going back a long way.  I didn’t want to believe it at first but then when I saw Roxanna at your house, well….it seems obvious now.”

They both drank their drinks in silence and finally Carole stood up and took his mug from him.  “You should go now,” she said, smiling wistfully, “you’ve got a busy day ahead of you.” 

Chapter Text

“Louisa, there’s a car pulling up. See who it is. It’s too early for Roxanna.” It was Doreen, David’s mother.  She was sitting in an armchair on the veranda of Roxanna’s Trinidadian home.  Doreen’s carer, a small woman in her fifties, came out of the house carrying a pile of freshly laundered towels.  

“What is it?”

“Someone’s here, I can’t see who it is?”

“It’s a taxi,” replied Louisa, squinting in the sunlight as she peered down at the vehicle that had stopped at the end of the driveway.   “It’s a man, white, tall,” she described as she watched the passenger retrieve his suitcase from the trunk of the vehicle.  

“Skinny?” asked the older woman. 

“Yeees,” replied Louisa scrutinising the figure walking the up the drive towards them, “glasses too,” 

“It’s him,” Doreen said, with an air of excitement. 

“Who?” asked Louise, screwing her face up. 

“Him! The one she’s been waiting for!”

“Oh him!” Louisa drawled, sharing Doreen’s excitement.  “Well, I better get this place tidied up, "she said, turning on her heels and heading back into the house, “you want me to call Roxanna?” she said over her shoulder.  

“No, she can wait a little longer. I want him all to myself for a while,” Doreen said, smiling mischievously to herself.

“Hello…..?” came the man’s voice, as he paused at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the veranda.  

"So you came for her?" Doreen shouted from the comfort of her armchair.  She could hear his footsteps on the wooden steps and a shadow cast over her as he paused in front of her.  She could smell him:  sandalwood? Or was it cedarwood? Whatever it was, it smelt expensive.   

“I’m……,” the man stuttered nervously.   

“I know who you are, Mr Hanssen. What took you so long?" 

His eyes widened at her boldness and at her perceived knowledge of his situation;  but, it was a straight question and it deserved an equally straight answer.  "I've been foolish,” he conceded, “and a little stubborn." 

"A little?" she said, raising her eyebrows and jabbing her walking stick in his direction. "She's been waiting for you," she said accusingly. 

"Has she?" He felt his confidence boosted that perhaps his arrival would be welcomed after all.  Ever since booking the flight yesterday he’d had bouts of self-doubt about whether he was doing the right thing and indeed, whether he would be a welcome guest.  

"She has, but she would never admit it.” Doreen answered.   “She's not happy here, she hasn't been since the day she arrived.”  Doreen thought back to the day Roxanna had arrived on the island at her request.   That same day Roxanna had insisted that she and her husband James  move out of their run down home in the country and move into the house that Roxanna and David owned.  Roxanna had said it was nearer town and that it would be more convenient for hospital appointments but Doreen knew deep down that Roxanna had been horrified at the conditions they were living in.  Doreen had tried her best but in the end, old age, blindness and a dying husband had defeated her and the only person she could bring herself to ask for help was from her estranged daughter -in-law.   

“It's good you came.  She's a good girl, she deserves to be happy. Now come closer, I'm almost blind you know. I want to see what you look like." 

"Oh right, yes of course." He said as he knelt down in front of her so he was at her eye level. 

"You're old." She said bluntly, her watery grey eyes holding his. 

Henrik let out a small laugh, "I'm not a young man, I'll give you that," he conceded.  

"You're not as handsome as my son," 

"No, I'm not," Henrik agreed, thinking of a young David with his athletic physique and good looks that had swept Roxanna off her feet all those years ago.  

"You won't replace him, you know."

"No, I won't. That's not my intention, it's never been my intention…."

“You might as well sit down,” Doreen instructed as she gestured to the chair beside her.  "Roxanna’s not here. She's at the hospital, she doesn’t finish until late." 

"I did wonder if she would be working.” 

“She’s always working…..” Doreen sighed.  “Whilst you’re here you might as well make yourself useful.  Help yourself to a Coca Cola from the fridge and get me one too.” 

****

Later that night Roxanna’s car pulled up outside the house.  Concerned at seeing Doreen still sitting out on the veranda she ran up the stairs two at a time, her work bag clutched under her arm, “why are you still out here? Where’s Louisa? You should be in bed!”

“Oh stop fussing Roxanna, I’m not a child,” Doreen replied, her hand brushing her daughter-in-law’s concerns away.  “I sent Louisa home.”

“Why?” Roxanna frowned.

Doreen folded her arms across her ample chest, “Don’t you go worrying yourself, I’ve been perfectly well looked after, impeccably so, in fact.”

“By whom?” 

“Go see for yourself,” Doreen gestured to the house. “In the kitchen.”

Roxanna just stared at her, her hands on her hips before disappearing into the house.  She dropped her bag down on the floor in the hallway and headed directly for the kitchen.  

 “It’s you!” she gasped, wide eyed, the sight of him causing her to stall in her tracks in the doorway.   

Henrik had been washing the dishes at the sink, but on hearing her footsteps had removed his hands from the soapy water and was drying his hands when she appeared.   “It is,” he replied hesitantly.  

“You’re in my kitchen!” She said, gobsmacked.

“Yes, I was just clearing the dishes away,” he replied as if it was the most natural thing in the world.  

“I can see that,” she exclaimed.  “What are you doing here?” 

Placing the tea towel down on the table, he took a step towards her but, before he could say anything more a voice came from the hallway beyond them.

“I’m going to bed Roxanna." It was Doreen shuffling along in her slipper feet, “I need your help to undress,”

Roxanna's eyes flitted to Henrik. “I’m coming," she shouted back in response to the older woman.   

“Kiss him first!” came the reply.  

“What….” Roxanna faltered, her eyes widening at her mother-in-law's suggestion. 

“I said, kiss him first!.  The man has travelled a long way for you girl, the least you can do is kiss him.” 

Roxanna shook her head disapprovingly and disappeared down the hall.  

****

She returned to the kitchen half an hour later to find Henrik sitting at the kitchen table, a bottle of wine and two glasses on the table before him. He stood up as she appeared in the doorway, "is Doreen okay?" 

"Yes, she's fine." Roxanna replied abruptly.    

"I made supper if you're hungry?" Henrik asked as he slipped on an oven glove and removed a dish of mac ‘n’ cheese from the oven and placed it on the table next to a bowl of crisp green salad.

"Not really,” she replied curtly, “I’m still trying to work out why you are here, cooking in my kitchen? Weren’t you the one who said, less than two months ago, that I should forget about you? That we caused each other too much pain?”

He slid his hand into his trouser pocket and when he took it out again he was holding a wrist watch.  “I wanted to return this; ” it was the watch she had left at his house the morning after they had spent the night together.  

She took the watch from him and held it in her hand, examining it and feeling its weight.  “It's a long way to come to return a watch.  You could have just posted it.” 

“I could have…..” he agreed.  Despite having spent the last twenty-four hours rehearsing this moment he found himself tongue tied.  

She waited for him to say something more and when nothing came she said, “I'm sorry Henrik, but you’re gonna have to give me a bit more than that?”

He nodded his head in agreement, in no doubt that he was falling short of expectation.  “I made a mistake,” he finally admitted. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away but you hurt me when you left Holby two years ago and I didn't want to go through all that again. I thought pushing you away would be easier but a good friend pointed out to me that I couldn't spend my life running away from the one thing that could bring me the greatest happiness.”  

“You’ve hurt me too, Henrik,” 

“I know….” he admitted, “....and I’m sorry.”  

She bit her lip, knowing that if she didn’t it would start to quiver.  "I don't want us to continue hurting each other, Henrik.  You were right, there’s already been too much pain.”   

“I have no intention of ever hurting you ever again Roxanna.”

He took a step closer and reached out his hand to her and to his relief she took hold of it. “The thing is Roxanna, I can’t let you go.  You’re are always in my thoughts; loving you is what I do, it's who I am.” His voice broke with the weight of emotion welling up inside him but he went on,  “I am just Henrik Hanssen who loves Roxanna Macmillan and I always will." 

"Oh Henrik, I've missed you" she sobbed as she unexpectedly flung her arms around his neck. With overwhelming relief he engulfed her in his own arms, so tight that she could barely breathe.  

“I love you so very much,” he said, pressing kisses to the top of her head. 

“I love you too,” she whispered into his shirt. She could hear his heart beating fast against the wall of his chest and they paused for a moment to savour the feeling of being close to one another again.  Eventually she looked up at him, her eyes glinting with tears, “as you've come all this way, I should probably kiss you?"  She asked, her face radiating happiness.  

"That would be more than welcome," he smiled back. 

So she reached up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his briefly, taking in the scent and softness of skin, before capturing them fully and then settling into him for something long and lingering.  

The next morning …

It was early but they were both awake, albeit still in bed, luxuriating in one another's arms,  as the morning sun shone through the partly open window and the curtains wafted gently in the breeze.  Early morning love making had already taken place and they were now quietly spooning, the smell of sex still permeating the room, their naked bodies covered casually by a single cotton sheet; Caribbean weather calling for nothing more.  

"Can I ask you something?" Roxanna asked as she ran her fingers up and down Henrik's arm which was draped across her waste. 

"Yes," he replied, gently nuzzling his face into her neck and peppering it with kisses. 

"This good friend of yours who helped you change your mind , was it Carole Copeland?" 

She felt his body tense up and he seemed hesitant to answer, “er...yes, it was Carole.”

“Were you in a relationship with her?” She ventured, knowing full well she may be opening up a can of worms, but ever since she had seen them together that day in Pulses, she'd found it difficult to suppress her curiosity.  “Did you sleep with her?” She grimaced to herself knowing that the last question had been completely unnecessary but she just couldn’t help herself and now, feeling his body tense up against her, she knew she had been right to be curious.  

As expected, Henrik expressed his distaste at her questioning,  "Roxanna!”  he sighed frustrated. 

"I’m sorry!" She exclaimed, letting go of him and pulling the sheet over her head and turning away from him in embarrassment. "I'm being too intrusive, please just ignore me.  You don’t need to answer either of those questions.”   

He rolled onto his back and folded his arms behind his head and thought of Carole.  It had been barely forty eight hours since their time in the hotel and oh how much his life had changed in such a short time.  Carole was the reason he was here, laying in bed with the love of his life.  Carole was the one who had made him see sense and he would be forever grateful to her.  She was a true friend.  

He pulled the sheet away from Roxanna’s face,  and gently moved her so she was facing him.  She went with the movement and buried her face into his hairy chest, still ashamed to look him in the eye.  "Come on," he urged, pressing a kiss to her forehead in a gesture to show there was no ill feeling between them.  "Listen, Carole has been a good friend to me over the past year or so and we have spent a lot of time together.  We were both single and we enjoyed each other’s company but as I've already said, you were never far from my thoughts. Carole could see that and she even pointed it out to me.  For the record, we never slept together but we did kiss on one occasion.  Does that satisfy your curiosity?" 

"Yes" came a muffled response, "I'm so sorry I asked, I wasn't jealous, just curious that's all!" 

"Mmm," he murmured, smiling to himself, and kissing her hair. "Now…what I'd much rather talk about is us."  

She looked up at him and scooted her body up the bed so she was level with his face and pressed her lips to his.  She'd kissed those lips so many times in the last twelve hours that it now felt second nature, yet still so tantalisingly new. "I didn't get a chance to ask you last night...we were too busy reacquainting ourselves with one another ...," she smiled coyly, suggestively rubbing her foot up and down his long legs below the covers, "...how long are you in Trinidad for?" 

"I've taken two weeks' annual leave from the hospital." 

She responded with a nod of her head and then after a short pause she said solemnly, "You know I can't come back to Holby permanently don't you? I need to stay here. Doreen needs me."

"Yes, I do know that." He replied, studying her face whilst running his fingers through her blonde hair. 

"So...a long distance relationship. How are we going to make that work?" She asked glumly, visions of long haul flights, living out of suitcases, stupid-hour phone calls and endless airport goodbyes spinning around in her head. 

"It doesn't have to be that way," he said, tracing the contours of her face with the back of his hand. 

"Oh?" 

"No," he mused. "I have had some thoughts...only thoughts...so it's okay if you don't agree." 

"Go on….?" She urged, eager to hear what he had to say. 

"I wondered if I could look for work here on the island. It wouldn't necessarily have to be paid work, I have money, that's not an issue. Perhaps charity work? Delivering training? I don't know?  it's just an idea?" 

"You mean you would leave Holby for good?"

"Perhaps, or I could take a sabbatical initially, see how things go. Any thoughts?"

"If it means I get to see more of you then yes!" She grinned excitedly. 

"I would find my own apartment of course, I wouldn't expect you to put me up." 

"I wouldn't mind, but it's up to you….I know you like your own space." 

"You have Doreen to consider, I wouldn't want to intrude."

"By the looks of it you've already made a good impression on her. But it's up to you.” 

“We don't have to work it all out now, we can give it some thought. Never mind about all that anyway, let's just get back to making the most of the time we have now," he suggested as he took her in his arms, and peppered her face with small kisses. 

"Mmm," she groaned in delight as he traced the curve of neck with his tongue, his hand cupping her breast beneath the sheets. "I don't mind where you live," she gasped, "as long as we can do this as often as possible." 

"Fine by me," he replied breathlessly, his thumb flicking the bud of her nipple causing her back to arch and her hips to grind against him. "You're beautiful," he said as his lips grazed hers before his head disappeared beneath the sheets, his mouth intent on exploring every inch of her. As she writhed and giggled in his arms he knew he had found his happiness and he also knew that he was going to enjoy every single moment of her. 

*****

Back in Holby City…  

"Sacha!" Dom called out to his friend whom he had spotted getting out of his car in the hospital car park. Sacha looked up from locking his vehicle and made his way over to Dom. 

"Should you be here?" The younger man asked as they both strode towards the entrance. "I thought you were still on compassionate leave?" 

"Serena called. Apparently Henrik has taken last minute annual leave. Serena's covering the CEO role but there's electives booked in for Henrik's patients. She doesn't want to cancel them, so she asked me." 

"Oh," Dom said, screwing up his face. "Are you okay with this?"

"Yeah," Sacha smiled warmly, "I was going stir crazy at home so I might as well be useful." 

Dom gave an understanding nod. "So where's Hanssen gone to? It's not like him to be spontaneous?" 

"Don't know," Sacha replied, shaking his head.  "According to Serena he didn't say, he just authorised his own annual leave and called her up late last night asking her to cover." 

"Sweden maybe? Perhaps he's gone to see Oskar?" 

"Yes probably," Sacha agreed. 

As they approached the hospital entrance both men were stopped in their tracks by the sound of loud music coming from one of the nearby parked cars. "What's that?" Dom asked, looking around him for the origin of the noise.  

"Don't know," Sacha frowned, "sounds a bit like ABBA, don't you think?" 

"ABBA?" Dom said quizzically as both men scanned the cars in front of them.  

"Oh Dom…" Sacha sighed, the tone of his voice suggesting impending doom. 

"What?" Dom asked fearfully. 

"Look," Sacha said, pointing to the red vehicle, its doors throbbing from the vibration of the music, "Is that Carole's car?" 

"Oh God," Dom groaned as he jogged towards the vehicle, Sacha closely following. "Carole!" He shouted as he approached the vehicle, a view of Carole hunched over the steering wheel now coming into view.  Trying the passenger door and finding it was locked he banged on the window. "Carole! Carole!" He continued but the music drowned him out.

One of us is crying, one of us is lying

In a lonely bed

Staring at the ceiling

Wishing she was somewhere else instead

"Is she all right?" Sacha asked. 

"Open the door! Turn the music down!" Dom shouted as he banged on the window until a crumpled and agonisingly tear stained face looked up at him through the window. 

"Thank God," Sacha sighed to himself.   

"Open the door, mum," Dom demanded as he stepped back from the vehicle to allow his mother to do as she was told, the music screeching out into the car park even louder as the door opened, grabbing the attention of even more passers by.  

"For God's sake mother, turn that bloody music off," he directed as he lent across her fragile frame and flicked the dial on the sound system. 

"Oh Dominic," Carole moaned, tears streaming down her face. 

"Oh mum," he sighed, half sympathetic, half annoyed with her. 

"Sorry Dom but I'll have to leave you to it, I need to get into the theatre," Sacha said 

"Great," Dom sighed, "leave me on my own with this to sort out, why don't you?" 

"Sorry!" Sacha replied and legged it away from the scene. 

"Come on, get out mum," he directed, taking hold of Carole's arm and helping her out of the vehicle "What's going on?" He demanded. 

"I love him Dom," she cried, "I love him and he's gone." 

"Who?" Dom asked, confused even further. 

"Henrik, of course! Who else! I had him and then I let him go!" 

"Oh mum, come on.  Let's go for a coffee and you tell me all about it….." 

****

One of us is crying, one of us is lying

In a lonely bed

Staring at the ceiling

Wishing she was somewhere else instead

One of us is lonely, one of us is only

Waiting for a call

Sorry for herself, feeling stupid, feeling small

Wishing she had never left at all

Never left at all

*****

THE END

Chapter Text

Alternative ending!!! 

The next morning Henrik lay in bed, the Egyptian cotton sheets pulled firmly over his head. Breakfast was probably being served but he couldn't face it. Not only did he have the hangover from hell but he couldn't face Carole either. What a mess this whole thing had turned into. That poor woman, exposing herself to him like that, only to be rebuffed in such a cowardly and childish manner. He was ashamed of himself. He let out an all mighty groan and flung back the covers revealing his naked dehydrated body.  It was time to put things right. 

****

"I'm sorry sir but Mrs Copeland checked out about half an hour ago." 

"Are you sure?" Henrik asked, frowning and checking his watch. "Room 106?" 

The receptionist checked the computer screen again, "yes sir, room 106." 

"I see," he replied disconcertedly and aimlessly looking round the lobby for her.

Noting his anxiety the receptionist  added, "if it helps sir, she asked for a copy of the local bus timetable. 

"The bus!" He exclaimed. "But we're in the middle of nowhere. Surely the buses don't run on a Sunday, do they?"

"They do, sir, but as I said to Mrs Copeland, they operate a limited service and there's only two buses a day into the City on a Sunday. She'd have been lucky to catch the first one. I offered to call a taxi but she said she preferred to catch the bus.." 

Henrik let out a deep sigh. Could this day get any worse! "I see, well can you give me directions to the bus stop please?" 

"Of course sir. Oh and she also left this for you," the receptionist bent down and retrieved Mr Ted from behind the desk and handed him over.  

**** 

It took Henrik longer to find the bus stop than the receptionist had described but he could see it now in the distance as his car hurtled along the country lane.  Sure enough Carole was there in her pink anorak, sheltering from the drizzle in a rudimentary bus shelter, her suitcase at her feet. The bus stop was at least a mile from the hotel, not including the driveway up to the hotel, so god only knows how she'd managed to drag the case along the grass verge. He pulled the car up in a muddy puddle just in front of the bus shelter and wound down the passenger window. 

"Carole…" he shouted through the window. 

She had seen the car coming in the distance and had deliberately looked away in the opposite direction when the car pulled up. 

"Carole, get in the car," he sighed.  

She continued to ignore him so he got out of the car and walked around the vehicle until he was standing directly in front of her. "I'm sorry," he said with intent,  and when she gave him a tentative glance he could see she was on the verge of tears. "We need to talk. Please will you get in the car?" 

She gave it a moment's consideration and then,  reluctantly, she nodded her head and he picked up her suitcase and placed it in the boot of the car whilst she climbed in the passenger seat. 

He climbed into the driver's seat and within seconds she was in floods of tears. "I've made a complete and utter fool of myself haven't I?" She sobbed, covering her face with her hands. 

"No Carole," he said forcefully.  He turned in his seat to look at her, "If anyone has made a fool of themselves it's me. I am completely to blame for all of this, not you.”

"Oh you don't have to say that. I know what you're really thinking: silly old Carole Copeland, mutton dressed as lamb!" 

"Carole, don't talk like that," he said, shaking his head, ashamed that he should be the cause of her thinking of herself in such a way.  

"I’m sure you'll have a good laugh about it with everyone at work won’t you?," 

"No!” He responded vehemently.  “No Carole, of course I won't. I'm not like that, you know that . I've hurt you and I'm truly ashamed of that." 

She pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed her eyes before entering into a rambling discourse of self loathing. "Oh don't worry about it. I'm sure you don't even want to know me anymore, I'm an embarrassment and I wouldn't blame you for never wanting to be seen with…." 

"Marry me?" Henrik interjected abruptly causing Carole to stall in her tracks, her mouth agape at his words. She turned her head slowly to look at him, convinced she had heard him wrong. "What….?"

He hadn't planned this, but seeing her so upset had affected him much more than he thought was possible and in that split second it seemed the right thing. Now with more conviction he said, "I'm suggesting we should get married."

"But why?" She replied incredulously. 

"We get on don't we? I like you, I think you like me….? We could make a good team…" 

"No," she interrupted, "sorry Henrik I won't marry you." She shook her head vigorously. 

"But I thought..., " he gulped away his disappointment and turned his attention to the road in front of him and gripped the steering wheel. A silence hung in the air but after a minute he said abruptly,  "I should get you home."

Sensing his disappointment she said, "wait…," and she reached out and rested her hand on his arm. "Let me explain…." 

His rigid arms relaxed a little as he rested back into his seat preparing himself for her rejection. 

"I won't marry you Henrik for two reasons." Taking a deep breath she went on, "firstly, I've been married before and it was sheer hell. It wasn't a life, it was more like a life sentence. The only good thing to come out of it was my Dominic,  the rest of it was a nightmare." 

He turned his head slightly to look at her and he could see she was anxiously wringing her hands. 

"Barry was a bully and a tyrant. I wasn't allowed my own money, he wouldn't let me have a job, he didn't like me having friends and basically expected his tea to be on the table at the same time every day and if it wasn't, well…..that's too painful to talk about." 

She gave herself a moment to compose herself and went on.  "It was so hard to break away from him but now….well I'm so happy. I've got my little house that I love, I've got my job and I'm independent.  I don't need to rely on anyone. I can do as I please and could never go back to being tied down like that ever again." 

"But I'm not Barry. I would never stop you doing anything you wanted to do." He reached out and took her hand. She gave him a gentle smile of acknowledgment but it soon disappeared and she became serious again. 

"The second reason I won't marry you is because of Ms Macmillan. You love her don't you?" 

Henrik let out a deep sigh. It was a question he was half expecting. He removed his glasses for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose, giving himself time to compose his answer. 

"You do, don't you?" She urged. 

Replacing his glasses, he finally responded. "I did love her but...not anymore." He was surprised to find that finally admitting it filled him with a sense of relief.

"You don't have to say that," she rebuffed, "I'm not blind, I could see how Ms Macmillan affected you when she was in Holby." 

With intent, he said, "I'm not saying it for your benefit, it's the truth." He paused for emphasis and then went on.  "I fell in love with Roxanna at college some thirty years ago but I wasn't brave enough to do anything about it and then she met David and that was that. But I still loved her, albeit from afar."  She gave him a reassuring smile, knowing that being this honest would be difficult for him.  The kindness in her face touched him and he went on, "t he  problem was, I had loved Roxanna for such a long time that really, it became a habit. It was so ingrained in who I was, that after a while I didn't even think about it, it was just something I did and I didn't even question it. That was until you came along." He turned to look at her and tenderly he said, "You came into my life when I was most in need and you supported me unreservedly.   I couldn't have cared for Oskar without you."  

"Oh Henrik of course you could have," 

"No I couldn't. I had no experience of caring for a child and no confidence in my ability. If it had been left to me I would have sent Oskar back to Sweden to his mother when she simply was not ready to care for him. It would  have been a total disaster, but it was you who stopped me from making that mistake. It's because of you I now have my family back." 

"I'm sure Roxanna would have done the same if she had been here," she said modestly.  

"Perhaps," he said hopefully, "but perhaps that's the point; she wasn't here was she?" It was a rhetorical question and he didn't wait for a reply.  "Without a thought for my feelings she ran away to the other side of the world. She didn't even have the decency to let me know she was okay. That's not something you do to someone you care about." He sounded disillusioned.   

"She must have had her reasons?" 

"Perhaps, but the thing is, Roxanna has never been mine. As much as I have willed her to be, she has always belonged to David.  Even now, she's with David's family, in the house she shared with David.  My love for Roxanna has always been intangible; it's never been real, and, because I've been too blind, perhaps too unwilling to recognise that, I've wasted the best years of my life on longing for something that was never going to be." 

Carole nodded her head in understanding and hopefully he asked, "So?"

She smiled gently at him, "with respect Henrik, that's still not a good enough reason to want to marry me. I've spent the best years of my life in a loveless marriage and I'm not prepared to spend the rest of my life in another marriage where I'm second best just because your first choice has moved to the other side of the world." 

"No Carole, you're getting me all wrong," he sighed frustrated. "I'm not very good at this, I'm not explaining myself properly. Right, now let me think….  In fact, just wait there," he said as he clambered out the vehicle and made his way round to her side of the vehicle and opened the door. 

"What are you doing?" She asked looking up at him, his hair already wet and plastered to his head as a result of the rain now lashing down. 

"Get out of the car," he instructed. 

"What? In this? We'll be soaked!" 

"It's just for a minute, please," he said taking her by the arm. 

"Oh, all right..." she agreed reluctantly as she climbed out and pulled the hood of her raincoat up over her head for protection, "...but be quick, otherwise we'll catch our deaths. Henrik? What are you doing?" She gasped as she watched him sink down on one knee, his trouser leg thick mud, his lanky frame balancing precariously. Taking her hands in his he said: 

"Spending time with you has made me see things differently. You've made me realise what I've been missing out on for all these years." 

"What's that then?" she asked puzzled.  

"Happiness Carole. You make me feel happy!" His face light up as he smiled at her,  "You give me confidence and you make me believe in myself." 

"Me?" She said incredulously. "You're the most confident person I know!" 

"I'm not really, not deep down. But when I'm with you, well...I don't know what is. All I know is that when I'm with you I truly feel I can be myself. You make me laugh, I feel relaxed when I'm with you and you're the only person on earth who has ever been able to get me to dance." 

She giggled at his words and beamed back at him, her eyes sparkling. 

"Oh Henrik," she sighed bashfully, her whole being bubbling with  joy.  "I don't know what to say." 

"Don't say anything." He raised his voice to be heard over the rain, "Carole, I love you. I Iove you and only you . Will you be my wife?" 

"Oh Henrik," she sighed.

"I know what you said earlier but I'm not Barry. I will be a good husband to you. I'll take care of you, you'll want for nothing." 

"Henrik, please. Get up," she pleaded as she pulled him into a standing position. "I'm sorry Henrik," she said, clutching his forearms. "I've told you, I don't want to marry anyone ." 

"But…"

"Listen, Henrik.  I love you, but, we don't need to marry to be with one another do we?" 

There was a pause as he mulled it over and then eventually said, "I suppose not...." 

"We don't!  No one gets married these days, it's old fashioned.  Anyway we haven't even been on a first date yet have we, so don't you think we'd be jumping the gun a little?" 

"I hadn't really thought of it like that," 

"We couldn't live together permanently. You wouldn't want to live with me. I've seen your place and I could never keep it that tidy, you wouldn't want all my little Knick knacks cluttering up your space and besides, I've already told you how much I like my little home." 

"Mmm, perhaps you're right." 

"I know I am. But it doesn't stop us from spending time with each other, from doing everything else couples do. We can have our days out, meals together, all that." Then almost as an after thought she said, "actually there's something else we haven't really done either...we haven't actually kissed have we?" 

"Well, last night…." 

"Last night was a disaster, and I'd rather we forget all about it if it's all the same to you?" 

He gave her a wry smile and nodded, "fair enough,"

"So…." She teased, "how about we make a start right now on getting to know one another a little more?" 

"I see...well, yes perhaps we could…" but before he could finish she was pressing her lips to his, and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, neither one worrying any longer about the rain that was soaking them to  the skin. 

It was soft, tender,  passionate and awkward all in the same moment and caused both of them to blush.  Feeling giddy they eventually they pulled back from one another, embarrassed, dorky smiles, on both of their faces. 

"How was it?" He asked nervously.

"Hmm," she teased, "I think we could both do with a little more practice, don't you?" 

"I…." 

"If you're free for the rest of the day, we could go back to mine. I'll make you breakfast and afterwards we could try again?" She said coyly.   

"I suppose we could…,"  he smirked. 

"Well you're hungry aren't you, because I know I am?" 

The double entendre was not lost on him and he let out a chuckle, 

"I'm ravenous," he grinned. 

"Good, me too, " she beamed. "I think we will have to get out of these clothes too, we are absolutely soaking." 

"Yes, I agree" he smiled, "It sounds like the perfect plan."

****

As Henrik's head hit the pillow that night, a smile spread across his face as he reflected on the extraordinary events of the day. It had ended much better than he could ever have hoped, even though he had received not one,  but two rejections of marriage. 

Carole was right of course, it would have been rushing into things, and sharing his space with someone else on a full time basis probably wasn't the best idea either. It was much better this way, they could both have the best of both worlds; the fun and the companionship, and at the same time maintain their independence. Who knew what the future would bring, but for now, this was enough.  

"Goodnight Carole," he murmured as he drifted off to sleep, savouring his lover's scent on the floral bedding that he was now wrapped up in, the contented smile still lingering on his lips. 

"Goodnight Henrik," she replied as she snuggled into his back and gently pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. 

A few days later in Holby City…  

"Sacha!" Dom called out to his friend whom he had spotted getting out of his car in the hospital car park. Sacha looked up from locking his vehicle and made his way over to Dom. 

"Should you be here?" The younger man asked as they both strode towards the entrance. "I thought you were still on compassionate leave?" 

Sacha smiled warmly, "I was going stir crazy at home so I might as well be useful." 

Dom gave an understanding nod. "As long as you're okay, just take things slowly." 

"Don't worry about me Dom, I'll be fiii….." 

He was stopped in his tracks by a tableau on the other side of the car park. "Did you see that?" He gasped. 

"Oh no!" Dom despaired, covering his eyes with his hands, " please, please erase that image from my mind right now! Eugh! Make it go away Sacha!" 

An amused smirk formed on Sacha's face, "I'm sorry Dom but this doesn't look like it's going to end any time soon. Wow, they are really going for it!" He chuckled. 

Indeed, Sacha and Dominic were not the only ones marvelling at this unusual sight. Mr Hanssen, esteemed surgeon and CEO, standing next to his Volvo estate, locked in a passionate embrace with none other than Carole Copeland. What had started as a small peck on the lips had now been transformed into a full on snog. 

"Is he...is he patting her bottom?" Sacha asked incredulously. 

"Stop Sacha, stop!" Dom demanded, now turning his back on the scene, his hands still covering his eyes. 

"Oh, it's all right, he's put her down now," Sacha grinned, "they're heading towards the building," he said as he watched the couple stride hand in hand across the car park, both wearing that oblivious, blissful smile only worn by lovers in the first  throws of passion. "Come on," he said, placing a protective hand on his friend's shoulder,  "I'll buy you a coffee to calm your nerves and prepare you for the big meeting later." 

"What meeting?" Dom quizzed. 

"Meeting your new step father of course, it's a big thing!" 

"Eugh," groaned Dom as he followed his friend's lead towards the building. 

**** 

Later that night 

Sacha had spent the whole day mulling the matter over. Should he say anything? Was it his news to share? Would he be meeting his friendly duties if he didn't say anything, would he be betraying another friend if he did? 

Taking a deep breathe he picked up the phone and dialled the number. He glanced at his wrist watch, it was 11pm; 7pm in Trinidad. Roxanna should be home from work now. After a few short rings the line was answered. 

"Roxanna?" 

"Sacha, how are you?" Came the welcoming response from the other side of the world. 

"I'm good Rox, and you?" 

"Yes I'm fine. I'm just putting Doreen to bed actually." 

"If now is not a good time?" 

"No, no it's fine. She's in the shower at the moment anyway." 

"Right...well.. I er...there's something I need to tell you."

"Oh?" she asked curiously.

"Its about Henrik." The sombreness in his voice made her worry. 

"Henrik? Why? What's happened?" She replied with some foreboding, all manner of fears running through her head. Was he hurt or worse? 

"Its...well…" 

His hesitance intensified her fears even more, "is he okay? Sacha, please, just tell me…." 

"Yes...he's fine. In fact...Look Rox, there's no easy way to say this…he's in a relationship….with Carole Copeland." 

There was a silence on the other end of the phone but Sacha could swear he had heard her take in a deep in-take of breathe.

"Rox….are you okay?" He asked gently, more than aware of the angst and disappointment his words would have brought his friend. 

"I er…." His words had knocked the wind out of sails and she had found herself collapsing into a chair behind her.

"It's a lot to take in, I know. It took me by surprise too…" he offered.  

She cut him off.   In fact she hadn't even been listening to him, her head was in a spin, her heart in her mouth. "I'm happy for him," she lied, "it's about time he met someone." Swiftly changing the subject, she said, "Look, I have to go Sacha, Doreen is calling me."

"Rox…" he sighed sympathetically, desperate to make his friend open up to him.  

"Sorry, Sacha, I really have to go. Speak soon," and with that she hung up, a hand clasped to mouth, unable to move, unable to breathe, feeling like she had been hit by a juggernaut. Henrik. Henrik, her love. Her lips trembled, as a vision of his face formed in her mind; the touch of his hand clasping hers, the softness of his lips on her own. Henrik had been her first love, and her last. The tears were already escaping and she could do nothing to stop herself choking on them. 

"Roxanna!" Came an impatient voice from the bathroom,  "Roxanna,  I need a towel!"

Momentarily she had forgotten all about her mother-in-law stranded in the shower, but the calls had brought her back to the moment. "I'm coming," she gasped through the tears, desperately trying to dry her eyes with the sleeve of her blouse as she headed towards the bathroom, every step feeling an effort; like fighting one's way through a thick dark fog. 

"Here you go," she stuttered, as she wrapped a large bath sheet around Doreen's broad shoulders. 

"What's wrong?" Doreen asked, looking up from her seated position in the plastic shower chair that Roxanna had installed to make it safer for Doreen to bathe. 

"Nothing," she gulped, hiding her face from Doreen. 

"Come on girl, I can hear it in your voice. What's happened?" 

"Nothing, nothing, it's just…" Roxanna tried to protest bravely but her emotions had the better of her and she couldn't help but to collapse into tears again.

"It's him isn't it?" Doreen asked directly, "the one you're in love with, Henrik Hanssen?"

"Yes," Roxanna admitted, not even questioning what or how Doreen had known about her feelings for Henrik. Doreen may have been blind but she knew exactly what was going on.  Living with Roxanna these past two years, she had learnt to read her daughter-in-law like a book, and although Roxanna may not have even realised it, her constant talk of Henrik this, Henrik that , had been all Doreen needed to understand what was now going on. 

"Come here my darling," Doreen said gently, a hand shooting out from the towel and reaching for Roxanna. "Come on, come to mama." 

This affection from Doreen was unusual, and if Roxanna hadn't have been in such an emotional state she would have recognised that it represented a significant shift in their relationship from reluctant relative's to something more akin to mother and daughter,  but she was in no fit state to recognise this and instead she sunk to her knees at Doreen's feet and dropped her head into the woman's lap, succumbing to her tears like a baby. The older woman stroked her fat fingers through Roxanna's blonde hair, "there, there my girl. Let it all out, let it out. We'll see you right, don't you worry. Don't you worry bout a thing. You're more than that man, so much more. It will be alright, everything will be alright."  

****

One of us is crying, one of us is lying

In a lonely bed

Staring at the ceiling

Wishing she was somewhere else instead

One of us is lonely, one of us is only

Waiting for a call

Sorry for herself, feeling stupid, feeling small

Wishing she had never left at all

Never left at all

*****

THE END