14

"Do you remember the long holiday Jamie and I took to Jamaica, about eight years ago?" Adrian asked Cynthia finally.

"Yes. Why?"

"We weren't really in Jamaica," said Adrian. "I was in the hospital. Jamie was at work, like normal."

"Why did you lie?" Cynthia demanded.

"Jamie made me... To keep up appearances." Adrian added bitterly.

He lifted his shirt, revealing a long, puckered scar running for several inches across his abdomen.

"One night, Jamie came home from the pub, drunker than he usually was. He'd hit me before, but never like... I'd been preoccupied with my new job that day, and I'd forgotten to put dinner on. By the time I remembered, he was on his way home. It wasn't ready when he came in, waiting for him, so he took put a knife in me... I lost a kidney and part of my bowel. Jamie told the hospital I was attacked, but he refused to let them call the police. While I was in the hospital, Jamie wrote to my new boss, pretending to be me, and quit. When I finally left the hospital and showed up for work, after the doctors had cleared me to work, they'd already given my job to someone else."

Marafioti opened his mouth angrily, before taking a hold of himself and keeping quiet.

Adrian saw the detective's anger and gave him a wan smile.

"After that, the beatings were more regular. And worse. I started needing to wear make-up out of the house to cover the bruises." Adrian rubbed his ear distractedly. "About six months after I left the hospital, Jamie mentioned to his sister that he wasn't too happy."

Marafioti snorted contemptuously.

"Olivia suggested we adopt a baby. She said her marriage was a little rocky before she had her son, and then everything settled down. Jamie became convinced we needed a child, and before I knew what was happening, we were at a local adoption agency.

"After a while, Jamie decided on surrogacy, instead of adoption. He wanted a child of his own, not 'some crack-head whore's love-child', to quote his exact words." Adrian sighed. "I went with him, the day he went to give his sample to be inseminated in our surrogate. I asked to give a sample while he was in his room. He went to the bathroom before he handed in his sample, and I changed his sample for mine before he handed it to the nurses. I... I had a feeling that a baby wouldn't help our situation. It would probably make things worse, if we were both sleep deprived. Obviously, I didn't have a choice in the matter. We were having a baby, whether I wanted one or not."

Adrian glanced at his mother, and saw her face had softened considerably since she'd arrived.

"I knew that if things got worse, I'd need legal weight to take the baby away from him. If she was biologically mine, he wouldn't be able to do anything."

Adrian fell silent for a while.

"From the moment she was born, I loved her more than anything I ever had before. She had my eyes. I don't know how Jamie didn't notice she was mine, but she was. That's what mattered. Jamie named her Lily, after his dead grandmother. Everything was fine for a week or so, until Jamie realised babies don't sleep through the night just because you shout at them. I took over all of her night care, going to her before she could wake him up. I didn't want him to hurt her."

"Why did you decide to leave then?" Cynthia asked. "Why didn't you come to me for help?"

Adrian sighed.

"I decided to leave one morning, after a really bad beating. I'd been unconscious in the hallway for about six hours. In that time, Jamie hadn't fed or changed Lily at all, or even picked her up, that I could tell. I could barely lift her; he'd kicked my back so hard. Do you remember my friend Ethan, who owned the funeral parlour?"

Cynthia nodded.

"Well, I went to him for help. He agreed to help me stage mine and Lily's deaths. The week before I left, I sold my car to a garage. Ethan bought it the next day. Then I went down to the old mining road, beside the reservoir, and crashed the car into a tree by the side of the road. I set fire to the car, just in case anyone started asking questions, and walked a couple of miles back to a bus stop. I picked up Rachel from Ethan's place, went to the bank, took out as much money as they'd let me, and left. I left the county, and went to an apartment in Surrey where I'd put down a deposit the week before. I spent a few days looking for work in the town, before I was hired as a chef in a take-away restaurant."

Adrian sighed heavily.

"Ethan was called by the police the next day, saying they'd found his car, crashed beside the reservoir. He told them he'd crashed it the day before, gone home by bus in a daze and when he'd recovered, he'd arranged for it to be towed, which it was, later that morning. The police didn't dig any deeper. Ethan called Jamie three days later and told him Lily and I had been involved in an accident. He said the police had brought two unidentified crash victims into his parlour to be prepared for burial while they worked on finding out who they were. I'd given Ethan my wedding ring, and my crucifix necklace before I left. Jamie went down to the parlour and Ethan showed them to him. He didn't let Jamie see inside the coffins; he told him we were burnt beyond recognition, and Jamie wouldn't want to see us like that. The coffins were buried, and we'd gotten away with it. I changed our names the day after we arrived," Adrian said simply. "It took a few years, but when Rachel was four, I'd finally managed to save enough, after being promoted at work, to move here. It was Rachel who pushed me to open my own restaurant, so we got a loan from the bank, leased the premises, and got to work."

"You own a restaurant?" Cynthia asked, looking impressed.

Adrian nodded.

"The Dinner Table. Rachel named it," he said, with an embarrassed roll of his eyes.

Cynthia sat quietly for a moment, her eyes troubled, before she looked up at Adrian.

"Why did you never tell me about any of this?"

"You loved Jamie. I tried, once, to tell you. All you could talk about that day was the fact that Jamie and I had decided to adopt. I tried telling you I didn't want to bring a baby into that environment, but..." Adrian shrugged. "When I left, I knew that if I stayed in contact with you, firstly, you might tell Jamie. Secondly, I knew I'd want to come and visit you if I talked to you. I couldn't risk coming back to see you, and having Jamie see me. I needed to stay far away."

Cynthia sat for a moment, before she shrugged.

"I still wish you'd told me... I would have tried to help."

"I know, mum. But... for once, I wanted to do something for myself."

Adrian went over to sit beside her, and took her hand.

"I know you're mad at me for doing what I did... but after Dom finds Rachel, maybe we could... work on things. I'd like for Rachel to know her grandmother."

Cynthia finally smiled.

"I'd like that."

She stood up and went to the dresser, surveying the photos on the shelves. She picked up one of the smaller frames, a photo of Adrian and Rachel at the park. Rachel was sat upon his shoulders, an ice cream cone in her hand. A drip of vanilla had leaked down Adrian's cheek, and his eyes were rolled up to look at her, a look of cheerful patience on his face.

"Can I take this one?" She asked.

Adrian hesitated.

"I moved a year ago. I'm only a few miles away now. Jamie's still in Yorkshire, as far as I'm aware."

Adrian nodded.

"I've got a copy. That's my favourite photograph of us."

Cynthia looked at him for a moment longer, before she came over to embrace him.

"I should go," she said quietly. "I'll... keep my distance, until Rachel's found. I know you're preoccupied with her at the moment. Then we can try to work this out."

Adrian nodded, and showed her out.

When he came back into the living room, Marafioti was still stood beside the dresser, his eyes gazing blankly at the floor.

Adrian gazed at him for a moment, struck again how handsome the detective was, even with a frown furrowing his brow.

Adrian went over and gently touched Dom's hand.

Marafioti jumped violently, and looked up at Adrian. His eyes were troubled.

"It's alright, Dom," Adrian said quietly. "It all happened a long time ago."

Dom shook his head slowly. His hand reached out and gently stroked Adrian's side, where the long scar marred his skin.

"I don't..." Dom struggled to find words.

"You don't have to say anything," Adrian whispered. "I know it's hard. I know it's a shock..."

Adrian rested his forehead against Dom's broad chest, breathing in his fresh, masculine scent.

The emotions his story had brought to the surface, which he'd been fighting so hard to keep in check, overwhelmed him as Dom's strong arms wrapped around his torso.

Adrian realised it had been years since anyone had held him, in any way.

He felt tears well up in his eyes, and let them flow, finally. He buried his face in Dom's neck and wept. He wept for Rachel, for the first pitiful weeks of her life; and for himself, for all the emotional scars Jamie had left him bearing, for his lonely existence.

Dom, feeling Adrian's body shaking in his arms, tightened his grip on the smaller man, gently stroking his hands up and down Adrian's back. He cupped the back of Adrian's head and pressed the weeping man deeper into his own shoulder.

"It's alright," he murmured softly, although his own insides were writhing nauseously.

How someone could treat another human being in such a way was beyond him.

He buried his face in Adrian's luscious dark hair, automatically taking in the smaller man's scent. His hair smelt of coconut.

Unable to stop himself, Dom raised Adrian's head from his shoulder and kissed him.

Adrian froze beneath him, utterly stunned, before something in Dom's warm lips startled him back to life, and he began to respond.

After a moment's kissing, Adrian pulled back, aware his face was shining with tears. He quickly wiped his face, and gave Dom a small smile.

"Sorry," he whispered. "It's... been a while."

Dom smiled at him.

"It's alright." Dom stroked Adrian's fringe gently.

Adrian smiled suddenly.

"This has been a really crappy week."

Dom embraced Adrian again.

"I know how to cheer you up."

"Oh?" Adrian looked sceptical.

Dom nodded.

"How are you going to do that?"

"I could... tell you my real name," Dom said.

"What? Dominic?"

Dom shook his head.

"Dom...ingo? Dom...enique?"

Dom raised his eyebrows.

"Well, aren't you part Spanish, or something?"

"Half Italian. And it's Domino."

"Domino?" Adrian snorted. "Domino Marafioti?"

He roared with laughter.

"I had a friend as a kid, who had a dog called Domino."

Dom stuck his tongue out at Adrian.

"When I was born, I had one freckle on one ear, and two on my left. My dad said it reminded him of a domino piece."

"Well, that explains the earrings," Adrian said, flicking Dom's hooped earring gently.

Dom shot him a mock-glare, before he smiled.

"Listen... Since you're a chef, won't bother trying to impress you with my below-average cooking skills. But do you think it would be alright if I took you to dinner sometime?"

Adrian blinked in surprise.

"Erm... alright. That could be... interesting."

Dom smirked.

"Interesting, how?"

Adrian didn't reply.

"When would you...?"

Dom shrugged.

"I'm getting hungry now," he said hopefully.

Adrian couldn't help but laugh.

"Well... I've not been into work yet today. I need to go in to talk to Tom. It's not exactly a... traditional first date, taking me to work, but..." He shrugged.

"I don't mind going there," Dom said. "But between you and me, I know the owner. And he's a bit of a tosser," he whispered conspiratorially.

Adrian laughed.

"Just for that, your dinner won't be free tonight."

Adrian picked up his car keys.

Dom followed him out to his old car, and got into the passenger seat, forgetting about his own car at the idea of a night alone with Adrian.

Well... almost alone.