Buying bacon and eggs when she went shopping had been an impulse. She usually found that eating a full English was way beyond her. This morning however, with a bright and slightly unshaven Al sat at the table, Sarah felt quite proud that she had something more substantial than toast or chocolate Shreddies to offer him. They had stayed up late talking. About nothing, about everything, and Sarah realised that there was so much more to Al than just a guy who did security on the show. He had already told her about his time in the police force, but sat there, sipping red wine together, he talked more about a life that he kept very private. Like many men his age, he had been married with children, two teenaged boys who lived with their mother but sporadically kept in touch. He lived in a house on the outskirts of the city that he had done up from scratch, and was very proud of. He was in the process of doing the same to his sister’s council house; she had moved there after her partner walked out on her and their children.

Sarah could see, when Al talked about his sons, and his nieces and nephew, that he was very much a family man. He was matter of fact about his ex-wife; they had split up when he was in the police force, grown apart and thrown apart by the long hours, and his admitted distraction by the job. He had gone out with other women since the divorce, but nothing serious. Some women were interested in him because of his job, and once he had refused to get them free tickets and an introduction to Oliver, they tended to lose that interest.

Touched by his honesty, Sarah filled in the gaps of her own story. She had told Al some of it when they went out to the pub for dinner, but she had kept things superficial and light, trying not to paint herself as a deserted woman and unable to look after herself.  She had to admit that she hadn’t done too well on the coping stakes the day before, and was still very angry about not checking to see who was pressing the door buzzer. She was also mourning the loss of her laptop and hoping that Marta wouldn’t damage it once she realised that it was password protected. Al’s phone rang whilst he was tucking into the bacon and eggs. Sarah listened intently, hoping that Marta had been found.

Al put his mobile back on the table.

“The good news is that the police have your laptop. Marta left it in a pizza restaurant this morning and they called the police. The bad news is that Marta is still on the loose and harder to track because she no longer has the laptop. Do you keep any spare keys to this flat lying around?”

“No, Tom has his own set, I had mine on me, and Millie’s are hidden in her knicker drawer.”

“Would you go and check please?”

She didn’t feel that happy about rummaging through Millie’s underwear, but the pleasure of finding the keys safely far outweighed any awkwardness.

“All accounted for.” said Sarah as she sat back down.

“Good. Umm, did you have any plans for today, Sarah?”

“Not really. Why?”

“The police don’t think you should stay here alone – in case Marta comes back. I’d stay with you, but I promised my sister that I’d finish off the front room for her today. Is there a friend you could stay with? Or…”

“…Or?”

“If you want to – and only if you want to – you could come with me to my sister’s house, and give me a hand? You’d be very welcome.”

“Al, I have never done any DIY in my life! For the past ten years I have lived in a seventies tribute house. Before that I was in the house I grew up in. My only other experience of life was a dingy rented house that Millie and I shared with two other very unworldly students. Our housekeeping skills have improved since then, and as you can see, I managed to learn how to cook a bit.”

Looking up from his bacon and eggs, Al grinned.  “No complaints here! You won’t need to do anything technical. Talk to my sister Maggie, meet the kids, be in a place where I won’t be worrying about you all day. I’ve almost finished the room, I just need to do a bit of painting, get the curtain rails and curtains up, and move the furniture back in once the paint is dry. You’ll get a Sunday roast out of it.”

Sarah grinned. “You just said the magic word. I take it that I don’t need to dress up today?”

“No, jeans and a shirt like yesterday is fine. Do you mind if we call in at mine so I can get some work clothes on? I’m still in black stealth mode from last night.”

“I’ll feed Buster and get ready, while you finish your breakfast then. Casual it is.”

Walking into Millie’s room to wake the dozing Buster, Sarah felt strangely elated.

“Come on Buster, dinner.”

Sarah spoke with authority and was amazed when Buster got up from the bed, stretched and followed her out to the kitchen. She looked at Al and nodded toward Buster, who seemed to be in the most compliant mood she had ever seen him in. Al did a quick wash and brush up in the bathroom, then phoned his friend in the police to get an update.

“Can we call by the station to drop off a set of keys? They think that they should be finished with your laptop but they need your fingerprints for elimination purposes. Did anyone else use your laptop?”

“Millie and I were both using it before she went away. Her keys would probably have her fingerprints on them. She has a square security fob like I do.”

“Good, if you pop them straight into a bag, we might be able to kill two birds with one stone then.”

Rooting around in the kitchen drawer, Sarah found some plastic bags that Millie must have used for Tom’s packed lunches. Turning the bag inside out, she went back into Millie’s bedroom again and picked up the keys, turning the bag the right way out again and sealing it.

“There you go.”

Sarah handed Al the bag with a flourish. Before they left the flat, Al went out into the corridor just to check that Marta hadn’t returned for more pizza. The coast was clear, and they took the lift down to the car park.

“What shall we do about my car?” asked Sarah as she climbed in beside him.

“We’ll check on it now, and if it’s okay we’ll pick it up again tonight when we come back from my sister’s. As far as I know Marta knows your car but not mine, so there’s less chance of us being followed. Is that alright?”

“Makes perfect sense to me, but thank you for asking me rather than telling me. I appreciate that.”

Al gave her a strange look as he started up the car.

“Can I ask you something Sarah?”

“Well, you know my age already, and probably my height and weight. I have no more secrets. Ask away.”

“Well, I know that I haven’t known you very long, but in that time, you’ve always seemed confident, you’ve stood up to Oliver, dealt with some awkward people on the show – not to mention the Natasha business – you appear to be so in control, but when you talk about the time you spent with Andy, I don’t recognise you as the same person. It’s almost as if you were totally under his control.”

She thought for a moment before answering. “Control is too strong a word really. I was lazy, too idle to get myself out of a stale relationship that wasn’t doing anything for either of us. I was more interested in my work than a home life that required no effort at all. Andy did everything. I admire Andy for having the courage to make the break, but it feels like I’ve been asleep for the past ten years.”

“Welcome to the real world, Sleeping Beauty!”

“I’m enjoying the real world and I don’t want it to stop. If Andy comes back and tells me that he made a terrible mistake, then I’ll be telling him that he hasn’t.  I like the real world.”

Al smiled as he drove into the burger outlet car park. Sarah’s car was safe and still locked up from the night before. Satisfied that all was well, they called in at the police station where Sarah was overjoyed to get her laptop back. They handed over the flat keys, warned them to be on the look-out for Buster, and confirmed that they would call before coming back to the flat later.  

Next stop was Al’s house, and Sarah had to admit to herself that she was deeply curious to see where he lived.  She wasn’t sure why, but she had a feeling that it was very important. They drove through countryside and eventually came to a small cluster of cottages.  Al turned into the driveway of the last and largest of them. It was obviously still a work in progress but looking at the man beside her, Sarah was amazed by the front garden full of unregimented flowers and shrubs, the soft white painted exterior interrupted here and there by original stonework, and the inviting blue gloss front door.

“Al, this is gorgeous! Is this all your own work?”

Al blushed. “Most of it, I’ve called in a few favours from mates in the trade and it isn’t finished yet, but it’s all mine. Let me give you the guided tour.”

He led the way round to the rear of the house where a large tarpaulin covered a pile of bricks and equipment and the rest of the garden was obscured by more shrubs and fruit trees.  The back door opened into the kitchen; a large room with a stone floor and wooden units, black granite worktops and an impressive range cooker. It lacked a few homely touches, but Sarah could see that it was well planned.  Al was smiling at her reaction, and beckoned her through to the living room. Warm red brickwork and wooden beams; a large squashy brown velour sofa and matching armchairs, and bookcases filled with books that had Sarah itching to go and explore.

She turned to him and smiled.

“What a brilliant house Al! You must have worked so hard!”

He nodded. “Three bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs, I’ve extended up and down, and put a toilet and shower room down here.  I’ve decorated the upstairs bathroom and two of the bedrooms, but I’ve one still to do.  Have a poke around whilst I get changed. I won’t be long.”

The books were as interesting as Sarah had hoped they would be. In addition to the crime, science fiction and DIY books that she had expected to see, there were some well-thumbed classics, poetry and several authors that were old favourites of hers too.  When Al came downstairs, he found her curled up on his sofa, thumbing through one of these and looking for all the world as if she belonged there. She peered over the top of her glasses as he came down the narrow wooden stairs, wearing old jeans and a paint spattered sweat shirt. 

“Hey Al, you are a man of many surprises!”

“Good surprises I hope?”

He was blushing again.

“Oh yes. Does your sister know that I’m coming over?”

“Yes, I phoned her earlier on. She knows all about what’s happened, and she’ll be very pleased to lay an extra place at the table. You ready to go?”

She was, but it was quite a wrench to leave the comfort of the sofa and book. Having decided that she wanted the cool, minimalist style of Millie’s flat, Sarah was now feeling far more attached to this rustic cottage that had been so lovingly restored.

It wasn’t far to Maggie’s house. She lived on the edge of an estate in Sarah’s own home town. Other houses in her street were less well kempt; had front gardens cluttered with car tyres, collapsed trampolines, and bicycle frames. Maggie’s garden was neat and tidy, the paintwork on her window frames was fresh and her front door was the same glossy blue as Al’s. As soon as he switched off the engine, a small boy, followed by three older girls, came out of the front door like bullets.

“Uncle Al, Uncle Al!” the boy shouted as he threw himself into Al’s waiting arms, the girls hung back a little, shy because of Sarah’s presence. Then Maggie came out through the front door and took hold of Sarah’s hand.

“Lovely to meet you Sarah, and thank you for joining us. I could tell that Al was torn between helping you, and helping me when he called last night. Come on in.”

“Last night?”

Sarah grinned at Al’s blush as she followed Maggie indoors. The hallway was crowded with furniture that had been moved out of the front room but the kitchen was warm, welcoming and smelled of roast lamb. Whilst Al got on with the painting, ‘helped’ by Maggie’s son, the girls went back to their drawing, and Maggie made coffee.

“Place is a bit of a mess I’m afraid.” said Maggie.

“It’s comfortable, you are obviously in the middle of decorating, and I don’t work for social services anymore, so you have nothing to fear from me.  Any fool can see how happy your kids are.”

“Thank you, it’s not how my ex – Bob – sees things. He’s constantly causing trouble for us. I’ve tried not to be angry with him in front of the kids, but he turns up when he feels like it and demands to take the kids out. He brings them back high on sugar and fizzy drinks, and then complains because they are out of control. His ultimate threat is that he’ll report me for being a bad mother and get custody of the kids.”

“How old are they?”

“The twins, Meg and Amy are eleven, Julie is nine and Alex is five. We split up due to Bob having affairs with anyone who’d have him. We had to move here when he stopped paying the mortgage on the house six months ago.  He didn’t care that the kids were uprooted from their home and school. We were lucky to get this council house; I was a bit reluctant because of the state it was in but Al said he would sort it out – and he has – almost.”

Sarah drank her coffee. It was very good.

“If your ex calls in social services, call me. Even though I don’t work for the local authority I’m still a registered social worker and my word counts for something – especially around here.  I spent twelve years working in this area with children and families.”

The quick hug Maggie gave Sarah was unexpected but very welcome. She got on with making the dinner, and they talked companionably whilst Maggie whipped up batter to make Yorkshire puddings, and Sarah peeled potatoes at the sink. It was one of the best Sunday lunches Sarah had ever eaten. The children were noisy but contained, and Maggie was wise enough to let them get down from the table once they’d had enough to eat, leaving the adults to converse, and in Al and Maggie’s case, bicker mildly with each other. Once the curtains were hung, Maggie and Sarah helped Al to put all the furniture back and make the room come alive again. After a few exhortations to keep away from the walls, the children were allowed back in and all voiced their approval of Uncle Al’s handiwork.

“I have to get Sarah back to her car now, and check up on whether they’ve found the mad woman yet,” said Al, looking at his watch.

“Won’t the police call you?” asked Maggie, obviously reluctant to see them go.

“Not necessarily. You have to chivvy them along a bit. See you later Sis.”

Maggie walked out to the car with them and gave her brother the biggest hug. Then she turned to Sarah and hugged her too.

“Is that okay?” she whispered. “Al hasn’t brought a friend back here before. You are his friend, aren’t you?”

“Oh yes.” said Sarah. “He has this habit of being nearby whenever I need him – like a guardian angel.”

“Our Al! Angelic! I won’t disillusion you. He does have a heart of the purest gold though.”

Sarah was very quiet as they drove back to Al’s cottage so that he could change into clean clothes. As they pulled up outside, she turned to him with a wicked smile.

“When did you phone your sister Al?”

“Ah. Yeah, I phoned her last night. I had a feeling that Marta would still be on the loose and I couldn’t bear the thought of her getting back in the flat when you were on your own. I hope I haven’t – you know?”

“I’ve had a much better day than I could have hoped for. If we find out that Marta has been found and is safely locked up, that will be the cherry on my cake.”

“Okay, I’ll get changed and give my mate a call.”

Curled up on the sofa, nose deep in another book, Sarah didn’t really want to go anywhere, least of all back to the flat. She brought sensible Sarah back to the fore, and acknowledged that she couldn’t go to work like this, that she needed her car for work, and that she wanted to make sure that her laptop was okay. She heard Al’s mobile go off again whilst she was reading, but didn’t think much to it.

When Al came down, dressed in stealth black again and carrying a small bag, Sarah frowned.

“Not good news Al?”

“No,” he shook his head. “They’re still looking for her. You can go back but only if I stay with you. It seems that Marta is more dangerous and calculating than we gave her credit for. She has quite a record for stalking, making threats and burglary in Holland. Can you put up with me for another night?”

“Okay, but it’s back to toast or cereals for breakfast tomorrow.”

Al held out a hand and helped her up from the sofa. She thought for one rather lovely moment that he was going to take her in his arms and kiss her, but he didn’t, and she was reluctant to force anything. This slow-burning relationship was rather wonderful and totally unlike anything she had ever experienced before.