It wasn’t a long journey home but the painkillers were effective enough to send Sarah into a fitful sleep.   Reluctant to wake her, Al opened up the house and came back to the car so that he had a clear pathway to carry her through to the living room.  She woke up to find herself on the sofa, lying under a blanket, and with a cushion thoughtfully placed under her head.  She sat up a little too quickly, and cried out as the world started spinning around. Al was only a few steps away in the kitchen and rushed back in.  He knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his.

“Hey, it’s okay Sarah.  You fell asleep on the way home, and I put you on the sofa while I got the rest of the shopping and luggage in. Do you want a drink?  No alcohol though – I’ve just been reading through the list of do’s and don’ts that the nurse gave you.”

Sarah blinked as normality returned, and leaned her forehead against Al’s shoulder. It felt good; solid and reassuring.

“Go on then, what CAN I do?”

“Rest, take your medication, more rest and give yourself time to recover.  On that subject, Jenny is aware of the situation and does not expect either of us in work tomorrow.”

“Oh damn!” muttered Sarah.  “I was so looking forward to strolling in wearing my Phantom of the Opera mask first thing.  I’m not sure I have anything in my wardrobe to match so I might have to pinch some of your basic black after all.”

“Sarah, you are in shock.  It’s okay to feel angry, to cry, or to do anything that makes you feel better. You can give me a punch or two if you want – but avoid the face – we don’t want both of us turning up with visible injuries.  People will talk!”

Unsure for a moment whether to laugh or cry, Sarah chose the former but very gently.

“Al, you are the best possible medicine, and the last person on earth who needs a good punching.”

“I’ve had a bit of an update from my friend on the force.  They called him in eventually.  Natasha had fits of hysterics and Marta started banging her head against the cell wall, and insisting that she was mad but not bad. Natasha’s father was there by then – not Mummy – and gave his daughter an extremely impressive talking to which seemed to shock her into quiet crying.  After witnessing her behaviour last night, I would say that she is definitely a bit unhinged.  A personality disorder maybe, but I’m not an expert.”

“And Marta?”

“They’re arranging for a psychiatric assessment in the morning, but whatever happens, she won’t be bailed.  They are considering a charge of attempted murder; the whole thing was planned, and captured on CCTV as well as me being a witness, and hearing Marta stating that she wanted to kill you.  Natasha’s words are even more damning. Don’t look like that Sarah! Marta has a long history of anti-social behaviour, and Natasha is a product of her arrogant and overbearing mother. You are not responsible for either of those situations, and you did more than most people to help both of them.”

“You should be a social worker Al,” she sighed. “You’d be much better at it than me. Another thing I need to do tomorrow is talk to Jude.  Talking to Millie too would be helpful right now.”

Al stood up and moved away from the sofa; Sarah realised that her words had hit a sore point, and she struggled to her feet, putting her arms around his waist. It took a few moments, but eventually he returned the embrace, and kissed her very gently on the top of her head.

“It’s you I want more than anyone Al; Jude and Millie will talk sense into me, and tell me what an idiot I am, but there’s only one place I want to be, and only one person I want to be with.  I’m sorry that drugs and injury have put a dampener on what could have been a very romantic and wonderful evening, but at least we have some time now to get to know each other better away from all the prying eyes.  Do you still want to get to know me better?”

“Yes,” he said, very quietly.  “It might help me to understand what it is that you see in me.”

“Ditto.  Forget the professional roles, we are just two people who started out enjoying each other’s company, discovered that we were attracted to each other as well, and as an added bonus, you have saved my life – twice now. I can enjoy being myself with you.  I never could with Andy.  He was always trying to mould me into his perfect partner.  Perfect is something that I’ll never be, and I don’t want it, nor expect from those I care about.”

Al kissed the top of her head again and sighed.

“I could very happily stand here with you all night, but that list of instructions says you need some sleep, and I haven’t made up the bed in the spare room yet.”

Sarah moved closer.

“That list Al, I know that I can’t drive, operate heavy machinery, drink alcohol, take unprescribed medication and undertake vigorous exercise but …”

“But?”

“I don’t want to sleep on my own. Is your bed big enough for both of us?  I’d feel safe if I was with you.”

Al took a very deep breath.

“Perhaps I should have a cold shower first?”

“No!  You are so nice and warm.  Can we just go to bed Al? Please?  We don’t have to go to work tomorrow. We can stay in bed all day.  You said that I needed to rest after all.”

“I think we may have different concepts of staying in bed.”

“Only one way to find out,” she giggled.  “Baggsy the right-hand side because I can’t sleep on my poorly cheek.  You don’t want to be making beds at this time of night. It makes so much more sense, doesn’t it?”

“Sarah, I can’t guarantee that I’ll …”

“Sssh.  I don’t want any guarantees about anything, Al.  I just want to be tucked up in bed with you, and if anything happens, it’s because it’s meant to be.”

“I’ll take your bag upstairs then, and show you where everything is; while you’re getting sorted, I’ll lock up down here.  Are you absolutely sure about this Sarah?”

Sarah would have smiled, but it really did hurt too much.

“I’ll tell you when I’ve seen your bedroom.”

Al led the way up the narrow stairs, checking behind to make sure that Sarah was okay.  His bedroom was as Sarah had expected it to be; uncluttered but with soft blue-green curtains and a duvet cover that matched, and closed wardrobe doors.  Although the neatness was vaguely reminiscent of Andy’s order, it was a comfortable room, and one that Sarah felt she could relax in.

“Lacks a woman’s touch.” said Al gruffly.

“Are you giving me permission to leave my clothes on the floor, and clutter up your desk with perfumes and make up?  Did you bring anything like that back from the flat?”

Placing the overnight bag on the bed, Al unzipped it and opened it for Sarah’s perusal.

“The bathroom is just across the hall.  I’ll go and lock up.”

Rummaging through the bag brought tears to Sarah’s eyes. Al had packed her favourite nightshirt and dressing gown; an assortment of perfumes and make-up from her dressing table, her jeans, plaid shirt and some underwear tucked discreetly into a clean bag-for-life that had been folded up in one of the kitchen drawers.  It wasn’t just a thoughtful collection of her belongings, but considering that Al had been in a hurry to get back to her at the hospital and make sure that she was alright, it was miraculous.  Picking up her nightshirt and toothbrush, she went to the bathroom, and found that it too, was to her liking. A soothing shade of pale blue, with an over-bath power shower, and only the one mirror, which she avoided looking into for the time being.  She got changed into her nightshirt, brushed her teeth very gently and gathered up her clothes, trying not to look too closely at the bloodstained blouse.

Al was still downstairs carrying out his security checks, so she emptied out the bag-for-life, and put her dirty washing in it.  She had joked about messing up Al’s bedroom, but unlike her constant desire to disorder Andy’s order, she felt a greater need to respect Al’s space.  That said, she lost no time in climbing into bed and settling herself under the duvet, realising that the dip in the mattress was where Al usually slept.  She moved over in order to give him more room to get in, but within moments of laying her head on the pillows, she was asleep.

Coming back up the stairs, Al looked in through the door and smiled at the sight of Sarah asleep in his bed, her dark hair spread out across the pillows.  He was torn.  She had made it quite clear that she didn’t want to be left alone tonight. He didn’t feel that he could ignore that request, but at the same time, was wrong to share the bed with her in case anything happened between them?  Would it ruin their relationship if Sarah woke up in the morning feeling regretful, feeling that he had taken advantage of her vulnerable state? All this was rolling around in his mind as he brushed his teeth, and got changed into his old tee-shirt and boxer shorts that he usually wore in bed. 

Sarah was still asleep as he climbed very carefully in beside her, and turned out the bedside lamp.  She hadn’t quite left him enough room, and he felt himself teetering on the edge of the mattress as he tried to get comfortable. She solved the problem by waking up slightly, and requesting a hug.  Al took her in his arms and moved over so that they were in the middle of the bed; Sarah curled up on his chest with her arms around him.  It all felt so right, and perfectly respectable, so Al closed his eyes and fell asleep too.

It had been too many years since Al had been woken in the night by someone kissing him and stroking his face.  Slowly he opened one eye and then the other, focussing on Sarah’s slightly twisted smile as she kissed him.  Not just a good morning kiss either, but one that held the promise of so much more. 

“I am totally in possession of all my senses Al.” she said quietly.  “I also have a feeling that you know the difference between vigorous exercise and making love.  The very thought of which gives me butterflies, and I don’t think I have ever felt like this until you kissed me in the meeting room yesterday morning.  I’m sure that if it hadn’t been for my would-be assassins, we would have made love by now. I need you Al.  Can we take things further? If the answer’s ‘No’, it might be me that has to take a cold shower.”

“The answer is yes,” he said, pulling her towards him, kissing her and showing her just how much he needed and wanted her too. “A million times, yes!”

There was no further sign of Daryl by the end of the day; Sarah felt responsible for taking him into the meeting, but at the same time, was aware that trying to cover up Daryl’s involvement would cause even more trouble.  Not happy to leave things as they were, Sarah went looking for Jenny, and eventually tracked her down in one of the pods at the side of the stage.  She looked as if she had been crying.  Sarah sat down next to her and took her hand.

“What’s happened now, Jenny?”

“Oliver.  He’s finding it difficult to accept that he might have been wrong about the guy who died.  We’ve explained that he was given duff information in the first place.  We all know that Natasha is behind this; and we know the lengths that she will go to in order to get her own way. Daryl’s been given the rest of the day off. He hasn’t been sacked – yet, but it was touch and go.  You and I both know that he is a good lad, and means well but if we let him go, it’s highly unlikely that he’ll get another job in media.  He asked if I could pass his mobile number on to you.  He said that you and Millie had been very kind to him after the accident.”

“Would that be alright with you Jenny? He lives alone and I’m not sure that he’s fully recovered from that blow to the head.”

Jenny handed over a piece of paper with Daryl’s details on it; Sarah knew that she had the number on her phone already, but took it anyway. She looked at her watch; almost time to meet up with Al, and her stomach was beginning to do somersaults at the prospect.  All the way down in the lift, she did her best not to grin too broadly in case any of the other occupants thought that she was demented. Al was sat behind the security desk, checking people out, and didn’t see her at first.  He looked up from the screen, and Sarah saw a smile on his face that echoed her own.  She stood to one side of the desk; waiting until the last of the stragglers had checked out and said goodnight.

“You okay?” Al asked.

“I am now.  It’s been a bit hairy upstairs. Natasha and her mother are very rude words, and poor Daryl has got dragged into the mess now.  If the Coroner’s verdict implicates Oliver, we might all be out of a job.”

“How would you feel about that?” Al asked, as he closed down the computer and locked everything away.

“Could you teach me how to paint and renovate a house?”

“I would love to.  What are we doing about dinner tonight, and breakfast?”

“I need to feed Buster and get an overnight bag.”

“Of course.  There’s a big supermarket en route to mine.  We can cook, or get a takeaway.  I’ll have to pick up some chocolate Shreddies though.”

“The way to my heart!”

“I’ll make a note of that.”

Mike, the night security guard arrived, and Al did a brief but efficient handover.  Ever wary, he checked the CCTV of the car park before offering his arm to Sarah.  She took it, and tried not to squeeze too tightly as they walked across the concourse to the car park.

“So, who have you told, and what have you told them?” he asked.

“Well, just Jenny really.  I had to tell her where I was staying tonight.  She raised her eyebrows and wanted more information but I didn’t volunteer anything unnecessary.”

“Somehow Oliver has got hold of the information.  He nudged me with his elbow on the way out, and told me that I was a man of mystery and a lucky dog.”

“That’s a compliment, coming from Oliver.  I expect he’ll have the thumbscrews and the rack ready for tomorrow morning.”

Al stopped at the entrance to the underground car park and took Sarah’s hands in his.

“I don’t want to disappoint you, Sarah.  It’s been years since my wife and I split up, and there hasn’t been anyone important since.  I was never that good at romance anyway, and well, I don’t have much to offer in terms of boyfriend material.”

Sarah felt that flutter of butterflies as she looked up into his eyes, which were most definitely a deep blue.

“I don’t want to compare you with my ex, Al, but this time I have to.  Andy took over my life and I allowed him to, because I was too scared to cope with life when my Dad died.  Gradually, I began to rebel against Andy and his weird obsessions; by eating chocolate Shreddies, takeaway pizza and watching TV in the bedroom.  Andy going off to find himself in Thailand was the best thing that ever happened to me at the time. Since then, I found Millie, a home, a job, and best of all, I found you.  Let’s get Buster fed and watered, pick up some shopping and go home. To your home.”

Ignoring the CCTV cameras, Al took her in his arms and kissed her.  They were so engrossed with each at that moment, that neither noticed the presence of one large person, and one significantly smaller person standing behind the concrete partition.  The reverie was split by the sound of a car alarm going off; shortly after that, they heard a scream.

“Stay here near the car Sarah.  I won’t be long.”

Al ran up the slope, and looked around for the source of the noise.  It stopped, and was replaced by the sound of Sarah, calling his name in a rather restrained but panicky voice.  He turned around and ran back, only to find that Marta had her arm around Sarah’s neck, and was holding a knife to her throat.  A slightly hysterical, but apparently gleeful Natasha was standing next to them, emptying the contents of Sarah’s handbag onto the floor, and moving the contents around with her still plaster-casted foot.

“What you look for Tasha?  I don’t want her money now.  I just want to get my own back, and so do you.  Don’t move any closer security man or I will slit your girlfriend’s throat with my very sharp knife.  She made promises to me and she didn’t keep them.  Same as Peter, same as my ex-husband. I will get them all in the end”

Al ventured forward a step, but stopped as Marta drew the knife blade down the left side of Sarah’s face, leaving a long and bloody cut. 

Natasha laughed.

“More, Marta! More blood! I was looking for her rape alarm but it isn’t there.  We were all given rape alarms to keep us safe, but it seems that Sarah the social worker thinks she is above all that.  Let’s see you get out of this then Sarah!  Your boyfriend will just have to stand there and watch you die while Marta cuts you open!”

Despite feeling absolutely terrified, Sarah’s mind was trying desperately to recall the self-defence techniques she had been taught on the forensic social work placement she’d done with Jude years ago.  Marta’s grip was very tight, and Sarah knew that there was no reasoning with her, nor with Natasha, so buoyed up were they with adrenalin, and a sense of their own importance.  Catching Al’s eye, Sarah slowly closed and opened both of hers twice, then began to slump as if Marta was cutting off her airway.  The dead weight of Sarah’s body took Marta by surprise, and she loosened her hold.  It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Sarah to get hold of the knife arm and shove it away from her as hard as she could.  At the same time, she pushed her legs and bottom backwards into Marta’s stomach, knocking her off balance.

Al moved very fast once he saw the opportunity; he knocked the knife out of Marta’s hand, punched her in the jaw, and kicked Natasha’s plaster cast so that she fell over. Marta was out cold, and Natasha sat on the floor grizzling from the pain, and calling for her mother.  Mike had seen it all on the CCTV, and pressed the alarm for the police and ambulance, before racing over to assist with detaining Natasha and Marta, who was beginning to come round from Al’s sucker punch. Sarah was holding Al’s handkerchief to her face, and beginning to feel a bit dizzy from the shock and blood loss.  Al opened his car door and sat her down on the passenger seat, before making sure that Marta wasn’t going anywhere.

The police arrived, and took Marta and Natasha away to their car in handcuffs. Al put his arm around Sarah’s shoulders and held her tight, relieved that she had escaped the attack, angry that Marta had hurt her, but incredibly proud of her quick thinking. A paramedic took the handkerchief away from Sarah’s face very gently and examined the cut.

“It’s deep.  Too deep for glue or steri-strips.  What kind of knife was it?”

“The police have it.” said Al.  “Looked like a standard, but expensive kitchen knife, probably supplied by dear little Natasha. Do we need to take Sarah to hospital?”

“We’ll take her in the ambulance. I expect the police will want to speak to you further.  Are you a friend of Sarah’s?”

Al nodded, and Sarah, trying not to smile because her face hurt, grabbed Al’s hand.

“Rather more than a friend actually.  Al is my partner. Will I have to stay in hospital?”

“Not down to me.  It’s always best to get checked out first though. Are you ready to go now?”

Al gave Sarah another of his gentlest bear hugs; and whispered in her ear, “I’ll get to the hospital as soon as can.  Will you wait for me?”

“Always.  Is the supermarket an all-night one?”

“I won’t forget the chocolate Shreddies.” Al said as he kissed her hand, then watched as she walked slowly over to the ambulance, supported by the paramedic.

The police had plenty of questions, and unfortunately, as Al’s detective friend was off duty, there was a lot of explaining to be done about Marta’s stalking, and Natasha’s collusion in what was being considered attempted murder.  Al had to cram in a great deal of necessities on the way but got to the hospital as quickly as he could, and ran along the corridor checking in each of the cubicles until he found Sarah.  Of course, she was in the very last cubicle; sitting up on the hospital trolley with a large but neat dressing on her face.  Before leaving the Quays car park, Al had gathered up the contents of Sarah’s handbag, and her laptop bag, which had been dropped when Marta grabbed her. To say that Sarah was overjoyed at having her belongings back, would be an understatement. Her reaction to seeing Al was even more intense, in that she clung to him like a lifebelt, and pressed her unscathed cheek to his chest.

“They said that there will be a scar Al, it’s quite a long cut, and – and – if she’d pressed the knife in a little harder, and longer – well – I might not be here.”

“But you are here, and Marta is locked up.  So is her little friend, who far from wanting to apologise for her actions, is still spitting and swearing at anyone who will listen.  Do you have to stay in overnight?”

“No.  They just said I’d have to wait for you.  The nurse is bringing me some painkillers, an appointment to come back in a week to check the wound, several clean dressings, and a huge list of instructions.”

“Where do you want to go now?  I’ve been in and fed Buster, but now that Marta’s in custody, you can go back to the flat if you want?”

“What I really want is to go back to yours – if that’s okay.  It’s not just a question of feeling safe anymore.  Can you put up with the company of this drugged-up scar-face?”

“Silly question.  I put some things into a bag for you.  I was kind of hoping that you might want to stay.”

Sarah managed a feeble laugh but refrained from smiling because it hurt too much now that the local anaesthetic was wearing off.

“Any excuse to rummage through my knicker drawer.”

The nurse came in with the list and the painkillers.  She insisted on Sarah going out to the car in the wheelchair, and watching while Al helped Sarah into the passenger seat and secured the seat belt. They waved goodbye, and drove out of the hospital car park, only to reposition at the nearby retail centre that had every kind of takeaway food available.

“Eat in the car or warm things up when we get home?” asked Al as he paid for the food.  His question was answered by Sarah nibbling frantically on the chicken nuggets as soon as he offered them to her.  She had an idea that a burger would entail opening up her mouth too wide for the stitches but nuggets were just the right size.  The strawberry milkshake tasted like ambrosia from the gods, but it was once she had finished eating that Sarah found herself crying.  Silently at first, but as the every-thoughtful Al started mopping her up with the wodge of napkins he’d grabbed, the fear and shock that had been building up since the attack finally found an outlet. Al held her tight in his arms until the sobbing subsided, and both he and the napkins were drenched.

“Sorry, Al.  I’ve made your shirt all wet.”

“It will wash.  I’m not sure that your blouse will recover though, I found a couple of blouses in the wardrobe that I’ve seen you in, and put them in the bag.  If necessary, I have an extensive range of large shirts and black tee-shirts at home that you can use.”

“I think I’d rather burn this blouse than try to get the blood out of it.  Every time I look at it, I’ll be reminded of Marta.  Mind you, with this scar, I’ll have a permanent reminder anyway.”

“It will fade in time, Sarah. At the moment it’s a reminder of what a brave and resourceful woman you are.  You should see it as a mark of honour.  That’s the way policeman see scars.”

Sarah emerged from the sea of damp napkins.

“Al, you are a strange, but totally wonderful person, and I bless the day that I met you.”

“Me too.” said Al as he gathered up the takeaway detritus and took it off to the nearest bin.

Sarah was still smiling when she left the lift and headed towards the aftercare office. Jenny and Mel were in conversation with some other members of the team, but were obviously waiting for Sarah to return.  She made a concerted effort to look serious.

“Hi, sorry I’m late. I had to talk to the police about Marta.  She’s still on the loose I’m afraid.”

Jenny looked down at her notes and frowned.

“Just confirm for me Sarah, we saw Marta through to the airside staff at the airport, didn’t we?”

“Yes, and she returned to Holland as arranged.  After speaking to someone from here, she obtained my address, and came back because she is convinced that I can help her get the money and recognition that she feels she is owed.”

“Do we know where that information came from?” asked Mel, knowing that everyone knew the answer.

Sarah looked over at Daryl. He took a deep breath.

“It was Natasha.  She was the only one in the office, and she admitted that she’d given Marta the information in order to get her own back on Sarah.  I don’t think that Natasha realised how much trouble it was going to cause for everyone.  She’s told me that she’s sorry, and that she wants to apologise to Sarah.”

“Tough!” said Jenny.  “She has blown any chance of getting back into the building or any of the other offices.  Oliver spoke to the legal department this morning, and basically Natasha has broken nearly every clause in her contract.  She will never get a job in media again. Neither will Natasha’s Mummy. We just have to make sure that you are safe, Sarah.  Any ideas?”

“I’ll be staying with a friend for the time being.  Although Millie’s flat is fairly secure, we know that Marta is adept at conning her way into places.  Security here is first class so I’m safe whilst I’m on site. I have no doubt that I will be safe at my friend’s house too.”

“We don’t want to put anyone else at risk, especially if there are children involved.” said Jenny.

“It’s not my friend Jude.  I’ll give you the address shortly, but the police have said that I need to keep the location secret for now – I trust you all, but Marta is very good at getting information out of people, and I don’t want anyone else on the team put at risk.”

“Thank you, Sarah.  There is one other thing that I need to warn you all about – especially in terms of reporters ringing up, or asking you questions away from the office.  There’s been a suicide; a person who was on the show and apparently failed the lie detector test.  We all know that the test is not fool proof, but usually the truth comes out eventually.  The inquest is being held next week; it may reflect badly on all of us but particularly on Oliver.  The aftercare team could have done more to support this man, but Millie was away, Sarah hadn’t started with us, and it looks as if the hand of Natasha was responsible for cancelling the counselling sessions that he was offered.  Off you all go now but, please, keep this to yourselves, and not a word to Natasha!”

The rest of the team filed out and headed for the canteen and some much-needed caffeine.  Jenny picked up her pen to write down Sarah’s temporary address.

“No need.” said Sarah. “I’m staying at Al’s tonight. In the spare bedroom.”

Jenny did her best not to react to the news.

“With Al? Okay, is there anything else you want to tell me – off the record?”

“Off the record.  Al has been a great friend to me from the very first moment I arrived here.  Our friendship has progressed, but I don’t want Al to feel awkward if the young runners start making coarse comments.  I trust that I can rely on your discretion Jenny, and that I’m not breaking any company rules?”

“No.  Of course not.  Al is a great bloke, and we all respect him…”

“As do I.  In the short time that we have known each other, I’ve discovered that there is so much more to Al than most of you see.  I spent ten years trapped with a man who did his utmost to control me, and disapproved on principle of everything that I liked.  Al makes me laugh; we enjoy the same things, and I knew for certain that I wanted to get to know him better from the instant I stepped into his living room and saw most of my favourite books on his shelves.  You can rely on us both being discreet at work of course.  The most important thing is finding Marta, and keeping her from harming anyone.”

“Of course, Sarah.  Is it okay if we brief the other security staff about Marta and the possible risk – and that Al is taking personal responsibility for your safety?”

Sarah winked.

“I rather like the sound of that, Jenny.”

Not known for her sense of humour, on this occasion, Jenny smiled and winked back as she left the room.  Sarah took out her mobile and sent Al a text advising that Jenny knew about her staying at his house, and that she had ensured that discretion would be maintained. As an afterthought Sarah added “So no more snogging in the lift. S xxxx”

Al’s reply was short but very sweet; a smiley face followed by four kisses.  Sarah felt like she was twenty-one again and going off to the Graduation Ball. Then she remembered what happened to poor Amy Loomis, and sent up a silent prayer of thanks that she was older and wiser – to some extent anyway.

Mondays and Tuesdays, when there was no filming taking place, were often slow and taken up with the follow-ups from previous shows, and preparing for the next group of people to put in an appearance on Wednesday. Jenny asked Sarah to have a look through the file on the man who had killed himself, hoping that she might spot something that had been missed.

She did.

It was another of those cases where Oliver had taken a dislike to the man, and quite openly goaded him so that the audience, fickle as ever, made the whole situation worse by booing and jeering.  The aftercare that should have been set up was cancelled – by Natasha who felt that Oliver had seen through the man’s lies, and that he didn’t ‘deserve’ having more resources wasted on him.  Sarah had no doubt that such a decision should never have been left to an immature and inexperienced runner.  She looked for signs that Millie had been aware of the situation, but it was clear that other people who were less experienced in aftercare had rushed through the process while she was off for a few rare days with Tom.  Other members of the team were aware of Oliver’s dislike of the man and probably kept quiet in the hope that there would be no repercussions.  To be fair, that would usually be the case, but on this occasion the combination of Oliver’s annoyance, Natasha’s arrogance, and the blind eye turned by other team members could all have contributed to what was a very sad situation.  Ultimately, Oliver would have to take the blame.  The outrageous behaviour that made him a cult hero to many might also be his downfall.

Sarah typed up her notes and emailed them to Jenny. She went looking for Daryl, who she had a feeling might be able to shed light on what had gone on.  He was in the canteen, locked into his mobile, and didn’t hear her approach.

“I need to ask you some questions Daryl; it would be better if you told me the truth right from the start.”

“What? What have I done?”

“There are going to be questions asked about this poor man who has committed suicide.  According to the records, you, as a trained polygraph operator, supervised Natasha when she carried out the lie test on him.  Did you?”

Daryl looked down at the table top and muttered, “No.”

“Why not?  You know the rules.  Natasha hadn’t even done the training.  She should never have carried out the test, even with supervision.”

“We were busy.  I told her she would have to wait until I could supervise her, but she said that her mother had told her she needed the experience. I was called away, and by the time I came back she had done the test, and was dancing around the office waving the result.  She said that it didn’t matter because Oliver didn’t like the bloke anyway.”

“Did you tell Millie?”

“No, by the time she came back from Cambridge the programme had been recorded.  Natasha knew that Millie would be cross, so she swore us all to secrecy.  She said that if we told on her, she’d tell her mother and we’d lose our jobs.”

“We are going to have to talk to Jenny about this.”

“Will I lose my job?”

“Depends on what happens.  If the Coroner considers Oliver to be an interested person, this might be the end of the show, of all our jobs, and of Oliver’s career.  Based on Natasha’s flawed polygraph test, this man was branded a serial liar and took his own life.  Come on. Time to get this sorted out.”

Sarah followed Daryl up to Jenny’s office.  She was waiting, together with Oliver, Mel and a serious-looking woman from the legal department.  Jenny had printed off Sarah’s notes and circulated them. Sarah and Daryl took their seats at the end of the conference table. Oliver did not look happy.

“In addition to the notes I sent you, Daryl has some further information.  It doesn’t reflect well on anyone, but some of the blame has to lie with Natasha, and particularly with her mother’s threats of getting people sacked if they refused to help her daughter.”

Oliver exploded! “That bloody woman and her imbecile of a daughter!  Whatever happens Jenny, we are never employing anyone based on family or friend’s recommendations!”

“That’s me out then!” said Sarah

Oliver glared at her, and then realised what he had said.  Jenny put a hand on Sarah’s arm.

“Millie may have brought you to us Sarah, but believe me, you were employed on your own merit, experience and qualifications. You have also proved your worth to us on several occasions, including this one.  In addition, working on this show has put you into personal danger from one of the guests, also down to Natasha.  Please rest assured that whatever happens, neither you, nor Millie can be held responsible. We’re also very grateful that Al is in a position to keep you safe.”

“Al?” said Oliver. “Our Al?  Our security guard?  What has he got to do with this?”

Sarah smiled. “He’s saved my life from Marta once already. There is far more to Al than just being a security guard.   Do you need me for anything else Jenny?  I’ve got some profiles to look through for Wednesday.”

“Thank you, Sarah.  I’ll just see you out.”

Jenny walked Sarah out into the corridor.

“Go easy on Daryl, Jenny? Natasha obviously took advantage of Millie’s absence to get her own way.  We’ve all seen how domineering and arrogant she and her mother can be.”

“We’ll see.  You do realise that referring to Al in there will have set off Oliver’s nose for a secret?”

Sarah shrugged.

“I am not in any way embarrassed by my relationship with Al.  Don’t tell Oliver, but Al is the best kisser I’ve met since I went to Uni.  Definitely better looking, and infinitely better company than my ex-partner. Catch you later!”

It took Jenny a few minutes to stop laughing, and compose herself before she could return to the conference room and Daryl’s fate.