Forget Me Not

I flick off the lights, looking around the bar as I start up the first stair, just to make sure I've cleared away every glass, wiped down every surface. I know Sharon would kill me if I haven't left the place spick and span. She's done great with this place, I'm really proud of her. I can only hope to run a place like this as well as she does. She works herself into the ground in fact, so she deserves the occassional day off. Today has been the first time she's actually willingly taken time out. And even then, she hasn't even been down to check how I was coping without her. I think she knows now that I'm capable of taking care of things for her, but still, it's always been an in-built thing for Sharon; like no-one else can take care of the place like she can.

I have to admit, I'm worried about her, not having seen her today. Maybe she headed out shopping with Vicki Up West or something.

Shut up worrying Rickman, I tell myself, pulling out the keys to lock the door behind me. I shove them into my pocket, pushing my hands into the lining. When I reach the market, I dive behind the stalls, just praying that Zoe won't catch sight of me. I can do without all the lovey-dovey stuff today. It's pretentious, and it gets right on my nerves if I'm honest. I head into Minute Mart, pulling a fiver out of my back pocket.

"Bottle of vodka please mate," I say, smiling briefly at the bloke behind the counter.

"At three in the afternoon? That's pretty bad, even for you Dennis!"

I turn towards the voice, rolling my eyes. "Yeah whatever Vicki." I chuckle. "I've had a hell of a day. The Pepsi pump went berserk this morning."

"Oh I'm sure you handled it." she replies, reaching across and putting a family size bar of Galaxy next to my bottle of vodka. "He'll pay." she tells the assistant.

"Oh will I?" I pretend to sound narked, but I hand over two fives instead of the one. "And what about you and this massive bar of chocolate Vicks? I thought you were watching your weight?"

"You bloody watch it!" she giggles, whacking me on the arm with the chocolate. "It's for me & Kareena; I'm going round to hers to watch some DVD."

I can't keep the concern out of my voice. "Oh right. Have you not been with Sharon this morning then?"

"Not since breakfast, no. Why?"

"She didn't come down to the club today, that's all."

"It's her day off."

"I know that, but she always comes down."

Stepping out of the shop, Vicki squints against the bright summer sunlight. She weaves her arm through mine, and we start walking together, in the direction that won't take her to the Ferreiras. She doesn't seem to have noticed though.

"Sharon's a big girl now Dennis. She's pretty capable of doing stuff on her own y'know. Just 'cause I haven't been with her doesn't mean she's not somewhere having a good time."

"Hmmm."

We've stopped walking, and Vicki's looking pointedly across at Zoe's stall. Zoe smiles brightly at me, obviously expecting me to go over. I just smile weakly and guide Vicki to behind the stalls walking along in the cool shade, thankfully out of view.

"Are you alright Dennis?"

"Yeah darlin', course I am. Look I'll see you later OK? I'm gonna go have a drink."

She guaffaws. "Dennis, you just bought a quart of vodka!"

"Haven't drunk it yet though have I?" I point out, kissing her on the cheek.

"Sitting on park benches drinking alone isn't a good image Rickman!" she calls jokingly as I walk off from her.

I smile, looking back at her across the Square as I stop outside the Vic's door. I like Vicki. I like being her brother. She's a really cute kid.

I go into the Vic. And in the corner, sat quietly in a booth, staring blankly into an empty glass, is Sharon. 

"Penny for 'em." I murmur quietly, straddling a stool I bring over from another table.

"Dennis." she says, acknowledging me with a weak smile.

"Hiya. I was just wondering about you, y'know... not having seen you today-"

"Sorry."

"Nah, don't be sorry Sharon; it's your day off isn't it? I just thought you might have come down the club, like usual, y'know."

"I meant to."

I notice she seems really quiet... withdrawn even. I try and think if I've done anything to upset her.

"So..." I begin, "what have you been up to then? Only I just saw Vicki, said you weren't with her. I'll tell you something Sharon, she's definitely my sister alright. She's a right bloody wangler."

I realise I'm rambling, a bad habit Sharon says, and yet she's barely noticed. I get off my stool and move into the booth next to her, edging my arm along the back of her.

"Sharon, are you OK?" I ask, narrowing my eyes with worry.

"Hmm?" she answers, turning to me as if she's only just noticed I'm there. "Yeah, yeah, sorry, I'm fine. Just thinking that's all."

"What about?"

"Me. I've been thinking about me."

"How long have you been sat here?"

She laughs, that perfectly intoxicating laugh and she looks right at me. It's then, don't ask how, that I know she isn't drunk.

"Long enough darlin'. It's the perfect place to come isn't it? For me. Home sweet home." 

"I don't believe that anymore than you do Sharon."

"No? Good. Because this place is hell."

I truly think she's going to start crying. She just seems so down. But I know Sharon's strong. She continues to look me right in the face, absent-mindedly playing with a beer mat.

"You know what Dennis darlin'? I made some of the worst choices of my life in this pub."

Then she tears her gaze away from me and stares at the table. 

"Right over there" she murmurs, gesturing with the beermat to the booth where Pauline is drinking with Derek, "that's where it all went wrong."

"Tell me." I coax, confused.

"When I married Grant, we came back here; everyone was happy, we were all smiling, and I was looking forward to making him happy.... my husband, having his children.... but I was dreaming. Grant changed... everything he'd seen when he was in the army... it ruined him. We'd fight and scream and... he'd hit me, I'd cry... then he'd storm out."

I can't seem to keep the edge of jealousy from my voice. "Where's Phil come into this?"

"About now." she answers meekly. Then she sighs. "They used to say Phil was the better side of Grant, and I guess I believed it. Because right over there" she motions again, "Phil kissed me. My husband's brother... and I let him. I kissed him back... and we slept together."

"Sharon," I say, closing my eyes, trying to block out the images her words are conjuring up, regretting asking her to confide in me. "I don't need to hear this."

"No Dennis," she pleads, placing her hand over mine, "please listen."

I smile weakly, knowing I sound angry with her. I'm not angry. I just... I don't need to hear this. "I don't need a running commentary of every bloke you've ever slept with Sharon." Christ I can't believe how bitter I sound.

"That's not what this is." she says steadily. "I'm trying to tell you about me, what's going on in my head. Not everything that's happened in my life is about sex."

"No?" I ask, hardly realising how cruel I sound. "Then why was it your marriage broke up Sharon?"

She laughs again, giving me a bemused smile. "Over there Dennis."

"What?"

"1994. I was stood just over there... about where Winston is now.... wearing the most god awful brown two-piece you can imagine, laughing & drinking with Phil. It was his engagement party. Whatever had happened between us was over, and I was bloody heartbroken. He was going to marry Kathy. So I had to get on with it. Only, erm.... Michelle-"

"Vicki's mum?"

Sharon nods. "She was doing a journalism course... interviewed me on tape. We were drinking and I told her about Phil. How much I thought I loved him, how gutted I was that he'd dumped me.... and Grant found it. He found the tape. No-one had any idea. He... just c-came in here, and played the tape. Then everyone knew... and I was so ashamed. My husband's brother... I knew what everyone thought. Sharon Mitchell, what a slapper she is. So I went to Mum... in Florida..."

Then she falls silent. She doesn't mention that she came back a year later, sold the Vic, bedded her husband again. She's never told me that bit, and believe me, I can do without hearing that coming from her mouth. It was Vicki who told me. Made it a bit easier for me that way.

"You still wanted him though didn't you Sharon? Phil...."

"Yeah, yeah I did." She doesn't meet my eye as she speaks. "And for a while it was great.... everything I'd hoped it was going to be the first time round.... until.... until he wanted us to have children. Phil wanted me to have his baby."

Hmmm, I can see why. God I can, I've been there.

"But I couldn't. And when I told him I'd aborted Grant's child, that was it. We were over."

"Hmmm. So he didn't mind shagging you behind his precious brother's back then eh Sharon? Just aborting his child."

"Well, think about where he was coming from eh? I murdered an innocent life."

"Shut up." I say softly, squeezing her shoulder. "We both know you've paid enough for that."

"Yeah well, it's not all bad eh? I found Tom."

I don't say anything, don't trust myself to. Tom, this dead man that Sharon loved so much, I always resented him. Sharon described him as the love of her life, probably because he was the only one to treat her half decent. I like to think that was, before me. But I know that's a lie. One I tell myself to make myself feel better.

"Even when everyone was trying to tell me he lied to me, and that he was no good, I loved him. Even when he wouldn't marry me. I'd made a complete hash of my first marriage, but I knew that with Tom, it'd be right. Even when he told me he was dying, I wanted to marry him-"

Again, I squeeze my eyes shut. I don't need to hear about Sharon loving other men, imagine it. So why am I doing this? Am I doing my turn as the dutiful brother? I'll never be Sharon's brother, never again.

"But he died anyway. So then I was alone until-"

She runs her fingers up the stem of her ever empty wine glass, not wanting to look at me, have eye contact with me as she speaks. It makes me feel uncomfortable too, so I avert my gaze, scratching the nape of my neck.

"Until Vicki found you."

Hmmm, this is going to become a very interesting conversation then. I have the feeling we'll both need a bit of Dutch courage before we head there, so I take her glass and stride to the bar.

"Let me get you another drink eh Sharon?"

She stays silent, just smiles. As I stand at the bar, I can feel her eyes boring into me. So what's in her face? Admiration or contempt? God, I wish I could see.

"There you go." I place her glass in her grasp as I sit back down, and I notice her hands are shaking. She's scared too then. Somehow it's comforting I'm not the only one scared of this. She sips steadily at her drink before she shakily puts it back on the table with a soft clunk.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, course you can...."

"Do you not ever find it slightly scary that you had a relationship with..."

"With you? No, no I don't."

She gives me a nervous smile. "Sorry. I just can't seem to shake the fact that, twelve years ago, sleeping with my husband's brother was the worst thing I'd ever done and then-"

But I already know what she plans to say. "You slept with me."

She looks horrified, doesn't say a thing.

"Sharon? What's going on with us?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, who am I? You're saying all this, but who are you talking to? Am I your brother... who you just happened to sleep with a couple of times.... or am I someone else? An ex-boyfriend, or-"

"Dennis" she says quietly, squeezing my hand, "don't do this to yourself sweetheart."

"Why can't you say?"

"Because I hope you already know that it was never just a case of sleeping with you. I loved you."

"As much as you loved Grant Mitchell? Or Phil?"

She can see the anger in my face. I'm trying to suppress it but it just isn't working. She knows me too well.

"The way I felt about any of you was completely different. And this isn't a competition Dennis."

"No c'mon, I mean, you married Grant... and I bet if you could have done you'd have had Mitchell's kid-"

I watch the hurt dominate her gorgeous eyes as I, like the bastard I am, twist the knife in about the whole baby issue.

"Why are you attacking me for having loved someone Dennis?"

Well, how exactly do I tell her imaging her with any of the blokes she's ever been with makes me sick with jealousy?

"What about you eh? Because I know I'm just a name on a long list. I wasn't the first, and I'm sure for as long as you can get it up darlin', I won't be the last!"

I physically wince, biting my lip. I stare hard at her, and all that looks back is her defiance. "You want to know who you are Sharon? You're the only name on that list that means a single fucking thing. You're the only person on that list I felt anything for."

Sharon scoffs, taking up her drink. "Yeah, like I believe that."

"Well I loved you OK? I really loved you, even before anything between us, I really loved you."

"Yeah, course you did. Like I was the One eh Dennis?"

"For your information, yeah you were. And I know that it was the most pathetic shit-arse thing I ever did ruining things between us. I know it, but it's done now and I can't change it."

"I know. But what would we have done otherwise Dennis?"

She doesn't wait for me to answer, just picks up her bag beside her and gets up. I get up too, briefly catching her arm. She turns towards me and I pull my hand back.

"Sharon? Sit down, just listen to me for a sec."

She sits back down, staring at me. I feel like such an idiot, getting ready to say this. But Sharon cuts in there first.

"How did all this reach here Dennis?"

"You. Reminscing. telling me how bad your life's turned out, when we both know there are several instances in your life where you were happy."

She gives me this little smile, and I know she follows what I'm talking about.

"Over there Sharon," I tell her, dropping my hand into my lap and flicking my forefinger up into the general direction of the bar. "Remember what happened there?"

"Course I do."

"Tell me you weren't happy then?"

"I wasn't. I did it because I was scared of losing you. But before then... before the argument we had that day, yeah, I was happy."

"Well there you go then. It might not be quite the same anymore, but still-"

"Not quite the same? Dennis, these days it's hard just to look at you without remembering what it was like."

And in that moment, she looks so sad, and I just feel as if there's no point in saying what I had planned unless I want to rip her in half. But she hasn't forgotten my intention to speak.

"Anyway," she says bravely, looking up from her lap, "what was it you wanted to say?"

"It doesn't matter."

"No, c'mon, if we're gonna turn this into a reminscing session about us, we might as well go the whole hog."

"Sharon-"

"Tell me what you wanted to say."

I sigh, preparing myself for this. it'll sound so weird, like nothing Dennis Rickman would ever say.

"OK. Well, when we were together Sharon... however you want to look at it; living together, sleeping together... whatever, I used to watch you and I used to wonder about things I've never thought about before."

"Such as?"

Embarrassed, I look away, pulling at my knuckles and carrying on. "Like, getting married. I mean, if you'd marry Mitchell's brother then why not me?"

"You know the answer to that." she says quietly, not able to keep the astonishment from her voice.

"I guess I do. I mean, I knew it'd never happen, but I'd never wanted it before, so I wondered, that was all. I know it sounds weird, but I hoped the same sort of stuff was going through your head too."

"It was."

Oh God.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I looked right at you once, the day we looked after Bobby, and all I could think was, however stupid and incomprehensible it was... I wanted to give you a baby. I could see in your face how much you'd love it. I knew how good a dad you'd be and I wondered what it would feel like to have your... our child in my arms. I just wanted to see your face when someone handed over this tiny little bundle, and all you could see when you looked at him was me and you- but then I stopped daydreaming.... Bobby had spilt his juice or something and then I remembered I wouldn't have a baby, not with you, not with anyone. So that was it."

I feel so awful for her then, because I wanted the exact same thing just as much, I reach for her underneath the table, lacing together our fingers together. She glances at me nervously, but doesn't pull away.

"We both wanted it then Sharon."

"Yep. Not that it matters now though eh?"

"All gone now," I agree, not having an ounce of faith in the words I'm saying. And neither it appears does Sharon. Her hand has fallen away from mine; she's shaking her head.

"It won't ever go away Dennis. It'll always be in here. What it was.... what it could been... torturing us both. Not that it means anything now. Because when I'm alone in my bed, I know you're across the hall, lying on your back, staring at the shadows on the ceiling, some twenty-year old girl spooned up to you-"

"And who do you think I'm wondering about hmmm? Who?"

"I don't need to hear this." she murmurs, echoing my words from earlier.

"You brought the conversation here Sharon."

"Yeah, I know, and you're just too happy to go over it all again aren't you? Telling me how much you loved me; that you wish I'd married you-"

I'm humoured as I watch her darkened face. "Hmmm, and you wanting my child isn't going a bit deep either eh Sharon?"

"Well, what if it had happened eh? What if I was sat here, right now, pregnant. It doesn't matter how much we wanted it when we were together does it, because if it was a reality, I'd be a single parent, packing them off to you for weekend visits."

"No you wouldn't."

"Oh don't tell me. You'd have stood by me right? Or better even, we'd still have been together?"

"I think so."

"Well that's no bloody good is it Dennis? It sounds so wrong; almost like the only reason you're actually sleeping with some girl off the street is because I couldn't give you a baby to hold us together."

"Shut up. It wouldn't have been like that."

She pushes her head back, studying the ceiling. "Ahhh, what might have been Dennis. It's a beautiful thing."

"Yeah. Do you not think me wanting to soddin' marry you might have changed things a bit? You can't seriously believe we'd still be here now if-"

"-if I was your wife? I do as it goes Dennis. Face it, you'll never get tied down willingly. Not even when it's permissable."

"So where did those thoughts come from?"

"Come from? Lust obviously."

I laugh nervously, pushing a fag between my lips, aware she's glaring at me. "You're so wrong I can't believe it." I tell her, shaking my head disbelievingly as I expel the first cloud of comforting poisons. "You know as well as I do that wanting marriage and kids doesn't come from lust. Lust is about liking the way someone looks, wanting them, not- not caring about consequences."

"Me and you were always gonna have those darlin'." she says dryly. "We might have wanted each other but-"

"It changed though, you know it did. And that's where it all came from Sharon.."

And she laughs merrily then. It bloody hurts.

"I knew it'd sound stupid," I mutter, cursing myself.

"It isn't that Dennis. It's the fact that all that came from nine weeks of creeping to your bed every night. It never worked like that with anyone else."

"Not even Philip?" I question gruffly.

And again, she chuckles, in her own subdued way. "You're a lot like him you know Dennis."

I scowl. "What?"

"You & Phil.... you're the same sort of bloke."

Agitated, I crush my cigarette into the beer mat. "You've got to be fucking joking. For starters, I'm not three stone overweight, I don't have a neck like a chicken, I'm not bald and I'm not forty-odd."

"Calm down!" she giggles, "Anyway I meant, you're both from the same sort of life-"

"Would this be the same world that you said 'tainted your life'?"

She gives me a weak smile. "Phil had a good memory too."

"Yeah, just good enough to remember what you were like in bed eh Sharon? Just good enough to make sure he wanted you a second time round."

"As I remember, it wasn't any different for you."

"Look Sharon, there's nothing similar about us... the only thing me & Mitchell have got in common is you."

"And Jack Dalton."

Oh fuck. All I can say is I'm glad she said that quietly. She sees the worry etched in my face and drops her hand into my lap, squeezing my fingers together lightly in her palm.

"Sorry."

I can't stop myself blurting out what's going through my head at that moment. "What are you apologising for? You didn't kill him."

"I know I didn't. But I was there wasn't I? Afterwards I saw what it did to you. When I came to Dot's that day..."

"Forget that day Sharon," I tell her forcefully. "Whatever I said that day doesn't change what I did."

"You opened the door and all I could think was-"

"You called me a murderer. And what was worse was that it was true. I looked in your face... this gorgeous woman I was in love with... and all I saw was the disappointment that I'd lied to you."

"So why was it you pushing me out the door Dennis?"

"Why?" I laugh bitterly. "Because I wasn't thinking about Jack then. I did, but not then."

"Tell me what you were thinking then."

I bite my lip, looking at her from the corner of my eye.

"Your mouth Sharon."

She looks bemused. "What about it?"

"That's what I was thinking about. Looking at your mouth, mezmerized by it even, even though all I wanted was to look away.... your lips were swollen still, and all I could think was that I'd hit you. Something I'd sworn blind I'd never do, even when we realised how hard it was going to get for us."

"I know you didn't mean to."

"But I still did it. It was me who knocked you to the floor. Me who didn't stop to think before whacking you."

"You were angry."

"But I hit you. I loved you, and I hit you. How did that work eh? I just couldn't bear to look at you when you came to Dot's, because I still loved you then, but I couldn't forget what I'd done to you, because it was staring right at me. I didn't deserve to be with you if I could do that."

"Now you're being soft."

"Is that just like Phil too? Because he was there Sharon. He pressed a gun to my head, and if he had had to, I know he'd have killed me, I mean, who would have missed me eh?" 

"Stop it Dennis! Stop this right now."

"Well?"

"You know damn well there are people who love you. A damn sight more people than who cared about Jack Dalton. Even Andy for God sake. What was it he said to you? That he'd shake the hand of whoever did him in."

"That makes me feel really special." I mutter darkly.

"You are special Dennis. Not because of Jack or Andy or the Firm. You're special because you're you."

"They made me Sharon."

"Don't be so bloody ridiculous."

"It's the truth."

"I didn't love any gangster Dennis."

"No. I know you didn't. Just a cold blooded murderer eh? Guess that's a quality that sets me and the Mitchells apart."

She throws me a dark, disapproving look. "At Dot's," she continues firmly, "I realised who you really were."

"Not one of my greatest moments. Bet it really ruined all your illusions about me."

"I still cared though. It might have been Dad who told me.... the one thing I'd have been alright not knowing... but I knew he wouldn't win."

I crack my knuckles, trying to ignore her. Because he won. I became the weakest most pathetic wanker, letting him pull me apart until that was it. Sharon and me were done.

"We all know what happened next Sharon."

"Yeah, yeah we do. Two weeks later, you took to shagging Zoe Slater, and what do you know, here we are my darling, going over it again."

"So let's stop. Sharon I am sorry y'know, but it's all done."

"Sorry Dennis?" she laughs, taking her glass and heading to the bar for another. I creep after her, standing beside her. She clocks my presence uncomfortably, "Another one please Alfie-"

"Right you are darlin'," he mutters awkwardly, looking between us both, registering the hateful, stern look she's giving me. I really don't like it.

She grabs my arm and roughly pulls me to the corner next to the booth we were just sat in. "You really don't have a clue do you?"

"Sorry?"

"You. Reckoning you're sorry when it's just so obvious you're not apologetic in the slightest."

Not sorry? You must be joking. I've never regretted anything so much in all my life. It apparently shows on my face. 

"If you were sorry, you'd realise that none of this changed. You'd realise that I'm not over any of it. You'd realise that everytime I see you with Zoe, I feel sick."

Alfie silently comes back to the bar, the same look on his face, putting the drinks on the bar top.

"Your drinks guys, they're .... erm, they're here OK?"

And Sharon strides over to get them. I stay where I am, dumbstruck. She scoots back into the booth, sipping at her drink. As she puts it down, she looks up at me.

"Does Zoe know Dennis? Does she know she's screwing the bloke who killed Jack Dalton?"

Panicked, I launch into the booth next to her, hurriedly motioning for her to be quiet.

"Keep your voice down!"

"No, c'mon darlin', I'm interested. This compensation you scrimped for yourself.... does she know who you really are?"

I force my head back, laughing wryly. "What do you think Sharon?"

"Oh Dennis," she mutters patronizingly as she takes up her drink again, "I don't think that's very fair do you?"

"Well, what should I do?"

"I don't know. Just remember that I knew Dennis. And I came back didn't I?"

I smile as I remember. Even after I'd told her the worst about me, she'd crept back to Dot's that night, grabbed my hand and led me into Sonia's old room. She kissed me and said that if I loved her, then who I was, what I'd done didn't matter. So she'd stayed that night. With me, holding her, kissing her hair. I haven't done that since.

"But that was that." I say miserably.

And her eyes fill with contempt. "Yep. It was. This amazing thing.... this feeling, whatever; you told me it was special to you."

"It was!"

She looks horribly close to tears again, and I try and run the back of my hand along her soft cheek, but she tilts her head and pushes my hand roughly away.

 "Don't you fucking dare patronize me Rickman. None of it meant shit did it? Not even two weeks later you were shagging the next woman to take an interest in you. You didn't even notice that I was in pieces everytime I looked at you. You didn't talk to me, like I'd done something wrong. You didn't once come up to me, put your arm round me, ask how I was, or say that you were sorry. Sometimes I think all I was to you was someone you could brag about to your mates. "Guess what lads, I got laid by my own sister!" It was all just sex, that's what I reckon, and I'll admit you're good Dennis, you're really good, but you're crap at everything else."

"What was I supposed to do Sharon? Come running up to you in the street, grabbing your hand, and saying 'sorry darlin', but I've made a big mistake'?"

"Yes, that's exactly what you should have done." she hisses certainly, throwing the rest of her drink to the back of her throat and grabbing her bag again. "But I should have known you didn't have it in you Dennis."

And she hurries out of the pub. I take a long drag on my fag, tilting my head back as I watch the cloud of smoke rise up from my mouth. Alfie shuffles over to pick up the glasses, and I can see his lips are twisted and set in worry, though knowing it would be much better if he kept his nose out.

"Er, Dennis mate, say it's none of my business but..."

What's the point? I think to myself, looking lazily at him, he's only going to carry on anyway no matter what I say.

"What?"

"It's just that-" He goes and places the glasses on the bar, coming back over to me and nervously scratching the nape of his neck. "-I just saw Sharon as she left, and she didn't look too happy. She was crying in fact, and I've never been one who likes to see a lady cry so-"

Shit! You are such an arse Rickman.

I hurriedly stuff my packet of fags into my pocket, sliding out of the booth. "Did you see which way she went Alf?"

"Back towards the club I think mate."

"Thanks." I bolt for the door.

"Dennis mate?"

"Yeah?"

"Make sure she's alright yeah?"

I smile weakly, but inside I'm pissed, I mean, what does he think I'm going to do to her?

I rush to the club. The door's not locked so Sharon has to be here. It's barely four o'clock, we're not due open for the evening before six.

"Sharon?" I call, searching the bar, diving quickly into the loos. Her bag is tucked under the bar by the latest delivery, I see as I grab myself a hefty vodka, knocking it back in one. Determination sets in as the comforting burn of the liquid races to my brain, creating an irrepressible buzz. So I hear to the office, pushing the door open just slightly and sliding in. 

Sharon's sat at her desk, a glass full of gin at her side, her hands pressed against her face. I can see she's shaking.... still crying. She hasn't realised I'm here, and slowly I go over to her, crouching at her side and pulling her hands away from her face. She jumps, frightened.

"I'm so sorry Sharon."

She pulls her hand away immediately, wipes her eyes. "No you're not babe. You haven't got a clue what being sorry's like."

"Alfie said you were upset... I came straight here." I perch on her desk. She just stares at me with her big eyes.

"What do you want Dennis, a medal? Course I'm upset. We go through absolutely everything again, and you're expecting me to be tap-dancing round Walford?"

"No, but... Sharon... it was gonna come up.... we both know...."

"We both know what Dennis?" she says, giving me a cold, defiant look.

And even I struggle over it. ".... that it's part of the past."

"Oh Jesus," she mutters, avoiding my eye as she drinks deeply from her glass. "You really are totally blind aren't you?"

"What?"

"You honestly think falling in love with you was easy Rickman? Because it wasn't. It was bloody hard, and sometimes I wish to God I hadn't let myself."

Fuck, that hurts.

"That's a lie, I know it is."

"Know that for a fact do you darlin'?"

"Yeah, I do. I know I made you happy."

She just glares at me and falls silent. I get up and pace along the floor, clasping my hands around the back of my head as I try and make sense of it all. 

"I just don't understand you Sharon." I admit after a while.

"Exactly. So how the hell do you reckon you understand how I felt?"

"Because I was there!" I reply, agitated.

She inclines her head. "And where are you now darlin'?"

I scowl. I won't think about Zoe. She's not what matters.

"I loved you Sharon. You know that don't you?"

"All the stuff we talked about Dennis, just imagine it. What if we had run off and got married eh? Dad would still have been here, he'd still have ripped us apart, so in the end, it wouldn't mean anything. I'd feel just as bad as I do now, just with another failed marriage thrown into the bargain. Do you think that's what I would have wanted?"

"I don't know. But I wasn't alone in that conversation Sharon. For Christ's sake, you wanted our child."

"So did you! "I'll leave that up to you." That's what you said! But Dennis, think about it."

I level with her gaze. "I'm always thinking about it;. I never stop."

"We'd still have been forced back in to it; all the brother and sister stuff, but there'd be some innocent child, just to remind everyone, to remind us, what we were. It wouldn't be fair."

"So what you're saying is that we should never have happened? It's a bit late for that Sharon... marriage and kids or not."

She nods as she gulps back more gin, her hands are shaking so much I think she'll spill it. As she finally manages to put it back onto the desk, she looks back at me, her eyes brimming with tears.

"I told you.... for God's sake... I told you... I didn't want a lover Dennis."

"I know you did. And I'm sorry, but it wouldn't have mattered. We would have happened."

"You reckon?" Her shoulders slope back as she laughs weakly.

I nod certainly. "I was in love with you Sharon. And I know that makes me a twisted bastard, but that's how it was. I'd have found a way to make us happen."

She nods too. "You're right, that does make you twisted."

I push my hands into my pockets, scrunching my hand into a fist. This isn't fair. It's like she's tainting everything.

"Remember though Sharon, you're the one who stopped me leaving the flat that night. You kissed me, not any other way sweetheart."

"I know."

"Then for fuck's sake, stop attacking me."

"I just wish you had an idea of how much this hurts. Having to walk in the kitchen in the mornings, and she's already there, having to take the kettle from you... having to touch you Dennis... it just kills me."

"Why?"

"Because of what it was. Because I was too weak to keep you. I thought I was stronger than this Dennis, I thought I'd be OK, I thought I was better than this!"

She's so worked up, I rush over to her and pull her into her arms. She doesn't protest, and I stroke her hair, feeling her shaking finally subside. "You are Sharon. You really are. It's me, that's all. Maybe you're right, maybe I can never change."

"Maybe."

She pulls back from me then, almost trying to block out my presence. Her hair is awry, and I can't seem to shake off the thought of how beautiful she is.

"Still," she says, trying to project an "it's-not-like-I-care" element into her voice. "There's not really much point in this anymore is there darlin', what's done is done, and-" she pauses, glancing briefly at me from under her thick lashes, and the back of my neck starts to tingle with desire. "-we are who we are."

And I can't seem to stop myself asking: "And who is that Sharon? Who exactly are we?"

"We're just a brother and a sister Dennis, that's all we are."

"That's rubbish." I hiss.

But she remains firm, looking me right in the face, determination flaring in her beautiful eyes, even though her tears are barely dry and her carefully applied mascara is still smudged. "We're brother and sister and we made a mistake, that's all."

I lean across her desk. "Really Sharon? See, I have a problem with that. Sleeping with me once darlin' and calling it a mistake, however much it hurt.... if you were still denying all this after that one time, maybe I could believe you. Having a relationship with me.... a mistake? No. Nah, I just don't believe you."

"Dennis, you don't get it do you? If I'd known I'd be back here, as your sister, I'd rather we'd never had the bloody relationship. It would be so much easier."

"For you maybe. But then I'd still be here, and I'd still be that twisted freak because I'd still want you."

She smiles briefly. "Well, at least we've seen to that now."

"Have we?"

"Dennis!" she sighs, refusing to look at me. "reality check darlin' - you.... you as in yourself, Dennis Rickman.... are shagging Zo....e Sla....ter. Have you got that?"

I ignore her. "Sharon?"

"What?"

"Tell me exactly when it was that you stopped caring."

"Stopped caring?"

"Yeah. See, I seem to remember a time when you told me you loved me and "nothing and no-one would change that." Only they have, and I want to know when?"

"I haven't stopped Dennis."

"Then tell me you love me."

"I told you I loved you, remember? I told you and you left me stood there. I told you I loved you.... I told you I couldn't have your child. So you moved in with Zoe, into our flat. You sleep with her in the same room that we-"

"No I don't." I cut in. "I can't."

She smiles at me. But there's a look in her eyes that says she doesn't believe me.

"We've been having trouble recently." I admit quietly.

"You don't think you taking off like you did caused a few of your problems Dennis? You had the cheek to blame me."

"Sharon, this isn't like that... Everything's so complicated."

"No it isn't. It's really simple if you think about it. You don't love her. You tried to make yourself do it, just to get away from me, but you don't want her Dennis."

I wait expectantly for her to tell me what my decision is.

"You want us."

"And what if I do eh? Sharon, you've pressed me for this. You told me I couldn't get away from it, so I stopped running."

Her lips flicker wickedly. "You pinned me against the wall. Remember?"

And I immediately think back to that moment, barely a week ago. Sharon, her hair swept up, her eyes glittering.

"Get out of my way Sharon."

"No Dennis, we've got unfinished business and I-"

"Sharon, get out of my way!"

And I had grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her against the wall, staring at her, wanting to be angry with her, but all I could see was how beautiful she was, how much she wanted me, and how much I wanted her. So I'd kissed her. Deeply, concentrating on the feeling of her soft lips against mine, taking in her perfect scent, realising that this was Sharon.

"I wanted to see you today Sharon, but I was working. So when I found you in The Vic, that look on your face.... and you started talking, telling me all about your life, all the blokes you've been with... I didn't want to hear it... I said so-"

"Are you jealous?"

"Are you jealous that I'm with Zoe?" I hit back straight away.

Her face clouds over and I chuckle.

 "Stupid question?"

"Dennis-"

"Sharon-" I tease, copying her tone. But she ignores me.

"You have to choose one darlin', and you have to make it work. And the whole reason this is so hard is because I was your sister. And now I know what it's like loving you... sleeping with you- and I'm pretty sure most sisters don't do it with their brothers-"

"Oh I dunno. Depends how close they are I s'pose."

"Dennis!" She giggles and her hair falls about her face. 

I smile too, crouching down in front of her and kissing her lightly on the mouth. "I adore you Sharon."

"Well that's good. Because I think you're-"

"Fantastic sex?"

She smiles broadly, her eyes twinkling. She reaches and runs the pad of her thumb along my cheekbone. "I think you're amazing. I mean, you drive me insane sometimes, but... even after everything....  you're like my best friend. I couldn't be without you."

I leave her sat in her office. I can feel her gaze burning into me as I move away, and it makes the muscles in my back twitch and tingle. Sometimes, I forget to eat, I don't sleep. I don't remember what everyday life is like anymore. I am so consumed by Sharon, everything she says and does. She is my life. I couldn't function without her. Not without throwing myself into an early grave due to effect of drink and drugs. And that would do me very little good. Because she'd be left alone, no-one to protect her, to love her like I do. Just the thought makes me so irrepressibly frustrated with myself. I could never do that to her, so my only other option is to show her what she means to me.

It's nearing half four as I head out of Walford, the inky blanket of a winter's night holding the place in a tight embrace, the December moon out, shining, pulsing against the sky. I arrive back in the tube station by half six, squinting against the harsh artificial light as I rocket down the steps. But suddenly, as the station and Walford merge into one.... one being the border to the other, I stop. I stood here, April of last year, shaking like mad. Looking around me, this new life, the ink barely dry as my latest conviction was scratched onto my well-read police record, wondering if I could do this. If I could force myself into a family life. I still wonder that now, as I stand looking out on the same view. But now I wonder how family life will ever work again when I'm in love with the woman introduced to me as my sister.

How is it, that the woman that looked across at me over my mother's grave, the woman who had disgust and uncertainity etched in her face as she finally realised that this was me, for all my crimes and my punishments; that this was her brother; just how it is that she is the only woman I have learned to love? How is it that she is the woman that I want to bear my children? How is that she.... that she is the woman I want to marry? How is it that I can't live without her? How is it, that even though I've tried to move on, that it is Sharon's face I see at night, that the only way I don't go crazy and start climbing the walls is by remembering how it feels to make love to her?

I didn't expect to be be gone so long. But my decision was hard. Guess I shouldn't have made it alone, could have done with some female influence, but who could I have asked eh? What would they have thought, said?

No, I'll be OK, I assure myself, smile. It feels right, so it is.

I take out my phone, scroll straight down to Sharon's number.

"Can you meet me?"

"W- where?" she asks immediately.

"Well, where are you?"

"I'm at home."

"Then I'll be outside."

I click my phone shut, push it back into my pocket as I stride across the Square. I settle myself on the step leading up to the house, lighting a fag and breathing in the calming evils it emits. I look quickly up at the window of the house. The lights are visible even through Chrissie's expensive netting and thick curtains. 

I hear someone quickly and quietly pull on the latch of the door, a Stiletto heel scrape across the damp concrete of the stairwell. I sigh contently, expelling more clouds from my mouth. I relax in the knowledge it must be Sharon as someone settles themselves next to me. A flash of a golden mane falls into my eyeline.

"Dennis?"

I don't greet her in any way. I just continue to concentrate on consuming the comforts of my cigarette, until finally it is no more than a flickering stub and I quash it it the stair.

"Today was the weirdest conversation of my life y'know Sharon."

"Hmmm. Me too."

"Yet I feel like I'd still have known more about you if you hadn't told me."

"Maybe you would have done," she answers quietly, no confidence, and no emotion as yet present in her words.

"Tell me, what was really on your mind today?"

She sighs, her breath visible, hovering in a little cloud inches from her mouth. "Everything I suppose. Wondering how I could have gone through everything; with Grant... with Phil, Tom... with"

"Me-"

Sharon inclines her head, accepting my words with a weak yet gracious smile. "Yeah Dennis- you. How I can have had so many relationships, have wanted so much from each of them and yet come away with nothing? Nothing besides remembering the end anyway."

"I don't know. Maybe none of us knew what we'd be missing."

"You know now though don't you Dennis? So c'mon darlin', tell me, was it worth it?"

"Was what worth it?"

"Us. Were we worth it now you know that for everything we had we'd be back here?"

"Back here?"

"Strolling down memory lane, making sure we keep our voices down, scared to look at each other for too long in case someone gets the wrong idea-"

"Andy's wedding; do you remember that?" I ask her, wanting to block out th harsh reality of her words.

I do. The night before, as I said the words, tried to convince myself I could commit to Zoe, we both knew it was Sharon's bed I was perched on in the middle of the night. And we both remember that it was Sharon I kissed goodnight. Not an innocent brotherly kiss either. It started out like that, like I was testing myself, see if I could do it. But I couldn't. My thirst for her lips was too strong.

Sharon nods, sheepish. "I was so drunk."

"How drunk?"

"Drunk enough for you to drag me outside as I remember."

"That's right. And do you remember what I said to you?"

"You said-" she pauses, looking pointedly at me before taking in a deep breath of air and then averting her gaze once more, "that if I wanted you back, all I had to do was say and you'd be back at my side-"

"-Like that." I finish, clicking my fingers. "And you told me you were drunk, that you didn't know what you were saying. That's not what I wanted to hear Sharon. I wanted you to give me a second chance, I wanted to get us right,"

Gently, she tosses her hair away from her face. "What do you want now?"

"Me? I just want to remember all the things we said to each other and believe that we could have gotten some good out of them, that's all."

"We were in love then. It doesn't mean the same now as it did then."

"Doesn't it? Sharon, it doesn't matter what I do- or whatever you try - I'm not going to stop being in love with you. I won't stop because I don't believe that loving anyone else would come close to me and you darlin'."

She rubs her hands up her arms to try and stay warm.

"Are you cold?"

"Just a bit," she admits, her long hair flying about her flawless face. 

I peel off my jacket and hook it over her shoulders. She tries to shrug it off, but I remain firm. "Keep it."

"Dennis," she says after a while, obviously growing uncomfortable as I continue to gaze at her, "why did you call?"

Not saying a word, I pull the little box from my pocket. My heart's hammering so bad as I hand it to her. God knows why I'm so panicked, it's not like this'll be for real or anything, but this is going to be the closest I'll ever get. The decision to try and do this was hard enough on its own, but talking to Sharon today, about us, I realised I needed to do this, just to know what it would feel like.

She stares at the simple diamond, set into a band of white gold. It glitters perfectly. Sharon's mouth gapes open like even if she knew the words to say at this moment, she wouldn't know how to form them.

But finally, she breaks the silence with a soft words. "Darlin', what is this?"

Nervous, I fidget like a child as I speak, avoiding her eye and liting myself by just a fraction from the cold stone step and sitting on my hands.

"Well, I er, I think I heard somewhere that when people fall in love with each other, the next step is to get engaged. So I suppose you could say I'm asking you to marry me."

She smiles, completely and utterly bewildered. "Have you, er... got a couple of pages of your diary stuck together or something? Zoe lives back there Dennis." she mutters, lifting her eyes to the general direction of Bridge Street, and from there, Turpin Road. "I'm not the one you're seeing anymore remember?"

But I ignore her, fix my gaze on the ring as it jiggles about in Sharon's shaking grasp. "Don't try and understand this Sharon. Not even I do. I know we just-" I curl my hand into an aggravated little fist and silenty curse the injustice that all this can ever be is pretend. "Just think about us. Think about how we talked today... think of all the things we said-"

"I don't understand."

"OK-" I prise the ring box from her hands, which seems to open like a flower, allowing me to take it. "Close your eyes."

"Dennis-"

"Do it!" I command softly.

Thankfully, she obliges. Hesistantly, I lean over and kiss her, rushing my tongue along her lower lip. She parts her lips a fraction, tightening her grip on my forearm as she answers me. Deeply, intesenely; everything Sharon and me are about. As we pull back from each other, her eyes flutter closed as she savours it. She doesn't say a word to object.

"Remember that Sharon. Remember how good its always felt."

It's a statement rather than a question, but she responds with a distracted. "Hmmm?"

"D-Don't think about anyone else darlin'. Just remember today."

She opens her eyes a little, a soft smile gracing her lips. She wants to reach across and touch me, her gentle fingers poised.

"Close your eyes!"

"Dennis! I don't understand.... what's this all about?" she cries, exasperated as she gestures towards the ring. Then she clocks my stern gaze and closes her eyes.

"For this to work Sharon, me and you... we need a perfect world. We won't ever get one y'know. There'll always be Den, there'll always be-"

"Pauline Fowler?" Sharon quips, giggling.

"Hmmm. But there'll always be us too. And I know we wanted this. And I kn-know it'll never happen. But maybe I need to know what it feels like."

"Know what what feels like?"

"This." I murmur quietly, showing her the box. "I know we'll never get married darlin', bu-but God, I want you so much and I've never wanted anything like this in my life."

"I know. I know. But if you know that angel, what's the ring for?"

"It's yours."

"But why?"

"Because I want this with you Sharon. Just wear it." I tweeze it out of the box. "Please?"

And I take her hand, slipping it onto her engagement finger. 

"There."

She admires it, tears glistening. When she sees me watching her, she laughs in spite of herself and wipes her tears away. She places her cold palm against my cheek, yet all I feel at her touch is an indescribable warmth, a happiness I'll never experience with anyone else.

"If I could have... I'd have said yes y'know."

I close my eyes, try not to hold her gaze. Because what if she was right, what if we had married, and were still sat here.... apart? What would have been the use of tarnishing memories with my own stupidity?

"Maybe it's best you couldn't. I-I'm not right for you."

"Like that stopped me."

"You'll still think good of me won't you?" I question, biting back my own emotion.

"When darlin'?"

"When I fuck up next. When I hurt you again. Because I will Sharon. I don't want to, and I'll try so hard, but I can't seem to stop myself-"

She nibbles her lip but looks me right in the face. She knows me well. She knows already. "But you love me right?"

I incline my head sincerely. "Always."

"Then I forgive you."

"But, everything-"

She presses her thumb to my lips. "Don't mention it. We talked it through didn't we? All of it." Tentatively, her icy lips brush my cheek, then she gets up, beating down the dampness of her clothing. I lift up my hand and she clasps it, helping me to my feet. But she doesn't drop my hand, and we stand there, in a complimentary silence.

She speaks first.

"Dennis... I don't know how... but if this... if we're meant darlin'-"

"Yes?"

But she sighs, frustrated. She looks away from me, contemplating her next words. I expectantly watch her and when she meets my eye again, she smiles and nestles against me. Instinctively I draw her close and I rock her gently.

"-then somehow.... we'll find our way back...."

"Promise?"

"I promise."