“And is that the decision of you all?” Vincent turned slowly and looked around the crowded chamber.  Most of the heads were bowed in embarrassment; quite possibly shame even, that it had come to this, and that the strongest voices had been victorious in making the decision that they must know would have long term ramifications upon Vincent’s life.  Mary, her face a picture of misery, looked pleadingly at Father, but he, too, seemed unable to face his son; rather staring resolutely at nothing, his brows furrowed in anxiety.

When there was no reply, Vincent spoke again, and no one could have missed the controlled anger in his voice. “Have you lost your voices? You did not hesitate to pass judgment on myself and Catherine only moments ago.”

“Not you…just…”

“Just Catherine.” Vincent finished the sentence for Andreas. “But you all know that when you insult Catherine, you insult me also. When you hurt her…you hurt me.”

“No one wants to hurt you, Vincent,” Olivia spoke up bravely.

Vincent squared his shoulders, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to quell the tide of fury within him before it exploded into something none of them would ever forget. Everyone watched in silence as he took a step towards the exit, then without turning to look at them he said, “You have made yourselves very clear…and I will say nothing more on the subject.”

“But Vincent…”

“No!” He whirled around so quickly that his hair whipped across his face.  “You have made your decision…now I will make mine!” He strode from the chamber leaving everyone looking at each other uncomfortably. Father slumped forward at his desk, covering his face with his hands.

“You have to go to him, Father,” Mary urged, “he’s terribly upset.”

“Dear God, of course he’s upset! What did you expect?” A low murmur of voices erupted in the chamber; accusations and recriminations already rife, at the unsatisfactory outcome of the extraordinary Council Meeting.

“We had to tell him,” Cullen shouted defensively, from the back of the room. “You all know we did. Everyone agreed that Catherine’s coming down here continually had to be stopped. She’s gotten careless. First it was the boy from Above…Brian. Now Elliot Burch has been brought below…”

“That was completely different, as you well know!” Father shouted, thumping his fist on the desk. “Catherine and Burch were merely sheltering from danger. He had no idea where he was; she simply showed him the way out when it was safe to do so.”

“Still…each occasion is a breach of security. Her visits are a danger to us all.” 

At this, Father pushed to his feet as quickly as he was able, and glared at the carpenter. “Her visits have also brought comfort and help to an awful lot of us. Must we dismiss that completely?”

“You obviously didn’t, Father,” called a relatively new member of the community, whose judgment until now had appeared to be sound and intelligent. “You had the deciding vote on banning Catherine from the tunnels and you let us down.”

Father seldom lost his temper, but now he raised his cane and slammed it down on the top of his desk, making everyone jump. “Well, if I let you down then I apologise!” he shouted, sounding as if he was anything but sorry. “Forgive me for not wanting to be one to stab my son in the heart!”

“Oh, come on, Father,” Rueben responded, “don’t you think that’s a little over-reaction? Vincent’s relationship with Catherine is just too dangerous.  He should end it now, before things get totally out of control.”  He held up his hands and looked around the room for support. “Vincent’s not the only one down here, after all. It’s our home too, and we don’t have the same defences he does. He’ll get over it.”

“Oh, you think so, do you?” Father’s voice was colder than it had ever been before. “Well, I hope you’re right, but I seriously doubt it. I agreed to hold this meeting in view of the recent incidents involving Catherine’s apparent carelessness in using the Park entrance, but I did NOT agree to a witch-hunt.”

“If she really loved Vincent, she’d just come right on down here and live with him,” someone shouted, “but she doesn’t. Her precious job and her uptown friends are more important to her than he is. Maybe this will teach her a lesson.” 

Father’s eyes glittered with rage. “You know nothing. You have absolutely no idea what you have done here this evening.”  He moved out from behind his desk and leaned heavily on his cane as if he was suddenly terribly weary. “I hope you never have cause to regret this decision.”

Ignoring calls for him to stay, he walked slowly from the chamber, pursued by Mary, who took his arm. Her voice shook when she spoke. “They should never have said what they did.”

“No, they shouldn’t.”

“You’ll go to Vincent?”

“Yes.”

“Shall I come with you?”

“No. Thank you, but…no.” 

She nodded in understanding and they walked the rest of the way in silence. When they reached Mary’s chamber, she squeezed Jacob’s arm before withdrawing her own.

“I’ll be here if either of you need me.”

“I know. Thank you, Mary.”

Father moved off down the passageway towards Vincent’s chamber.

***

Alone with his fury, Vincent paced his chamber restlessly, unsure what to do. He prayed Catherine wouldn’t feel his turbulent emotions and come racing down to find him. Their bond was such now that she could sense his strongest emotions quite easily, and although it pleased him in some ways, it disturbed him in others. She was so headstrong, he was afraid she would do something reckless if she was worried about him. He’d made her promise she wouldn’t ever put either herself or her job at risk, purely to find out what was troubling him. He’d made her promise all right, but he was well aware she’d stop at nothing if she thought he needed her. It was just such an eventuality that had led to this terrible moment.

He’d been working on a rupture in one of the walls near the Chamber of the Winds, when an ominous rumbling had heralded a much-feared occurrence in the labyrinths below the city streets. A rock fall. Vincent and his small party of three other men had sped to shelter, but as they ran, one of the men had tripped and fallen, twisting his ankle badly. Hearing his yell of pain, Vincent had turned around and ran back to help, just as the first rocks began to rain down on the area. Knowing there was no time to lift the man and carry him to safety, Vincent had protected his friend with his body and been battered with rocks. His thick clothing had shielded him from anything worse than bruising, apart from one injury to his head. Although he’d felt a sharp pain at first, he’d tried to ignore it, and when it seemed it was finally safe to move, he’d helped the man back to where the others watched anxiously and they’d all made their way back home. Vincent had thought the ensuing headache which became much worse during the evening, was only to be expected in the circumstances, but when his co-ordination began to waver and he kept falling asleep over the chess game with Father, the latter became concerned, and upon examination, it was revealed that Vincent had, in fact, suffered quite a serious concussion.

Catherine had arrived less than hour after the incident, out of breath and frantic with worry, having fled from a business meeting, jumped into a taxi, and run full tilt through the park and into the tunnel entrance without the caution she’d been trained to employ.

Unfortunately, a trio of young men using an area close to the entrance to snort cocaine spotted Catherine and decided to follow her. The intruders were soon detected and the alert went out over the pipes, but since Vincent was unable to get to the surface, it was fortunate for everyone that Kanin, Andreas, Cullen, and Matthew were able to locate the men and prevent what might have been a disaster.

Catherine had been reminded that security was the most fundamental element of the tunnel system and she had apologised, explaining that it was only her anxiety for Vincent that had caused her to be less vigilant than usual.

Sadly, this incident was only the first in a series of security breaches involving Catherine, and Vincent was at a loss to know how to deal with the understandable anger of his family and friends. Another day, she had been so excited about a case she had successfully prosecuted; ridding the city of one of the most infamous drug dealers in New York; that she had literally run through the streets, pausing only to buy roses for Vincent and a bottle of wine for them to share, and yet again, headed straight for the park entrance to the tunnels in the late afternoon summer sunlight. Vincent had endured the lectures he’d received later, and although her excitement had been infectious, it had worried him that she had again forgotten how vulnerable their world was and how easy it would be to invade it.

The next evening he’d cautioned her, firmly but gently, and she’d promised to be more careful, explaining tearfully that she didn’t know how she could possibly have been so careless. It had distressed Vincent terribly to see Catherine so upset, and he would have given anything to take back the rebuke, but he did, after all, have a responsibility to his family, his friends and even himself. Taking her in his arms, he’d held her, whispering comforting words into her hair as she’d sniffed miserably against his chest.

They had decided it would be better not to use the park entrance again unless it was unavoidable, but still two more incidents had followed, and a Council Meeting had been called to establish how to handle the problem.

Never had Vincent imagined for one moment that Catherine would be banned from visiting the tunnels.

 ***

He heard a footstep in the doorway to his chamber and glanced up to see his father. Leaning on his cane a little more heavily than usual, Jacob moved into the room then stopped dead.

“What are you doing?”

“Packing.”

“Packing? For what? What’s this about, Vincent?”

“You know exactly what it’s about, Father. And I am packing because I am leaving.” Vincent’s voice was harsh, tinged with a bitterness he’d never felt in his life before. 

The old man hurried forward and stared at the battered valise into which Vincent was stuffing clothes and treasured possessions. “Leaving? Have you lost your mind? You know you can’t possibly leave these tunnels.  Vincent, I know you’re upset…understandably, but…”

“I am leaving and there’s an end to it. There is nothing you can say that could make me stay after what has happened here this evening.”

“Vincent, please! “ Father gripped Vincent’s arm desperately, preventing him from dropping the first edition volume of Tennyson into the bag.  “You’re not thinking clearly. You know you can’t live anywhere but here.  Just calm down for a moment and let’s talk, just you and I.” 

But Vincent whirled furiously to face his father. Bracing his arms on the desk, he leaned forward and glared at Jacob. He spoke very deliberately and slowly. “I do not wish to talk. I do not wish to discuss anything with you.”  He flung out an arm in the general direction of Father’s study.  “Those people…my family…” He spat out the word almost in revulsion,  “…have passed a sentence on Catherine and myself which I will never accept. If she is not welcome in this place I call my home, then neither am I.” Shaking with fury, he turned his back on Jacob and resumed packing.

“I-I don’t know what to say, Vincent.”

“Then say nothing.”

“I tried not to let this get out of hand, but mine was not the voice they wanted to listen to today.”  He slumped down in a chair and stared unseeingly across the room. “Oh, dear God, has it come to this then? That I raised you and watched you grow…feared for you and protected you… educated and loved you all these years, only to lose you because of an emotive decision taken by some frightened and rather selfish people?  Vincent, I’m begging you…please don’t do this.”

Vincent hesitated, took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, fighting to calm his ragged emotions. Turning back to Jacob he softened his voice. “Father, I know you tried to stop this. I know how much you love me and how this is hurting you. But I am hurting too…so much that I feel as if my heart has been torn from my body. I have to leave. But please know that I do not blame you…I love you now as I have always loved you…as I always will.” He held out his arms and pulled Jacob gently to his feet. “Do not make this any harder for either of us than it already is.”

The two men embraced, each feeling the trembling in the other, and neither was able to speak for several seconds. Eventually Father pulled away and rubbed a hand over his eyes.

“Where will you go? To Catherine?”

“If she will have me.”

“And if she won’t?”

Vincent swallowed hard and wondered if the painful ache in his chest would ever leave him. “Then I will find somewhere else. Try not to worry Father…I will be all right. I will survive.” 

Unable to speak further, Father shook his head and squeezed Vincent’s arm.  Then he reached for his cane and walked unsteadily from the room.

With tears sliding down his velvet cheeks, Vincent watched him go, unsure if he’d ever see his father again.

***

Humming a popular song, Catherine moved around her bedroom. She reached for a pair of jeans, then changed her mind. Vincent preferred her in dresses. Smiling, she selected a simple, figure-hugging long-sleeved creation in midnight blue. It showed her knees but had a high neck;  mustn’t frighten Vincent with a glimpse of thigh and cleavage, all in one evening. There was such a thing as being too obvious.

She sat down to stroke on a touch of lipstick, but as she began to brush her hair, she suddenly gasped as she became aware of an intense emotion in Vincent. It startled her and her hand went to her throat as she tried to imagine what could possibly have got him so upset. He should already be on his way. Catherine’s side of the bond had strengthened considerably in recent months, but she wasn’t quite as attuned to him as he was to her, and probably never would be, so she couldn’t clarify exactly what he was feeling; only that his emotions were powerful. She glanced at her watch.  Nine thirty. He was due at ten. There was really no point in rushing Below to find him; she somehow knew he wasn’t injured or sick; and in any case, she’d gotten herself in a lot of trouble recently by going Below unannounced and not paying attention to security the way she should have;  the way she had for the last three years. She’d become careless lately and Vincent, quite rightly, had warned her that she needed to be much more careful.

Catherine paced around the apartment, worrying and wishing Vincent would come. It was awful to know he was so distressed and yet not know the reason. She hoped Father wasn’t sick…or Mary. As they grew older, Vincent worried about them, she knew.

At five minutes to ten Catherine saw a shadow on the balcony, approaching the French doors. Before he could tap, she ran to open them, scanning his face for a clue as to what was wrong. At first she didn’t notice the bag that hung from his hand, but when she did, she looked up at him questioningly.

“What’s happened, Vincent?” It was the first time for over two and a half years that they hadn’t moved into each other’s arms on sight. Vincent’s fierce features, always softened with Catherine’s physical presence, were inscrutable tonight. Something was very wrong indeed.

“I’ve left home,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m never going back. Could I…could I stay here tonight…if it’s not inconvenient?”

Catherine couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d said he was going to dance naked on the tables in Planet Hollywood. Her mouth moved but nothing came out when she tried to ask him to explain. He dropped the bag on the floor and turned to look out over the city.  His shoulders lifted as he inhaled.

Catherine crossed to his side, and, knowing he wouldn’t let her fall, hoisted herself up to sit on the brick wall, facing him. At first he didn’t look at her, so she turned his face towards her and rested her hands on his shoulders.

“Tell me,” she said, gently. It almost broke her heart to see tears fill his eyes and he dropped his head on her shoulder in a gesture of defeat.  Cradling him, Catherine stroked his back. “Has someone…died? Is it Father? Is he sick? Vincent, you have to tell me!” 

He shook his head beneath her hand and eased himself upright again, blinking back the tears. “No. Father is fine. Catherine, forgive me. I had no right to worry you like that. I just…for a moment I…” He covered his eyes with one hand for a moment while he attempted to control his emotions.

“Vincent,” Catherine said, gripping his upper arm, “If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I’m going to go Below and find out for myself!”

“NO!” He almost shouted, and fixed her with such a steely glare that Catherine almost drew back in fear. “You will not go Below…tonight or…any other night.” His voice suddenly dropped to a husky whisper.“And neither will I.”  

Catherine was shocked.  What did he mean? “Vincent, what are you talking about? Of course you’ll go Below again; it’s where you live…”

“Not any more!”

“What do you mean? Tell me what’s happened!” 

Vincent whirled away and began striding around the terrace, his face like thunder. “I cannot tell you, so please…do not ask me again. Just know that I shall not return to the tunnels. If I may stay here tonight…possibly longer… it will give me time to think. I need to plan my future.” 

Catherine jumped off the wall and marched up to stand right in front of him. “Now listen to me, Vincent.  I don’t know what the hell’s happened down there, but it’s your home and it’s the only place you can live in peace with people who love you…”

“No more!”

“WHY?”

“I cannot tell you!” Vincent twisted away again and she heard the roar building in his throat. But he couldn’t give vent to his feelings that way…not here..not now, where someone in the apartment block would hear him and call the police. She had to calm him…fast.

“Vincent, take it easy. Look, I’m sorry if it seems like I’m on your back about this, but I’m just so worried for you! Please…you have to tell me why you’re so upset.” She rubbed his arm in the hope of diffusing his anger.  She hadn’t seen him in this state since the intruders had taken up residence in the tunnels and killed Randolph.

The ominous sound he was making changed to a full-throated “N-O-O-O!” and suddenly, he lifted his right arm and brought his fist crashing down against the wall of the building, dislodging two bricks and the surrounding mortar. Catherine half screamed and jumped backwards, but Vincent’s low grunt of pain immediately overcame her apprehension and she sprang to his aid, as blood dripped from the torn, broken flesh of his hand.

“My God, Vincent, what have you done! You’ve probably broken every bone in your hand! For Heaven’s sake come inside!” This time he didn’t try to argue; just gritted his teeth against the pain and, cradling his injured hand against his chest, allowed Catherine to lead him inside.  She propelled him towards the kitchen and turned on the faucet.

“Can you bear to hold it under the water, Vincent?” Sucking in his breath, he extended his arm but found he had to support it with the other. When he tried to uncurl his fingers, the pain was excruciating, and they hung limply, battered and broken. Tiny chips of mortar fell from the wound, although others seemed to be embedded in the flesh.

“Oh my God…oh my God!” Catherine  whimpered, then pulled herself together in order to help Vincent. “Look, I’m going to call Peter…you need a doctor.” Vincent made no reply. It was very obvious he was in agony and still alarmingly distressed by everything that had happened. It wouldn’t have helped, Catherine knew, that this was his own fault; his emotions raging out of control that had caused this. He  leaned against the counter, suddenly very pale. Catherine quickly pulled a stool over to the sink.

“Sit down Vincent.” He obeyed, and she put an arm around his shoulders.   “Are you feeling okay?”

“My stomach is churning,” he managed, shakily.

“I’m not surprised…it’ll be shock as much as the pain. Breathe deeply…try to relax.”  Catherine gently rubbed his shoulders, watching him carefully as he filled his lungs and exhaled slowly. He was still wearing his cloak and she knew he must be hot inside the apartment, but she didn’t want to make him move around until his stomach settled. After a few minutes, Catherine leaned forward to see his expression.

“Will you be okay for a moment if I go call Peter?” He nodded and she went into the living room. When she heard her old friend’s voice, she slumped gratefully onto the arm of the couch, explaining as briefly as possible that Vincent had been hurt and needed medical attention. To Catherine’s profound relief, he agreed to come immediately, and she returned to the kitchen. Vincent was still sitting at the sink with his arm resting on the counter, cold water streaming over his bloodied hand.

“He’ll be here in about fifteen minutes. You okay?” He nodded but made no reply and Catherine knew he must be torturing himself over the whole avoidable incident. He would be taking it as yet another sign that his differentness…his inhumanity, as he saw it…had resulted in this latest drama. She would have her work cut out for her tonight, trying to re-thread his tattered emotions and provide a haven for his physical and mental healing. And she still didn’t know what the hell had happened to cause this overflow in his delicately balanced psyche.

When Peter arrived, he took one look at Vincent and quickly took charge, disinfecting and binding Vincent’s hand securely to give him the best support and comfort. The bandage extended halfway up his forearm and when it was in place, he helped Vincent off with his cloak.

“I assume you’ll be staying here for a while?”

“I will be staying indefinitely.” 

Peter’s eyes raised at that, and he glanced at Catherine, who gave a small shrug. “Vincent feels he needs a little space right now,” she said in as casual a tone as she could muster. “He’s welcome to stay as long as he likes.”

Peter apparently decided not to pursue what was obviously a delicate subject. “I see. Well, that’s fine. Vincent, I know that hand must be very painful. I have some pills here which I think you might be able to tolerate without any ah…unpleasant side effects; something new..herbal based. I’ll leave you some.”

“Thank you.”  

Peter shrugged on his coat and prepared to leave. “Do you um, want me to contact Jacob…give him a message or anything?”

“No. He knows where I am.”  

Again, Peter looked to Catherine for some kind of clue as to what was going on. She turned briefly to Vincent. “I’m going to see Peter out.  I’ll be right back, okay?”

At the street door, Catherine hissed urgently to the doctor. “Vincent arrived in a terrible state tonight, Peter; he says he’s left home! Do you know what’s happened? I just can’t get out of him what’s wrong.” 

Peter shook his head worriedly. “It’s not my place to comment, Cathy. All I know is, there was to be some kind of meeting Below about…security. I can only assume it did not go to Vincent’s liking. I’m sorry but you’ll have to ask him if you want to know more.”

“Well, of course I want to know more!  I can’t bear to see him so distressed!”  

Peter opened the door and stepped outside.

“Well, I wish you luck. That hand’s going to hurt like hell and the whole thing’s probably shaken him up quite badly, but you know Vincent; he won’t complain. Try and get him to take some of those pills. On second thought, try and get him to take a drink…anything that will get him to relax a little. If you need me, just call, but if anyone can handle him, it’s you.”  He put a finger under her chin, and Catherine rewarded him with a worried smile.

“We’ll be okay. Thanks for coming so quickly Peter.”

Returning to the kitchen, Catherine held out her hand to Vincent. “Come in the living room. You really need to relax, Vincent.” He stood up and took her hand, following her, almost robot-like. She bent to plump some cushions on one of the twin couches.

“There you go. Make yourself comfortable. Maybe you should put your feet up.”

“No…thank you.” He sat down and rested his injured hand on the arm of the couch. Then he leaned his head back, and with a sigh, closed his eyes.  Catherine stared down at him and chewed her lip. He looked terrible; so unhappy, with lines of exhaustion and pain tightening his face.

“I’ll make us some hot tea.” 

Back in the kitchen, Catherine busied herself boiling water and setting out mugs with teabags. She was desperately worried about Vincent, but knew she wouldn’t be able to question him further tonight. She thought about what Peter had said. A meeting about security? What could that mean? As she waited for the kettle to boil she thought back over the last few months.  She couldn’t recall any major incident, yet she had the feeling Peter had been hinting at something. Catherine wracked her brains to think what it could all mean. Most of the time Vincent was the most patient, placid and open-hearted person she knew, and the only things that disturbed him sufficiently to lose his temper the way he had tonight, were cruelty and violence; someone vulnerable being threatened…or…and then Catherine shuddered…someone he loved being unfairly treated. Was it possible that something had happened Below which had involved her? Something to which Vincent had taken exception? It would account for his refusal to discuss what was wrong. The more Catherine thought about it the more worried she became; and the more convinced she was on the right track.

Returning to the living room, she sat down beside Vincent and handed him a mug of tea.

He roused himself and took a few sips. “This is unusually sweet,” he commented.

“It’s good for shock.”

“I am not in shock.”

“Well I am. You really scared me tonight, Vincent. Not for myself…” she added quickly, knowing that he would probably misinterpret her words and believe that his temper had frightened her. “For you. I can’t bear to see you like this, and now, oh Vincent, your poor hand…” She looked across at his bandaged limb and felt tears stinging the backs of her eyes.

“Do not worry about me, Catherine,” he said softly, his voice at last sounding like his own for the first time since he arrived. “It will soon heal.” 

Catherine reached out and tenderly stroked his bangs back from his forehead. “How are you feeling now?”

“Better, thank you. Just tired.”

“You look exhausted. Why don’t you lie down?”

But Vincent shook his head wearily. “I do not think I could sleep. My mind is too full.”  

And I just bet you’re already regretting saying that, in case I start in on you again, Catherine thought. Don’t worry, Vincent; I’ll find out what this is all about, but I won’t put you through any more heartache.

They drank their tea without engaging in further conversation, and Catherine wondered how she would persuade Vincent to take her bed that night. The tiny two seater, twin couches that graced her living room were far too small to accommodate a man of his size and it was important that his arm was supported while he slept. She had no doubt, however, that Vincent would refuse point blank to allow her to sleep anywhere other than in her own bed. He would see his visit as an intrusion and himself as an inconvenience…not exactly how Catherine would put it. While she wished with all her heart that the circumstances were different, she loved having him in her home.

She put a CD in the player; a gentle, instrumental collection of easy-listening music which, at low volume, she hoped would help Vincent to relax. He remained subdued for the rest of the evening, reluctant to talk, yet apparently unable to sleep either. He hardly moved; simply sat, one leg stretched out, the other bent; his left hand resting on his thigh. With his head tilted back and his eyes closed, he looked more relaxed than he really was. Catherine tried to feign interest in various magazines, turning the pages quietly so as not to disturb him, but she kept sneaking glances at Vincent. She could only imagine what must be going through his head, and decided to make an unscheduled visit Below, the next day, to find out once and for all exactly what had happened, and what role, if any, she played in the drama.

At 11.15 pm Catherine decided to broach the subject of going to bed. “Vincent,” she began, armed and prepared to defeat all his arguments, “I think we should both get some sleep. I have to work tomorrow and you really need to rest.” 

He turned to look at her. “You are quite right. Goodnight, Catherine.”  

Oh-oh, here we go. “Vincent, I want you to sleep in my bed, and I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“I’m afraid you will have to. I will sleep here.” 

Catherine stood up and adopted a rebellious pose, arms crossed as she stared down at him. “Now listen to me. You need to be comfortable to get as much sleep as possible, and your arm needs to be supported.”

“I will be all right. Remember, Catherine, I hope to impose on you for more than one night…do you really believe I would allow you to give up your bed for me?” 

She grinned at this. “Well, maybe not, when your hand is healed, but until then, you will take the bed, Vincent.”

“I will not.”

“Okay,” Catherine said brightly. “Then I’ll sleep out here with you, on the other couch.”

“You most certainly will not!”

“Hey, it’s my apartment and I think I can sleep exactly where I choose, don’t you?” 

Vincent’s expression was one of a man who knew he had been defeated by a superior adversary in battle. However, to Catherine’s surprise, Vincent had not yet quite conceded the war. “Maybe we could share the bed.”

If he’d suggested they both get butt naked and run through Central Park at lunch time, Catherine couldn’t have been more astonished.

“Well, sure, I’d love that…I – I mean that’s…”

“I…I do not mean in an…intimate way,” he amended hastily.

“Now don’t spoil it, Vincent.” She smiled. “I know what you mean and that’s just fine with me.” She held out her hand to him and he took it, pushing to his feet with his first attempt at a smile that night. She led him through to the bedroom and he stared at the double bed with its two blue satin pillows and inviting quilt. Catherine knew, like her,  he was thinking of another time when they had looked at a bed together; a time when they had decorated Olivia and Kanin’s chamber with fresh lilacs and each had sensed in the other a yearning they never verbalised. 

Catherine  broke the tension, adopting a light tone. “Shall I get your bag for you? Is there anything in there you want to change into, to sleep?”

“Ah…no, I prefer to remain as I am.”

“Whatever you want, Vincent. But I’ll  get your bag for you anyway…just in case.” She left the room before he could stop her, partly to let him collect his thoughts and partly in the genuine belief that there was probably stuff in his bag that he would want. 

Catherine brought it back into the bedroom and put it down on the bed.   Then she set the bottle of pain-killers on the bedside table. Vincent had been simply staring at the floor between his feet, but looked up as she approached, and her heart missed a beat at what she saw. He’d removed his grey quilted vest and undone two laces on his chambray shirt. His hair was obscuring any tantalising glimpse of chest hair that might otherwise have been visible, but the look on his face was spellbinding. The deep-set blue eyes looked impossibly bright against his still pale skin, but it was his expression of vulnerability that made her want to hold him tight and never let him go.  He looked so lost.

“Catherine,” he entreated softly, “would you help me remove my boots?” 

Instantly she was on the floor in front of him. “Of course I will.” He lifted his left leg and she tugged the boot off, then repeated the process. “There you go. Now, is there anything I can get you before we go to bed…ah, I mean…sleep. Would you like a hot drink to help you sleep?” They’d had one not long before and Vincent shook his head.

“No, thank you.”

“Okay then, I’ll just go in the bathroom. Be right back.”

While Catherine was brushing her teeth, it occurred to her that Vincent might very well need help, but getting him to accept it probably wouldn’t be easy. When she returned to the bedroom, she found him laying on his back on top of the bed.

“Okay, your turn. I’ve left the cap off the toothpaste for you. Don’t bother trying to get it back on.”He rose and walked towards the door.

“Will you promise to call me if you need any help with anything?”

“I’m sure I will be able to manage.”

“But if you can’t…just don’t be shy and stubborn, okay? I love you, Vincent, and I’m here for you. I’ll do anything you need me to do…you do know that, don’t you?”  

At this, he tilted his head endearingly. “Oh, yes, I do know that, Catherine.  Thank you.”

He didn’t call her, of course. She hadn’t expected him to, and she hated herself for the visual images she was creating in her head, as to how he was managing all his personal needs.

She was in bed wearing a chaste cotton night-shirt when he walked back into the bedroom. The ends of his hair were wet and Catherine guessed it had fallen forward as he brushed his teeth. You darling idiot. I’d have held it back for you. His face looked tight with pain. He sat down on top of the bed and then lay back, looking about as relaxed as a ridge pole. There was maybe a foot between them that, to Catherine, felt like The Grand Canyon.   Reasoning that since she was beneath the covers and he was on top and couldn’t possibly feel threatened by their proximity, she inched closer. She stroked his hair back from his face and laid a hand lightly on his chest. He was so tense he was hardly breathing. Catherine wasn’t sure if it was because he was in pain; because of his distressed condition, or because of the unusually intimate situation in which they’d found themselves..

“Your hand must be agony.” He opened his mouth to reply, but Catherine didn’t let him finish. “Please don’t minimise your feelings, Vincent. Tell me the truth. I need to know how you really feel. That’s the only way I can help you.”

 He closed his eyes as if in resignation to his fate. “It is bothering me…it is throbbing.”

“So is your heart.”

“I know.”

Reaching across him, Catherine unscrewed the bottle of pills and shook two into her hand. “Here…these will help.” He was about to refuse, but she popped them quickly into his mouth and he had to either swallow or spit them out. He swallowed. Catherine reached around to her own side and handed him a glass of water.

Adopting a casual pose, Catherine supported herself on one elbow, and with her other hand, began to gently massage Vincent’s shoulders. If she could just ease the tension in him and relax his muscles a little, she was certain his sleep would be deeper and more beneficial. He watched her warily as she moved her fingers carefully over his upper arms, his neck and then his chest. She didn’t attempt to open his shirt or make her touch sensual in any way, and after a few minutes he closed his eyes and slowly exhaled the breath he’d been holding.

Catherine gazed down at him. He was so precious to her, so beautiful. Did he have any clue how much she wanted to fondle him in a totally different way; to kiss him deeply and awaken the passion she knew lay just beneath the surface of his resolve? She was certain he did; he just found it easier — safer – to pretend otherwise. But the time would come when that was no longer possible. He would have to acknowledge the desire in each of them to place their relationship on a different level. A level that included the physical intimacy that was part of any loving relationship. And that time, Catherine realised, was closer now than ever before, as her eyes drifted over Vincent’s body. She knew by his breathing that he was deeply asleep, and as he relaxed, his position had undergone a subtle change. His left leg was bent now and some distance apart from his right. The fingers of his good hand rubbed on the quilt,small, but significant movements. And there was something else too; something Catherine felt guilty at witnessing, but which also triggered a thrill of excitement deep inside her, filling her with confidence in their future together. Only someone scrutinising Vincent so carefully, would have noticed it. The charcoal grey cord pants he was wearing were tighter now, over his groin;  the fabric stretched and compressed his flesh in a way that hadn’t been necessary before. A minor change…but one which brought a secret smile to Catherine’s face and made her place a kiss on his slightly parted lips before laying down to dream with him. She sighed happily as she moved closer still. One day…soon now… when everything was right in his world again.

***

The following morning, after making coffee and toast for them both, Catherine left Vincent, on the pretext of going to work. She promised she’d call him later in the day, but told him he shouldn’t expect her home until after six.

In reality, Catherine had a far more important mission to undertake before attending the office. She called Joe from the street on her cell phone and pleaded a toothache that necessitated emergency treatment, promising to get in as soon as possible. Then, turning around, she went back into the apartment building and headed for the basement.

Picking her way carefully through the poorly-lit passageways in the expensive high heeled shoes that were part of her working attire, Catherine arrived at the doorway of Father’s study. The old man was seated at his desk but looked up when she spoke his name.

“Catherine!” He removed his glasses and rose to meet her, gesturing to an armchair. “This is a surprise. Somehow you are the last person I was expecting to see, my dear.”

“Why is that, Father? Because you know Vincent is utterly devastated about something, and is right now hiding out in my apartment because he doesn’t want to come home?”  

He eased himself into a chair opposite her and raised his eyebrows wryly.

“Well, you certainly don’t waste time getting to the point, do you?”

“No. Not when Vincent comes to me and tells me he’s left home. When he refuses point blank to tell me what’s wrong. When he’s so distressed and wound up that he breaks every bone in his hand on a brick wall because he can’t control his anger any longer.”

“What!  Is he all right?”

“No, he’s not all right, dammit!” Catherine felt her own anger spill out, defensively. “Oh, his hand will heal,” she added, “eventually…but what concerns me is his emotional state when he did it. What the hell happened down here last night, Father?” 

The old man rubbed his face with both hands, then shook his head sadly.  Before he could reply, however, William and Cullen burst into the study;  the former red in the face and blustering.

“What’s she doing down here!” he blurted out, rudely.

“Especially after yesterday,” his companion added. 

Catherine stared at them. “So it is something to do with me. I wondered.  Tell me…what did I do?”

“Catherine, no one wanted to hurt you…or, indeed, Vincent…but…”

“Just tell me what happened, Father…please.”

“You put our world at risk every time you come down here, Catherine, and we’ve had enough,” Cullen began, but Father raised a warning hand and pushed to his feet.

“I will deal with this, if you don’t mind. And…I would prefer to speak to Catherine in private.”

“Well, don’t you think we have a perfect right to…”

“Later. I give you my word that everyone will be informed of Catherine’s visit here today, but for the moment I shall be grateful if you will return to whatever duties you may have and leave the two of us to talk in private.”

However much the two men wanted to remain and be party to the conversation, they still had too much respect for Jacob Wells to openly defy him. Reluctantly;  almost belligerently, they turned without further comment and left.

 Leaning heavily on his cane as if it could offer him mental support as well as physical, Jacob took a few paces, then turned around, pinning Catherine with an intense, anxious gaze.

“Recently, there have been…concerns…about breaches of security, Catherine. It er, has been felt that you have not always been mindful of how vulnerable we are down here. Indeed, I believe Vincent has mentioned this to you…more than once.” 

It was true, Catherine realised. He had. But had she really been so neglectful of her responsibility in this regard? “Well, yes, actually, he has. I thought I’d been more careful. I do understand  the importance of secrecy, Father.”

“Well, forgive me, Catherine, but it has not appeared that way for some time now. Matters came to a head last week and I was requested, somewhat forcefully, I might add, to call a Council meeting to discuss the matter and what should be done about it.”

“I see.  And?”

“And…many of the residents were extremely vocal in their anger. They er…they even went so far as to tell Vincent that he should um…end his…friendship with you..”

“They WHAT?! You’re not serious, Father?”

“Never more so, I’m sorry to say. A vote was called for and…well, a significant number…too high to disregard…decreed that your coming here compromises our very existence in an unacceptable manner and that you should er…not come Below again. Catherine, my dear, I assure you it gives me no pleasure to tell you this.”

Catherine could hardly believe it. She sprang to her feet, her mind whirling with imagined possibilities of how the meeting had been conducted.  Vincent would have been beside himself with fury. He would never have stood for such censorship. If nothing else, it certainly explained his state of mind last night. For several seconds Catherine was speechless, moving around the study. Suddenly she turned and stared at Jacob.

“How did you vote, Father?”

“I abstained. A few of us did. But that does not mean I am any less concerned than the others about the current situation regarding security.  When you use any access other than that from your own apartment building, it places every single one of us in possible jeopardy…especially Vincent. If our world is discovered, Catherine…well, I hardly think I need to elaborate further”

“No. I understood that from the beginning. Thank you for telling me the truth, Father.” Catherine slumped down in the chair again, her emotions churning. Burning shame at putting Vincent in such an intolerable position, was uppermost in her mind. Hurt and a sense of betrayal by the people she had considered her adopted family were close behind. And guilt. Because however much it hurt, they were right; she had been unforgivably irresponsible. Her need to be with Vincent more often, had made her careless with the most precious secret of all.

Well, one thing was certain, she had caused this terrible split Below, and her own feelings were of no consequence right now. She had to do everything in her power to try and repair the damage that had caused Vincent so much pain, and reunite him with his family.  Regardless of her own feelings, an apology had to be made, and a plea that she be given one more chance to prove how much this place meant to her. She had to be sufficiently subservient – metaphorically licking their boots if necessary – to make them welcome Vincent home with open arms…once she had managed to persuade him to return. The secondary requirement was to get herself accepted again. Only then could she try to make amends and win back the trust of the community.  A plan had formulated in her mind and she turned to Father again.

“Would you call another meeting, Father? One that I can attend…as soon as possible…today if it can be arranged.”

“Well, I…yes I suppose so. I doubt very much that Vincent will be persuaded to join us though.” 

Catherine shook her head vigorously. “No, I don’t want him there. But you’re right. I think the only thing that could bring him down here right now, would be if you were dying.” 

Again Father’s eyebrows raised. “That’s comforting. Very well, Catherine.  I owe you that much. I will try and get everyone together at say…four o’clock?”

“Whatever you say, Father.  Now, I really have to go to work, especially as I’ll need to leave early again this afternoon.” She rose and reached out for Father’s hand. “I’ll make everything all right again, I promise. I promise you, okay?” 

The old man inclined his head and returned the pressure of Catherine’s fingers on his hand. “I am very afraid, my dear, that Vincent will never forgive any of us…that he will never return home.”

“Sure he will. He’s miserable now, but with our help he’ll soon be himself again.  And I’ll do whatever I have to in order to make certain of that”

“Well, if he will listen to anyone, it’ll be you, Catherine. You said he’d broken his hand?” 

She nodded. “It’s pretty bad, but I called Peter last night and he’s taken care of it. He left some herbal pain-killers that Vincent’s taking when the pain gets too bad, and I’m making him rest it as much as possible. Don’t worry, Father…soon you’ll be able to check on it for yourself. Trust me.”

Catherine made it into the office just in time to catch Joe stacking files on her desk. She pulled a face and sat down immediately to attack them.  When he asked her how her tooth was, she told him the dentist had taken impressions and needed her back at his office by four o’clock for the procedure. Joe nodded and sauntered away to talk to someone else.  Catherine hated lying to him, but it was Vincent’s happiness; his future, that was at stake here. Nothing was more important; not even her job. She vowed she’d make it up to Joe, and buried herself in the case of Miller v Roseberry.

At three-thirty she tidied her desk, cleared it with Joe and left the building.  She called Vincent from her cell phone and asked how he was doing. He sounded depressed and distant, and Catherine wished she could go straight home to be with him.  Promising she’d be there just as soon as she could, she whispered, “I love you” and hung up.

 ***

Everyone was assembled when Catherine arrived, and she was a little daunted by the sight of so many people, and more particularly, so many people who were mad as hell with her. The fact she was five minutes late wasn’t an especially impressive way to begin this feast of humble pie.

At Father’s beckoning, she went to stand beside him, casting an apology at the assembled crowd for her tardiness. A murmur went around the room and Father banged his gavel down on the desk in a bid for silence. Just like a judge, Catherine thought. How apt.

“Now you all know why I’ve called this second meeting,” Father began.  “Catherine knew nothing about the previous one, so I think it’s only fair to let her speak. Especially since the outcome of that other meeting cannot exactly be described as ‘satisfactory’,” he added grimly. Turning to Catherine, he gestured for her to speak, and took his seat.

Strange, she thought…I can get up in a crowded courtroom and argue my case as an equal with some of the most brilliant people in the city, but standing here in front of these men and women I’ve grown so close to in the last few years, I’m terrified. If I screw up, Heaven only knows what will happen to Vincent. She cleared her throat and looked slowly around the room.

“Just before I begin, I thought you’d all like to know that Vincent is safe Above…with me. Although I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to keep him locked up in my apartment. You know how claustrophobic he gets. He’s ah, injured his hand…quite badly last night. He was very angry and upset when he came to me, but he wouldn’t tell me why. I begged him, but I might as well have saved my breath. Anyway…I kept on at him and finally he lost his temper…which is how he came to break all the bones in his hand. He’s okay…Peter took care of him.” Catherine linked her hands together and tried not to look as if she was giving her summing-up speech in a courtroom.

“Well, of course I couldn’t let it rest there…you know what I’m like when I get ahold of something. My dad used to say I’m like a tenacious puppy with a stick.” She gave a nervous little laugh, but no one reacted. “So, I ah, came down to see Father this morning and he told me what happened here yesterday.“ Catherine looked at them all beseechingly.

“I want you to know that I accept full responsibility for the breaches of security. I’ve known right from the start that it’s vital this place is kept secret. I’ve told no one about it…not even my best friend, and I never will.  I think of it as my home. You all mean the world to me…especially since my father died. My only excuse for not being as careful as I should  recently, is because I want to be with Vincent every possible chance we get, and when I get some free time I just…come running.” Catherine threw up her hands helplessly, finding herself blushing; she had never made so public a declaration of her feelings for Vincent. He would die of embarrassment if he was here, she thought, a wave of affectionate longing sweeping over her at the thought of that beautiful face taking refuge behind his hair and staring at the floor as his cheeks flamed.

“I guess that sounds a little silly to some of you,” she smiled, “but we want to be together…need…to be together so much sometimes it’s overwhelming, and we become a little reckless I guess. You, Olivia, and Kanin…you’re so lucky. And there are others who will understand, I know. But…my love for Vincent and the difficulties it causes sometimes, is my problem, not yours, and I have no right to compromise your safety by being careless.“ She took a deep breath.

“I apologise to you all, and I give you my word…on Vincent’s life…that if you’ll forgive me, I will never, ever again risk exposing anyone down here to danger. If you will allow me to visit again, I will only use the access from the basement of my apartment building, if that’s acceptable to you…never the park, or any other less secure place.”

“But Vincent doesn’t live here anymore,” someone pointed out, and Catherine and Father exchanged glances.

“Well, that brings me to the other thing I want to say,” she said carefully, not wishing to antagonise them further, but needing to set the record straight. “Now while I accept your criticisms of my own actions unreservedly, you had absolutely no right to tell Vincent to end our relationship. Whatever your feelings towards me, it was very wrong of you to try and force him into something you must have known wasn’t fair or just, and which he would never accept. None of you would agree to any such judgment from your friends and family, so why would you think Vincent would?  I think he called your bluff. You all hoped that by making him feel guilty and miserable, you might make Vincent toe the line, but not one of you could really have believed he would ever agree. And I’m guessing that when he walked out, you were probably horrified. You’re good people and I’m sure you never meant to hurt Vincent, but you have…terribly. You insult me…you insult and wound him. You criticise me…you criticise him…even if you’re right! That’s just the way he is, and you should all know him well enough to understand that.”

“Now I know I’ve done all the talking, and I don’t want to take up any more of your time, other than to plead with you all…and if I have to get down on my knees and beg, then I will. Please, please tell Vincent you want him to come home. Tell him you didn’t mean what you said…tell him he’s free to live his life the way he chooses, with the woman he chooses, and that you accept me…even if you don’t. Even if you hate me now, you have to conceal it. Because that’s the only way any of us will get Vincent to come home. And we all know he has to, because he has no place else to go.”

“You said he’s living with you.” The remark came from a man who had only been resident in the tunnels for about four months.

“Yes, that’s right, but you don’t have to be a clairvoyant to see that’s hopelessly impractical. Tod…Vincent cannot live Above. We all know that.  So he has to be asked to come home. He has to want to come home.”

At this, Mary stepped forward, tears in her eyes. “Catherine, of course we want him to come home! He should never have left!” She whirled around and pleaded with the entire room. “Catherine’s right, we all know she is!   It was wicked what we forced upon Vincent. He loves Catherine and she loves him. To try and keep them apart is inhumane! Now Catherine has admitted she was wrong, and that she’ll be much more careful from now on. This whole thing has gotten way out of hand and we have to apologise to Vincent. Who’s with me?”

Mary looked from face to face and slowly but surely, hands started to raise until all but a handful of relative newcomers were the only ones left uncertain as to what they should do. Father stood up and came to stand between Catherine and Mary, placing an arm around each of their shoulders. He was too overcome with emotion to speak.

Pascal stepped forward. “I never wanted this to happen, Catherine;  Vincent’s my best friend…my brother. I know you’ll keep your word, and I’ll do whatever I have to, to get Vincent to come home.“

“Thank you, Pascal.”

“Me, too.”

“And me.” Jamie and Mouse joined them and soon there were more people at the front of the room enjoying a tearful group hug, than there were in back.  Eventually, Catherine disentangled herself and wiped her eyes.

“I’m sorry but I have to go,” she said shakily. “Vincent will be worried.”

“What if you can’t persuade him to come home?” Mary looked frightened.

“Let me worry about that. It won’t be easy; you know how stubborn Vincent can be…but I figure I can get him to come around.”  Waving goodbye, Catherine turned and made her way back to the basement of her apartment building. She had won the first battle of this particular, very delicate and personal war, but negotiating the next was going to take every ounce of her patience and powers of persuasion.

Vincent was standing to the side of the open French doors when Catherine walked in. He didn’t look round immediately and this surprised her even more than the fact he hadn’t taken the trouble to conceal himself in another room at the sound of the street door being unlocked.

“Vincent? You seem way too calm; I could have been anyone.”

“No,” he said, turning his head slowly. “I knew it was you.”

“How?” She dumped her briefcase on the couch and kicked off her shoes, relieved to finally be out of them after tramping around the uneven surfaces Below.

“I just knew. I always know when you’re near.” Catherine noticed the pain-killers on the coffee table. They’d been on Vincent’s side of the bed when she’d left that morning. So…he must have taken some more.

She slipped off the jacket of her lilac two-piece and walked over to join him. “How are you?”  

He shrugged and returned his gaze to the terrace and the outlook beyond.

“Has your hand been very painful?”

“It has troubled me a little. I took two pills earlier and slept for a while. It is easier now.” His chest lifted in a deep breath which he exhaled as a sigh.  He seemed so depressed. Although the two situations were vastly different, Catherine found herself remembering how he’d been when he was captured by Professor Hughes and his callous young associate. He’d almost willed himself to die then; desperately unhappy;  utterly defeated. She’d never seen him that way before, with all the fight drained out of him, and she never wanted to again. Catherine knew she had to do something to raise his spirits. She took his good hand in hers and gave him a gentle tug.

“Come on, let’s sit down and relax for a while before I go and fix us something to eat. What have you had today? Did you find something for lunch?” They sat down side by side, Catherine still holding his hand.

“I had three cookies and an apple.  I wasn’t especially hungry, but I knew you would be angry if I ate nothing. I made some tea.” Catherine smiled at the thought of him worrying that she’d be mad at him if he starved himself.

“Good. It can’t have been easy making tea with one hand?”

“I managed it without scalding myself.” With Vincent you had to go by  tone of voice rather than facial expression, to know if humour was implied, but this evening, Catherine decided that it probably wasn’t, given his mood.

“I expect it’s been a long day, being here all by yourself.”

“It gave me time to think about my future.”  Brood and torture yourself, you mean. Could this be an opportune moment? Catherine hadn’t planned to launch into her gentle attack on his resolve until they were both relaxed and rested, but since he’d mentioned his future…

“Vincent, I ah, I’ve been thinking about that today too.  It’s a little… uncertain now, isn’t it?”

“It will certainly be different learning to live Above.”

“Have you given any thought to where you might make your permanent home?” His eyes instantly flicked to hers and she knew she didn’t imagine the sting of pain she’d caused with her question. He tried to withdraw his hand but she hung on tightly. “Vincent, you know that I’d love nothing better than to have you here with me twenty-four hours a day, but it’s just not practical, is it? I’m out at work from eight thirty until six in the evening. Can you really imagine spending all day shut up in this apartment alone for nine and a half hours, five days a week? You’d go crazy after a week.”

“Other men cope with similar situations…through illness…or caring for young children.”

“Vincent, you are not ‘other men’. You are not a ‘house-husband’ nor an invalid. You hate being confined; you can’t stand central heating; you couldn’t work; walk anywhere; swim or run to burn off energy…”

“I can write…listen to music…and walk and run when it’s dark, the way I do now.”

“What’re you going to do…sit up on the roof? Because the only alternative is to walk right out the main door into the street. Vincent, listen to me please…you’d be miserable in just a few days.” Vincent sprang to his feet and began to pace around the room.

“Then what do you suggest I do?  Move from one empty building to another, like a panhandler, as it’s taken over or  torn down!” He whirled around, his blue eyes glittering with pain and uncharacteristic bitterness.  “Perhaps you could ask your friend Elliot Burch if I might live in the basement of his next development in return for keeping the boiler serviced!”

“Vincent, don’t!” Catherine jumped up and ran to him, putting her arms around his waist and holding him tightly. He couldn’t break away without being rough with her and she knew he wouldn’t do that. She pressed her cheek hard against his chest and heard the pounding of his heart. He was so vulnerable right now; in such anguish. “I love you,” she whispered. “I can’t bear seeing you in such pain.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, with obvious difficulty. “I am not…myself, right now.”

“I know that. You’re feeling alone and betrayed. You feel you’ve given all you can and you’ve been kicked in the teeth for it. You think no one cares about you, but you couldn’t be more wrong.” Vincent stiffened in her arms and she leaned back to look into his face. “I know what happened, Vincent.  I know why you left.”

He was waiting for her to explain herself and now the words were out of her mouth she wasn’t sure what to say next without making him furious with her for interfering.

“Vincent please don’t be mad…I went Below today.” His good arm, which had crept around her, fell to his side, and she gingerly released him, taking a step backwards.

“You did what?”

“I went Below. Vincent, you wouldn’t tell me what was wrong; I had to find out what had upset you so much. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have felt exactly the same if the positions had been reversed.”

“You had no right, Catherine…it was not your concern.”

“Oh no? Well, I think loving you gives me that right, and guess what? I found out it was very much my concern! This whole thing is my fault!  They were right, Vincent…I have been careless and irresponsible! They were just trying to protect you and their home by calling that meeting. I accept their criticisms and I’ve sworn to abide by much stricter rules in the future.”

“There will be no future! Not for me…not down there!” Catherine badly wanted him to calm down and she knew she wasn’t handling this conversation as well as she’d promised herself she would.

“Look, I didn’t mean to tell you like this. I wanted to wait until you were feeling more optimistic…relaxed. I wanted to tell you after dinner, but it’s too late now. Vincent, I asked Father to call another meeting and I went back this afternoon so that I could tell everyone how sorry I am about my carelessness lately and assure them that if they’d give me another chance, it would never happen again. I gave them my word that I’d only use the access point in the basement of this building and…well, they agreed.”

Vincent’s face was like thunder and he was breathing hard. Catherine held out her hand to him.

“Please, don’t be mad. If I can forgive them, and they can forgive me, then can’t you please forgive them too?”

“They dared to tell me I shouldn’t see you…that our relationship was endangering them! They said you were not welcome to visit again!”

“I know, Vincent, and they were very wrong to do that. I told them they had no right to try and tell you how to live your life, and I think they realise that now. I’m sure they never meant this to go as far as it has. I think they were just scared of what might happen if your world was discovered, and they over-reacted. People do that when they’re afraid.  They want you to come home, Vincent.”

“No!”  Since he’d ignored her outstretched hand, Catherine stood right in front of him and put her hands on either side of his waist, looking up into his face. He wouldn’t look at her, but the emotions she saw there broke her heart. He was full of anger, pain, and uncertainty. He wanted to believe her, she was sure, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to forgive such a betrayal by his family.

“When they hurt you, they hurt me,” he said in a low voice.

“I know. I told them that.”

“When they insult you, they also insult me.”

“I told them that too.” 

Vincent’s eyes rose immediately to lock with hers. “You said that?”

“Of course, I did. I know how you feel…I know how much you love me;  that’s why you couldn’t tell me what was wrong last night. We hurt for each other. And maybe the only reason I can forgive them for what they’ve done to you, is because I know you need to be with them.”

“I need to be with you, Catherine.” His voice was a choked whisper, overflowing with emotion.

“And you will be, I promise. Do you really think I could ever give up on this relationship…stop loving you because it’s too difficult sometimes? No way, Vincent. Never. But we both know, deep down, that you cannot live safely Above…it breaks my heart to admit it, but you are only safe Below, where people love and respect you, so I love you enough to give you back into their care for those hours during the day when we can’t be together.”

For a moment he simply stood looking down into her eyes, as if trying to evaluate what he could possibly have done to have won such devotion and loyalty. The look on his face was awesome.  He knew she loved him, but perhaps he hadn’t realised quite how much.

“Do they truly want me to return?” he asked quietly.

“More than anything…other than your forgiveness.”

“Then…I must try to be worthy of you, Catherine. If your heart is generous enough to forgive, then mine must be also.”

“Then you’ll go home?”

He put his hands on her shoulders and sighed. “Yes.”  

Catherine felt a mixture of relief and sadness which he picked up on immediately. “That is what you have been trying so hard to get me to agree upon?”

“Yes,” she answered with a small smile. “Because I love you enough to do what’s best for you. But I’m also selfish enough to wish I could keep you here with me forever.” 

He wrapped his arms around her and they held each other tightly. “Oh, Catherine, however much I see you it is never enough…not now. It used to be for a time, but not now.”

“I know,” she murmured against his chest. “I will come Below for longer periods. For whole weekends…I’ll come down in time for dinner on Friday evenings and I won’t come back until Sunday evening. How about that?”

“That would make me very happy. And I will come to you at least twice during the week.”

“You mean I might have to go two whole evenings without seeing you?”

“Well, we’ll see.”

As they held each other, they were both acutely aware of a physical need building swiftly between them. It was as if the trauma of the last twenty- four hours had released in each of them a powerful urge that neither was able to control. Their bodies were pressing tightly together and Catherine could feel the unmistakable shape of Vincent’s erection pushing against her stomach. His uninjured hand slid over her back, his fingers clasping and unclasping as if he was caressing a different part of her in his imagination.  This thought alone stole Catherine’s breath, and she brought her hands around to his chest. He hardly seemed aware of her unlacing his shirt. It was only when she parted the material and began to stroke and fondle the tawny softness that covered his chest, that he seemed to realise what was happening, and how intimately he was pushing into her. It seemed to shock him and he gasped, trying to pull away.

“No, Catherine, this is not right!” Instead of allowing him to back off as she had done in the past when he felt things were getting too heated, she quickly slipped her arms around him again and grasped his rear, forcing that most private part of him harder against her while she moved subtly from side to side, trying to give him the pleasure he deserved, yet was unwilling to accept openly. She knew how uncomfortable he must be, and desperately wanted to release him from the restriction around his hips.

“Can I touch you, Vincent?” she whispered, kissing his chest tenderly, as if she could control and comfort the thumping of his heart beneath her ear.

“No!”

Afraid her question would frighten him into withdrawing completely from this sudden and most exquisite intimacy, she didn’t push the subject. “Okay, I won’t. I just wanted you to feel more comfortable, but it’s okay.  Just enjoy what’s happening, Vincent.”

“No, please don’t!” he croaked, “Let me go, Catherine, you don’t understand…” He’d never allowed his stimulation to build this way before;  and it had happened so fast. It had to be his emotional fragility that had caused him to lose his steel resolve, and Catherine found it immensely erotic. She’d never wanted him more than she did at this moment and the strength of her feelings was making her feel light-headed. The naiveté of his remark touched her and made her love him even more, if such a thing was possible.

“Of course, I understand, Sweetheart.  Don’t you think I know what’s happening to you, silly? Let it happen…please…just let it happen, it’s okay…it’s okay.” She heard herself crooning to him as if he was a child which, in a way he was;  sexually he was.

Still holding his rump and moving against him, she feasted on his chest, sucking hungrily on each nipple in turn as he fought for breath and feeling moisture gathering between her legs. The long, sharp nails on his hand were digging into her back, but instead of hurting her, it simply exacerbated her excitement and she wished they would rip each other’s clothes off and make love until neither one of them had the strength to stand up any longer.  Instead she concentrated on giving him the pleasure he’d never had, albeit a little differently than she had imagined the first time would be. She ached to hold him properly; the way he really needed to be held, but that would come next time.  As he gasped and shuddered violently, arching into her, his head fell back and she grabbed a handful of his hair, taking the opportunity to kiss the long smooth column of his exposed neck.

It took Vincent almost five minutes to return to full awareness, and when he did, it was as if he was emerging from a hypnotic state. His breathing slowed and she felt him loosen his grip on her back. She knew the next stage would be acute embarrassment but she was ready for that.

“Vincent,” she purred in his ear. “You really are a tiger, aren’t you?”

“A what? A tiger, did you say?”

“Mm hm. That’s what I said.” 

He shook his head in amazement. “A strange word to describe me. No one has ever compared me to a tiger.”

“Well, I’m guessing that no one else has ever seen you that way before, so how would they know?”

“Well, you are certainly correct about that. Catherine, I feel desperately…”

“If you dare say ‘ashamed’, Vincent, I won’t let you use my bathroom.”   She’d never gambled so audaciously with his most delicate and precious feelings, but then hadn’t she just shown him how much she loved him;  desired and cherished him? Surely he’d take her words for what they were…a humorous, highly intimate remark between two people who were deeply in love. For a moment he simply stared at her. Then he glanced down at the dark, damp patch on the front of his pants. When he raised his eyes to meet Catherine’s again, the edges of his mouth turned up very slightly.

“Then I suppose I will have to return Below as I am.” 

Catherine’s jaw dropped in surprised pleasure. He was teasing her. He knew she would never allow him to go home until all evidence of their intimacy had disappeared. He was learning, bless him. Learning how to love and be loved. She grinned and reached up to kiss his mouth.

“What would you say if I suggested taking a shower together?”

“I would say…” he hesitated, “that I have overcome enough fears and inhibitions for one day…wouldn’t you agree?” 

Catherine linked her arms behind his neck and smiled. “Okay, you win.  But I think you’ll find everything will come very easily and naturally from now on, Vincent.  I can wait.” He gave her a sideways look, then headed for the bathroom.

When she heard the shower water, Catherine went to the bathroom door, knocked and called out to Vincent. “Is there anything in your bag you need, Vincent?” Everything went quiet. He’d obviously turned off the water again.

“Vincent?  Are you all right?”

“Yes, but I just realised something…I didn’t bring any spare pants…just shirts and underwear.”  Catherine covered her mouth with her hand to prevent her laughter bubbling out to embarrass him. She leaned against the door until she felt she could speak.

“Well, ah, in that case, I guess you’re here for another night while we get your pants washed and dried, okay?”

“I suppose so. Thank you Catherine.”

“Can I come in and get them?”

“No!”

“Vincent, for Heaven’s sake!”

“I – I will bring them out and put them in the washing machine myself.”  There was a grunt of pain and Catherine opened the door.

“What is it?” He gasped and tried to cover himself, but it was too late.  Catherine had already seen his naked body as he climbed out of the shower and stood dripping on the fluffy bathmat. He was cradling his hand against his chest. Catherine shook her head as she put one arm around his waist and bent her head to touch her lips to his injured hand.

“Vincent, Vincent, why do you put yourself through so much when it’s all so unnecessary? Come on, let me help you.” Before he could say a word, she’d stripped off her clothes and was pulling him gently back into the shower. He stood quite still, a look of wonder on his face, while she sponged and rinsed him; only allowing him to wash his private parts. As much as she wanted to use her hands instead of the sponge, she knew she still had this final hurdle to help Vincent over, and she wanted him to come willingly. When he was through, she loaded the sponge with more soap and handed it back to him.

“Want to help me out now?”

Somewhere along the line, the sponge was dropped as their bodies met.  Lips brushed against lips and arms wound around each other almost reverently; touching; stroking; exploring. This time it was not the rushed, desperate physical release for Vincent, but a mutual, tender worship of each other’s bodies. After what had so recently transpired, passion built more slowly in Vincent than Catherine and she had to hold back until he was ready. He was still hesitant, unsure if he would hurt her, but she guided him gently and firmly and he slipped inside her as easily as if she’d been created for him alone.  Vincent flooded her with his love and promise of life to come, and they held each other tightly, murmuring words of love and tenderness as the shared release brought them slowly back to reality.

“Now you belong to me forever,” Catherine whispered, nuzzling through Vincent’s hair to find his ear.

“We belong to each other.” His reply was hoarse and filled with emotion.

“No more shyness?”

His shoulders shook slightly with a small chuckle. “There seems to be little point now. You have seen every part of me…”

“And I love them all.”

“I was going to say,” Vincent continued, “you have seen every part of me and been witness to every weakness and failing. You know me like no one in my life ever has. And you still love me.”

“More than you will ever know.”  Finding his lips, she kissed him deeply.

 ***

The next morning found the two of them descending the ladder beneath Catherine’s basement. Vincent was wearing his freshly laundered pants, and he took a deep breath as his feet touched the soil of the place where he’d lived his whole life. He looked at Catherine for support.  She squeezed his arm with a smile of encouragement.

“It’ll be okay, Vincent, I promise. They want you back, and…” she added when he opened his mouth to protest, “…they’ve forgiven me and agreed they were very wrong to try and tell you how to live your life. Now it’s up to me to try and prove to them that they can trust me again.”  

Vincent frowned and picked up his bag. “Of course, they can trust you.”

“I let them down, Sweetheart. It’s up to me now, to win back their trust.  Come on.” Taking his arm carefully so as not to jar his hand, she pressed close to him as they began to walk. Vincent was very quiet, and she knew he was apprehensive about his return.

Suddenly, voices in the tunnel a little way ahead, made them stop. After a few seconds, the source of the sound came into view and both Vincent and Catherine were astonished to see the tunnel filled with what had to be almost the entire population of the community.  Father and Mary led the group.  At Jacob’s signal everyone stopped and only he came toward Vincent.

“Are you back to stay?” he asked, haltingly.

“If everyone agrees to allow me the same rights as you all have…to live my life the way I choose, and with the woman I choose.”

“You have our word, Vincent.” Father held out his arms and Mary caught his cane as the two men caught each other in an emotional embrace.

“I’ve missed you, son.” The words were muffled against Vincent’s shoulder but he had no trouble hearing them.

“And I you, Father.”

After a moment, Mary stepped forward and was included in the embrace, sobbing against Vincent’s chest.

“Mary, it’s all right, please don’t distress yourself.”

“Don’t ever leave us again, Vincent.”

“I won’t. Not as long as the terms of my return are clearly understood and adhered to.” At that, Mary turned to the large group of tunnel residents filling the tunnel, and beckoned Rueben and Cullen forward. Both men cleared their throats, quite obviously apprehensive about what they had to say.

“Vincent, we ah…we were way out of line with what we said to you,” Cullen began.

“Yeah, we never wanted you to leave, you know. This whole thing has gotten out of hand,” Rueben chipped in.

“Anyway, we want to apologise to you and Catherine,” Cullen continued.  “We had no right to try and dictate your life, Vincent. This place isn’t the same without you, so well…”

“What Cullen’s trying to say…what we all want to say, is that we apologise, and please come back, okay, because we all miss you like hell. Right everyone?” Rueben turned to the group who all nodded enthusiastically, calling out words of welcome.

“And Catherine is welcome, too?”

“Sure she is. Catherine’s been good to all of us and somehow, with all the tension around here just lately, I guess we kinda forgot that.”

Vincent nodded and took Rueben’s outstretched hand. “Then I’ll come back.”

“Oh thank Heavens!” one of the women cried, and there was a general commotion as people surged forward to hug Vincent or shake his hand.    Catherine stood back, smiling and trying not to cry as his friends and family made known again their true affection and respect for him.

It took many minutes before everyone had welcomed Vincent home, but eventually the group began to turn and make its way back down the tunnel towards the home chambers. Catherine felt a little like an outsider again.  As much as she wanted to be with him, somehow it didn’t seem right, in the circumstances, to intrude on Vincent’s homecoming, yet she didn’t want to leave without at least saying goodbye to him. Hoping her interruption wouldn’t be misconstrued, she called out:

“Vincent?  I’ll see you tomorrow, Sweetheart, okay?” She’d never called him ‘Sweetheart’ in the tunnels before, knowing such a term of endearment would embarrass him, but somehow she felt that now the time was right.  She needed to let him know…let all of them know, that she would be waiting for him; that she loved him and would never leave him. In her heart she was already his wife. They belonged to each other completely now, as never before.

Vincent turned, a frown on his face. “Where are you going?”

“Well, I – I thought I’d go back, you know…let you catch up with everyone.”

“No.” Shaking his head, Vincent held out his hand and walked towards her.  “I want you with me.” Catherine’s jaw dropped in surprise at his words.  He’d never sounded so masterful, so…possessive. Well, that was okay by her. Slipping her hand into his larger one, she smiled up at him. “Whatever you say, Sweetheart.”

“Come along now, Vincent, I want to take a look at that hand. And I need to see those pills Peter gave you,” Father fussed, patting Vincent’s shoulder and falling into step with Mary as they followed Vincent and Catherine into the tunnel.

“I think everything’s going to be all right, Father,” Mary whispered.

“Yes, yes, back to normal again, thank God.”

 ***

Vincent and Catherine stared into each other’s eyes as they walked. “Welcome home, Vincent,” she sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Welcome home, Catherine,” he murmured against her ear.