Helen awoke from her uneasy slumber the next morning. As usual, she had rolled from the center of the bed to the right hand side in her sleep – the side she always slept on when Alex was with her.

She lay on her side and scooted across until her head was lying on her husband’s pillow (the pillow she had set aside when Joe had used it for his sickbed). Pressing herself face first into the padding she sniffed deeply, catching just the slightest whiff of Alex’s scent.

Grasping the pillow, she pulled it tightly into her belly and curled herself around it. As it was still early, she closed her eyes, she tried to relax in a vain attempt to catch some more rest, however, her mind kept wandering.

She thought back to the previous night and a stab of guilt assaulted her conscience as she remembered how she had lost control completely with Mark and had gone at him with her fists up. Rob had stepped into the middle to intercede and she’d run straight into him, her elbow digging painfully into his cracked rib.

She squeezed her eyes even more tightly shut and her stomach lurched as she remembered the accusing and hateful way Mark had glared at her as his brother had crumpled to his knees.

Giving up on the idea of sleep, she finally slid out from beneath the bedclothes and swung her legs out of bed. Her mouth was dry and she decided to get herself a drink of water.

***

"Have you packed a pair of my socks by accident?" asked Joe who was opening and closing the drawers in quick succession.

Frank unzipped the pocket in his suitcase where he’d packed his footwear and counted them quickly. "Yep – here, catch," he said throwing over the lost balled up garment.

The door opened at that instant and Kiwi stuck his head in and was struck straight in the center of the eyes.

"Nice shot," he complimented and laughed.

Joe scooped up the socks and tossed them unceremoniously into his own bag. "Come on in Kiwi," he offered.

"Well, that’s me just about done," Frank announced, pushing down on the lid of the case, gritting his teeth as it bounced up and down on the mattress refusing to close enough for him to fasten the catch. Kiwi came over to assist and together they fought the stubborn bag and force it closed.

"Why is it everything fits into a suitcase until you make the mistake of unpacking?" Joe observed.

"One of life’s little mysteries mate." Kiwi slumped down onto Frank’s bed and leaned back against the headboard. "I’m going to miss you guys," he announced loudly. "Things are going to be difficult once you’ve gone."

"It’ll be okay," Joe assured him.

"I suppose. Me and Rob are going to move back to his place after you’ve gone tomorrow and Mark’s coming with us."

Frank turned with a look of intense surprise on his face while Joe had stopped trying to close his own case to devote his full attention to his New Zealand friend.

"You’re joking! What bought that on?" Frank asked, bemused.

"Helen’s arranged to go and stay with a relative for the time being and insisted Mark go and stay with Rob and me. She’s worried it’s still not safe for him to be on his own."

"She has a point," Frank agreed. "Despite those two goons being caught, their boss is still out there somewhere," he pointed out.

"When’s she leaving?" asked Joe.

"Tomorrow, before you guys leave for the airport."

"So she’s not coming to see us off?" Joe inquired disappointed, his gaze momentarily shifting to his brother.

"Doesn’t look like it."

Frank’s mouth dropping slightly was the only reaction he gave. He lifted his case from the bed, lugged it to the window and set it down beneath before returning and sitting down on the bed at Kiwi’s feet.

Joe finally got his own case to shut and placed it next to his brothers. Sitting down on the bed opposite, he looked from his brother to Kiwi, who were both locked in each other’s gazes.

"Uh-oh, I can feel a bonding session looming," Joe quipped, "this isn’t going to result in a group hug is it?" he said, putting his hands up in mock horror.

They both laughed and Kiwi nudged Frank with his foot. "Nah! But it will be weird when you’ve gone maties," he muttered, his eyes turning up at the corners. "Oh, I almost forgot…" he delved into his front pocket and pulled out a creased piece of paper, which he handed to Frank.

Unfurling and patting it flat, Frank saw it contained Kiwi’s New Zealand phone number and address.

"Now you’ve no excuse for not keeping in touch," he said.

Frank opened his wallet and extracted one of his father’s business cards and passed it across. "The same goes to you my friend. If you ever need any help, you know where to get us."

"Yeah, all you have to do is whistle," said Joe. He stopped and then smirked, "you do know how to whistle don’t you? You just put your lips together and….blow!"

Frank and Kiwi both stared at Joe incredulously, their faces unreadable.

"You’re amazing Joe, do you know that?" muttered Frank dryly, shaking his head.

***

Not wanting their friends to return to America without at least having one night out, Rob and Mark decided to give them a send off by booking a table at a local restaurant. They both tried long and hard to persuade Helen to go with them, but she ducked out saying she really wasn’t in the mood and had to pack anyway. In the end, Frank interceded firmly and came to her defense.

"If Helen doesn’t want to come, you can’t force her."

"But that means one of us will have to stand guard here with her," Mark protested.

"Leave it with me," Frank said and went to the telephone. He returned with a broad smile on his face, "I just phoned Morgan and he’s going to send a squad car to sit outside and keep an eye on things."

"Looks like a lads’ night out then," yelled Joe triumphantly and punched the sky.

"HEY!" Helen suddenly yelled from the stairs. They turned as she tossed something from the top step towards Rob. He caught it automatically realizing it was a set of keys. "Take the BMW," she instructed.

"Wow, thanks Helen," said Rob.

"My pleasure," she said, disappearing up the stairs once again.

***

"…so - that’s how my trousers ended up covered in tomato sauce and folded up in a sesame seed bun." Rob finished.

All the young men seated around the table burst out laughing.

Mark rolled his eyes, "only you could get yourself into that situation!" he smirked.

"You’re hardly one to talk – tell them about the time you ended up with your lips stuck to the freezer."

Mark nearly choked on his drink and started coughing hoarsely. "Don’t you DARE tell that tale!" he warned as Joe banged him on the back.

"Oh, come on Mark, this sounds good," Frank goaded him, winking at Kiwi conspiratorially.

Joe draped his arm over his shoulders and squeezed him into a headlock. "Come on Buster – tell all."

Mark struggled free and took another quick swig of his drink before grinning toothily. "Okay, but promise you won’t laugh?"

"Mate! Would we laugh at you?" asked Kiwi.

"Yes."

Kiwi gasped and put his hand over his heart, "Mark…that hurts to the core!" he said, feigning wounded pride. He put his face on Frank’s shoulder and pretending to cry noisily.

Frank put his arms about him and rubbed his back. "There, there, I’m sure the nasty man didn’t mean it."

"Come on – I want to hear the story," Joe demanded loudly, banging his fist against the table.

"Okay," Mark conceded and cleared his throat. "Me and Rob used to dare each other to do stupid things when we were kids. One day he challenged me to open the freezer and kiss the ice."

Frank snorted, already guessing what Mark was about to say.

"Needless to say, my lips stuck fast and I couldn’t move."

"What did you do?" asked Kiwi, his eyes wide.

"What could I do? I was welded on and totally reliant on my big brother coming to my rescue."

"And did he?"

"Did he heck-as-like, he bogged off into the living room and left me there."

They all went into raptures of laughter again.

Finally catching his breath, Joe looked at Rob. "That was cruel – how long was he stuck there?"

"Not long. Mom discovered him about half an hour later. She had to pour warm water into the freezer to release him."

"Did you get into trouble?" asked Kiwi.

"Not ‘arf – but it was worth it!"

Once again they all laughed and Rob raised his glass in a salute. He took a drink and some of the contents dripped onto his shirtfront, "woopsie daisy!" he said.

"I think," began Mark somberly, "that before we finish our drinks, we should raise a toast..."

"This should be interesting, considering our foreign friends here are all on the soft stuff," Rob interrupted.

"HEY - we can toast as well as the next man!" Joe protested.

"Quite right too mate. What are we drinking to?" Kiwi asked Mark.

"Raise your glasses," Mark said and lifted his high, along with everyone else’s, "To Alex - who is probably sitting up on his cloud, with a pint in his hand as we speak."

"To Alex!" They are all said as one.

"Here, here," muttered Rob. As he set the glass down, he noted the way the waiters were eyeing their table disapprovingly. "Erm…I think maybe we’ve outstayed our welcome, lets move on to another establishment," he suggested, wiping the drips from his shirt.

"Okay by me," Kiwi agreed.

Rob approached the cash register and paid their bill. As they left, Joe loitered and turned to the other patrons. Raising his hand to gain their attention, he said, as loudly as he voice would allow, "thank you for a wonderful night, it’s been one of the best."

Frank re-entered through the door behind him, grabbed him by the shirt collar and hauled him into Kiwi’s waiting arms, "I’m real sorry, you’ll have to forgive him – he’s American," he apologized embarrassed and hustled him out.

Happy with his explanation, everyone turned back to his or her meals.

They moved onto a bar and stayed until time was called. By the time they’d finished their drinks they were the last to leave. The landlord saw them to the door and locked it behind them.

"Rob…Rob…Mate, let’s have another look at your cross," Kiwi requested, jigging about excitedly.

"For Pete’s sake Kiwi, that’s about the fourth time you’ve asked tonight," Rob moaned, lifting the bullet-damaged pendant free from his shirt again.

The New Zealander eyed it in admiration. "That is one cool trophy!"

"Yes, but totally useless for reenactment now, thanks to Martin Grantham." Rob pointed out. "Tell you what Kiwi, seems you’re so enamored with it, why don’t you have it?" He lifted it by the cord over his head and offered it across.

"But…" Kiwi peered back at his friend, waiting for the punch line, upon not receiving one he said, "are you sure?"

"Take it."

"Wow, thanks Rob," he muttered going red. He slipped it over his head, lifted and looked at it for a few seconds and then tucked it down inside his collar.

"Okay, time to head back I suppose," said Frank, checking his watch.

"Ah, not so fast my American friend," said Rob, laying a hand on his shoulder and leaning closely into his face, "a night is incomplete unless you’ve gone home with a traffic cone!"

"That sounds like a dare, dear brother!" said Mark, raising his eyebrow.

Joe, Frank and Kiwi all looked at one another nonplused.

"A traffic cone?" asked Kiwi incredulously.

"A traffic cone!" answered Rob firmly.

They made their way back to the car and climbed in. The older Randall brother surrendered the keys to Frank and slid into the front beside him. He latched his seatbelt and held it away from his front with his thumb so it wouldn’t dig into his rib.

"Okay, let’s rock!" yelled Joe, banging the back of the driver’s headrest.

"Where’re we going?" asked Frank.

"Just cruise," Mark instructed, "there’s always LOADS of cones to be found."

"We don’t want to pinch a little one though – it’s got to be big," Kiwi announced.

"I like the cut of your jib, Kiwi," Mark agreed, "there’s no honor in pinching a puny one."

Frank shook his head and grinned at his brother through the rear mirror, "I can’t believe we’re doing this," he said.

They drove for half an hour, spotting and rejecting cones as they went.

"This is disappointing, they’re just not up to scratch," groaned Kiwi.

"Wait," instructed Joe, "do you see what I see?" he asked, rubbing his hands together.

They all looked in the direction the younger Hardy brother was indicating and Kiwi started to bounce up and down on the seat in excitement.

"Cool City! I bet no one’s ever had the nerve to nick a yellow, flashing, warning light from the top of a cone," He shouted.

"We can’t do that…" Frank started to protest loudly as he pulled over.

"Wanna bet?" asked his brother, jumping out of the car closely followed by Kiwi.

"NOOO! Get back in the car!" Frank hissed through gritted teeth. Rob and Mark did nothing to help, both doubled up laughing.

"Oh god, it hurts to laugh," choked Rob, clutching his side.

Kiwi and Joe both ran up the line of cones. On top of every other cone was a flashing light. They ran along trying to pull one from the top, but found none would budge so separated to save time. Suddenly Kiwi held one aloft triumphantly and started dancing around with it. A couple of seconds later, Joe had one in his hands also. They both ran laughing back to the car and threw them into Mark’s lap.

"Nice one lads," he cried, "but where’s the cone knuckleheads?"

"Oops," said Joe and ran back. Returning, they saw he’d acquired a four-foot funnel.

Rob nodded slowly, "respect," he said.

Joe sat down next to a giggling Kiwi and pulled the cone in after him. It barely fitted into the back of the car and Rob had to slide the car seat forward to create more legroom.

"Oh jeez," muttered Frank, putting his hands over his head.

"GO, GO, GO!!!" Mark bawled, "a fast getaway is of paramount importance," he explained after deafening Kiwi.

"Can’t you do something to turn those light’s off?" asked Frank, concerned that the car was being flooded on and off with yellow light, "we’ll be caught."

Mark picked up one of the lamps and fiddled about with it. "There doesn’t seem to be an off switch," he announced, starting to giggle.

"No way!"

"True – there’s no power switch."

"Well, put it under your coat or something."

They were now driving up the street towards the house. As they turned into the driveway they suddenly spotted the police car parked outside.

"Oh my god! We forgot about the panda car," Mark exclaimed, immediately thrusting a lamp under this jacket.

Kiwi snatched up the other one and did the same.

Joe was leaning on the cone, failing miserably to push it down into the gap between the back and front seats.

Mark looked at the police car. "How are we going to get these into the house without being spotted?" he asked.

"Go and distract the police officers’ attentions," Rob ordered Frank.

"Why me?" asked Frank plaintively.

"Because I’m bigger than you," said Rob, "and you’ve got an innocent face."

Frank sighed, unlatched the door and headed for the other car. Crouching down against the driver’s window, he rapped on the glass. As he drew the occupants into a conversation, his put his hand surreptitiously behind his back and jabbed his finger towards the house.

Mark and Kiwi exited and ran up the steps, suppressing their mounting, hysterical giggles. As the younger Randall brother turned to the New Zealander, he started laughing maniacally. The yellow light his friend was carrying was not covered adequately causing his face to be lit up ghoulishly every other second.

Mark finally managed to get the door to open and they both stormed inside.

Joe slithered across the seat and exited through the other door pulling the cone behind him. As he stood up, Rob joined him and they both walked awkwardly, shoulder to shoulder towards the house - obscuring the view of the four-foot cone.

Frank was waving the police away as Joe and Rob entered the house, slamming the door behind them. He thrust his hands into his front pockets and headed back, shaking his head in amazement and smiling broadly.

The windows on the ground floor of the house were flashing with a strobe light effect and he could see the silhouette of his brother and friends as they jerkily jigged about, throwing the cone between them. Even though he was towards the bottom of the driveway, he could still hear them howling inside the house.