EPISODE 4995 MONDAY 13TH OCTOBER 2003
Written by Andrew J. Davidson

Previously on "Crossroads":
The police announced they were hunting Ethan Black.
They searched the Beaches and the mansion, but found no sign of him.
Jimmy's ghost urged Ryan to find Ethan.
Joe realised that Jenny had been murdered.
Angel thought Max and Patty were trying to drive her mad.
The Wise sisters took their revenge on Danny.
Wanda was arrested for stealing a car.
Jake Booth returned to King's Oak.

Starring
Angel Samson
Kate Russell
Tracey Booth
Rocky Wesson
Vince Vaccaro
Scott Booth
Chloe
Nicola Berry
Phil Berry
Rio Brooke
and Billy Taylor

Special Guest Stars
Penelope Forbes-Hughes
Ethan Black
Patty Maynard

Guest Starring
Sister Grace
Kelly Stanton
Julie Noakes
Sylvia Roberts
Jake Booth
Michelle Grace
Betty York
Benito
Dr Lambeth


The noise in the reception area was almost deafening, and the
assorted members of staff were clearly exhausted. Crossroads had
been inundated with custom since the newspaper articles comparing
the hotel to a circus had been published, to everyone's great
surprise.
"There you go, Mr Higgins," Chloe was saying to the distinguished
gentleman in front of her, "you're in room 613, take the yellow lift
to the sixth floor."
Mr Higgins nodded solemnly, and then wandered off into the crowd,
followed by Salvatore the porter, who was hauling his luggage behind
him. As they made their way to the yellow elevator, they passed Kate
Russell, who was being hotly pursued by Vince, flapping as usual.
"I'm telling you Kate," Vince was saying animatedly, "I can't cope
with this! We're running out of everything, and I'm two members of
staff down…"
"Two?" Kate asked. "I know about Danny being sick, but who's the
other?"
"Lola." Vince rolled his eyes. "Technically she's in the kitchen,
but she's about as much use as a fart in a jacuzzi at the best of
times. Today, she's not even that! I mean, what am I supposed to do?"
Kate patted his arm and tried to soothe him. "Vince, I'll see what I
can do, okay? And I'll try and get some emergency supplies from the
cash and carry…"
Kate and Vince hurried towards Kate's office, narrowly missing
colliding with Tracey, who was hauling a trolley laden with bottles
and crates of alcohol towards the bar area. Behind the bar, poor
Benito was exhausted, and there were about six irritated customers
huffing and puffing for service.
Coming to the bottom of the stairs, Nicola spotted Tracey struggling
and dashed over to help her.
"Thanks, Nicola," gushed Tracey, "I've never seen this place like
this before! It's busier than Christmas! The bar's been mad, look at
Benito's face, poor thing…"
Nicola saw that Benito looked ready to pass out and smiled at
Tracey. "Would you like a hand for a bit?" she asked, "just so
Benito can have a break?"
"Oh, Nic, you're a life saver!" Tracey planted a kiss on Nicola's
cheek; she blushed and helped Tracey get the stock to the bar
cupboard.
From her vantage point on the first floor balcony, Angel surveyed
the mayhem around her and smiled slightly nastily, just a hint of
the old Angel coming to the surface. To her delight, the hotel was
busier than it had been all year. Yes, those articles had been
potentially damaging, but they had brought plenty of people flocking
to investigate. And, she was glad to note, that Max Samson had
nothing to do with any of it. Not this time. She swept off down the
stairs to bait Kate a little.
Rocky was also over-worked, struggling to cope with the heavy volume
of luggage to be transported up to guests' rooms. He backed out of
the luggage room, pulling a metal cage filled with cases in front of
him. Completely blind as to what was going on behind him, it was
therefore no surprise when he backed right into someone who had just
walked through the automatic doors.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry!" he squealed, "I didn't see you there…" His
voice tailed off when he saw the man he had just collided with. "Mr
Booth!" he exclaimed.
Jake Booth grinned at him, and shook his hand warmly. "Hello,
Rocky," he said, "looks like you could do with a hand there?"
"Oh no, Mr Booth," Rocky spluttered, "I couldn't possibly…"
"Nonsense," insisted Jake. "You lead the way, I'll bring the cage."
He shrugged off his coat, dropped his luggage at his feet, and
grabbed hold of the cage, as Rocky navigated.
Kate emerged from her office, with Vince still muttering behind her,
and stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted Jake helping Rocky
across the foyer.
"Jake?" she said in amazement.
"Sorry, Mum," he smiled, "urgent business to attend to." He gave her
a quick, cheeky wink, and they moved off again. Then Kate noticed
Nicola, helping Tracey pull pints behind the bar while Benito took a
well earned rest. She smiled softly, feeling a faint sense of pride.
Her children, back around her, pitching in and helping out their
friends who needed them. It was like old times again, like when she
and Patrick…
"Kate!" bellowed a familiar voice from the bottom of the
staircase. "Would you perhaps like to explain to me why there are
two members of the public working as porters and bar staff in my
hotel?"
Kate rolled her eyes. Angel was exactly what she didn't need right
now. "Jake and Nicola…" she began, but Angel cut her off with a wave
of her hand.
"I know who they are, Kate," she hissed, "and I know what they're
doing. What I don't know is why. I don't need your offspring
cluttering up my reception and getting in my staff's way."
"Angel!"
"Get them out of my sight, Kate!" Angel smirked at her. "Or I might
forget I'm a lady…"
She swept off again, leaving Kate red-faced and very, very annoyed.

Rio placed the small bunch of flowers beside the stone, and sank
back down onto her knees. Beside her, Scott looked thoughtful and
emotional. She squeezed his hand.
"Did you love him, Scott?" she asked. "I mean, did you really love
him? Or was it just, I dunno, experimenting?"
Scott sighed and shrugged slightly. "I don't know," he answered
honestly. "I feel… I cared about him so much, but love? Who knows.
Maybe."
Rio nodded, not really understanding. "You miss him," she said
simply. It wasn't a question, more a statement. Scott nodded at her.
"Yeah, I do. Every day."
They sat in silence for a while, staring at Cameron's grave and just
thinking.
Some distance away, a solitary figure was standing amongst the trees
watching them.

Phil put down his magazine and stretched as Nicola shut the room
door behind her.
"Where have you been?" he asked her, "you've been gone for ages and
ages."
Nicola rolled her eyes at him. "I haven't been gone that long," she
tutted, "I was helping out behind the bar."
Phil almost choked on his water. "What? The bar downstairs? Are you
serious?"
"Yes. Tracey and Benito were rushed off their feet, they needed me."
She saw the look on his face and shook her head. "No way, Phil," she
said defiantly. "I am not taking up my mother's job offer. No way."
He let the argument go, for now. But he wouldn't let it lie for
long. Anyway, there were more important things to discuss.
"I spoke to Mum earlier," Phil told Nicola. "She asked me to go up
and see her tomorrow. Said she had something important to tell me."
"Sounds ominous."
"Hmm. Speaking of important things to tell…" Nicola groaned as Phil
spoke, she knew what was coming next.
"No, I haven't told her about Billy," she said. "I don't know if
it's a good idea."
"Nic!" Phil said, "a fortnight ago, you were all for cutting the
guy's legs off and now… you're the total opposite. The Billy Taylor
Fan Club."
"No, I'm not," she pointed out, "but we came to an understanding.
He's not that bad I guess. I kinda get him a bit more now. And I
don't hate him. Much."
Phil shrugged. "Well, whatever he said to you that night you had
it out with him must have worked. What did he say?"
"Between me and him," Nicola said firmly. "And it's none of my
mother's business either."
Phil looked at her, rather intrigued. This was all very mysterious.
But he'd get to the bottom of it.

The sun went down, the dinner rush sent Vince over the edge and
teetering on the brink of madness, but finally, gradually, life at
Crossroads slowed down rather. The mid evening lull fell on the
hotel, meaning Chloe finally found time to do her crossword, and
Benito had the chance for a quick fag.
Upstairs, Tracey handed Jake a glass of wine and perched herself on
the edge of the sofa next to him. They were relaxing after a hearty
dinner in the restaurant, and it was nice, they both had to admit.
After all the heartache, all the trauma, all the arguments, they
were still friends. Of sorts. At least they could spend time
together without tearing each other's heads off.
At the moment, they were discussing Scott, as they had been for most
of the night. Since he had come back from the States this time,
though, Jake seemed different, softer. He seemed more accepting of
Scott's situation, and less aggressive. Tracey took this as a good
sign.
"Did they sleep together?" he asked Tracey, and she gasped, taken
aback. She sipped her mineral water gingerly and shrugged her
shoulders a little.
"I honestly don't know, Jake," she said truthfully. "I don't think
so. But then… think what we were like at Scott's age."
Jake grimaced. "God, let's not shall we. Let's hope he has more
morals than we did." He took a gulp of wine and breathed out
heavily. "I blame myself, you know Trace," he sighed, "maybe if I'd
been here things could have been different."
"No, Jake," said Tracey firmly. "Whatever Scotty is or isn't, that's
nothing to do with you being in America. He is what he is and that's
that. You and I can't change that. And we shouldn't try."
Jake nodded, and the pair were inching closer and closer to each
other on the sofa. "I was thinking about asking Scott to come back
to America with me, just for a while. I think we need some good
father-son bonding time. What do you think?" He looked wistfully
into the distance. "Patrick and I didn't have the relationship we
should have. And as for Vic, well we barely got to know each other.
I don't want to lose my son, Tracey."
Tracey, lost in his dreamy eyes, nodded dumbly. "I think it's a
terrific idea," she burbled.
God, she thought, staring at Jake's handsome, tanned features, I'd
marry him again in a second. And then she caught herself on, and
shook out of it.
That ship had sailed. And they could never get back on it.
Fortunately.

"The police are looking for you," Sylvia Roberts said, folding her
arms across her chest as she faced Ethan. They were standing in her
kitchen, and when Sylv had answered the knock at her back door, she
had a sneaking suspicion as to who would be there. She was right, of
course. Ethan Black was nothing if not tediously predictable.
"Yes, I know," Ethan sneered. "They have no idea how close they were
to finding me, either. I was only a few feet away from them. Never
mind, the King's Oak PD have never been the brightest in the world.
Sherlock Holmes they ain't."
Sylvia raised an eyebrow. "So the dangerous criminal remains at
large thanks to police incompetence. Typical."
A look of genuine anxiety passed over Ethan's face, very briefly,
but Sylvia still caught it. He composed himself as he spoke. "To be
honest, I've been pleasantly surprised by this Sally Jensen woman.
She's not as stupid, or as corrupt as the others. Pity she's on the
right side of the law, I could use someone like her."
Rolling her eyes, Sylvia leaned against the wall. "To do what?
She'll be no use to you if you're dead. And that's only a matter of
time, isn't it, Ethan? Otherwise you wouldn't be here."
"You know what I'm here for then?"
"Of course I do, I've been expecting you." Sylvia leaned into the
cupboard next to them and pulled out a large brown canvas bag, which
she handed to Ethan. He opened it up, peered inside, and smiled
nastily at her.
"Thank you," he said icily, "I wasn't sure you'd come through for
me. I shouldn't have doubted it."
As he turned to leave, she grabbed his arm. "Ethan," she said
firmly. "That's it. No more. Our debts are paid in full."
He whirled to face her again. "Not til I say so, remember?"
"No." This time there was no argument, no hint of vulnerability in
Sylvia's voice. "I want nothing more to do with you, not now, not
ever. Oh, you can do what you want to me – kill me if you like, I
don't care. Because of you, my daughter is dead, and I'm little more
than an accomplice to it all. You have ruined my life, broken my
spirit. And it stops now."
There was a brief silence, and then Ethan spoke again, softly. "Why
should I?" he wondered.
"Because if you don't, I might say too much." Her eyes narrowed and
she leaned in towards him, prodding his chest with a bony
finger. "Two words: Elden Genarri."
It worked. The colour almost drained completely out of Ethan's face.
He shrank backwards slightly, and battled to regain his composure
once again. "You've done your homework," he said drily. But Sylv
could tell, he was rattled.
They stood, facing each other, each desperate for the other to
crack. And finally, one of them did.
"Debt paid," Ethan said at last. "But you say one word about Elden
Genarri… and you'll wish I had killed you."
He swept out of the house, into the darkness. Sylvia sank to the
floor, overcome by emotion. She sobbed and sobbed, thinking of
Jenny, and Joe, and Jimmy Samson, and poor Sister Grace, and, of
course, Elden Genarri. She just prayed that Ethan kept his side of
this particular bargain.

On the other side of King's Oak, far from the hotel, Billy Taylor
was enduring an excrutiating dinner with Kelly Stanton.
Seated in the plush environment of Fong's chinese restaurant,
Billy's thoughts were everywhere except on Kelly. She was wittering
on about Jonathan Price, as she had done for seemingly hours. She
was like a pneumatic drill, droning on and on in the back of his
head.
Billy was jolted back to reality when he realised that Kelly was
speaking directly to him. "Pardon?" he asked. "I'm sorry, Kelly, I
was miles away."
She smiled seductively and touched his hand lightly. "Yes, I can see
that. Don't tell me you're still thinking about Kate? I thought we'd
agreed she was off limits."
He nodded, somewhat less than convincingly. "Yeah," he agreed, "we
did. It's just… there's a lot of water under that particular bridge.
I can't get my head around this wedding."
"All the more reason to put her out of your mind, hm?" Kelly leaned
back in her seat. "I've got an idea. Why don't we just get roaring
drunk and vent, eh? Get all our feelings towards Jonathan and Kate
out into the open. Could be, I dunno, cathartic?"
Billy stared at her for a second, and then shrugged. Ah well, he
thought, this was one of the worst dates he'd been on in a while
but it may not be a total loss. Could be fun after all.
He picked up his glass and raised it in the air. "Bottoms up!" he
grinned.

Patty fastened up her fur coat and adjusted her hat as she stepped
out of the foyer of the King's Oak General, into the October night.
There was little sign of improvement in Sister Grace's condition,
and Patty had been maintaining a vigil by the woman's bedside for
the past few weeks. Her family, Angel and the children, were
impressed by her devotion, which made Patty feel even worse. They
had no idea why she was really there.
She felt terrible, like a fraud. The hospital staff had treated her
like a member of the family, she had been there so often, and even
Sister Grace's sister, Michelle, was incredibly nice to her. If
things went badly, and Sister Grace woke up to…
Never mind. It couldn't happen, and that was that. Patty tried to
put the grisly thoughts out of her mind. She was no killer, never
had been, never would be. She became acutely aware of the bitterly
cold night, and started fishing around in her handbag for her gloves
before her fingers developed frostbite and fell off. She never saw
the figure lurking in the bushes until it had grabbed her and pulled
her off the path.
She shrieked and started hitting out with her handbag. "Get off me!"
she was yelling, "get yer bleedin' dirty paws off me! Help! Rape!
Rape!"
"Rape? Don't flatter yourself, you stupid old woman," Ethan sneered,
as Patty realised who had siezed her. She wriggled free of him, and
miraculously regained her posh accent.
"What do you want?" she barked. "Scaring a poor defenceless old
woman like that!"
He dismissed her questions and instead leaned in so close to her she
could smell his breath. He hissed into her face.
"Never mind that," he spat, "what did you tell Sylvia Roberts about
Elden Genarri?"
Patty gulped and sighed. She knew this was going to happen.

The morning was little warmer than the night before had been, and it
had kept most people within the confines of the hotel. The
restaurant had been doing a roaring trade over breakfast and morning
teas, and the bar had been predictably busy. The mad rush of new
arrivals had slowed to a steady trickle, and the Crossroads staff
were enjoying the brief respite.
"I need the guest numbers for yesterday, Chloe," Kate said, crossing
the foyer to the reception desk. "I know Virginia usually does all
this, but with it being her day off and it being so busy…"
Chloe smiled sweetly. "I can handle it, Mrs Russell," she said. "If
Virginia can do it, I certainly can."
Kate smiled back, taking the words with the venom they were
intended. She turned, spotted Angel swarming across the foyer, and
then turned back towards her office. "Oh, no," she breathed, "does
the women never sit down?"
"Kate!" Angel called out, "I need you to hold the fort for a while
this afternoon. I have some… business to attend to. Do you think you
can manage?"
Kate blinked. "I'm sure I can, Angel. I have done it before,
remember?"
"Yes," agreed Angel, "and that was obviously a roaring success,
hence the reason I'm in charge now. Any problems, you can call Ryan
on his mobile."
"I'll manage, Angel, really."
Angel nodded briskly and was about to march off, her flouncy gown
swishing behind her, when she spotted her mother tottering towards
her.
"Yoo-hoo, Angela darling!" Patty was calling, as she hurried towards
her. "I wanted to tell you, I need to go away for a night or two.
Something's, um, come up."
She didn't, of course, mention that that something was Elden Genarri
and Ethan Black, but Angel wouldn't care. She had enough on her
plate at the moment. Patty was secretly quite relieved that her
daughter was going barmy, she wouldn't spot that the old woman
was up to anything.
As Patty had predicted, Angel just nodded numbly. "Of course," she
said, "I'm sure the hotel won't fall down without you, Mother. Take
as much time away as you need. Please."
Patty seethed silently, as she swished over to Reception to berate
Chloe for doing her crossword on the desk. Kate, listening silently
from behind, touched Patty on the shoulder. "Take no notice of her,
Patty, she's under a lot of pressure right now. She didn't mean it."
Patty snorted. "Yes, she did."
And then, the relative peace was utterly shattered as the automatic
doors slid open to admit a brash woman, dressed to the nines in furs
and shimmering fabrics, jewels dripping from every orifice on her
body. She was big, loud and incredibly over-the-top. She swaggered
into the foyer, took off her sunglasses and sighed theatrically, and
loudly.
"Boy," she trilled at the top of her lungs in a trans-atlantic
accent, looking around at the furnishings disapprovingly, "what kind
of a whore's palace is this?"
The assembled group of Kate, Angel, Patty and Chloe stared open-
mouthed at the woman, and it was Chloe who broke the amazed silence.
"Bloody hell," she whispered, "who's that mad old tart?"
A beat, and then Kate chuckled in embarrassment. "That old tart,"
she said incredulously, "is my mother."
She paused and rolled her eyes at them. "And believe me, you ain't
seen nothing yet."

Phil stared around his mother's neat little flat, and felt a glowing
sense of pride. He was thrilled that she had done so well for
herself, when he thought how close Brian had come to destroying her,
destroying them both, he could feel that little ball of anger build
up inside him again. But he pushed it down again, after all that was
what caused half of the trouble in the first place.
Julie came into the lounge and placed two cups of tea on the table
in front of them. She plopped herself down on the sofa next to Phil
and smiled radiantly at him.
"Is the Smurf asleep?" he asked, and she nodded.
"Just," she added. "He's a good sleeper all in all. When I think
back to when you were his age, you couldn't get through an hour
without screaming the place down. You never really changed either."
Phil looked embarrassed. "Mum," he whined. She ruffled his hair.
"I'm only teasing. You're a good boy, you always were. You've been
my world."
Phil could sense from what she was saying that somehow that was
changing. He raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"What's going on, Mum?" he asked. "What did you want to tell me?"
Julie bit her lip and shifted a little in her chair. "You know the
man I was seeing, Ralph? the one I met through your Auntie Sheila?"
Phil nodded at her. "Yeah, course. You never stop going on about
him. He's a good bloke, Mam, you shouldn't let him get away."
"That's just it," Julie smiled. "He doesn't want me to let him get
away. He's got a new job, up in Aberdeen. It's a wonderful
opportunity for him, and…"
Phil knew where this was headed. "He wants you to go with him,
right? Mam, that's fantastic!"
Julie looked terrified. "Are you sure? Aberdeen's a long way away."
"It's hardly the other side of the world. Nic and I could come and
visit. I'm really pleased for you."
"I haven't said I'm definitely going yet!"
Phil pursed his lips. "Yeah, you are," he grinned, "if I have to tie
you up and pack you and the kid in the boot of the car to get you
there. Oh, Mam, you so deserve this!"
He threw his arms around her, and Julie sobbed a little with
happiness. Well, it looked like her mind was made up for her then.
She was going to Aberdeen.
And Phil would miss her, of course he would. But his mother deserved
her chance at happiness. He only hoped his would come along soon as
well.

"America?" Scott blinked at his father and sat down in the nearest
chair. "You want me to come and live with you in America?"
Jake nodded at him. "Well, not necessarily forever," he
suggested, "but for a little while at least. I just feel you could
do with a break for a bit. Clear your head, you know?"
"You think if I go to the US with you, I'll forget all about
Cameron."
"No, that's not it." Jake paused, trying to find the right
words. "But you and I, Scott, we've become so distant since I've
been gone, and I want to get to know my son again. As a man. Because
that's what you're becoming, Scott, a man. You're not a child any
more. We need to get to know each other on equal terms. Does that
make sense?"
Scott slowly nodded back at Jake. "Yeah, it does. It'd be great.
But…"
"But what? If it's the money, or missing school…"
"What about Mum?" Scott shook his head. "I can't leave Mum, I'm all
she's got. She needs me."
"So do I…"
"No," Scott said calmly. "You don't. But Mum does. How would she
cope alone?"
Jake sighed. "So you're saying no?"
"No," explained Scott, "I'm saying I'll think about it. I'll think
about it seriously. But don't rush me, okay?"
Jake agreed to this. He was privately thrilled at how serious and
grown up his little boy was sounding. Tracey was right, he was no
child any more. He was becoming the kind of man Jake would be proud
of, no matter what his sexual preferences.
After a while, Rio arrived to collect Scott, and they left, off to
do god knew what together. And when they were gone, Jake had an
important phone call to make.
"Kelly?" he said into the phone. "Hi, it's Jake. Yes, just checking
how last night went… Good, good. Just remember, Jonathan and I want
Billy kept as far away from my mother as possible. You do whatever
you have to do… you'll be compensated."
And as they spoke, Jake smiled a satisfied, but rather malevolent,
smile.

Penelope Forbes-Hughes, Kate's bombshell of a mother, was gleefully
holding court in the bar area of Crossroads, astonished guests,
staff and family members surrounding her. This was better than any
entertainment in the Caribbean Sunshine cocktail lounge!
"…So I said to Prince Charles, Charles, darling, that hairstyle
does nothing for you! And he changed it! You see, I taught the
Royals all they know about style and fashion…"
Across the table, watching her with disdain, arms folded in a grim
stance, Patty glared. "I've never heard so much rubbish in all my
life, Penelope Chipping! You've no more met Prince Charles than I've
body-doubled for Britney Spears!"
"Oh, shut up, you old tart," Penelope hissed at her in hushed tones,
just so the others couldn't make it out, "at least I know who my
Katherine's father is. Unlike some…"
"You take that back!" gasped Patty. "I know who Angela's father is.
Cedric Maynard…"
"Is about as real as Santa and the Easter Bunny. Don't forget, I've
known you too long, Patty. I know all the lies, all the secrets."
"Yes," said Patty tightly. "And so do I."
Point taken, Penelope swigged her cocktail. "I won't tell if you
don't." Patty cocked her head and nodded at her.
They leaned back to include the rest of the company, and the show
began again.
"So tell us, Penelope," Patty said grandly, "about the time you told
Marilyn Monroe her knickers were showing…"
"Well!" exclaimed Penelope loudly, "there was this time I met
Marilyn Monroe in Hollywood and I said "Marilyn," I said, "I do
believe your knickers are showing…""

Angel wandered slowly down the corridor towards the small room where
Sister Grace was being treated. It was her first trip to see her old
friend in weeks, since Jimmy had started showing up again. She had
wanted to come, but he wouldn't let her. For some reason, though,
Jimmy wasn't around today. And Angel felt much better. This was
something she just had to do.
Unfortunately, the one person she had prayed she wouldn't see was
the one person already in Sister Grace's room. Her sister, Michelle.
When Michelle saw Angel, she got to her feet and met her in the
doorway. Angel braced herself for another verbal assault, but it
never came.
"I'm sorry," Michelle said simply. "I'm so sorry."
Angel swallowed hard. "Sorry? Sorry for what?"
"For what I said, accusing you of being to blame for all this," she
waved a hand in her sister's comatose direction. "I know this had
nothing to do with you. I know you aren't responsible."
"No," said Angel quietly, "it was…"
"Ethan Black. Yes, I know." She grasped Angel's hand. "And he'll get
what he deserves, I'm sure of that. He won't get away with what he
did to my sister, and your son."
Angel nodded at her numbly. "The police will have to find him first.
Easier said than done with Ethan, of course."
Michelle fixed her with a defiant stare. "They'll get the pig. They
have to." She picked up her bag from the table nearby, and moved
towards the door. "I'll leave you alone for a while, there must be
things you want to say."
When Michelle had gone, Angel took up a position sitting next to the
bed, holding Sister Grace's hand tightly and sobbing. "I'm so sorry,
Grace," she weeped. "I should have come sooner. I wanted to… God,
how I wanted to…"
While Angel cried and poured her heart out to the comatose Sister
Grace, Michelle was having a chat with the doctor in charge of the
case.
"So you think she's improving then?" Michelle was saying
incredulously, and the doctor said he did.
"She's responding to more stimuli, her brain waves are more stable.
I'd say there's a very good chance of recovery. The swelling has
gone down, and all in all the prognosis is looking up."
Michelle was delighted and couldn't hide it. But she had one more
question.
"Is she going to wake up?"
The doctor smiled kindly. "Yes," he said, "I think so. And sooner
rather than later, I'd say."
Michelle gasped and smiled happily, shaking the bewildered doctor's
hand furiously.
A porter passed them pushing a wheelchair, a nasty look on his face.
As he passed Sister Grace's room, where Angel was still keeping a
vigil, he glared and swore.
"Sooner rather than later?" Ethan hissed, unrecognisable in his
poter's disguise and wig. "Not if I've got anything to do with it
she won't…"

Rio and Scott were walking arm in arm through the grounds of the
hotel, the bracing October wind blowing hair into their faces and
making them step up the pace a little.
"She's your great-grandmother?" Rio was asking, trying to get the
relationships between Penelope and everyone else clear in her
head. "She seems like a bit of a wacko, if you ask me."
"She is," agreed Scott, "she's also a spiteful, manipulative, social
climbing old witch. That American accent's put on, you know. She
comes from Cobblethwaite. She was vile to Gran when she fell
pregnant with my dad."
Rio snorted at him. "What would she say about you and Cam then?"
Scott smiled at her, the first time he'd smiled properly since
Cameron had died. It was great having Rio back after all, despite
everything she had done and everything that had happened. He needed
a friend right now. And as for going to New York with Jake? Well,
anything was possible.
As they wandered down the hill back towards the hotel building, they
spotted that same person who had been, unbeknownst to them, watching
them at Cameron's grave. They stopped in front of the figure and
shifted uncomfortably on the spot.
"Mrs York," Scott acknowledged, nodding slightly at her. "Can we
help you?"
Betty York pulled her coat closer to her body to keep in the heat,
and gave Scott a sad smile. "Yes, I hope you can, " she said. "I
want you to tell me about my son."
Scott and Rio looked at each other, puzzled. "Tell you what?"
Scott asked.
"Everything," Mrs York replied. "I've lost my son, but I don't want
to lose him without knowing who he really was. Please, Scott, I want
to know about you and him, about that part of his life. I don't want
any arguments, I'm not here to cause a scene."
She brushed a tear from her face. "Tell me about the real Cameron
York."
Scott glanced at Rio one more time, took a deep breath, and began.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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This is a page from the Crossroads 2003 & Beyond group, a fan fiction site that has written a continuation of the series since its television finale in May 2003. Click the link to visit the group where you can join in with plot discussion and write episodes!