"I have to admit, that's not the vehicle I pictured you drive," Viola said.

"Ah, yes," Fiona laughed and patted the driving wheel of her massive truck. "These are awful for the environment! I'd love to have something small and efficient, like the Fiat500 your friend Yola drives, or maybe a hybrid, or even a Tesla, not that it would work in the countryside. But I constantly have to drive Will's equipment for the fire brigade, and then again, my mobiles need so much space for transportation."

"Your mobiles?" Viola thought back at the dainty birds currently decorating her window.

"Ah, I forgot, you aren't attending the school play. I make stage props for the Fleckney Company. The amateur theatre? And last year I started collaborating with several other theaters in the three neighbouring counties. In Autumn I also had a commission from a children's hospital for a large paper mâché mobile for their lobby, and it was such a large installation, I ended buying a truck. I'm actually a wizard with engines," Fiona continued talking, which was simply perfect for Viola. She'd like to know more about her - almost - sister-in-law, and thankfully, Fiona didn't need any encouragement to share information. "It's like I have this... magic! Engines and motors love me. And to think of it, my Grandmother and Mother were herbalists and self-proclaimed psychics, and I can bring any generator back to life. Speak of the irony. And Will doesn't drive as you can imagine. I think he might actually be physically capable of doing it, as he is with most things" she said with a giggle. "I think he just enjoys being chauffeured around."

Fiona drove into the streets of Fleckney Woulds, and after confirming that Viola was also going to the Bake, Fiona kept talking, "The Holyoake men have this built-in laziness in them, usually just a couple of things that they simply refuse to do, don't you think? Some sort of silly stubborn sloth moments. Will doesn't drive. Clem once told me John doesn't fold and hang his clothes, and just sends his shirts to the dry cleaners after one day. It drove her mad at the beginning of their marriage for some reason." Fiona hummed pensively. "I leave my clothes everywhere myself, so I can't see why it would bother anyone, but to each their own, of course. And also, Will doesn't like chopping wood. He kept asking Rhys to do it at Christmas time, to have the fireplace going at Mable's. And they just kept bickering, and Will kept stalling, and then Rhys would just lose patience and go chop it. And I know Will can do it, and he does it in our cottage when he has to, but the complaining! Blimey!"

"Does he actually complain?" Viola asked with a chuckle. She'd never heard Will Holyoake say more than a dozen words at a time.

Fiona snorted and said, "He... sulks. And pretends to be deaf."

"Oh I see." Viola smiled.

Fiola grew silent and drummed her fingers on the wheel. Viola felt the change in the woman's mood, and then Fiona indicated and parked her truck in front of a coffee shop. It was new, Viola hadn't had a chance to visit it since she'd moved back.

"Alright, I'll be blunt," Fiona said decisively and turned to Viola. "I think I need to tell you what happened yesterday after karaoke."

Viola gave the redhead a shocked look. "Fiona, if you'd rather not–"

"It was a very unpleasant episode," Fiona said and looked away through the window. "And there will be rumours, of course, and you'll find out soon, but that's not why I think you should be included. Because I think you normally would be, but it's just Rhys is being stubborn, and despite his horrible pig-headedness, I love him most dearly, you see?"

She gave Viola a questioning look, and Viola shook her head.

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand, Fiona," she said with a soft smile.

"Yes, right," Fiona picked up a pink feather she, for some reason, had in the cup holder between the seats, and twirled it in her fingers. "I just worry that he might, what's called, shoot himself in the foot this way. He's like this massive beast that doesn't know his own strength, and then gets terrified of the destruction he can cause. And I think he never means ill, you see. And they all seem to forget it sometimes. And because he's so easy to be annoyed at, because he's so strong, one can almost forget that he can hurt as well."

Viola herself didn't tend to think in metaphors, but she agreed with the artist's understanding of Rhys' character, she realised.

"I'm still confusing you, am I not?" Fiona said and shook her head. "Yesterday, Semra came to our cottage. There was a man with her, and as Will explained to me later, he was her drug dealer. She was under the influence, and so was he, but she was also drunk and sort of muddled, while the man was on edge, violent, you see?"

"Oh Fiona, I'm so sorry," Viola exclaimed. Worry flooded her. There was a reason why Fiona's 'condition' was once called delicate. "How are you feeling after it?"

"Oh, you mean Teddy?" the redhead asked and folded her hands on her stomach. "I'm quite alright. I didn't see much of them. They rang the door, and I opened. And I could see something was wrong, but I have so little life experience, you see. And they were behaving so odd! And Will showed up a minute or two later, and he just said, 'Go to the bedroom.' The little'uns were sleeping in our bedroom. And I just turned around and ran. I've heard this tone of his before, and I know better than dawdle. Will knows danger when he sees it." Fiona went back to playing with her feather. "And it's so fortunate that it happened in our cottage, not in some other Holyoake home, because he used to be a soldier, as you probably know. And then I heard some noise, and he told me later, sparing me details obviously, that the man got aggressive, and Will had to throw him out. In Will's words, a crippled SAS officer is still a SAS officer. It was quick, the little'uns didn't even wake up. And he stayed with Semra in our bathroom, but she was just crying by then, curled on the floor, and then Sam came and drove her back to the Bonn House."

Viola stretched her hand and covered Fiona's moving fingers. "I'm so sorry, Fiona."

"It's quite alright." Fiona lifted her large thoughtful eyes at Viola. "But then, Rhys came afterwards, and Sam returned, and I heard them argue. Sam blames Rhys for everything, and I feel like now it's become this convenient excuse. And he said that Rhys dragged him to the karaoke, and that it wouldn't have happened if Rhys hadn't. And I just don't think that it's true."

"No, I don't think so either," Viola said, frowning.

"And Rhys just stood there, taking it all," Fiona said. "And I don't like it. And neither does Will. And it turned out this morning, John, Maisie and Julia are all taking Sam's side, and for once Mable isn't defending Rhys either. And I just think family is so important to him! In his own way, everything he does is for their sake." Fiona shook her head. "Given sometimes it feels like he's just bossing everyone around, and he does think he knows better. But in a way, it's better than this new defeated state of his. And then Will said he should call you. He really likes you, you know?" Fiona said, her face lighting up for a moment. "It makes me so happy."

"I like him too," Viola said, feeling uncharacteristically shy. "It's just complicated between us, with all our history."

Fiona stared at Viola for a few seconds, and then burst into a series of charming little laughs. "I meant Will! Will likes you a lot! He said he admired you. I've never heard him say it about anyone!"

"Oh." Viola's cheeks flushed with flattered blush.

"But of course Rhys likes you!" Fiona continued excitedly. "He's madly in love with you! But you see, Will said Rhys should ring you up, because right now, he needs your support, and Rhys said 'no.' He said he'd burdened you enough with it, and that it would just be more of the same as you two had had, I assume he meant when they'd lost their parents. And Will said, no one should be alone at the time like that, but you know the Holyoake men, it's like there is no reverse setting. 'I think so, so it must be true,' should be their motto. And he said you'd had enough stress in your life, and he wasn't going to do anything that would make you... regret coming back to Fleckney. And I don't know you that well, but I thought I'd talk to you, because it doesn't seem like Rhys has that many people on his side right now, and I can never just stand aside and watch something like this. It's just unfair, you see!" Fiona made a little distressed grimace, and squeezed Viola's hands. "Do you think you could go and talk to him? And I'm not telling you what to do! Please, understand that!" she exclaimed, suddenly almost panicked. "And of course if you think that–"

"Fiona," Viola interrupted softly. Their eyes met, and Viola smiled. "Thank you. I will talk to Rhys. And thank you for being on his side. And for telling me what happened, it couldn't possibly be that easy."

"Well, I've had quite a lot of drama in my past as well," Fiona said with a shrug. "I just always had Will to support and back me up if needed. And I don't think Rhys is handling it as well as they all think he is."

"Where do you think he is right now?" Viola asked and looked at her watch.

"He's probably already at the Square. The bake is starting in two hours." Fiona seemed to have shaken off her concern now, and her eyes were shining gleefully. "Last year they were making some sort of a sponge cake. And there are all these families participating in it, and they also make Rhys and two more single men from his crew bake as well, so that there are failures and something to laugh at obviously. But it's all done in good humour, and I think he laughs more than anyone. And then we all get to judge, and buy the cakes, and it's all for charity. It's lovely."

"Fiona, would you mind dropping me off near the baking tent, please?" Viola said, and Fiona turned to her wheel with a wide grin.

"That would be my utmost pleasure," she said and started her truck.