John placed his hand on his father's arm. Before speaking to his father "and what makes you think we would think any differently of you. You raised us into who we all are today. We all still respect and love you." John looked at his father "come on I have to tell mum I'm gonna have to leave again. You know she's gonna chase me with rolling pin!"

Bill looked up at his son, surprised. He was unsure of what to say or how to respond to this brief moment of intimacy, so uncommon in their relationship - in any of Bill's relationships. The secret had put a veil between himself and others. He loved his children, but they were strangers. With the veil pulled back, it was as if he met John at last.

The joke offered a merciful relief on tension and he cracked a smile. "Aye, yer mum won't like it," he said quietly, his mind still on the secret revealed and on the reporter and on his children. "But she cannot blame ye for this one. If the alternative is prison." The word made him feel sick.

John nodded before removing his hand "yeah she will be pissed but hopefully she will understand. Atleast it's not a posting like India was. Most of us were shocked when we got the letter to say we were going over there for the duration. The regiments still out there. Rumour has it they are going to Ireland next. Honestly didn't think I'd get another chance to go back overseas. I thought the recruitment depot would be see me staring at the stone built barrack walls from now until I leave" John lent over the table and removed the first letter revealing the second one below it "you will both be shocked at the second letter though"

Bill wasn't sure whether his heart could handle another shock. He hadn't quite recovered from the last one, though John seemed to have moved on effortlessly. That, he didn't mind. No questions. A promise to keep it to himself. The truth couldn't have come out in a better way. If it weren't for the bloody reporter.

"Well, what is it?" he asked in spite of himself.

John turned the letter to his father "a letter from horse guards....stating that for my actions in India. I'm being awarded the second highest decoration. The Distinguished Service Order for leading the patrol that resulted in saving the lives of the three men that were shot on the same patrol I was shot. That will go well with the three times I got mentioned in dispatches in the London gazette" John also looked round for a dust pan and brush because deep down he knew his mother would have both their guts for garters for making a mess in her kitchen

Bill looked at John. That wasn't the disaster he had anticipated. His son, decorated for his heroic actions. Prison was forgotten. Bill's eyes glowed with pride. If they weren't sitting at the table he might even have hugged John. As it was, he just glowed and said: "I'm proud of ye, son. More than ye can imagine."

John smiled "thanks da. That means alot but I think we should clean up the mess before ma gets home or she will tear us both a new one." John thought for a split second to himself the words his father had said. Were ones he never thought he would hear. His father was always against his career and now here he was proud of what John had achieved. For once in his life. John felt on the same wavelength as the man who raised him. John and probably his father would never have envisioned this day

Bill looked around in a sudden fright. There was tea and cup shards on the floor, a wash basin with black water sitting precariously on a counter top, and soot on the cupboard. Coming to think of it, there was probably soot on the chair as well, since he was still in his work clothes. "Aye, ye're right. Do me a favour, and get me a clean set of clothes, will ye? Yer mum will kill me if I wander round the 'ouse like this. I'll start cleaning up 'ere." He got up but sat back down. "Bloody 'ell." He lifted his foot to look at his wet sock. It was wet from more than tea alone. He pulled a shard out of the wool.

John nodded "on it!" He said as he bounced up and left the room to sort out some clothes for his father. Not only were they on the same wavelength. They were working as a team! A well oiled machine. John returned shortly with fresh clothes for his old man before grabbing a dust pan and brush and beginning to sweep up the broken China. "You go get changed. I'll sweep the floor and wipe the surfaces for you getting sorted"

"Thanks, lad," Bill said, and he took the clothes, stumbled over to the corner of the kitchen and pulled out the dressing screen they used when bathing in the kitchen.