Yvonne fic

Summary: She doesn't think about the past any more. The 1990's are a blip that mars her otherwise perfect life: a blip filled with unemployment, a cheating git of a husband, and worst of all New Labour.

In short, Yvonne moves on with her life.

Disclaimer: I don't own and am making no money off this.

Warnings: mild language and probable Ron/Yvonne... yeah...

1999

It takes a while for her to realise that Gary isn't coming back. It takes her even longer to accept it. She reports him missing the next day: tears in her eyes and confusion in her voice, neither of which are slightly faked, even if the cobbled together story she and Ron give them is barely a skeleton of the truth. The police aren't particularly interested ; cheating on your wife isn't a crime, (having two wives is of course, but they leave that bit out). The tabloids however, seize on the story, what with her being Baroness Sparrow of Lumbut and all. They twist it into something ridiculous; prostitutes, bigamy, murder allegations (carefully worded to avoid libel of course). Stories even less believable than the truth.

Her mother calls a lot, so does Stella and so does Ron, because apparently she can't get rid of him no matter how hard she tries. They aren't the only ones though; for the first few weeks the phone never stops with the (only slightly smug ) sympathy calls from everyone who's anyone.

The police call too, occasionally, just to let her know that they are still looking for her husband, and probably to check that she doesn't want to confess to sacrificing him to the god of skincare, or whatever the papers are claiming this week. It dies down eventually; when the latest pop nymphet steals the headlines by actually murdering her boyfriend. The last time the police call they all but admit there's not much to go on and they probably aren't going to have any luck finding him.

Three months later the only ones still asking questions are Gary's parents: torn between feeling sorry for her because their son's ditched her for greener pastures, and being half convinced she's killed him.

"I just don't understand why he'd just up and disappear without saying anything," says his Dad for the hundredth time. It's only the fact that she knows he'll never see Gary again either, that keeps her from hanging up.

"I mean if he had found someone else. Why just take off like that? He'd have told you at least. I raised him to be honest. I take it you haven't heard anything then? From the police?"

"No," she sighs, "look I'm very busy at the moment. I'll let you know if I hear anything."

Ron's there again; he's taken to just walking in like he used to, and sitting down on the sofa. "Gary's dad again?" he asks helping himself to a beer.

"Wanting to know why the police haven't found him yet. I don't know what to tell him, but if he doesn't stop calling soon I'm gonna kill him."

"May I suggest a radical solution? Or rather two?" he asks "The first one: tell him his son's a cheating git and to bugger off and leave you alone."

"I can see why Gary used to go to you for advice."

"Harsh I know, but probably more practical than your other option. Tell him that his son's a cheating git and a time traveller, and the only way the police are going to find him is if they've recruited John Claude Van Damme, since we last checked."

She glared at him. "And those are my only options?"

"Well, you could always spend they next 10 years getting a degree in astrophysics and develop a time machine to bring Gary back thus proving to his parents that you haven't in fact killed him."

"Get out Ron."

"Course they'll probably be dead by then too..."

"Get out Ron!"

"I'm going," he agrees reluctantly, and helps himself to another beer on his way out.