Chapter 1: The Unlikely Policeman

A few months before his daughter's birth, James Hathaway called his sister to suggest they have lunch and 'catch up.'

"Are you all right, James?" Nell asked. "You're not ill, are you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You have never in all our lives wanted to 'catch up'. I thought perhaps you need a kidney."

"I'm not trolling for spare parts, Nell. Do you want to have lunch or not? I'm free on Saturday."

"I'm spending Saturday at Dad's. Vangie has the day off."

"Vangie?"

"James! I told you I hired a caregiver for Dad after he left the flame on under the kettle and nearly burned the house down."

"Yes, of course I remember," he said, though it had, in truth, completely slipped his mind. "I just forgot her name."

Nell had called him in a panic the previous fall, telling him that they needed to do something. Dad was getting more and more forgetful. Phillip Hathaway had put the kettle on to boil and then forgot about it. A tea towel sitting near the flame had caught fire, which spread to the wooden cabinet and then the curtains over the sink. A neighbor had seen smoke coming from the kitchen window and called the fire department.

Nell arranged for the kitchen to be repaired and she moved in with their father until a caregiver could be found. When it came to their parents, Nell was in charge, despite the fact that she was younger than James by almost five years. She had an overdeveloped sense of obligation and a much less fraught relationship with them.

When she was barely twenty, Nell had shouldered the burden of their mother's cancer treatment as Phillip simply couldn't cope with her illness. Nell had cared for their mother, drove her to doctor appointments and chemotherapy treatments and tried to get her to eat, all the while angry with James for what she perceived as his neglect.

James had done his best, which, admittedly took the form of visits that were too short and not nearly as frequent as they should have been. It wasn't surprising that Nell saw it as inadequate. James would agree with her on that account.

"Why don't I come by Dad's on Saturday," James said. "I can bring takeaway for lunch."

"I'm going to put you to work," Nell said. "The house is looking really neglected."

James drove to his father's house on a damp and chilly February day, a lunch of sandwiches and salads from his favorite gourmet shop in a brown paper tote on the back seat of the car. At Nell's instruction, he'd picked up a shepherd's pie for his father who would, she said, turn his nose up at "fancy" food.

He smoked non-stop on the ride from the shop, finishing his cigarette standing next to his car in his father's driveway. He was going to need all its nerve-calming magic to get through this visit. He tossed the butt end on to the pavement and stubbed it out with the sole of his boot. It was time to face his family.

He carried the food into the house and looked around. Nell was not exaggerating. The house has fallen into disrepair as happens when people become old and tired. Through his work, James has been in many homes that smelt of dust and old cooking grease and neglect. Sometimes the scent of dry rot clung to his clothes like a spectral emission.

Nell greeted him from atop a step ladder, pulling items out of the cupboard and inspecting them. "He's got tins of food that expired before Mum died," she said. "Some of them are bulging on top. And mice have gotten at some of the boxes."

"Where is Dad?"

"In the lounge, watching reruns of 'The Big Catch'." Nell climbed down from the ladder and began placing the tins and boxes to be discarded in a bin bag.

James steeled himself and went in search of his father. It was easy to find Phillip with the telly turned up so loud. He barely looked up at his son's approach.

"Hi Dad," James said, crouching next to his father's chair. "How are you?"

"What are you doing here?" his father asked. "You never come 'round. Don't bother me now, I want to watch my show."

"Sorry, Dad," James said with a shake of his head. Their relationship had always been strained. James would have been surprised at a warm welcome. The testiness was more recent, possibly a result of Dad's confusion.

James would like to lay the blame for this visit on Lia, but that would be grossly unfair. She was not one to push him past his limits. She simply opened the door for him. It was always up to him to go through it.

One evening as they had been getting to know one another, he had broken down and told her how concerned he was about his ability to be a good father. There were things in his past that made him wonder if he was capable of healthy relationships.

Seeking out therapy was something he'd avoided as an adult, and his parents had refused any counseling for him when he was young. Perhaps because it had been bottled up for so long, that evening the story came spilling from him, an out of control torrent.

They had just finished dinner and hadn't yet turned on the lamps. Sitting in the darkening room made it easier somehow to talk about the things that had happened to him in his childhood. Lia had stayed quiet, holding tight to his hand in the dark, letting him speak. He hadn't told anyone since the story had been forced out of him when he was a child. He hadn't even been able to tell Robbie, the person he felt closest to in the world.

But Lia needed to know before the baby was born. The thought of harming his child worried him terribly, and he feared he wouldn't be able to judge his own actions. He knew he didn't have it in him to be an abuser, but there were many ways his past could damage his relationship with the child.

James told Lia about the family leaving Crevecoeur when he was twelve, after his mother connected the dots of why her son refused further piano lessons. He wouldn't say why-he'd been warned to keep his mouth shut. But the signs were there: young James wasn't sleeping, wasn't eating and was scratching himself bloody.

His mother had always been a moody person, and looking back, James thought perhaps she had suffered from depression. That she had pulled herself out of her own mind, albeit briefly, to save her son was a miracle.

James' father had not dealt well with leaving the only life he'd known since he was barely out of his own boyhood. Phillip started drinking too much and became critical of everything James did and didn't do. When he'd had too much booze, he would become physical with his son. Only James. Thank God, Dad had never hurt Nell or Mum.

James had become very good at gauging how much his father had to drink. The danger point was somewhere between when Phillip's words began to slur and when he passed out. James had learned when to make himself scarce. But at the beginning of summer break the year he turned fourteen, he misjudged and didn't get clear in time.

After cuffing his ear, Phillip had shoved James against a wall, hard enough to dent the plasterboard and leave him concussed. His mother was so afraid when James seemed dazed and sleepy that she drove him to A&E.

Unfortunately, the medical staff did not believe the story of a clumsy teenager bumping his head and they referred the case to child protection services. After investigating they decided Nell could stay in the home, but it would be safer if James was placed in care. His friend's parents stepped in and James stayed with the McEwan's that summer.

Phillip did turn his alcoholism around eventually, though it wasn't until James was in his twenties. Unfortunately, the damage was done and he never felt comfortable with his father again. As soon as he was old enough, James found work during school breaks, always where he could get housing provided. Sometimes, the housing was a bit scary, but it was safer than home.

He had forgiven his father long ago, back when he was in seminary. It hadn't been easy, but after much reflection he let go of the anger. But forgiving is not forgetting, and James still found it hard to spend time with his dad.

Children blame themselves for things beyond their control and that was certainly true of James. He felt responsible for not being able to hide what had happened to him in the summer house. That first mistake was only compounded by not getting out of his father's way in time and landing them all in trouble with the social services people. As an adult, James understood that these things were not his fault. But self recrimination came far too naturally to him.

That night, James finally came clean with Lia about his near-estrangement from his family. She put her arms around him, but offered no advice, which had been a relief. He was tired of being told he needed to move past his childhood from people who had not lived through that hell.

Lia did, however, ask some careful questions. Did he want a relationship with Nell? What about with his father? Did he feel safe re-establishing contact with Phillip? And most importantly, what would bring James peace? He didn't have answers that night and she hadn't pressed him.

"I'm going to see if Dad is ready for his lunch," Nell said as she left the kitchen.

Phillip insisted on eating his lunch in front of the television. "He's going to drop it all over himself," Nell muttered as she warmed the pie and arranged the meal on a tray. "He listens to Vangie, thank God. It's easier just to give in when she's not here."

While Nell got Phillip settled with his lunch, James unpacked the sandwiches and salads and set the table for lunch.

"So, how does this 'catch up' thing work," Nell asked as she speared some lettuce in her salad. "I'll be honest, nothing new is going on in my life except trying to keep Dad sorted. I'm going to assume you have something you want to catch me up on."

"There is actually," he said, clearing his throat. "I'm going to be a father."

"The priesthood again?" Nell asked, smirking. She took a bite of salad.

"Not that kind of father."

Nell's eyes widened and she stared at him in silence, mid-chew. James thought that if this was what it took to shut up his little sister, he'd have tried it sooner.

"I didn't realize you were seeing anyone," Nell said, when she'd recovered her voice and swallowed her bite. "Not that I would know, I suppose, since you never call."

"As it happens, I hadn't been seeing anyone, I mean before this. And I called you."

Nell gave a nod of acknowledgment that he had been the one to call. "So was this a one night stand?"

James felt the color rise in his face. "Yes. And before you go on, I will stipulate that this is totally out of character for me, completely shocking, absolutely scandalous, a mortal sin and whatever else you might be thinking."

"You're taking all of the fun out of this for me, James. So, tell me about this woman with whom you've sinned."

"I think you'll like Giulia. She's a lovely person and far more decent than I have any right to expect."

Nell tilted her head and regarded him thoughtfully. "Did it occur to you that she might say the same about you?"

"That's very kind of you. It's making me a little nervous."

Nell grinned, and kicked him lightly under the table. "Are you together?"

"Not in the traditional way. Most people get to know each other, make a commitment and then have children. We took things completely out of order and are only now getting to know each other. I have no idea if we'll ever be at the point where commitment is even a possibility. I cannot imagine what Mum would have said to all this."

"She would have been happy to have a grandchild. Though, I can't help but think Mum would have been thrilled if you were pursuing the priesthood again."

"She was very disappointed when I left the seminary. I didn't think she'd ever forgive me."

"She wasn't terribly pleased when you joined the police, for that matter. Said you were, what was it ... an unlikely policeman."

James snorted. "A witness once said I was 'odd for a policeman'. Then again, he was a psychiatrist and quite pompous."

"Why did you become a policeman?" Nell asked. "It seems an odd choice for someone so cerebral."

"I wonder at it, myself. Maybe because it seemed far from the cerebral. Not that there isn't a lot of logic and knowledge involved in police work, especially in Oxford. But we deal more with the gritty side of things. I guess policing feels more tangible than academia or even the religious life."

"Do you like it?"

"Some of the time," he said. "I have a great boss. I trust him completely. But there are times when I hate seeing people at their worst."

"I'm loath to bring this up, but at some point we have to talk about Dad. His dementia is getting worse and I don't know how long we can manage with a home caregiver."

"I know. We will need to talk about it," he said. "Do you think I should tell Dad about the baby?" He couldn't predict his father's reaction to a grandchild, especially with the recent changes in Phillip's personality.

"Not yet, I don't think. He's quite confused these days. Sometimes, he thinks I'm Mum."

"You look like her," James said, gently. Their mother had been very lovely when she was Nell's age.

"It's probably best if he sees the baby once it's born. The concrete is easier for him to understand than the abstract of a future child. When is the baby due?"

"End of June."

On a mild Sunday afternoon in September, when Grace was three months old, James and Lia brought her to meet her grandfather and aunt. Phillip was charmed by Giulia, utterly captivated by Gracie and mildly confused by James. From the look on Phillip's face, James might have seemed familiar as he carried his baby daughter, but recognition was not there. Phillip greeted him pleasantly and asked him who he was.

"I don't think he can place you in the context of your new little family," Nell told him softly.

That made sense to James. He could hardly recognize himself.

Note: I got a very perceptive comment on Unscripted that got me thinking about how James would deal with his childhood in light of impending fatherhood. I've also become fascinated with the James/Nell sibling relationship. I wrote a story, Out of Their Depths, (not in this universe) that concerned their relationship and as I had to really puzzle out what we saw in the last season of the show, I realized I wasn't done writing about the two of them. One thing that had struck me about "Life Born of Fire" was that James had lived with another family when he was 14. While it's sometimes done in healthy families when a move is planned and a child wants to finish school with their classmates, that didn't seem to be the case with James. The other reason I've heard of this kind of arrangement was when there was a troubled or even dangerous home life. ding ding ding. We have a winner.