Conversation fell quickly because of the constant realisation of how crazy their leads were. A memory, a phone call, and an address that wasn't technically confirmed, had all been spontaneously obtained, and were their only provisions to find Joe.

Eyes were cast to the floor between knees, or out of the windows for the entire duration which gratefully, wasn't much more than an hour and a bit.

The pattern of rural England continued, and the taxi pulled to a stop outside a sign on a chipped wooden background situated on a stump of stacked slate stones that read The Old Orchard.

Destination reached successfully, the four adults piled out, taking in the luscious environment and the bright yellow sun that shone high up in the spring sky. It was a beautiful day, and it was almost warm enough to discard the jackets that covered each of their shoulders.

"If this doesn't work, I would just like to say we officially have no more money," Brad declared, as the tyres of their taxi crunched down the gravelly road behind them.

It wasn't the most encouraging piece he had delivered, but at least he was being honest with the desperation levels.

"Better hope he's here then," Joey answered flatly, already starting the trek into the private property.

Tom raised an eyebrow.

Leah just shrugged half-heartedly, and the remaining three took his distant behaviour on the chin.

It was muddy underfoot with some drier patches here and there, but the farm had clearly suffered from the heavy rain a few weeks ago and had yet to dry out.

The gates led to a stunning house tucked away around a corner, and it had a cobbled exterior, old, casement windows, and a burst of coloured flower pots that decorated the path leading to the front porch. Surrounding stables that housed few horses fell into view, and where there was a hint of growing crops in distant fields, there was probably an orchard somewhere too, considering the property was named after one.

They found Joe easily, well Joey found Joe, and he was working with a large hayfork which he stabbed into great heaps of fresh, compacted hay to stack next to a tractor.

His attention was stolen when Joey attempted to avoid the thick mud that encircled the workspace, and ended up making quite an entrance.

When Leah began to hear their voices mix in a much awaited conversation, she felt the nerves dance in her stomach because she was walking towards a man who didn't even know her. The last, and only time they had shared each other's company was when it had been ruled by fear and power.

And the more Joe's features came into clarity, morphed with shock, relief, and confusion as he spoke with Joey, the more she flashed back to the shrouded black clothes and the dark eyes. He may have switched them for dirty jeans, green wellies and a shirt rolled over his elbows, but it didn't ease her into the inevitable greeting.

"I-I can't believe you're here," Joe said breathlessly, resting the hayfork against the tractor's trailer. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, smearing dirt across his skin. "How did you find me?"

"A whole lotta luck," Brad chuckled, and went over for a hug, not caring about the mud that squelched under his boots.

Leah had stopped and watched Tom and Brad continue on either side of her, relieved on their behalf seeing the much needed embraces and shaky smiles.

"This is really cute," Tom teased, scratching at the start of a promising goatee that graced Joe's mouth, an arm slung around his friend's shoulders. "He's becoming a real man."

"Hey, cut it out!" Joe whined, wriggling free to smooth down his face. It did actually suit him, especially with how neat he was keeping it, but the breaking smiles and the exchanges couldn't last forever, and the moment Joe clocked Leah's existence, his happiness took a pause.

"Hi Joe," Leah offered quietly, disappointed with how weak her voice sounded. The loose strands of her hair tickled her cheeks in the soft breeze.

Joe stood still in recognition. It kept him silent for a few moments, and she assumed he could only be remembering the passage of time from almost a whole month ago.

"Hey," he returned. It was short, simple and there was no drag of the syllables. It was just a single word of acknowledgment and maybe, a hint of guilt.

Joe turned suddenly on his heel like he was doing a headcount. Joey had wandered off behind him. Tom was to his right. Brad was to his left, and Leah was in front of him.

It didn't take him a second more to realise.

"Where's Steven?"

If there was one way to kill the mood, Joe had achieved it with flying colours. It went black and white with a cruel, shuffling silence, and he was flicking his attention between the subdued people around him.

"What's going on out here?" Heads turned to an approaching figure past one of the stables. "Joe? Is everything alright?"

The stranger revealed himself as an older man, roughly Joe's height, dressed similar to him, and with extremely white hair that was short, messy, and blew in the breeze. He seemed to gather he had company and very kindly, put a grand smile on his face.

"I thought I heard voices," the old man mused, looking between everyone, including Joey who had since returned to Tom's side.

Joe scratched his thick hair, looking sheepish.

"Yeah. Yeah, these are my-" He stopped as he caught Leah's eyes. She saw the regret again, but he managed to continue his welcoming hand gestures. "These are my friends. Guys, this is Frank."

"Ah, the ones you mentioned? What a handsome bunch of young lads, but who might this lovely lady be?"

"Um, yeah this is-"

"Leah." She saved Joe's stumble, smiling politely to soften her nerves. "I'm a new addition to this lot."

It was uneasy, waiting in the deciding silence. Joe had done his part with a brief introduction, and it was down to whatever was behind the old man's smile.

"Well," Frank said definitively, finding the words that no one else could. "We've got lunch on the go, so I suppose you better all come in and have something to eat."

Generosity.

That was behind his smile.

<>

When Leah and the boys were shown inside, they were introduced to Frank's wife, Joyce who was just as bubbly as her husband, and their elderly golden retriever, Elma who made an adorable effort to greet her new guests with a wagging tail, but her attention span was short lived, and she was happy to flop down in her bed in another room.

Lunch was served for seven with baskets of fresh bread, salads, cheeses, hams and chutneys, and with a few extra chairs, they all crowded around the table.

"This is extremely kind of you," Leah said gratefully, buttering a bread roll.

"Mm, and the food is delicious," Joey complimented, occupied with the substantial stack of food on his plate. He seemed less grumpy, but that was probably because he was eating, and he was the furthest seat away from Leah.

"It's there to be eaten," Joyce replied, with a kind smile. She was at the head of the table with her husband on her right and Tom on her left.

"So, Joe tells me you're in a band?" Frank asked, politely addressing the clanking of plates and happy chewers of the spectacular lunch.

Joe, who was sitting next to him, looked up at his name, but when his eyes landed on Leah on the diagonal, they hurriedly flicked away.

"Yeah," Tom supplied, finishing his mouthful. "We are indeed."

"It's Tom, right?"

He gave a smile. "Yeah, that's me."

Frank lifted his elbows from the table, knife and fork in his hands cutting into his lunch.

"Well, I guess I have to ask then, which one of you is the frontman?"

Everyone tensed. It was a second tops, but Leah felt the rise in tension either side of her and across from her. Even Joe seemed to stiffen uncomfortably, and he didn't even know the extent of the situation.

"He's not with us unfortunately," Leah explained hastily, because there was no chance of a response from anyone else. She took a sip from her glass to compose herself. "He's...spending time with his family."

Frank gave her a slow nod. "Right, gotcha."

"So, the farm," Brad enthused, changing the subject. "How long have you lived here?

And that was how the remainder of lunch went. Steering clear from their lives, and instead learning about Frank and Joyce. Anything, so Steven didn't have to be mentioned again.

"Hey Frank, would it be okay if we used the stables for a bit?" Joe asked, once everyone had stuffed their faces. It was probably the first thing he'd actually said. "I'll clean them out after, but I think I need to catch up."

The generous smile appeared again.

"Sure, go ahead, lad. You don't need to ask for my permission."

"Thanks, Frank."

There was a group understanding and after sharing their thanks for the meal, Joey, Tom, and Brad all stood with Joe. However, there was an expectation from the two either side of Leah that she would join them in their catchup, and received confused looks since she remained seated.

"I think I'll help clear things away," Leah told them.

"Oh, you don't need to do that, sweetheart," Joyce assured, already stacking a few plates.

Frank was taking the empty serving bowls and baskets from the table.

"Please, it's the very least I can do."

Insisting, Leah stood, shooting Tom and Brad a quick smile to let them know they could go on without her.

She didn't really know if her presence would help or not anyway.

The kitchen, when she was led through, was cosy and original. A grand fireplace took up the furthest wall and was used to hang shiny copper pots and pans. A beautiful aga was nestled in between boldly painted light teal units, and the floor consisted of outdoor styled slate slabs to enhance the quirky character.

From the few rooms she'd seen, the home was heart-warming, and matched their tenants completely.

"And how has a young lady like you managed to get mixed up with some Americans?"

Leah chuckled, setting down the last of the things that needed washing up. She thumbed the side of her nose.

"That's a very long, very complicated story."

"Does that long, complicated story involve one of these young men taking your fancy?"

"Oh no, no," Leah responded quickly, a reflex that made the older lady smile behind her greying curtain of neatly layered hair. "Definitely not, no."

Unfortunately, Leah thought of Joey, which reminded her of the crumbling foundations of their friendship. Steven was there too, easily with his turmoil of hurt, and she wondered if the guys had managed to gain anything from Joe. Maybe another bit of luck to set them on their way.

Leah grabbed the patterned tea towel, but became distracted by a photo on the fridge. The shiny square contained a much younger version of Joyce and Frank with two late teenage boys in front of them, who she could only assume were their children.

"We're just...friends," Leah voiced distractedly, squinting a little at the smiling boy on the right with long, dark hair and a handsome structure to his face.

"That's how it begins," Joyce said knowingly, over the running tap of hot water.

Leah dragged herself away from the photo, re-joining the older woman's side.

"I promise you, it's not like that." She smiled at the stupidity, and picked up a plate to dry. "Honestly, I'm not sure I could put up with the accent."

Joyce laughed.

"I'm serious! It's so nice to hear people like me again."

"As you wish, my dear."

Leah chose to ignore the growing smile on her own face, and continued drying up until she was dismissed from her polite duties.

She shook out her hair, and re-tied it with a plan to find the guys in the stables, but the photo on the fridge stole her attention again.

"That's Paul on the left and Timmy on the right," Joyce said fondly, sliding the final plates into cupboards beside her. "Joe reminds us of Timmy quite a bit."

"Yeah," Leah agreed, skimming over the similar features again. "I can see the resemblance."

"Liked his hair long and was a quiet soul, but you always knew he was there."

"Have they met?" she asked, glancing at Joyce who had come to share her stance.

There was a heavy pause.

"Timmy died almost twenty years ago."

"My god," Leah gasped, as her heart dropped. "I'm so sorry I-I-"

"It was a long time ago," Joyce interrupted gently, but there was a great sadness behind her warm, blue eyes. A forced smile that was strong, yet decorated with nipping memories. "But, it's been a lovely reminder for us, Frank especially. Having Joe around has given him an opportunity to spend time with him. Time that was taken from us too soon."

Leah sympathised with a pull of her brow, taking the positive that was given, until a patter of feet trotted across the slate stone and instantly brightened the mood.

"Which is why we eventually got Elma," Joyce said, sending a smile to the dog that made a beeline for her owner.

"Ah, has no one been giving you any attention?" Leah crouched as the retriever sat down in front of her, tail wagging across the floor.

Elma's cute face was splashed with tougher, white fur instead of the golden colour that matched her thick coat, and she was very much enjoying the scratch behind the ears.

"How old is she?" Leah asked, looking up at Joyce cleaning a few of the kitchen surfaces.

"She will be fourteen next month."

"Wow, really? She looks very healthy."

"She's very well loved," Joyce chuckled, damp cloth in hand. "Spoiled rotten most of the time."

"Of course." Leah smiled again, and Elma made a noise of confirmation. "That's the only way to treat your pets."

"Elma! Elms!" Frank whistled, poking his head into the kitchen. He clapped his knees. "C'mon old girl, let's go for a little stroll."

Elma stayed next to Leah even after she stood up and brushed a few lone dog hairs from her sleeves.

The couple were amused at the lack of enthusiasm.

"Well then, I see how it is."

"Go on Elma," Leah ushered, addressing the big brown eyes that looked up at her. When she only got a wagging tail as a response, she decided to start walking over to Frank, and as suspected, the retriever followed her obediently.

"It seems you have obtained a new companion," Frank noted, as they walked through the house.

"It happens a lot at work," Leah admitted, looking down at the dog that was matching her pace. "But it tends to be the other way round."

Frank found her comment funny, but it sent him into a coughing fit as he bent down to clip on Elma's lead.

"Here, let me," Leah offered, taking the lead from his hand, and attaching it to the collar underneath Elma's coarse fur.

"Thank you," he said, tapping a fist to his chest between his green half-sleeved puffer.

Leah frowned with concern at the chesty coughing, but he recovered and cheerfully reached for the door with his dog by his side.

"You seem to know these Americans quite well."

"Yeah," she replied, slipping on her shoes. "I've been stuck with them the last month, so I've learned a lot about them."

Frank was waiting for her on the porch, but his warm smile faltered into a serious press of his mouth. It was like he was expecting her answer, and just wanted her to see it.

"Then you should know that since Joe's been here, he's been sick," he said hoarsely, a pull of his tufted eyebrows down over blue eyes. The lines in his forehead deepened. "He tries to tell me he's fine, but I know the symptoms he's been hiding."

Leah realised what he was alluding to. The similarities in looks and personalities. The drug habits that possibly, and most likely led to an overdose. The death that happened almost twenty years ago, and had been brought back to life when he saw Joe.

Maybe Frank saw a second chance in him, like a life that needed correcting and put on the right track. What he couldn't do for his son, Timmy, he wanted to make sure he did right with Joe. An act of redemption to seal his regret. A kind heart that needed to be put to use and share a buried portion of fatherly love.

In a funny sort of way, Leah felt responsible for Steven, except she didn't have the wisdom of this old man to notice the hidden signs of his health. Maybe, she was responsible for him leaving and because of that, his fate would end up like Timmy's.

Another life taken too soon.

"I just thought you should know," Frank said, squeezing her shoulder affectionately.

She could see the great sadness from the wrinkles around his eyes, which was exactly the same emotion she had seen in his wife, but the distraught blame that they had outlived a child had only toughened their shells with an appreciation of life whenever it crossed their path.

Frank looked down at Elma, her fluffy ears perking up with his attention.

"C'mon my girl, let's go down to the river."

With a final sad smile, Leah was watching the back of Frank slowly retreat down the path with a happy Elma trotting by his side.

Alone, she didn't quite know what to do with herself.

"Hey," a voice greeted, pulling her from her littering thoughts.

Leah turned to her new company, and noted his party of friends that tried not to watch the scene unfold from the bottom of the path.

She'd barely moved since Frank left.

"Hey," she echoed.

"I'm really sorry for what I did." Even with the gap Joe had left between them, she could see the deep brown eyes that showcased his regrets and provided his honesty.

It was like she was looking into a different man with a new purpose, and he didn't scare her this time.

"I know I didn't go about it the right way and I've had a lot of time to reflect on that. And I just want to say, I'm really glad you're okay."

His apology was short and sweet, but it felt weighed with something else. Like it wasn't just her he was apologising to.

"I'm glad you're okay too," Leah said, feeling obliged to share her appreciation.

Joe smiled a little, and rubbed a hand behind his neck. Stronger muscles in his arms from labouring the past month strained the fabric of his shirt.

"And thank you for helping the guys."

"Did they tell you...?" Leah asked reflexively, but her question faded with the sensitive subject. The hard swallow that followed was a reminder. "About...Steven?"

"Yeah," Joe replied tensely, dropping his hand. He looked stricken with hurt. "They did."

When the gloom of the unknown settled and waned their conversation, it came as a grateful distraction when Elma's distant barking drew their attention to the direction of the muddy tracks.

"A car maybe?" Leah suggested, because it didn't sound distressed. It sounded more like a property owning bark.

"Yeah, maybe..." Joe trailed off, and started walking for a better view.

Leah followed him and they met with Tom, Brad, and Joey who had been waiting for them. However, there was no time for a discussion because it was the exact moment a rumbling engine revealed a dirty, silver Land Rover bouncing up the private tracks.

It rolled to a controlled stop in front of them all, and five sets of eyes were staring at their new company. The confusion over the unexpected guest would have been shared, except Joe, who stepped out from their rough semi circle, seemed to recognise the man after he had hopped down into the mud.

The clarity of his face made Joe scrunch up his.

"Will?"

"Hello Joe. Good to see you again."

Will was another Brit, young, with a slim build, dirty blonde hair parted to the right with a floppy quiff, and he wore scarily tactical black and dark grey clothes.

"I hate to break this little reunion you have going on here, but you guys need to come with me."

Joe slowly pointed at him. "How the-what?"

"Don't worry about your stuff or the goodbye's- it can all be sorted out afterwards. You just need to come with me," Will addressed calmly, and then scanned over the rest of the stunned faces.

When he saw Leah, he seemed to frown, and it made her swallow her tongue more than she already had.

"Sorry, who is this?" Joey interrupted, stepping forward. "Who are you?"

"Will Darlow. Private Detective and Special Agent," he explained with clean professionality, and whipped out the side of his jacket to flash a shiny badge. "Good to meet you Joey, properly."

"Who the hell hired a Private Detective?" Brad retorted next to him.

"Ray Tabano hired me and-"

"Shit, is Ray okay?" Tom threw back, sending another curveball for the young Brit.

"He is now, yes. Look, can we deal with questions on the way?"

It was a bit rich to expect the five of them to willingly jump into his car without knowing who he was, why he was there, how he found them, and what it was he wanted, but clearly Will didn't seem to think so.

Joe was a slight exception, and his intense frown suggested he was probably deciphering why he was familiar with this man.

"Not until you tell us what's goin' on," Joe responded firmly, standing his ground. Leah looked at his stiff shoulders and the clean shaven side of his face. "And what you're doin' here instead of working behind a bar."

Will took a healthy pause like he was finally giving in to his abrupt appearance. He looked steadily at Joe, and then he turned to everyone else.

"I've found Steven," he declared sharply. No nonsense. No messing. "And we're going to get him."

<>

A/N:
Haha, do you guys remember Will??? I know it's been a while but bam! I bet you weren't expecting that! 😂😂