I guess that's the point at which everything started turning out right again.

Hmm. Where to start?

Elliot Carr refused to defend Suzanne when the whole thing came to trial, at which point Henry basically left her hanging - he wouldn't admit to anything she claimed, denied he'd let her use use his cabin in the Catskills (which, incidentally, was how Adie tracked us down, that and the anti-theft tracker installed in Joe's car), had no record of Carl ever working for him, that kind of thing. She did her best to blame the two of them, but to little avail.

I can still remember my days in court: she sat, ramrod straight, in the dock, doing her best to appear the manipulated innocent. Unfortunately for her, the judge and jury weren't buying it, helped by Melissa, my and Adie's testimony. Martin took the stand as well, facing a series of questions about his relationship with Suzanne, in which it came out that she'd made it, as he put it, "very plain" that she was open to an affair with him five years ago, and he'd gently turned her down. The things that struck me were that it was evident that he was genuinely sad and sorry for her, and that, just as clearly, she didn't know how to deal with that.

In the end, she broke down in court when she was found guilty, on several charges, and was led away sobbing. I found it hard, despite my first-hand experience of what she'd done, not to pity her.

Henry Kowalski got away scott free, at least as far as the courts were concerned. Martin did, however, sever their business relationship the first chance he got. On a happier note, Adie, in his quiet, matter of fact way, pleaded self-defence in the matter of Carl's death, and the court found in his favour.

Tom England's inquest returned a verdict of accidental death. I attended his funeral, mostly because Melissa did and there was no way I was going to let her go alone. He'll probably be remembered as one of the great vocalists of our era, but I think both of us will remember him for a different reason.

If there's another copy of that DVD, it hasn't surfaced yet. Suzanne's laptop, on which it was made, has been wiped, as have the original tapes, and I destroyed mine.

They reopened the files on Trish's death. Justice was done. I'd like to be able to say I received an apology from her father, but I guess some hurts take time to heal.

I asked Elaine Gray, a while after that, why she wouldn't have Matt's inquest reopened. She just smiled, sadly, at me. "I know the truth," she said. "So do you. And the person who needed to hear forgiveness did. Let it lie."

Christie, as good as her word, flew over to England in the weeks after it had all settled. We had a long, cosy chat, in which I told her everything that had happened, in more detail than I think I told anyone else, including Greg. Once we were done, she leaned back in her chair, and smiled at me. "So. Still want to play keyboards for Winter's Shadow?"

I grinned, shook my head. "I'd love to. But there's only one of me, and I'm not leaving Secret Muse."

She made a face, then laughed. "I'll break it to the girls gently."

"Were you serious about wanting a keyboards player?" I asked.

She nodded. "Definitely."

And that, I guess, is that. I think we've all realised that the mess we got into was all about not talking. We do that a lot more, as friends as well as band members, these days.

Lucy Sterling's flying to San Francisco in a couple of weeks, as Winter's Shadow's new keyboards player. I think she'll fit in perfectly, and she'll have Christie to keep her from making the same mistakes I did.

I've returned Rebecca's scrunchie to Kev. He says he's still going to wear it when he plays, and he doesn't do coke any more. He still argues with Darren every chance he gets, mind.

Darren's going for surgery on his wrist as soon as we're done with the second album. The surgeon's confident it won't affect his playing once it's healed, and we're all supporting him. In the meantime, we've slowed down our schedule for finishing the album, and only record guitar parts in short bursts on the days when it's not paining him so much.

Paul hasn't changed: he and Sarah spend time together, studying the Bible, when they can: as far as any of us can tell it's still a purely platonic friendship. As for Sarah, she's still working for Blue Flame, but now she's Martin's PA.

Greg's fine, now: Joe pretty much saved his life by applying pressure to the wound as soon as it happened, and he was out of hospital inside two weeks. We've talked, a lot: I said a lot of things I should have said ages before. He knows what happened between Melissa and I. As for getting married? He admits that his proposal was a last-ditch attempt to get my attention, when he saw me slipping away from him and couldn't understand why. We've discussed it, and I think we agree that neither of us are really ready for it yet. But who knows what the future will bring?

The same isn't true for Mum and Andrew. They're engaged, and getting married next spring. Mum looks younger every day, and the pair of them are really quite appallingly sweet together.

Me? I've stopped drinking. When we're done with the album, which, by the way, is going to be called 'Give and Take', I've been asked if I'll record a couple of TV commercials about drinking and driving, targeted particularly at girls my age. I'm not sure quite what to say, but I'm going to give it a go.

Which just leaves Melissa. The hardest thing, by far, was persuading her to come home. She was convinced that she'd blown it, that Mum would be quite justified in not wanting to see her again. Nothing, of course, could be further from the truth.

There were so many things we had to talk about, some easier than others. I think we understand our relationship better now: we've come to terms with what passed between us, accepted it as something that happened in the heat of the moment, and, as Christie would say, moved on.

She has nightmares, not surprisingly after what she's been through. She is dealing with it all, with professional help. I used to lose a lot of sleep listening for her, early on, but nowadays, she's better - some nights there's a soft tap at my door, or a weight on the edge of my bed, and a questioning, uncertain "Ali?". Those times are growing further apart, too, which can only be good.

She'll always be somewhat insecure, vulnerable, I think. That's just part of who she is, part of the whole complex package that makes up Melissa Garcia. But she knows that I came back for her, through my greatest fear, that I wouldn't have left her, and she knows, too, that I love her unconditionally, despite everything that's happened.

We can build on that.