Deadly Choice

by Jack Parker

  "Pardon?"

  "I said penny for them," Linda repeated.

  Kim closed her eyes briefly. She suspected Linda wouldn't give her a penny if she knew what kind of thoughts were going round in Kim's head. For the first time she realised how gluttonous she'd been as she added her third empty packet to the two on the table. She gave a quiet burp which she noticed that Linda looked fairly disapproving about, and said quietly,

  "It's nothing, sorry, just a bit tired.

  "Having second thoughts?"

  Kim looked at her a little strangely.

  "About what?" she asked.

  "Going back to CID," said Linda.

  Kim bit her lip. If she was having second thoughts about anything it certainly wasn't that. The thought of returning gave her motivation and excitement. She shook her head slowly and said,

  "No, just had a funny day at work, that's all."

  "I don't know how you expect to keep up with both jobs when you go back, you know," said Linda, "I don't think tattooing and catching criminals are compatible."

  "I'll manage," Kim said quietly.

  Linda looked at her seriously.

  "I'm just worried about you," she said, "after all you've been through. Your health has to come first, Alex."

  Kim flinched a little. Alex. Way back when, changing her name to avoid being found by Keats when she awoke in 2003 had been a good idea and she had been perfectly happy to live as Alex for many years. But now she was finding it hard to hear that name. Robin didn't call her Alex, he called her Kim. He knew the real her. The people who knew her as Kim knew who she really was but those who called her Alex had only ever seen a shadow of her former self.

  That included her own wife.

  "I'll manage," she said quietly. She pretended to be absorbed in the TV but really her mind was on a million and one different subjects. She looked at the clock and wondered why the hell Robin hadn't called like he said he would. He was supposed to be letting her know if his tat was OK and telling her how it was doing. Aside from that, she just wanted to talk to him. One of them called the other almost every night. No phone call? What was going on?

  She thought about the strange moments that passed after Robin's tattoo was complete. The awkwardness that seemed to come from nowhere, not really knowing how to say goodbye – that had never happened before. Robin hadn't quite seemed himself at all that day if she was honest. She gave a deep sigh which caused Linda to look at her curiously. She bit her lip again. Bloody hell, she'd picked that up from Robin, big-time.

  "Sorry," she mumbled, "I've got indigestion."

  "You've eaten the equivalent of an entire Walkers factory, I'm not surprised," said Linda, a little scathingly. She pursed her lips and commented, a little unkindly, "you've been doing that a lot lately."

  "Doing what?"

  "Stiffing your face," said Linda. She had a serious look on her face. "I've never seen you eat as much junk food as you have in the last two weeks."

  Kim looked away, feeling uncomfortable.

  "So?" she mumbled.

  Linda hesitated.

  "Ever since you were abducted," she said.

  Kim turned away and stared at the TV.

  "So?" she said again.

  Linda took a deep breath.

  "I'm worried about you," she said quietly.

  "I'm fine," said Kim.

  "You've changed." Linda paused but no response came. "Look at you, Alex. It started with your hair, then you stopped wearing make up … you're dressing like my bloody father… you walk down the road and people think you're a man." She hesitated. "Soon you'll walk down the road and they'll think you're a fat man."

  "Excuse me?" Finally she had Kim's full attention. Her mouth fell open as an angry look took over her eyes.

  "If I don't say something then who will?" protested Linda, "you're eating crap, you're drinking loads, you're putting on weight, and yet you're supposed to be getting in the best physical health for this bloody police thing!"

  "This bloody police thing, as you put it," Kim began "means a great deal to me."

  "More than I do?"

  "Don't put words in my mouth," Kim scowled.

  "You've put it above me so far," Linda challenged her, "you totally ignored my worries and went ahead with it even though I didn't want you to."

  "You haven't even tried to understand why it's important to me," "Kim told her.

  "That's all I've bloody tried to do" cried Linda, "but you won't talk to me about it so how am I ever going to understand?" Kim ignored her. It seemed as though she was being rude but in truth that was a can of worms she simply couldn't open. Her eyes turned back to the TV screen and stayed there until finally Linda said, "fine. I'm going to bed. You stay here and concentrate on being a lard-arse and a drunk." She thought that would provoke a response from Kim but she stayed silent. With one last, painful stare Linda turned and left the room.

  The guilt Kim felt was crippling but she couldn't seem to stop her behaviour. She didn't know why. She was pushing Linda further and further away and she felt glad of some time and space, even though she knew that her wife was angry with her. She felt anxiety choking her as she thought about somebody else, someone who'd been in her thoughts lately. She'd thought she was happy enough with Linda, but when she thought back to the love of her life she could see everything that was missing from their relationship. She cursed herself for letting Shaz into her thoughts all the time, but worse than that her mind was drifting more frequently to somebody else too.

  As she stared at the TV she couldn't get the image of Robin out of her mind, laying across the chair, waiting for his tattoo. There was a strange tightness in her chest. It was a weird feeling that she couldn't place. What the hell was that? She closed her eyes and leaned back, replying the afternoon. Something hadn't been quite right between them. Robin had seemed so tense, then his reaction to her seeing his scars had been heart-breaking. Did he think she would think badly of him? That she was disgusted? Why would he worry about that? And besides, her revulsion was only with Keats. Her anger for his actions wasn't easy to hide.

  Her contempt for Keats seemed to just keep finding deeper layers. His level of malevolence was most definitely inhuman. She thought bitterly about what he did to her so many years ago with his array of pills and potions, mixed in with a little hypnosis. One of the parts that made her angriest was how he had managed to steal her sexuality away from herm from right under her nose.

  She was proud of who she was and always had been. That's not to say she hadn't been through the usual trials and tribulations of trying to work out where she stood on the Kinsey scale when she was younger. She'd always known she was interested in women, men just never figured in her thoughts. The idea of ever becoming involved with one just seemed ridiculous to her. She didn't find them appealing, she wasn't interested in their looks or their attitudes. She'd gone through phases of secrecy, lying to herself, then admitting it slowly and hiding it from everyone else. But at the age of fourteen she'd shared her first kiss with a pretty blonde and never looked back. From there on she knew who she was and slowly ceased to hide it.

  Coming out wasn't always easy. It was never possible to judge what kind of a reaction she was going to get. Some friends were shocked; others were only shocked that she hadn't said it sooner. There was taunting and bullying from some quarters but she was stronger than that and overcame it. Coming out to her mother was a hairy experience filled with much coughing and throat clearing, followed by her mother's loud declarations that it was better to get married to a man so that he would be around to open any particularly tricky jars that she had lurking in the kitchen.

  Kim wasn't particularly relationship-minded through her younger years, preferring the occasional drunken snog or one night stand to a committed relationship. It wasn't until she met Sandra that she considered herself as part of a couple, but even so their relationship wasn't ideal. Their work was too important to both of them and after Kim's time in Gene's world there was
little left to hold them together.

  But Kim had only ever been in love once.

  And, she finally admitted to herself, it wasn't with her wife.

  She sat up straight and reached across the table where the bottle of scotch sat. She didn't bother with a glass, she just threw it down her neck. Reminded her of the good old days. She drank a few gulps then leaned back again, trying not to think about the young copper who'd stolen her heart. She had worked for years at burying her memories of Shaz. And she'd succeeded, too. She'd forced her emotions down, battered them into submission, left Shaz shut out in the cold. It was the only way to cope with knowing she would never see her again. When she met Linda she really did love her and they were a good match together but there was always something that wasn't quite right. There was always something missing and it wasn't until a certain song played that Kim realised what it was.

  Hearing their song for the first time in years triggered all the memories and the emotions that Kim had tried to keep buried and all at once she realised that although she might love Linda she wasn't in love with her. She'd only ever been in love once.

  "Shaz," she whispered.

  Remembering Shaz had brought back so many feelings. How had she been living a half-dead existence for so long? She had started to feel emotions again in a way she hadn't felt them in years, but somehow… somehow when she was around Linda she just felt numb. She didn't feel that way around Robin.

  "Robin," she laid across the couch and groaned, her hand over her eyes. Back to that subject again. If it wasn't Shaz on her mind then it was him. What was up with him that day? He really wasn't himself. Had she done something to upset him? She tried to think back to the last couple of weeks. She thought they'd been closer than ever. After Keats's actions they relied upon each other to cope with what they were going through and felt a strong need to be in each other's company. Something had changed between them while they were on that barge, bound together, terrified for their lives. Thoughts about that terrifying day still plagued her but when she thought back to it the only image she still had in her mind was the one of Robin's face so close to hers, the intense words they'd shared and then a moment that she had wanted to take back a thousand times.

  What the fucking hell possessed me? That was the question she asked herself time and again. She threw a hand over her forehead as she thought about it. She tried to replay it again to work out why she did it. What was the moment shat she felt the pull? Something drew her in and it was something she couldn't understand. Something about Robin just –

  His eyes. It was his eyes. They held something within them she'd never seen before. There was something about them that just pulled her closer, shaking from head to toe. She'd never felt anything like it and before she could stop herself she had pressed her lips against his and –

  She felt her heart speeding up just thinking about it. That act made her open her eyes wide in shock. She felt confused as when she found herself kissing him. She had never kissed a man, not in her life – not of her own free will. She couldn't count any of the things that Keats put into her head and made her do. She refused to. That wasn't brought on by her own free will, her own desperate need in a moment of intense emotion. Her need to feel warmth and intimate contact. Her need to bring Robin closer to her.

  Shit, no – it wasn't just a random thing, and for the first time she realised that. She thought back to that moment, on the barge. Any time her mind had tried to resolve the matter the party line had been that it was an intense moment and that it was born of the fear and emotion, that it could have happened to anyone. But she'd tried to replace Robin's image in her head with any one of a hundred different people and in none of those scenarios did it end in a kiss. She couldn't imagine kissing anyone else. She didn't want to.

  "Shit…"

  I wanted to.

  Kim's head felt as though it was going to explode as she held it in her hands. It was too much to take in. As she closed her eyes the image of Robin laying beside he on the boat played through her mind again.

  "Shit."

  She swallowed and sat up, trying hard to shake away the thoughts that were going round in her head. She looked at the clock – it was so late now. Why the bloody hell hadn't he even called her? She grabbed her mobile phone from the table and began to type out a text to him, her heart still doing the quick-step over her thoughts of a kiss that should never have happened.

  "Hi Rob," she typed, "Thought u were going to call, hope u ok, sweet dreams x x x"

  She read the text back. Her tongue ran across her lips. She backspaced and deleted the kisses. Then she read it again and with a deep breath, selected 'discard'.

  'Discard message? Y/N'

  She sighed and selected yes. Closing her eyes, she held the phone tightly. What was the matter with her? She was going to pieces, and over what? Some kiss that happened because she thought she was going to die and the fact that her best friend hadn't called her. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm her nerves then tried again.

  "Hi Rob! How's the tat? Call me tomorrow!"

  Send.

  As the message worked its way out into the world she laid down her phone and closed her eyes, praying that sheer exhausting would take her into a deep sleep soon. She needed to get Robin out of her head and he didn't seem to be going of his own accord. If he didn't head off soon, she thought, she might have to chase him away with another scotch. Or two.

  Chapter Six

  Robin awoke feeling disorientated and hung-over. It wasn't a sensation he was used to. He groaned and held his head as he rolled over io bed and tried to fight the light that was streaming through a crack in the curtains.

  "Oh god," he groaned. Things from the night before had started coming back to him now. He remembered laying there in a horrible state of confusion, questioning everything that he'd ever thought he knew about himself… a rather pointless trawl through various porn channels that left him more certain than ever that he was gay... and then the event that seemed to completely bloody counteract all conclusions he'd just reached. "Oh god," his second utterance was full of horror and self-loathing. He rolled over and pulled a pillow over his head.

  He couldn't believe what he'd done. It had all happened in such a blur; one minute just trying to figure out where his head was and the next… the next his hand had ventured down below without his permission and the next thing he knew he was in a hell of a mess. In honesty it had been some time since he'd enjoyed any kind if release. In fact, he hadn't since… well, since he lost Simon. Seven bloody months. It hadn't seemed right and he wasn't exactly in the mood in the aftermath of Simon's death. And then it had been one thing after another –

  He breathed deeply as he tried to recall exactly what happened after the incident. There was a long, hot shower and then some drinking. That wasn't like him at all. There was some stupid, pathetic crying and some profuse apologies to his picture of Simon. Eventually he'd passed out at some point and the next thing he knew he was waking up with a head that felt like a woodpecker was trying to tap his way inside.

  He sat up and climbed out of bed, padding through to the kitchen. He checked in the cupboards and managed to find the hangover remedies he'd collected for Alex after her ill-advised junk food and wine binge. He took a few pills, downed some water and sloped off to the lounge where the porn channel was still playing on TV, albeit a slightly less raunchy version. Some woman with barely contained breasts was doing a phone impression and mouthing 'call me' at the screen before sliding her tongue around her lips. It turned his stomach and he quickly switched it over to something more acceptable. Unfortunately the thing that was more acceptable happened to be Cbeebies and he found Justin Fletcher signing random things at him. It was better than the porn so he left it on.

  His phone was flashing at him. He picked it up and checked his texts.

  "1 Msg: Kim"

  "Shit," he breathed as he opened the text.

  "Hi Rob! How's the tat? Call me tomorro
w!"

  "Oh no," he groaned, "I didn't call." Now he felt guilty for a whole new reason. He wished, not for the first time, that he could just get the whole thing out of his head and go back to a normal, uncomplicated, close friendship. He'd never met anyone like Kim before. Since he'd met her, she'd turned his life around.

  He sank onto the couch and began an awkward reply. He couldn't face the thought if calling her. She'd know something was wrong. Eventually he typed,

  "So sorry didn't call, got food poisoning. Duvet day! Gd luck tomorrow x"

  He paused, reread the message, deleted the kiss and sent it, hoping that she wouldn't call him back to see how he was doing. He felt awful about his lie but after his actions the night before he just couldn't face hearing her voice or seeing her. And yet, buried under that there was a part of him that was desperate to see her face, hear her laugh, see her eyes staring back at him.

  "Oh bloody hell," he mumbled as he felt something starting to stir at the thought of Kim. He felt his face burning up. This wasn't just mortifying but hideously embarrassing too. His concept of a duvet day might not be too far from the mark, he thought. Maybe that's what he needed.

  He felt a little stupid for doing it so deliberately but he gave himself one day to sort himself out. He gathered up his duvet, a mug of strong coffee, a batch of snacks and some prized items from his DVD collection, all the shows and films that contained his greatest crushes of all time. That would sort him out. It had to.

  Over the course of the day Robin spent the day reminding himself of how desperately he fancied David Duchovny during his X-Files obsession, his lust for Rimmer's surprising physique in the Terrorform episode of Red Dwarf and a selection of past celebrity fancies of years gone by. He threw into the mix a few music videos and even a couple of home movies of himself with Simon which was a bittersweet experience. He certainly didn't feel any the less strongly about his past crushes. He still saw all the same things in them that he found himself attracted to in his teens and his twenties, and there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that it was men's bodies and men's bodies alone that turned him on. That was a definite. There were no two ways about it.