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When I'm Old and Grey: DI Ted Darling Book III

Page 9

by L M Krier


  From time to time as they sang, his mother reached out and took hold of his hand, tears starting to her eyes. He was not yet comfortable at physical contact with the woman who had abandoned him as a child, whatever her reasons. But he knew there was no one else she could turn to and he did his best to be supportive, returning the contact with a light squeeze. He was rewarded by seeing a sad but grateful smile cross her face each time he did so.

  His mother had decided there was to be no sort of get-together after the brief service. She had promised the neighbours she would have them round for tea and cake one day, when she felt more up to it. Instead Ted took her home and spent a bit of time with her, making her a cup of tea and giving her some of the Welsh cakes which Trev had baked specially for the occasion.

  'She's a very good cook, your partner,' his mother said appreciatively. 'These are almost as good as Mam's.'

  It would have been the ideal moment to tell her, Ted knew, but somehow he couldn't find the right words. He was a good listener but he often had difficulty expressing himself in words.

  At Trev's suggestion, Ted had invited his mother for Sunday lunch the coming weekend. He promised to drive up to collect her, then take her home again afterwards. He knew he should tell her in advance that his partner was not a woman, but he somehow couldn't find the way to broach the subject with the mother he felt he hardly knew. As he left to go and collect her, he promised himself he would tell her on the way to lunch.

  'What does she like to eat?' Trev had asked him, always keen to serve the perfect choice for a guest.

  Ted shrugged. 'No idea,' he said. 'Her tastes may have changed since I knew her, and I was only a kid then, I don't really remember. She was always a good cook, but nothing fancy.'

  'My chicken and ham pie, then,' Trev said decisively. 'That's very traditional, always goes down well.'

  Trev's pastry was legendary for its lightness. It was a good choice.

  'You have told her about me by now, haven't you?' Trev asked him, anxiously.

  'I didn't find the right moment on the day of the funeral,' Ted said evasively. 'I'll tell her when I go to pick her up, promise.'

  'You'd better,' Trev said warningly. 'Seriously, Ted, you can't just bring her in and say, you know the woman you think I live with? Well, she's a bloke and here he is.'

  But somehow Ted still could not find the right words on the short drive with his mother. He decided he would just have to wing it. It had taken some time for him to convince his mother that she looked perfectly fine. She was clearly on edge, nervous about meeting her son's partner, and he didn't want to add to her anxiety.

  He was normally a perfect gentleman, who would have stood aside to let his mother go into the house first. In the circumstances, he thought it best to ask her to follow him through the hall and into the kitchen, where Trev was doing his last minute preparations for lunch.

  Ted went to him and put an arm around his waist. 'This is my partner, Trevor. Trev, this is my mother, Annie Jones.'

  Trev could see straight away by the baffled look on her face that Ted had not told her the truth about his relationship. In a low voice, he said reproachfully, 'Oh Ted, honestly, you promised.'

  Ted's mother was looking from one to the other of them, her expression still puzzled.

  'But …' she began, then looked directly at Ted and asked, 'Are you happy together?'

  'Blissfully,' Ted said, hugging Trev fiercely.

  'Mrs Jones, I love your son,' Trev said frankly. 'The fact that I've put up with him for eleven years should tell you just how much.'

  'Then that's the only thing that matters to me. That's all any mother should ever want for their children, for them to be happy. And you two obviously are, so there we are, then. Hello, Trevor, it's lovely to meet you. And please call me Annie.'

  She held out her arms to Trev, rightly judging that he would be more likely to give her the hug she craved and which Ted felt unable to give her yet.

  Ted saw the look of pain which passed briefly over Trev's face and knew he was thinking of how his own parents had treated him. His happiness had clearly not been important to them. Then Trev was folding Ted's mother in a big hug, and happy tears were rolling down her cheeks. Ted knew it was going to be all right.

  The meal was a great success. Trev could charm the birds out of the trees and Ted's mother was soon hanging on to his every word. When they had finished eating, Trev was sipping a small cognac, Ted his green tea and his mother her mug of builders' tea.

  'Can you think of anyone at all who might have wanted to hurt your mother?' Ted asked.

  'Ted,' Trev said warningly. 'You know the house rules. Work gets left at the front door. Stop being such a policeman at the dinner table.'

  'I need to ask, though, as her grandson, as much as a policeman.'

  'It's all right, Trev, I don't mind answering,' Annie said. 'In fact, I think it would help me to talk about it a bit, if you don't mind. I need to try to make sense of it. No, Teddy, I don't. Even when her mind went wandering, your gran was still a lovely person. It's not as if she was nasty or violent, like some of the others in the home are.'

  'And you can't think of anyone called Ange, or Angie, who might have visited her?'

  She shook her head. 'The name doesn't ring any bells at all. I've been racking my brains ever since I heard about her and I can't think of anyone Mam knew with that name. And why would the woman say she was her granddaughter, anyway?'

  'What about a Margaret, or Maggie, Tyler?'

  His mother looked blank and shook her head.

  'Or a Lilian Protheroe?'

  'Well, Protheroe is a Welsh name, so perhaps there's some connection there to Mam's background? But I don't think I know anyone of that name. Not that I can think of, anyway. Are they your suspects?' she asked.

  Ted shook his head. He didn't want to tell his mother at this stage that there were now two, possibly three other victims.

  'Just some names that have come up in the course of our enquiries so far,' he said. 'Shall we go and sit down in the other room?' he asked, looking at Trev.

  'I should warn you, Annie, that as soon as you sit down on the sofa, the cats will climb on top of you,' Trev told her. 'They have no manners at all. But Ted tells me you like cats too, so perhaps you won't mind?'

  Trev took her through to the sitting room, introduced her to the six cats and settled her onto the sofa, before sitting next to her. Ted took the armchair by the window and watched them, looking so happy together. He had never imagined that he would see his mother sitting there, talking to his partner. It was a shame it had taken the death of his grandmother to make it possible.

  As promised, Ted drove his mother back to her house. She was full of enthusiasm for Trev, clearly completely under his spell.

  'I'm so pleased you have someone so wonderful in your life, Teddy. I can see how much you love each other. Did your dad know?'

  'That I'm gay? Yes, I told him when I was ten. He just hugged me and told me he loved me. He died before I met Trev though, so he never got to meet him.'

  'He was a good man, Teddy. I hope you won't feel bad about him that he didn't tell you the truth about me,' she said.

  But Ted was struggling to deal with feelings of anger and resentment so strong they surprised him. He could understand why his father had kept the truth from him, but it had robbed him of his mother and grandmother throughout his formative years.

  When they reached her house, Ted walked her to the door and saw her safely inside.

  'I do hope I can see you again, 'she said. 'And Trevor. He's such a lovely young man, and you're clearly so happy together.'

  She stood looking at him, fragile hope etched in every line of her face.

  Ted leaned forward and gently pressed his cheek against hers, before he turned and left, quietly closing the door behind him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The following Monday was DC Vine's first day with the team. Except that she did not turn up at the same time as
the others. Even though Ted and Mike held back on starting the morning briefing, there was still no sign of her. Ted was not impressed.

  Finally, Mike kicked off the proceedings by allocating tasks for the day. After that, Ted was part-way through a résumé of where they were up to when the door finally opened and the new DC strolled in, seemingly uncaring at her late arrival.

  Ted was in his usual place, perched on an empty desk to one side of the room. Mike was in front of the white board, marker in hand, highlighting a point which Ted had made. The new team member wandered over to the DS and said, 'Morning, guv, I'm your new DC.'

  Mike frowned but did not correct her. Instead he said, 'Not the best start to your first day, DC Vine.'

  She shrugged, unconcerned. 'You know how it is, a new town, finding your way around.' She did not seem in the least bit interested in making a good impression.

  'Perhaps if you had taken time to find out a bit about your new station, you'd have been on time,' Mike told her. 'You'd also have known that I'm not your new boss. DI Darling is,' he said, nodding to where Ted was sitting, watching his new DC. 'I'm DS Hallam.'

  She shrugged again. 'Sorry, skip,' she said, her tone only just on the right side of insolence, then turned towards Ted. 'Morning, guv,' she said again, then without being asked, she sat herself down in the nearest empty chair.

  The piercings had all been removed. She wore a single sleeper in each ear and a small nose stud. The pink hair was now dyed a bright shade of yellow, the colour of sun-ripened maize. She was still unmistakable as the drunken young kickboxer who had tried to pick a fight with Ted in the street. To her credit, if she recognised him at all, she gave no sign of it. Perhaps she had been too drunk to notice what he looked like.

  Ted decided to say nothing at this stage, and certainly not in front of the rest of his team. It was clear, though, that he would need to have a few serious words with his newest recruit to establish some basic ground rules.

  'Mike, perhaps you'd kindly just give a little recap on what we have so far, for the benefit of DC Vine,' he said to the DS.

  Mike glared at her but did as the boss asked, outlining everything they knew so far. DC Vine sat listening, leaning back in her chair, arms folded across her chest. When he had finished, she announced to the room in general, 'It was the gardener wot done it,' with a note of scorn in her voice.

  Ted decided to humour her for now. 'Go on, DC Vine. If you have a theory, let's hear it. We need all the input we can get with this case.'

  She sat up a bit straighter. 'Have you looked into who does the gardening at the different homes?' she asked, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 'I doubt if, in these cash-strapped days, any of the homes employ their own gardener, so is there a contract gardening company doing the rounds? Quick mow of the lawn, bump off an old biddy, then on to the next one.'

  Mike was clearly about to pull her up on the lack of respect but Ted caught his eye and shook his head slightly. He didn't approve of her tone, but it was a valid suggestion, and one that they had not yet looked at. After all, a gardener would know better than most which commonplace plants were toxic.

  'It's an angle we haven't yet explored,' he conceded. 'Mike, can you put someone on to checking that out, please? It's certainly worth looking into. Any other suggestions, DC Vine?'

  She looked at him, clearly surprised. If she had been intending to provoke a reaction for some reason, Ted was not about to give her the satisfaction of delivering. The rest of the team were looking at her as if she were some strange alien who had landed amongst them. She merely shrugged in response.

  'Right, thanks everyone. You have your assigned tasks, time to get started,' Ted told them and stood up. 'DC Vine, can I please have a quick word in my office before you begin?'

  His existing team members grinned at one another. They all knew about the boss's little chats and wondered how this seemingly rebellious new member would fare.

  'Come in, have a seat,' Ted told her and sat down opposite her. For the moment, he was a bit at a loss as to how to begin. So far she had looked and acted more like a sulky teenager than the experienced detective her file had suggested she was.

  'So, Jessica,' he said by way of an opener.

  'Jezza,' she interrupted immediately. 'I prefer Jezza.'

  'Fair enough,' he said evenly. 'DS Hallam prefers sarge to skip and I prefer sir or boss to guv.'

  She did not react. Neither did she reply. She just stared at him, still looking sullen.

  'So,' Ted said again. 'Kickboxing, eh? I do a bit of martial arts myself.'

  'You were lucky,' she scoffed. 'I was pissed or I would've taken you out.'

  'Jezza, is this your normal behaviour when trying to make an impression with a new team, or is this you on a bad day?' Ted asked her.

  'What's this, I'm a woman you can't figure out so it must be PMT?' she asked angrily. She held eye contact with him and her eyes with glinting with anger. Ted noticed she had remarkable eyes, such a pale blue they were almost milky.

  He sighed. 'Jezza, I'm a gay police officer. In the CID. Before that, in firearms, an SFO,' he said. 'I am the last person to make any judgement about anyone on the basis of gender stereotyping, or anything else. I'm just trying to find out why you seem to be so angry. Did you not want to join this team?'

  She shrugged again.

  'Well, here's the thing. We're a good team, we work well together. It's all quite relaxed, but the reason it works is that we all respect one another,' he told her. 'You won't find any sexist, racist or any other 'ist remarks here. But the best way to get respect is to show it. So far this morning, you've demonstrated no sign of that.

  'I know you've been on enforced leave to consider your future. I wondered if you'd had time to do so and what you had decided?'

  Still the wall of silence. He could see that he was making not the slightest impression on her. She just continued to sit and scowl at him. He tried again.

  'From your file, I can see that you're an intelligent officer, capable of working on your own initiative. You have skills which will be invaluable to us, no doubt. But you need to lose the attitude. Seriously, you do. I know you've been told that so many times but I'm telling you again.'

  She did not quite say 'Whatever' but her body language as good as did.

  'If you have any problems at all, you can always come and talk to me. I'd like us to be able to work together, but you're going to need to meet us halfway if it's going to work.'

  He could see he was still making no headway so he said, 'Right, for now, please go and find DS Hallam and see what he wants you to start on. And please try to remember not to call him skip.'

  Without a word, she got up and headed for the door. Ted almost asked her not to slam it, hoping she wouldn't. But she did. Loudly.

  He sighed and turned his attention to his paperwork mountain. He hoped to make some inroads into it before the day got away from him.

  It was not long before there was a brief knock on his door and Mike Hallam came in, without waiting to be asked. Seeing his face, Ted went to put his kettle on, nodding to the DS to sit down.

  'Can I kill her, boss? If I do all the necessary paperwork first? Please?' Mike asked plaintively.

  Ted smiled sympathetically. 'Be careful how you try, Mike, she's a kickboxer,' he said, and told him about his first encounter with the new DC.

  'Bloody hell, boss,' Mike said. 'What have we done to deserve her? She keeps calling me 'skip'. It's like an old episode of The Sweeney.'

  'Does it occur to you that she just does it to get a rise out of us?' Ted asked. 'Perhaps if we simply ignore it and give her time to find her feet a bit, she will get better. You know how the theory goes, as a parent. Ignore the undesirable behaviour, reward the good. On paper, she has the makings of a really good officer. We just need to find out how to handle her.'

  'She's like a stroppy teenager,' Mike said. 'I just hope my two aren't going to go through a phase like that. Not sure how I'd cope.'
r />   'Just don't team her up with Maurice too soon,' Ted warned. 'You know how tactless he can be, despite being such a decent bloke, deep down. He's likely to say the wrong thing, not through any malice, but she might just punch his lights out.'

  'Is she really what we need right now, with a difficult case on our hands, boss?' Mike asked as Ted handed him a coffee and sat back down with his own green tea.

  'She could be exactly what we need now,' Ted replied. 'You know I'm not at all sexist, I hope, although she's already accused me of that. But if we need to put someone in undercover in one of the care homes, can you think of anyone better suited? Can you see Maurice, or Virgil, or any of the others passing for a care worker? Steve might, at a pinch, but he'd be too shy to say anything to anyone.

  'She could be ideal, if we can only find the way to manage her. Her file says she can do accents, change her appearance, blend in anywhere. She wouldn't raise any suspicions posing as a care worker, if she would agree to it.'

  'Apart from scaring the living daylights out of the poor old folks,' Mike grumbled. He drank some of his coffee. 'Fair enough, boss, I'll persevere a bit longer.'

  'She was right about the gardening angle too, Mike,' Ted reminded him. 'It's something we should have looked at. Have we even checked to see if there are any of the plants used in the killings growing in any of the homes' gardens? Monkshood and foxglove. They sound innocent enough, don't they?'

  Mike Hallam sighed. 'Don't you just hate it when someone like that is right?' he asked. 'No, we haven't done so yet and yes, we should have, of course. I'll get Steve to print us off some pictures of the plants and we'll check that angle out.'

  'Get Jezza to check it out,' Ted corrected him. 'That's what she tells me she likes to be called, skip,' he added with a chuckle. 'If it's any consolation, she's obviously intent on calling me 'guv' when clearly none of the rest of the team do and I hate it.

 

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