Outside Looking In

by Michael Wood

  ‘That’s understandable. How about you? You sound knackered.’

  ‘I am. Hospitals are so tiring. And why do they have to be so bloody hot?’

  ‘Look, go home, have a long shower and something to eat and get a good night’s sleep. You can be late tomorrow too if you want a lie in.’

  ‘Thanks boss.’

  ‘You’ve done well today, Scott. Thank you.’

  Matilda hung up the phone before Scott could say anything else. He pocketed the phone and dragged his feet along the scuffed flooring. The automatic doors yawned open noisily and a blast of cold air hit him full in the face. It woke him up instantly. He took a long deep breath and felt his entire body relax.

  His battered Renault wasn’t far from the entrance. He shouldn’t really be driving, his eyelids were heavy with fatigue, but he didn’t have the number for a taxi and the buses had stopped running for the night. All he wanted was to get home, kick off his shoes, and fall onto his bed. He didn’t even care about changing out of his suit, and he only had two.

  He pulled out of the car park and headed for home on the opposite side of the city. He opened the windows to allow in the stiff cool breeze, and kept well below the speed limit.

  The traffic was steady but not busy, however, concentration was still called for. He headed up Barnsley Road, his hands firmly gripped in the ten and two position, his eyes on the road.

  He was overtaken by cars, taxis, and vans, and was branded a wanker by a boy racer in a Subaru. He concentrated hard on the road and didn’t notice the car on his tail. He looked in the rear-view mirror but all he could see were the bright lights from the car’s headlights. Some people had no manners.

  The car started to overtake, sounding its horn at the same time. The car took a sharp turn left, banged into Scott’s Renault and forced him off the road into a ditch. Scott slammed down on the brakes but his tiredness had an effect on his reflexes. He hit his head on the steering wheel and heard something crack, he hoped it wasn’t his skull.

  Before he lost consciousness he looked up and saw a dark-coloured BMW heading off at speed over the hill.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Up early as usual, Matilda was tempted to call her mother for a chat. It had been a long time since she had called home and she really should make the effort. Last night when she had returned home there were four messages waiting for her on the answer machine, all of them from her family.

  You have four new messages. Message one: ‘Matilda, it’s your mother. I haven’t heard from you for a few days and you said you’d keep in touch. Do you still want me and your dad to come with you to the cemetery? I don’t like these machines. Ring me when you can.’

  Message two: ‘Matilda, it’s me again, your mother. I left a message for you this morning but you still haven’t called. I’ve heard on the news about this double shooting business so I’m guessing you’re busy with that but surely you’re going home at some point. Just ring me. Please.’

  Message three: ‘Matilda, I’m not sure if you remember me, my name’s Harriet; I’m your sister. I’ve had Mum on the phone night and day asking if I’ve heard from you, now stop being selfish and give her a call. I’ve enough on my plate as it is without Mum badgering me too. By the way, your youngest nephew has chickenpox; just thought you’d like to know in case you fancy playing at being an auntie from time to time.’

  Message four: ‘Matilda, it’s your father. Will you call your bloody mother right now? She’s getting on my sodding nerves.’

  She was just about to pick up the receiver and dial the familiar number when her mobile burst into life. The display said ACC. It was a no-brainer. She couldn’t ignore her boss.

  ‘Matilda, bit of a problem,’ no cheery greeting, no hello. This did not bode well. ‘There was an incident late last night. DC Scott Andrews is in hospital.’

  Matilda’s heart hit the floor and her eyes darted straight to the photograph of her husband on the mantelpiece. ‘What? What happened?’

  ‘He was run off the road, probably a joy rider. He’s in the Northern.’

  ‘Right. I’ll get over there now. Thanks for letting me know.’

  She hung up the phone without waiting to hear if her boss had anything else to add. This was not the start to the day Matilda was hoping for. She picked up her keys from the coffee table, blew a kiss to James and headed for the front door. There was no time now to call her mother. It would have to wait. Before leaving the house she looked at her reflection in the mirror. She looked tired. She always seemed to look tired lately. She could sleep for a week and still look physically drained. She neatened her hair as best she could and left the house.

  ‘Hello. Can I come in?’

  Matilda peered around the door to the room Scott was recuperating in. He was out of bed and looking around for his clothes. Sitting on a chair in the corner of the room was a petite woman with a worried look on her face. She guessed she was his mother.

  ‘Hello Boss. Yes, come in.’

  ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Nothing. Some shit in a BMW ran me off the road.’

  A BMW?

  ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘No. I banged my head a bit. They just wanted to keep me in overnight for observation.’

  There was a purple lump just above his left eye and his left wrist was bandaged. Apart from that he seemed physically fine.

  ‘Have you been discharged?’ Matilda asked.

  ‘No he hasn’t,’ the stern-looking woman in the corner of the room said.

  ‘Boss, this is my mum, Gillian. Mum, this is my boss, DCI Darke.’

  ‘Nice to meet you,’ Matilda said.

  ‘Likewise. Scott has mentioned you many times.’

  ‘Anything I should be worried about?’ Matilda asked with a nervous smile.

  ‘No,’ the first hint of a smile appeared on Gillian Andrews’ face. ‘He speaks very highly of you. Now, would you tell him that he needs to stay in hospital at least until the doctors have been round?’

  ‘Haven’t you been seen this morning?’

  ‘Not yet he hasn’t.’

  ‘I am still here you know,’ Scott said, sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘Look, I’m fine. It was just a bump on the head.’

  ‘You have to be careful with bangs to the head,’ Gillian said. ‘Remember what happened to your Uncle Richard? He had a bang on the head, said he was fine. A week later he was dead.’

  ‘Mum, Uncle Richard fell off a sixth floor balcony. It’s hardly the same thing.’ He looked at Matilda and rolled his eyes.

  ‘I don’t care. You’re not leaving this hospital until you’ve seen the doctor.’

  ‘I agree with your mum here, Scott. They’ll be round in a bit anyway and they’ll probably discharge you. Just give it another hour.’

  ‘Exactly. I’ve got the car from your dad. When you’re released I’ll take you straight back home and make you a bacon sandwich. I’ve got your dad flipping your mattress so you’ll be nice and comfy.’

  Matilda looked from mother to son and saw Scott’s face redden. He looked to the floor.

  ‘Mum, would you go and get me a drink from the vending machine?’

  ‘OK. I’ll get you something fizzy. You need to keep your sugars up. Would you like anything?’ Gillian asked Matilda as she rummaged in her bag for her purse.

  ‘No. Thank you.’

  ‘I won’t be long. Make sure he doesn’t leave.’

  They waited until Gillian had left before either of them dared speak.

  ‘Your mum seems nice.’

  ‘She is.’

  ‘She’s sweet and obviously cares about you.’

  ‘You won’t tell anyone will you?’ His frown looked as if it was causing him some pain.

  ‘Tell anyone what?’

  ‘That I still live at home.’

  ‘Scott,’ Matilda began, sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘There’s nothing wrong with still l
iving at home. Besides, you’re only twenty-six, there’s plenty of time to move out. With the state of the house prices, you’re not the only twenty-six-year-old still living with their parents.’

  ‘I’ve told Rory and the others I live on my own.’

  ‘I know you have. You shouldn’t have done. There’s nothing wrong with living at home,’ she repeated.

  ‘Rory’s had his own place for four years.’

  ‘No. Rory moved in with Amelia four years ago. Her father bought her that house for her twenty-first birthday. He’d still be living at home if he hadn’t met her. There’s no way he could afford his own place, especially with the amount of money he spends on fragrances.’ She smiled.

  ‘I am saving up. It’s not easy though.’

  ‘I know it isn’t. Look, I won’t tell anyone. You know I don’t go in for office gossip, but tell them yourself. Say you’ve moved back home because the rent kept increasing. Blame the government. Blame the police for not giving you a wage increase. If you keep secrets from your colleagues it will create a barrier and we all need to get on well together to be able to do the job we do.’

  ‘Thanks, boss.’

  ‘You’re welcome. Now, seeing as you’re on the mend I think I’ll pop up to ICU and see how Joseph Glass is doing. There are more coppers in the hospital than there are at the station this morning. Say goodbye to your mum for me won’t you?’

  Scott nodded and smiled. He looked years younger in his hospital gown and his bed hair. Scott was a bit of an enigma. Rory and Sian always told the rest of the team what was going on in their lives. Aaron did too, though it often had to be dragged out of him. Scott was always on the outside, looking on but never participating. He needed bringing out of his shell and living at home with his parents wasn’t helping.

  As she climbed the stairs, rather than waiting for the lift, she thought of what Scott had said to her. He was run off the road by a BMW. She knew there was more than one BMW in the world, but surely it was too much of a coincidence. Now that the lives of her officers were being threatened, she felt duty bound to report her stalker to the ACC.

  DC Joseph Glass’s condition wasn’t anywhere near as comfortable as his colleague’s two floors down. He was still unconscious and hooked up to a plethora of machines. Keeping a bedside vigil were his parents; their faces ashen, their movements limited, their eyes firmly set on their comatose son.

  Matilda knocked on the door and opened it slowly. ‘Hello, I’m Joseph’s boss. Am I all right to come in?’

  ‘Oh, sure, of course. Please, come on in. I’m Sandra. This is Grahame.’

  Both parents stood up to greet Matilda. Sandra was short and round. Her naturally curly hair was blonde streaked with grey and an unruly mess. Grahame was a carbon copy of his son: tall and lanky with similar hair and the same angled nose.

  ‘I thought Joe’s boss was a man,’ Sandra snorted.

  ‘He is but Joe was seconded to me on the case we’re working on.’

  ‘Oh right, I see. Well it’s nice of you to come.’

  ‘How’s he doing?’

  ‘We don’t really know,’ she slumped back down into the toughened plastic seat similar to the ones they had back at the station in the interview rooms. ‘They’ve done a few scans and say there doesn’t seem to be any permanent damage but he won’t wake up.’

  ‘They’re going to do some motor tests on him later today,’ Grahame chimed up. ‘Apparently it could all be linked if his reflexes aren’t working properly. It’s all to do with the brain and what messages it’s sending out.’

  Matilda was reminded of what Dr Warminster had said about Lois Craven playing dead. It wasn’t necessarily her decision to play dead but her mind was blocking out what had happened to her. Was this the same with Joseph? Was he not waking up because his brain didn’t want him to know what was happening to him?

  ‘Is there anything either of you need?’ Matilda asked, not knowing what to say. She had hoped he would have been sitting up in bed laughing and joking. She could have handled that.

  ‘No I don’t think so,’ Sandra said looking at her husband for confirmation. ‘Everyone is being so helpful. I keep sending Grahame out for something to eat, with his diabetes, but we’re fine.’

  Matilda dug around in her pocket and produced a dog-eared card. ‘My number is on here. If there’s anything you need don’t hesitate to give me a call.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you, thank you.’

  ‘And if there’s any change in his condition—’

  ‘We’ll let you know, definitely,’ Sandra interrupted.

  Matilda said her goodbyes and left the room.

  Matilda’s final stop in the Northern General was Lois Craven. Her interview yesterday was candid and Matilda had been surprised to see her revealing so much in front of her husband. However, she felt she was holding plenty back. There would be more she would divulge when she was alone. Fingers crossed.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Matilda asked.

  Lois was lying on her side, back to the door, and didn’t notice Matilda enter. She turned around slowly to look at her visitor.

  ‘I’m surprised it took you this long to come back.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  The pain of moving in the bed to sit up and be comfortable was etched on Lois’s face as she slowly adjusted herself. ‘I knew you’d be back. You’ll want to know about all the men I’ve had affairs with but didn’t want to ask me in front of Martin.’

  ‘That would be helpful.’

  ‘First of all, I want you to know that Martin is a wonderful man. He’s a saint for what he’s put up with over the years from me. I’m a terrible wife and he deserves so much better.’

  ‘Why are you a terrible wife?’

  ‘I’m not good with routine. I get bored very easily. When Martin and I first met we were fun, always going out, spontaneous weekends away. Then the children came along. Don’t get me wrong, I love them to pieces, I really do, but they certainly cramp your style. Do you have kids?’

  ‘No I don’t.’

  ‘I don’t know whether to say you’re lucky or not. I wouldn’t be without them at all. I love them. I genuinely love them, but I’m not a natural wife and I’m not a natural mother.’ She leaned back in her bed against the mound of pillows. She closed her eyes and squeezed out a tear. ‘I hate myself for that,’ she added.

  ‘I remember when I was a child,’ she continued. ‘All the others girls were playing with dolls and pretending to be mums and pushing prams around and I couldn’t think of anything more boring. I wanted to play with Lego and play football in the park. When I was older and all my friends were getting married and having kids I wasn’t jealous that it wasn’t me. If it happened, it happened.’

  ‘So what changed when you met Martin?’

  ‘I fell in love. I truly loved Martin.’

  ‘Past tense.’

  Lois rolled her head to one side and looked at Matilda out of her one good eye. ‘Yes. Past tense.’ It seemed to cause her pain to say that.

  ‘Why don’t you love him anymore?’

  ‘Because he took me back after the affair I had when I became pregnant with Thomas.’

  ‘But you wanted to go back didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes I did. For completely selfish reasons. I wanted stability. I wanted a father for my child. You know, I would have respected him if he’d told me to piss off and thrown me out on the street but he didn’t. He took me back. It showed how weak he was. He wanted an idyllic family unit and he was willing to sacrifice his own self-respect to have that.’

  ‘So why have you stayed with him all these years?’

  ‘I want my children to grow up in a stable environment. There’s nothing wrong with that is there?’

  ‘No. Nothing at all. Tell me about Kevin Hardaker.’

  Lois’s eyes lit up. She smiled. ‘Kevin was the anti-Martin. He was fun, exciting, romantic. He touched me too.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’ Matilda frowned.<
br />
  ‘Despite Martin and me sharing a bed he refused to touch me since Thomas was born. He was repelled by me but not enough to divorce me. Again, he showed his weakness. Kevin loved me. He wanted to be with me.’

  ‘You were planning to leave Martin, weren’t you? We’ve had the texts from your phone printed out.’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied, looking down, showing a modicum of shame for the first time. ‘I didn’t think Kevin was serious at first. I never thought he’d leave Alice and his kids. Even when he said he was looking for flats I didn’t think he’d go through with it.’

  ‘Did you go and view any flats with him?’

  Lois laughed. ‘Yes, several. I thought of it as a game. We went around them as man and wife; it was fun.’

  ‘And then Kevin made an offer on one.’

  ‘Yes. That completely threw me. All of a sudden it was happening. I had no idea what I was going to do.’

  ‘Where was the flat – here in Sheffield?’

  ‘No. We saw some here, a couple in Dronfield, but the one he finally settled on was in Stockport.’

  ‘Stockport? That’s far. You wouldn’t have seen your children much.’

  ‘I know,’ she replied, looking down, sad.

  ‘You talk like this was all Kevin’s idea. You didn’t want to move in with him did you?’

  ‘I did. I really did. It was just escalating too quickly. I wanted to take things slower.’

  ‘Yet he went and put a deposit on a flat without you knowing.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Would you have left Martin and the kids behind?’

  ‘To be honest … I have absolutely no idea.’

  Matilda watched as a wave of varying emotions played out on her bruised and battered face. ‘Lois, who do you think could have carried out the attack on you and Kevin?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She shook her head and winced at the pain it caused her. ‘I’ve been lying here thinking about it all and I didn’t really know Kevin at all. I didn’t know if he had any brothers and sisters, if his parents were still alive, if he was allergic to anything. I didn’t even know if he had a middle name. We talked about moving in together but we knew absolutely sod all about each other.’