by Neal Davies
“Yes Seb, it seems you will!” She storms out of the room in a huff. Sebastian stands there, emotionally inert by her outburst.
When he is totally consumed by his thoughts, as he is at this moment he is also oblivious to the feelings of others. Sebastian has no idea that Cynthia is upset by his lack of enthusiasm for their evening together and spends the rest of the morning and afternoon writing notes and planning out the coming days. He is always pedantic regarding the tasks he is about to participate in, no matter how menial. His eccentricity can sometimes slow him down but that’s when Cynthia normally takes over. Although she becomes annoyed and frustrated by his antics or lack of, she enjoys being his advisor, best friend, lover and the connection between them can be compared to a light bulb and a lamp; one is rendered useless without the other. Cynthia ensures he stays on track and he returns the favour by keeping her adrenalin flowing. Whenever she is annoyed or angry with him she also feels alive, needed and useful.
The evening comes and Sebastian is feeling perplexed after trying diligently to do his belt up with no success. The day had been a busy one, so he has not had the opportunity to consider the reality of having to dress up again as he did the previous night. He sits on the bed, puffing, and then puts his hands behind his head in frustration, “My goodness woman! Couldn’t this have waited for a few more days! All I seem to be doing is dressing up and feeding my face! Surely we can take a break tonight.” Cynthia is in the adjoining bathroom putting her makeup on and these insensitive words reignite the anger she had been feeling earlier in the day. With a head scarf, foundation and robe on, she storms out looking like a Geisha girl and confronts him.
“Have you considered that this night might not be just about you?” Cynthia’s face reddens and her eyes pierce his like daggers. This leaves him surprised and temporarily speechless. She continues her rage, “Have you thought for one tiny second that married couples sometimes, just sometimes, enjoy each other’s company over dinner? Well, have you?” The shock of Cynthia’s initial attack had caught him off guard but the effect was now wearing off and the frustration over his belt that had engulfed his emotions earlier has now returned.
His thoughts of a romantic dinner are the last thing on Sebastian’s mind and he answers accordingly, “We went out last night, and it’s a well known fact that if you overdo things, it’s not long before the novelty wears off!” Cynthia had enough and decides to shake things up a bit. She takes a shot across his bow.
“Are you saying because we’ve been married all these years, there’s a possibility our lives have become dull and boring?” There is no doubt that Sebastian is a brilliant communicator when it comes to others. But she has a way of helping him understand his complacency when it comes to her. His mind goes numb again and he becomes totally flustered by her comments.
“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m talking about too many dinners together.”
She puts her hands on her hips, tilts her head to one side and says, “Then maybe it would be better if we didn’t eat together at all!” He sits there with his mouth wide open and finally works out that this debate is not going well for him and it would be better if he just stopped talking. Still with his hands on his head, he closes his eyes and tightens his lips. Cynthia takes a deep breath as she can see she has pushed him a little too far. She switches the conversation back to the original subject, “Now, do you want to tell me what the problem is or can I go back in and get ready?” He takes his hands off his head and stands up to show her.
He grabs both ends of his belt and tries to make them meet, “this is the bloody problem!” Sebastian begins tugging again, only this time he pulls so hard, he almost loses his footing. “Damn it woman! This is impossible! I’ve put on that much weight the bloody belt won’t do up!”
She slowly crosses her arms and inquires, “Why did you get it out?”
His eyebrows almost meet as he squints and replies, “Why did I get what out?”
She unfolds her arms, opens the palms of her hands to him and sighs, “First thing, calm down. Now why did you get the belt out?” His face turns bright red as he becomes even more frustrated by what he sees as a ridiculous question,
“To keep my bloody pants from falling down, you’re an intelligent woman. I thought you would have more common sense than to ask a silly bloody question like that!”
Now she was getting frustrated with his entire attitude, “Seb! Stop swearing at me and if anyone should consider the meaning of common sense, it should be you! Just do me a favour will you? Take a look in your top drawer!” Before he can get there she pushes in front of him, grabs the buckle of his belt and pulls on it until she has the entirety of it in her hand. Sebastian, holding his pants up with one hand, opens the drawer with the other and can only see socks and underwear.
“What the hell am I looking for?”
She casually leans over and lifts his underwear, “These are what you’re looking for!” Cynthia raises her hand and holds up a pair of suspenders while looking at him in dismay.
He tilts his head in her direction while turning up the corner of his mouth and says sheepishly, “Well, how am I to know where the suspenders are kept?” She begins jiggling them in contempt.
“The simple answer to that question is, you put the bloody things there yourself! It’s only been a couple of days since you informed me your belt was getting to small. Then, you said you would like to try suspenders. I bought you two pairs. You wore one pair last night with your tux and you put the other pair, these things that I’m holding in my hand, in your sock drawer.” Cynthia goes to the wardrobe and pulls out the pants he had worn to the presentation dinner. She shows him the other pair of suspenders that are still attached to them. Cynthia has nudged his memory as usual and he is feeling more than a little embarrassed.
Sebastian was taught as a child, by his father, that the best form of defence is attack. This strategy may be fine in times of war but it is never a good idea when his wife knows him better than he knows himself. Foolishly he follows through with what he has been taught, “well this would not have happened if you could have been a little more patient and waited a few days to go out to dinner!” Cynthia drops her shoulders and breathes heavily. He knows what he has done but it is way too late to retract what he now sees as a stupid statement. He tenses up and prepares to accept the wrath of a woman scorned.
“Now you listen here Sebastian Cork! I go out of my way to please you! It’s not my fault that you can’t find your suspenders where you left them! Get those bloody suspenders on and hurry up or we’ll be going out to dinner every night for the next three weeks, whether you bloody well like it or not!” There were no more arguments for the rest of the evening and Cynthia had a wonderful time.
Chapter 5
FIRST DAY ON THE JOB
Sebastian is up early the following morning and Cynthia, still half asleep, rolls over between the silk sheets and slams one of the many pillows over her head when she hears singing coming from the shower in the adjoining bathroom. It Is not long before Sebastian emerges wrapped in a towel. “Good morning my love, did you sleep well?” Cynthia takes the pillow from her ear, slowly rolls over and gently drags her cupped hands down her face.
“Yes, yes, I did. Right up until I heard someone being throttled in our bathroom. Now that you are a consultant for the police, perhaps you would like to investigate that for me, while I get a little more sleep.”
He is amused by her remark and lets out a belly chuckle, “That’s what I like to hear, a good sense of humour first thing in the morning.” He unwraps himself and throws the damp towel on the bed, “Anyway, I haven’t a lot of time to chat, really must get a move on, places to be, people to see. Can I get you some breakfast before I leave?” It has been a long time since he has offered to make breakfast and she can see he has been rejuvenated by this twist of fate. Although she has concerns for his safety, she is also excited about this joint venture they are about to undertake.
“That’s my girl!” he replies as he starts to head out the door.
“Seb!” she calls out.
His head rotates quickly and his face holds a slightly embarrassed smile, “Of course, get dressed. What was I thinking?” He turns on his heels and heads back in. Cynthia pulls back the sheets and artfully spins her slender body around, placing her feet firmly on the shagpile carpet below. She snatches his wet towel from the bed and pushes it into his chest as he passes, “Seb do me a favour please and hang this up. It’s still wet!” Even though he is a little annoyed about being held up by a mere towel, nothing is going to deter him from his positive and purposeful frame of mind.
“Yes, yes straight away.” He takes the towel back into the bathroom, re-emerges and begins to get dressed.
Sebastian’s eccentricity is in full swing this morning. It is often this way when he is focusing on something of enormous importance to him. Menial normalities of basic day to day tasks are simply swept away in the multitude of thoughts that flow through his brain simultaneously.
Once dressed, he works his way downstairs, percolates a coffee and butters a piece of toast. By this time Cynthia has showered, dressed and is waiting at the base of the stairs to see him off. He comes out of the kitchen and into the foyer still nibbling on a piece of toast and she helps him with his jacket, “You be careful today, Seb.” she says, while reaching around the back of his neck to straighten his collar. He is enjoying the pampering she is giving him and feels the need to stand quite still while Cynthia prepares him for the day ahead. She half smiles at him like a mother seeing her child off for the first day of school, and then kisses him goodbye.
He looks at her with admiration and promises “It will be ok. And I will ring in frequently to let you know how things are going.”
Sebastian opens the front door and is about to leave when he hears, “Seb Your walking stick!” He stands there facing the open doorway, not wanting to turn around as he thought she had forgotten all about the cane, and screws up the corner of his mouth in frustration. Sebastian is about to put up some resistance but as usual Cynthia is one step ahead of him and reminds him, “a deal is a deal, Seb! You wouldn’t go back on a deal would you?” She goes to the hat stand, plucks up the cane and thrusts it forward all in one motion. Cynthia stands there on the ready for Sebastian’s excuse and explanation to why he should not have to take it from her. But what can he say? He turns around and immediately answers coyly, “No dear, you know how absent minded I can be at times.” He takes the walking stick, kisses her goodbye again and leaves for the police station. As the door closes Cynthia places her back to it and rightly thinks to herself, “I often wonder how far his absent mindedness and eccentricity goes?”
She pushes off the door with both hands and heads toward the kitchen to make herself some breakfast, but before she gets there she hears her mobile phone ringing upstairs in the bedroom where she had left it. Cynthia scurries up the steps but it is too late by the time she arrives, the phone has already rung out. She has never been fussed about missed calls but due to the recent turn of events she feels the need to check who rang. As she reaches to pick it up it begins to ring again. “Hello.” He had only been gone a short while but as usual there was something he had forgotten to do, “Hi sweetheart, it’s me, Seb. Can you do me a small favour please?”
“What is it?”
“Could you give Ben Coates a call and ask him what occurred leading up to discovering Frank? Cynthia rolls her eyes upward while swaying her head from side to side in frustration.
“Who’s Ben Coates?”
“Sorry darling, he’s the private investigator that was working for Tony and found Frank dead in his apartment. Before I forget, I scribbled his number down and left it on the kitchen table.”
Cynthia is feeling more than a little annoyed when she asks, “Why didn’t you ask me before you left?”
As usual his reply is simple and to the point, “Sorry, forgot. Got to go now, can’t drive and talk on the phone you know. I could have a serious accident. Love you! Bye.” The line goes dead. Cynthia thinks to herself something serious could happen to him, but it wouldn’t be an accident. Yet in reality and after all their years of being together she has grown accustomed to his antics and often uses her uncanny wit and mixes it with a little satire to release any pent up tension. She looks at the phone knowing he is no longer there but still says sarcastically, “Bye, love you too!” She frowns and heads back downstairs to fix herself some breakfast.
On arrival at the station, Sebastian’s thinking process has helped him dissociate from his apprehensions of his first day on the job. His mind is filled with what he has to do, where he needs to go and who he has to see. In fact, his head is so filled with thoughts he strolls straight past reception and is quickly called back by a middle aged, burly policeman in uniform, who taps him on the shoulder. “Excuse me sir, I need to see a pass.” It is understandable that he has been pulled aside in a police station.
The empty glare he exudes when concentrating emits many possibilities of what he may or may not be up to and to enhance the duty clerk’s irritation he sarcastically replies, “I’m sorry, I don’t have a pass but I do have an appointment to see Mr Johnston, the Chief of Police.” The burly policeman, unmoved by his name dropping and sarcasm, asks Sebastian to accompany him back to his reception desk where he gets behind the counter and pulls out a large log book.
“Now, could I have your name please sir?” Sebastian, finding this whole procedure a waste of his time and extremely tedious looks skyward in contempt.
“Sebastian Cork. Capital S, e, b”
The policeman, now sitting, becomes annoyed by his disrespectful manner and peers upward at him, “I can spell sir! If you will just wait a moment and I will contact Chief Johnston!” The policeman reaches over, snatches up his desk phone and makes a quick call to Jim’s office. He is given a pass and told which direction he needs to head in by a very irate officer who Sebastian hears mumbling to himself as he is walking away. It suddenly dawns on Sebastian that all the years of working one on one in a confined room has stifled his free flowing personality and if he wants to get the best results from his new position he needs to reflect back to the communicator he was and not the one he is now. The more he thinks about it the more annoyed he becomes with himself. He realises the policeman was only doing his job and decides to go back to the desk and apologise for his rudeness. With that out of the way he nonchalantly continues on as if nothing has happened. The way he gets over issues so quickly can often be seen as arrogance and snobbery but in reality he cares deeply for others, it’s just that he is distracted by a constant flow of thoughts that know no rest.
Cynthia has already been on the phone to Jim as has the commissioner. Jim’s secretary Emily has been asked to keep an eye out for a tall, well dressed man, with greying black hair. She has also received a call from the desk clerk asking if Jim was expecting Sebastian. She decides to wait outside her office door, knowing he will soon be there. As Emily steps outside her office she catches sight of him almost immediately as he works his way past the hub of activity towards her. She smiles as he approaches, “Hi, you must be Mr Cork. My name’s Emily and I am Jim’s secretary.” He smiles back at her and then shakes her hand.
“Sebastian, you can call me Sebastian. It’s very nice to meet you, Emily.” She is a tall, slender, polite young woman with a very businesslike attitude and after the brief welcome she quickly and courteously escorts him into the Chief of Police’s office. As he enters Jim, a tall, slightly balding, lean man rises to his feet and walks around his desk toward him with his hand extended. “Good morning Sebastian! How long since I last saw you? It must be ten,
possibly twelve years ago? He looks down at Sebastian’s leg curiously and with some concern. “What have you done to yourself? You never had a cane before!”
Sebastian shakes his hand and then Jim, thinking that Sebastian is lame, gestures that a chair in front of his desk awaits him, “Sorry. Here, take a seat.” He walks back around to the other side, to take a seat himself. Sebastian sits down and rests both his hands on the top of the cane that stands between his legs. “Good morning Jim. Yes it has been awhile. It was the 23rd of December eleven years ago at the Christmas break. That was exactly a year to the day prior Cynthia leaving her position as a prosecutor for the justice department. It’s really good to see you! As for this cane it’s a long story, but really it’s nothing and the leg is fine.”
Jim grabs some papers and a pen from his drawer and slides them gently across his big oak desk. “Can I get Emily to get you a coffee Sebastian?”
“No thanks, I’m good. I was up early and had one before I left. Maybe I will have one a little later.” Jim sits back in his leather swivel chair and looks down at the papers on the desk.
“These papers need to be signed before we can do anything and once they are, you will be officially working for the department. They’ve been here waiting for you since Cynthia made the initial call. The commissioner has already signed them so we could get this happening ASAP.” Of course, I really don’t need to explain the meaning of confidentiality to you, do I?”
Sebastian begins reading through the documents and without lifting his head he replies, “No. I think I know all I need to know about that.” As soon as he finishes the paper work he pushes it back over to Jim. “Well what now?” Jim breathes deeply and stares at him as if he wants to ask a question but isn’t quite sure where to begin so he looks down at the pen Sebastian had returned and starts rolling it back and forth with his finger. “Go ahead Jim, ask away. I don’t bite you know.”
