FF 07 Creature Discomforts

by Ted Tayler

  “Bert, I haven’t given it a thought,” said Gus, as they left the lane and walked through the gateway to the field of allotments. “Somewhere in my shed is a scribbled set of notes I made when you told me what I should do, and when. Unless I dig it out each year at the right time, it’s disastrous. I check what you’ve done during the week while I’m at work and try to match it. If you’re not here to chastise me for stinting on my hoeing and watering, this patch will soon fall into disrepair.”

  “Recent events only go to show that I can’t count on being around forever, Mr Freeman,” said Bert. He leaned on his stick and gazed towards the old church that had stood there for eight hundred years.

  “What time is it in Canada, Mr Freeman?” he asked.

  “Lunchtime,” said Gus. “Come and sit, Bert. We can talk, or you can just sit while I work.”

  “I think I’ll spend time in St Michael’s,” said Bert, “on my own, if you don’t mind. I’ll leave you to get on with your chores and wander home in plenty of time to save the Reverend standing on my doorstep like a lost soul. Thank you for passing the afternoon with me, it’s much appreciated.”

  “What are friends for?” said Gus.

  Bert Penman left him and soon disappeared inside the old church.

  Gus knew the pain of losing loved ones, but he had never felt the need to pray or seek solace from talking with someone such as Clemency Bentham. Whatever it took to get Bert Penman through to the other side of this tragedy, Gus hoped it worked.

  After a few minutes searching for those scribbled notes without success, Gus got on with his hoeing and watering. Time slipped past. When he next looked towards the church clock, it was already a quarter past seven. Bert had left for home over an hour ago. Clemency Bentham was with him now, and he was in safe hands.

  Gus put his tools away in the shed, locked up, and returned to the bungalow.

  Time to feed the inner man. While his evening meal cooked, he listened to the tortured tones of Janis Joplin.

  Gus glanced at his watch. Suzie Ferris would be here in the next half hour. He had time to take a shower and then change into his glad rags. He and Suzie were joining the Crime Review Team members at the Waggon & Horses for a celebratory drink.

  Gus was deciding which shirt to wear when he heard the key in the door. It was a sound he’d been used to when Tess was alive. Neither worked what people used to call regular hours. So, hearing a key in the door at odd times was a regular occurrence for both of them.

  Gus had grown accustomed to living alone in the last three years, but times had changed.

  “Are you decent?” called Suzie.

  “When it’s appropriate,” he replied as he walked through from the bedroom into the hallway.

  “Mmm,” said Suzie, “is that what you’re wearing?”

  “I thought it might be an option,” said Gus.

  “Think again,” said Suzie, “let’s get in the bedroom and see what else you have available.”

  “We don’t have time if we’re meeting the others at half-past nine.”

  “Easy, tiger. I need to put my things in your wardrobe, anyway.”

  Gus finally noticed the garment holder Suzie had on her shoulder, holding it casually with a thumb through the loop. Suzie swung it around and folded it over her arm.

  “Lead on,” she said.

  Five minutes later, Gus was resplendent in a crisp white shirt, and his clothes had squeezed further along the rail to make room for more items Suzie had transferred from home.

  “Have your parents noticed anything unusual in your behaviour of late?” Gus asked as he closed the front door behind them.

  “My parents like you, Gus, don’t forget,” said Suzie. “They’ll be sad to see me go when I do. We’ll take my car. As much as I enjoy recovering from a hangover on a Saturday morning ride, you deserve a drink after everything that’s happened this week.”

  Neatly done, thought Gus. Perhaps I’m still on probation.

  At least he could try to dismiss thoughts of what Bert Penman was suffering. It helped that they were celebrating ACC Dominic Culverhouse’s fall from a great height. Nobody would shed tears over that creep tonight.

  The scene that greeted them at The Waggon & Horses was a familiar one. Cars littered the grass verges on either side of the road because the car park was full. Suzie squeezed her VW Golf into a parking space his old Ford Focus would have refused to attempt. The others were inside the crowded bar.

  “A disco tonight in the Stable bar, guv,” said Neil Davis once he spotted his boss working his way through the crowd. “The band cried off at the last minute.”

  “We must be thankful for small mercies, Neil,” said Gus. He scanned the bar for signs of the others.

  “We’re in the corner of the bar beyond the restaurant, guv,” said Neil. “Give me your order, and I’ll bring them through. Amelia’s holding two seats in there for you.”

  “Oh, PC Cranston has joined us, has she?” said Gus, “I’ll have a pint of lager.”

  “A slimline tonic with ice and lemon for me, Neil, thanks,” said Suzie. “I’m a designated driver.”

  Neil must have bought the bar staff a drink earlier because both dashed to serve him. That never happened when Gus was waiting,

  “Melody wasn’t feeling up to it, guv,” said Neil when he returned with the drinks, “I bumped into Amelia in town when I was shopping, and she was at a loose end. I hope you don’t mind. She’s an honorary CRT member after working on my Dad’s case and DI Ferris’s kidnapping.”

  “How’s Alex?” asked Gus.

  “Quiet, guv,” said Neil, “but he looks more with it than he did when you sent him home.”

  “Small steps, Neil,” said Gus, “We mustn’t rush him. I know I can rely on you and Lydia to stop him backsliding.”

  “It will be good to get the A-Team back together, guv,” said Neil, “I don’t suppose you know what we’re in for next week? Any news from London Road about a new case?”

  “I didn’t ask, Neil,” said Gus. “I made sure the paperwork relating to the Malone case got to the ACC before he left for the weekend and hoped it would sustain his good mood until Monday. Geoff Mercer was like a dog with two tails. Nailing Culverhouse was the icing on the cake after clearing another cold case.”

  Neil led the way, and they were soon in the relative quiet of the corner of the bar.

  “Evening, guv,” came a chorus of voices. Gus saw Lydia Logan Barre sitting with Alex Hardy.

  Lydia looked stunning. Alex looked nervous.

  “Suzie,” called Amelia Cranston, “you two can sit here, by Neil and me.”

  Suzie glanced towards Gus. He shrugged what he hoped amounted to a ‘whatever’ response.

  “I feel the odd one out,” said the young man sat with Luke Sherman, “I’m not a policeman.”

  “Hello,” said Gus, “you must be Nicky. It’s good to meet you. Don’t worry. I’ve told this lot before to dispense with formalities on social occasions, but they find it hard to change the habits of a lifetime. It’s Gus for everyone tonight.”

  “How was your afternoon, guv, Gus?” asked Luke.

  “Bert Penman and I drank rough cider and discussed everything under the sun to stop him thinking of his family.”

  “Did it work?” asked Lydia.

  “I thought it had until we reached the allotments. Bert went inside the church for a while. That place holds a host of memories for him. I can’t remember where he told me he and Cora got married, but they spent all their married life in Urchfont. No doubt his children went there for their christening, Sunday School, and confirmation classes.”

  “What a dreadful thing to have happened,” said Nicky, “Luke told me last night.”

  “I suggest we take a moment to reflect on how fragile life can be,” said Gus.

  He sat beside Suzie, and there was a brief lull in the conversation. Even the chirpy Amelia Cranston got the message,

  “How do you rate Kenneth Truelove’s
chances, guv?” asked Neil.

  “I think he’s dreading the thought of getting asked to continue as Acting Chief Constable for the foreseeable future,” said Gus.

  “The Police and Crime Commissioner can’t have enjoyed the frequent changes in the top job in the past three months. Even if they were unavoidable,” said Alex. “My bet is he’ll want a period of stability, and Truelove’s a safe pair of hands who would be at Devizes for another year, anyway. Twelve months gives the PCC time to find the right man or woman for the job.”

  “I think you’re right, Alex,” said Gus, “but the ACC wants to get out as soon as possible. He fears his wife’s reaction to his accepting the role far more than telling the PCC to shove it.”

  “We should continue to give him our total support, regardless,” said Neil. “The CRT wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for him. The ACC convinced the top brass to let him get Gus out of retirement and then fought Sandra Plunkett’s attempts to shut us down.”

  “I think we’ve repaid his trust in us, so far,” said Alex. “Even though I didn’t work on the latest case, our success rate is impressive. As long as we keep delivering positive results, we should survive whoever’s in charge.”

  “I guess Lydia told you we’re adding another body to the team from July?” asked Gus.

  “Yes,” said Alex, “actually, she mentioned Blessing’s name before Geoff Mercer learned that her family was moving south to Bath.”

  “Blessing impressed me when we met in Cirencester,” said Lydia. “She’s young and raw, but that’s no bad thing. She’s eager to learn.”

  Gus caught the look she gave him. Did Lydia expect him to say something?

  “Geoff Mercer didn’t offer me an opportunity to vet the original members of my team,” he said. “It’s been tough, but considering he dumped you three on me, I reckon I deserve a medal for knocking you into shape so quickly.”

  “I was lucky to be in the right place at the right time,” said Luke. “I didn’t give it a second thought when DS Mercer asked if I’d fill in for Neil when he went on special assignment.”

  “It was me who was lucky,” said Gus. “I would have been a dead man if you hadn’t been right behind me that morning when Eron Dushka tried to kill me.”

  “I think Alex hit the nail on the head,” said Suzie, “positive results breed confidence. When everyone on the team performs at a high level, especially with the example given by the person at the helm, then nobody will threaten what you’re doing. They’d be fools to change a winning team.”

  “We started like a Championship side,” said Neil, “with high hopes and ambitions.”

  “Here we go,” said Gus, “We can always rely on Neil to use a football analogy.”

  “Yes, Gus,” said Neil. “Now, we’re a Premiership club with aspirations of a Champions League spot. Our squad needs strengthening. Alex and DC Umeh will be with us from the beginning of July. Who knows whether there will be further summer signings?”

  “You are funny, Neil,” gushed Amelia.

  Gus groaned. Suzie dug him in the ribs.

  “Who’s ready for another drink?” asked Nicky.

  “We’ve got a tab running behind the bar,” said Neil, “it’s under the name of Freeman.”

  “Cheeky beggar,” said Gus.

  “That’s what we did last time, Gus,” said Alex, “Neil thought it made sense.”

  “Trust me to be on soft drinks when you’re paying, Gus,” said Suzie.

  “You can have a glass of wine when we get home,” he replied. That earned him another dig in the ribs.

  The drinks and banter flowed more readily as the night progressed. Gus settled the bar bill on his return from a trip to the Gents just as the landlord asked if the remaining stragglers didn’t have homes of their own.

  “That’s our signal to leave,” said Suzie. “Thanks for a great evening. I’m sure I’ll bump into many of you at London Road.”

  “Can we give anyone a lift?” asked Nicky.

  “No, thanks,” said Amelia, “Neil booked us a taxi. It should be outside in the lane.”

  “We’ll get off then, Gus,” said Luke, “see you on Monday.”

  “Likewise,” said Lydia, “I’ll drop Alex off on my way home to Chippenham.”

  “Not long now, Alex,” said Gus, shaking his colleague’s hand. “Keep up the excellent work. We look forward to seeing you back with us in a fortnight.”

  “Thanks, guv. I can’t wait,” said Alex. He and Lydia made their way out of the bar through the empty restaurant. Gus and Suzie followed behind.

  “Alex’s walking’s slightly improved,” Gus whispered. “He might dispense with the stick by the time he rejoins the team.”

  “Look,” said Suzie as they reached the outer door. Neil and Amelia stood on the grass verge, waiting for their taxi.

  “What did I miss?” asked Gus, “I was watching Lydia reverse out of that parking space. She travels faster in reverse than I do going forwards when I don’t know the road.”

  “She’s all over Neil like a rash,” said Suzie, “poor Melody. It’s not right.”

  “Geoff warned me she had a reputation,” said Gus. “He’s got her on the shortlist to join the team. I’m all for diversity, and the girl has the right qualities from what I’ve seen of her work. I fear that she’ll prove more trouble than she’s worth.”

  “Geoff’s a good man,” said Suzie as they reached her car. “He won’t force anyone on you if you explain your reasoning.”

  “Did I put my foot in it earlier?” asked Gus when they sat inside the car.

  “It’s no secret we are together,” said Suzie. “Luke saw us in the back of the car when he drove us home from Leek Wootton.”

  “You were all over me like a rash that night,” laughed Gus, “it’s catching.”

  “Aren’t you concerned about Neil’s behaviour?”

  “He’s a grown man. I won’t interfere in his private life, and I’d hope he’d keep his nose out of mine. My only concern is how he performs within the Crime Review Team. If it affects his work, then it becomes an issue. You saw how I dealt with Alex. Neil would suffer the same fate. He’d be off the team until he could guarantee one hundred per cent focus one hundred per cent of the time. As for Amelia Cranston, I won’t entertain adding her name to our merry band if she’s a divisive influence.”

  “That’s fair enough,” said Suzie. “When you mentioned the glass of wine later, it was Amelia that worried me. I’m happy for the team to know that we’re spending time together, but Amelia doesn’t know the meaning of the word secret. She’ll spread the rumour at London Road on Monday morning that we’re living together.”

  “You’ll see her before I do,” said Gus, “put her straight.”

  Suzie started the car.

  “If she talks, she talks,” she said. “I spend a good deal of time with you at the bungalow. Let’s get back there. You can pour me a large glass of red wine and then convince me you want me to take the last step.”

  Monday, 18th June 2018

  “Another day of anticipation, guv,” said Neil Davis when Gus Freeman strolled through the lift doors at five minutes to nine.

  “Plus ca change, plus c’est la meme chose,” replied Gus.

  “If you say so, guv. We never did Italian at school. The teachers struggled to get us to speak English, let alone a foreign language. What did it mean?”

  “It was French, Neil, and it means the more things change, the more they stay the same. Despite three attempts at roadworks to improve the situation between here and Devizes, I’m convinced I take longer every Monday to reach the Old Police Station.”

  “Perhaps the novelty has worn off, guv,” said Luke Sherman, who had followed Gus upstairs in the lift. “When you first came out of retirement, you were keen and full of enthusiasm. After half a dozen cases that reminded you of the pain and suffering certain individuals inflict on others, you’re wondering why you bothered. There’s always another case, and it’s har
d not to believe the message coming back from the uniformed officers at the sharp end who say we’re fighting a losing battle.”

  “Come on, Lydia,” said Gus, “where are you? I need your beaming smile and a light-hearted quip about something trivial. This conversation is too dark and dismal for me first thing on a Monday.”

  Luke and Neil disappeared into the restroom. Gus heard the Gaggia fire up above the low hum of conversation. Maybe they were discussing the events of Friday night.

  As far as Gus could tell, the get-together had achieved its purpose of a team celebration. The first they’d had since they solved Daphne Tolliver’s murder. On that level, it was a success. Gus wasn’t a fan of spending an excessive amount of time with his work colleagues at social events. He believed in maintaining a discreet distance between himself and his team. It was the way the senior detectives in Salisbury had operated, and he saw no good reason to change.

  As the clock on the wall in front of him flicked round to nine o’clock the lift doors opened and in breezed Lydia Logan Barre. An orange bandana attempted to control her unruly mop of hair. Her latest version of conservative office-wear to pacify Gus was a crisp, white shirt worn over the now familiar black leather skirt.

  Gus closed his eyes. With luck, they wouldn’t need to drive anywhere today to interview members of the public. Lydia’s short skirt emphasised her impressive pair of legs, and in the few months she’d worked with him Gus knew that at least one interviewee had almost had a heart attack when the young woman entered the room. Although, that could have been his guilty conscience.

  “Gosh, I was nearly late,” she said, “Alex forgot to set the alarm. I told him he couldn’t afford to be late when he starts work again. Are the boys in the restroom?”

  Gus nodded.

  “I’ll bring your coffee back, guv,” she said, as she rocked towards the door on her four-inch heels.

  Lydia returned a few minutes later with Luke and Neil trailing behind. She placed Gus’s black, no sugar coffee beside his keyboard, and slipped a Bourbon biscuit alongside.

  “In my day it was an apple for the teacher,” he said, “but a chocolate Bourbon is acceptable. Is this to mark a special occasion?”