by Adam Croft
Caroline put Mark’s head on her shoulder and rubbed his back. ‘She probably knew. If the ambulance didn’t even get there on time with the blues and twos going, there was no way you were going to.’
‘But if we were closer.’
‘No, you can’t think like that,’ she replied, for her own benefit as much as his. ‘Even in London, it would’ve taken us far longer to get to hers than an ambulance would.’
‘But she might have called me instead.’
‘I know. But what good would that have done? You’d have got there later, still found her gone and been left wondering if things might have been different had she only called an ambulance. Or you’d be feeling guilty that you didn’t call one for her before leaving. At least this way you know there was nothing anybody could have done. And you get to remember her the way she was her whole life, rather than having that image plaguing you for the rest of yours.’
Mark nodded. She knew he still had the same memories of his dad and brother in their final weeks, their bodies withering away in front of them, as if decomposing before death.
‘I need to be there,’ he said. ‘I… I want to see her, I think. I don’t know. Maybe I just need to be in the house. To feel her.’
‘I know,’ she replied, comforting him. They’d both spent the vast majority of their lives as Londoners, tied to the city. Families, friends, jobs. His mum had been their only major link with London. There was no denying it was the end of an era in so many ways. ‘I’m presuming you haven’t told the boys?’
Mark shook his head. ‘No. I couldn’t. I just needed to… I dunno. I needed a bit of time to myself. I needed to process it all first.’
She’d been about to say he should’ve called her when he found out, when she remembered he’d called her twice while she’d been at Fineshade Wood. She’d silenced the calls, purely because she didn’t want to spook Tom, but with the presumption at the back of her mind that Mark was only calling to whinge that she wasn’t home and hadn’t let him know she’d be late. The guilt set in hard this time, and she began to feel overwhelmed with emotion. She embraced her husband, the two of them crying together, closer than they had been in many months.
54
Sleep had been hard to come by. After having sat up with Mark and getting to bed late, Caroline spent most of the rest of the night worrying about the boys, and how she was going to explain their grandmother’s death to them.
When Mark’s dad and brother had died, it had been expected. They’d been ill for quite some time, and the family had all had time to prepare — not that it made things any easier. In many ways, it had been harder watching them suffer for so long, going through treatment after treatment, hope after hope, then knowing the end was coming no matter what.
She couldn’t imagine what that last stage must feel like. She’d been through the others, of course, but had thankfully never had to come to terms with the knowledge — the absolute certainty — that the end was near. She didn’t know how she’d deal with that acceptance, if she could accept it at all. There had been a great many times when it had crossed her mind. More than she cared to remember. But it had always been a worry, a possibility; never the definite outcome.
She felt guilty at equating her illness with what had happened to Mark’s dad and brother, but it was unavoidable. If anything, it had helped her to convince herself that the same wouldn’t happen to her. Her assumption — her hope — was that lightning couldn’t strike thrice.
There was a dull ache at the back of her head — and an increasingly sharp one at the front — as she arrived at work that morning, ready for her meeting with Chief Superintendent Derek Arnold. She’d be pulled up for approaching Tom Mackintosh on her own, without the backup of armed response. There was no doubt about that. But she was comfortable and confident that she could explain her reasoning and certainty that doing things any other way would’ve resulted in a vastly different outcome. Whether she could put that across succinctly and delicately after so little sleep, though, was another matter.
She knocked on the door of Arnold’s office and waited for him to call her in. She stepped inside and sat down.
‘Well, good morning,’ the Chief Superintendent said, a smile crossing his face. ‘Did you get much sleep?’
‘Not as much as I would’ve liked, but then again, when is that not the answer?’
‘Indeed. Still, marginally better than a night shift, eh?’
‘Marginally,’ Caroline replied with a smile. Conversations with Arnold always seemed to feel slightly stilted. She could never quite work him out, and there was often an air of something approaching awkwardness.
‘So, how’s everything going otherwise? You seem to be recovering well.’
‘I am, I think. Still not fully there yet, but I don’t think I’m far off.’
‘Good, good. Have you had the... you know... the all clear?’
‘Not quite. In remission, hopefully. I should find out any day now if the operation got everything or if it’s grown back since. Then they’re talking about scans and checkups every few months before they’re happy to sign me off completely.’
Arnold raised his eyebrows and murmured to himself. ‘Blimey. Quite the journey, eh? Still, fingers crossed we’re on the home straight now.’
‘Fingers crossed, sir.’
‘And a good result on Operation Cruickshank. In the end.’
Caroline forced a smile. She understood the not-so-hidden meaning of those last three words. ‘Yes, in the end,’ she said, feeling an immediate need to justify herself but trying to find the words to do so diplomatically. ‘It wasn’t a conventional case, by any means. Far from straightforward and with a number of complicating factors, so I think the whole team can be very proud of what we’ve managed to achieve in a relatively short space of time.’
Arnold nodded as he looked at her. ‘Indeed. Indeed. And while we’re on the subject of unconventionality... I think you know what I’m going to say.’
‘Fineshade Wood?’
‘Fineshade Wood.’
‘I know,’ Caroline replied. ‘To be honest, it was one of those situations where a judgment call had to be made. Knowing what we knew of Mackintosh and the circumstances as a whole, we judged it would be far less risky to go in and talk to him rather than having an armed mob turn up.’
‘Or a selection of highly-trained officers, as most people would call them.’
‘I appreciate that, sir. And I agree. But I’m looking at this through the eyes of the man with the kidnap victim and the weapon. From what we knew of him, and of Amie Tanner, we came to the conclusion that it was the best way of resolving things without further injury or loss of life.’
‘We?’ Arnold asked.
‘Sorry. Me. The decision was entirely mine.’
‘Okay. We’ve got trained negotiators for that, you know. It’s no good risking your own safety.’
‘I know. But we had an existing relationship with him. I judged that would be a big advantage, considering the circumstances. And I think that judgement has been borne out to be the right one, all things considered.’
Arnold looked at her for a moment, then gave a single, solitary nod of acceptance. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘You do realise I’m saying all this because these are the questions that’ll be asked of me. I’ve got to answer to my superiors, too.’
‘Of course.’
‘For what it’s worth, I think you made the right call. And I’ll be passing that up the food chain.’
‘Thank you, sir. That means a lot.’
Arnold smiled. ‘In fact, there’s something else I want to speak to them about. I may as well tell you now. I’m planning on nominating you for a special commendation.’
Caroline was stunned into silence. She felt sure Arnold would at least question her methods, if not rip her a new one, but she certainly hadn’t expected this. ‘Oh. Wow. Thank you, sir. It’s an honour.’
‘No guarantees, of course. It’s not technically up to
me; I can only nominate you. But in my experience these things tend to go through without a hitch. Provided you haven’t slept with the Assistant Chief Constable’s wife or anything.’
‘Not that I can recall, sir. What’s her name?’
‘Susan. I wouldn’t recommend it. She strikes me as a biter.’
‘I’ll bear it in mind, sir. I wouldn’t want to spoil my chances.’
Arnold smiled again. ‘And proper closure on the Russell Speakman case, too. That’s not to be sniffed at.’
‘Yeah, that was a handy little bonus. I’m afraid I can’t really take any credit for that one, though.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. From what I understand, it was your tenacity and probing that flushed Ruby whatsherface out into the open.’
‘Ruby Clifford. And I’m not sure about that. She was racked with guilt, the poor thing, even though she hadn’t really done anything. At least now her conscience is clear. And, as you say, it gives the case proper closure.’
‘Good. Good. Now, on to more important matters. I hear on the grapevine that a few of you are planning on having some celebratory drinks later. Is that correct?’
Caroline winced inwardly. Arnold’s tone told her he wasn’t exactly best pleased with what he’d heard. ‘Well, it was mentioned briefly that one or two might stop off for a quick half on the way home. But nothing heavy, especially not for those working tomorrow.’
‘Ah, I think you misunderstand me, DI Hills,’ Arnold said. ‘You’ve got every right to celebrate and enjoy yourselves. That wasn’t really my question.’
‘Sorry, sir,’ Caroline said, feeling surer than ever that she’d never truly understand the man. ‘What is the question then?’
Arnold’s smile returned, and this time it was beaming. ‘Have you got room for one more?’
55
Although Caroline had never been a big pub-goer, she found the low rumble of conversation and the occasional chinking of glasses to be strangely comforting and relaxing. On the whole, she couldn’t stand background noise, but there was something about pubs that was different.
Pubs in London had an altogether different vibe. She’d rarely visited any of the pubs in and around Cricklewood. From what she could make out, they’d been either dive bars, extortionately priced gastropubs or even more extortionately priced craft beer houses made to cater for the growing hipster community. One of the many things she’d been glad to discover in Rutland was that the traditional British pub was alive and well — and few did it in greater style than the Wheatsheaf, just a stone’s throw from work and a short meander home should it be necessary to leave her car, which more often than not tended to be the case.
It would be fair to say the dynamic had shifted slightly with the addition of Derek Arnold to the celebratory drinks but, to give him his due, he seemed to be trying his best to fit in and not wear his superior-officer hat too obviously. On the contrary, Caroline found herself more concerned with her own team.
Almost as if he could read her mind, Aidan looked up from his phone and forced a smile. He’d seemed distracted the whole evening, constantly checking his phone and responding to text messages.
She’d noticed Sara had been quieter than usual over the past few days too, and through everything else that’d been going on she hadn’t pieced it all together. When she thought back, it was obvious. She’d taken the revelation about Aidan being gay far harder than she’d initially let on. Sara had more or less worked it out for herself, and had told Caroline she’d had an inkling, but it was now clear that she’d been clinging onto the hope she’d been wrong for far too long.
Sara had always been one of the quieter officers she’d met. She was calm, collected, dedicated and studious. But Caroline felt shamed that she didn’t know much more about her. The chat they’d had over coffee in The Daily Grind had been a revelation in many ways, but it still hadn’t escaped her notice that she knew precious little about such an important member of her team. If she was honest with herself, she didn’t know all that much about any of them, with perhaps the partial exception of Dexter, who she’d spent much more time with, and who seemed only too happy to share details about his life.
‘So. Anyone got any holidays planned this year?’ she asked, before realising how cringeworthy the question sounded.
‘Nothing planned,’ Dexter replied. ‘Might sort out something last minute.’
A rumble of laughter ran through the group at the inside joke. As wonderful as last-minute holidays sounded, the succession of ever-changing shift patterns meant planning ahead was key.
‘How about you, Aidan?’ Caroline asked.
Aidan looked up from his phone, for what must have been only the second time that evening. ‘Huh? Sorry.’
‘Holidays. Got any planned?’
‘Oh. No, not really. We might try and get a few days in Devon or Cornwall in the summer. See how it goes.’
The wording hadn’t been lost on Caroline. ‘We? Have you kissed and made up, then?’
‘Hmmm? Oh. No. No, we haven’t. This is somebody new.’
Caroline nodded. ‘Ah. Is that who you’ve been typing out War and Peace to for the last hour and a half?’
‘Sorry.’
‘Honestly, it’s fine,’ she said, laughing. ‘I remember when I used to like Mark. Someone local, is it?’
‘Yeah. Very local, actually. As in about-ten-houses-further-down-Northgate local.’
Caroline glanced across at Sara. She was a difficult person to read, but she’d been subdued for days anyway, and Aidan was clearly distracted and mentally elsewhere. Besides which, the couple of pints of Tiger Caroline’d sunk had loosened her up a little.
‘Well why not join us?’ she said, the issue of getting to know her team personally being very much on her mind. It’d be good to meet Aidan’s new man from the off.
‘Are you sure?’ Aidan asked, as if trying to work out if the offer was genuine.
‘Of course,’ Caroline replied. ‘The more the merrier.’
‘Are you going away anywhere this year, sir?’ Sara asked Derek Arnold, in a clear attempt to change the conversation.
‘Well, my wife and I tend to go to St Lucia for a couple of weeks. There’s a nice little spot we’ve been to a few times.’
‘Christ, I bet you wish you were joining Aidan in Cornwall, don’t you?’ Caroline said, chuckling.
Arnold smiled. ‘Not much, no.’
‘Colour me jealous,’ Dexter said. ‘I was hoping to do a pilgrimage to Antigua this year, but I can’t see that happening.’
‘You still got family there?’ Arnold asked.
‘Some. Fairly distant ones I’ve either never met or only met once as a child. We went back once in the holidays when I was at school. I was probably only about six, so I barely remember it, but I remember thinking it was my idea of paradise. It’s definitely made holidays since feel much more mundane.’
All the talk of holidays made Caroline yearn to get away. Mark and the boys needed it just as much as she did, especially after the last year or two. She told herself she’d pop into Savvi Travel on the high street over the weekend and pick up some details. She could never get on with booking holidays over the internet. She was sure it was great if you knew exactly where and when you wanted to go, but travel websites didn’t seem to cope well with searches like ‘somewhere hot, with a swimming pool, in the next twelve months’.
Twenty minutes later, and with the glasses almost empty, Caroline had completely forgotten that Aidan’s new boyfriend was due to join them. So she was more than a little surprised when the door opened and a stunning young woman came in, looked around, spotted Aidan and walked straight over.
Aidan stood and kissed her on the cheek, putting his arm around her. ‘Guys, this is Keira. Caroline, my DI. Dex and Sara. And I’m not quite sure whether I’m meant to call you sir, or...’
‘Derek’s more than fine in the pub,’ Arnold said, smiling, oblivious to everything that had been said between Aidan, Sara
and Caroline. ‘Pleasure to meet you, Keira.’
Caroline looked over at Sara, whose demeanour had dropped several octaves, despite trying to put a brave face on it.
‘Do you want a drink?’ Aidan asked Keira, gesturing towards the bar.
‘It’s alright. It’s my round,’ Caroline said. ‘Actually, Aidan, you can give me a hand.’
They went over to the bar and placed their order.
‘She seems nice,’ Caroline said.
‘She is, yeah.’
‘And female.’
Aidan looked at her for a moment. ‘Uh, yes. Well spotted.’
‘So, you’re...’
‘Bisexual. Yes. Is that an issue?’
‘No. No, of course not. Obviously not. I mean, I thought you were gay, so, you know.’
‘Sorry to disappoint,’ Aidan quipped, smiling.
Caroline turned her head towards their table. Keira was proving to be as bright and bubbly as she’d first seemed and was already holding court, engaging the others as she told a witty anecdote. Caroline could see Sara was trying to be polite and friendly, but there was something else underneath. Disappointment. Confusion. Regret.
‘Is something up?’ Aidan asked.
‘No. No, nothing at all,’ Caroline replied, taking her card from her purse. ‘All good.’
‘With Sara, I mean. She’s been a bit funny recently.’
Caroline tried to think of the best way to answer. ‘I think she’s alright. I’ve not asked.’
‘I have,’ Aidan replied. ‘She said she was fine, but I don’t believe her. Might be worth keeping an eye on her.’
‘Yeah,’ Caroline said, looking back over at Sara. ‘Yeah, I will.’
‘I’ve got a lot of time for her. She’s a nice girl.’
‘Sara?’
‘Yeah. Why, do you not think so?’
‘Of course. Yes, sorry, no, that’s not what I meant. Sorry.’
Aidan gave her an odd look. ‘I don’t know how confused I’m meant to be right now, but I think I’d score pretty highly.’
