CHAPTER 1
That sky was so blue it hurt, but I was distracted from it by Mam’s faffing. No problem packing, none at the airport, but she was all fingers, thumbs and rambling conversation, and as those fingers held a needle I was hoping she could find her attention span extending enough to avoid me bleeding into the white of my dress.
It had popped a seam when we had hauled it out of the garment bag, god knows why, but she was on it. The trouble was that IT was on ME. I bit my tongue, which wanted to tell her all about how another piece of her sewing had fallen apart, but that would have been cruel. This was no day for cruelty. I tried to bring up my old mantra, but it kept coming out as ‘Police, marital’, which didn’t work quite as well.
“Mam, how much longer?”
“Few seconds, love…. There. Just got to trim the end, isn’t it? Let’s have a look…”
She stepped back, and with a mutter of “There’s beautiful” I realised she was about to burst into tears. Shit.
“Mam!”
She jerked, attention caught. Good.
“Bridget did something special last night, something really good”
Mam smiled. “She was always good for you, girl, especially while we were away. What was it?”
“Handed me some stones, pebbles, and each one got a name, and then we threw them as far as we could into the sea, and each one we told to fu--- to go away and never come back”
She stepped forward, close enough to take my hands but far enough away to leave my dress unmarked, uncreased.
“I know what you two really said, love. And did; your knickers were full of sand, so…”
She dropped my hands as hers rose to cover her blush, before she spoke in a very quiet voice.
“I was just thinking, you know, swimming at night, getting sand in your knickers and… And hoping you’d got rid of all that sand before, well, tonight…”
I knew exactly what her thought had been, of course, and we were still laughing when Dad came for me, looking wonderful in a lightweight morning suit. There was a horse-drawn covered carriage thing waiting outside our hotel and as we climbed in, just the three of us, Bridget, Tammy and Candice settled into another, waiting just behind ours. The hooves clopped, the suspension squeaked, and the breeze of our motion cleared away any clouds of doubt I might have had, if I had also managed the trick of being both blind and stupid.
I had no doubts at all, and what little remnants had tried to shake me the night before had been banished by Bridget and her clever gambit. Go to it, DC Owens.
No church for us, no procession through a graveyard as an organ pumped out the traditional tunes. We had a platform laid on the beach, shaded by an awning, and a local priest was ready for us. Mam descended first, and made her way to the front of the ranks of chairs, where my man awaited me, Alun by his side as a surprise best man.
So many of the nick had made it out for the wedding, including Dai Gould, as well as Chris, Omar and Scott, the Mohammeds, Bryn, Barry; my past life in its entirety, it seemed. No organ, but a little band of local musicians. As they started to play, and my maids waited ready beside our carriage, Dad dropped the veil over my face and murmured “How beautiful you are, my darling”
He handed me down, I took his arm, and walked with him to my future life. There is no need for details, but I will always remember that shush-shush of the sea taking on a new significance, one a world away from a dark Ogmore car park.
We said words, and meant them. We gave the rings that confirmed the words, and his eyes and smile on my own said more than the words or the jewellery ever could. We made our promises, and they were real and heartfelt, but it was his presence that told me this was no dream, no false dawn.
There were clichés, of course. We had to have our photos taken in a hundred different poses, including several shin-deep in water as I had a slight panic about my dress getting ruined, and everybody wanted a kiss, including all the lesbians, but I stressed “No tongues!” each time, until I found myself crying along with Mam and Siân.
I looked at her, and simply burst out laughing.
“What are we bloody like, woman? And with no handbag for tissues!”
While we did the beach thing, the resort staff efficiently moved all the seats around and added tables, setting out our wedding meal, eaten under those blue skies to that shush-shush and bird cries.
“Ladies and gentlemen and ladies!”
Alun was standing at the front, Dad beside him.
“Well, it is time for another traditional bit! I should start by saying that as we are a fully diverse and utterly inclusive team, I shall be applying equal opportunity rules to both DC Sutton and, well, DC Sutton! Transcripts will be available from my wife Lynne, over there in the rose-pink, if anyone needs blackmail ammunition.
“I first met Diane when she came to our little office for some lessons on proper coppering, and she really needed some of the rough edges knocked off. The trouble is, she was better at the job than all the rest of us, so we had to find a way of getting her back out of CID before she made us all look like incompetent, lazy, useless---what’s that, Lynne? I AM an incompetent, lazy, useless….? Love you too!
“Now, as I said, we had to find a way of getting her out of the office, which is where that woman sat next to the redhead fell for our subtly-crafted plotting. Yes, Elaine Powell: you thought you were just there to deal with some nasty assault cases. Little did you suspect. Well, anyway, as Lynne says, I am clearly incompetent, because I ended up caught in the slipstream and dragged along with her. Honestly, I could spit! Fortunately, we managed to find someone to distract her, and he is the big man sitting with her now”
He paused, to shuffle his notes it appeared, and then put them away.
“Nope, not going to do that bit. Traditionally, I get to take the mickey out of the groom, and while I could, I simply don’t feel like it. I don’t think it would be appropriate in any way, to be honest. So here is my take on him.
“That woman next to the redhead shook us up, made us look again not just at what we did as coppers but at WHY we did it. She brought together a team of people who were capable of understanding all that, and she and Di led by example. I, personally, found a new focus, a new reason for coming to work beyond mortgage payments, and working beside people like Blake, Di, Candice over there, Rhys and Rob by her, Ellen there… I could go on, but there are too many, and not all of their cheques have cleared in time.
“Good people, all. Some of them are good coppers, some do other jobs, but they, we, are all united in admiration of Diane and Blake Sutton, and now overwhelmed to see them together and glowing with happiness. So, without wasting any more of your time, please raise your glasses. The bride and groom: Diane and Blake Sutton!”
Soppy man.
Once our wedding meal was eaten, the staff moved the chairs again, and there was now a dance floor available, so of course we did the aimless shuffle obligatory for newly-weds who can’t dance, before a normal car took me and the maids back to the resort proper so that we could get changed ready for the party, which was a delight, and, and, and.
There was only one slight hiccup, and that was the early departure of Alun and his wife, and I noticed her leaning on him before opening her rather large handbag to produce a folding walking stick, which she clearly needed.
Later, DC Owens. Sutton. I prodded my husband.
“What do you want, Mrs Sutton?”
“That’s it, really. Got what I want. But we need to think about names at work, yeah? Bit confusing for the punters. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I might need to hang onto Owens for work”
“Why wait? Run it past Sammy or Lainey”
I giggled, as I wasn’t fully sober for some reason.
“Don’t think either of them are really with us anymore, love! Speaking of which…”
We would have missed breakfast the next morning, but the eminently sensible hotel staff had a tray ready for us. We finally left our room at about one in the afternoon. I could get used to married life if it were all going to be like the first day.
It couldn’t be, of course, and our combined wedding and honeymoon finally came to an end in a flurry of last-minute packing interspersed with farewells to those flying other routes back to their homes or simply needing to get back to work. Bridget and Tammy were the first to go, and once more I felt that wrench. So much of my recovery was tied up in her, so much of the life I had. It seemed so unfair that I couldn’t have her on call, just a few doors away. She was insistent, though.
“Write, you two. Skype. Whatever”
Blake hugged her and Tammy in turn.
“Best leave it at electronic stuff for now, you two. We are looking for somewhere decent to live, and if it goes smoothly we could be gone from the old place in a hurry. We’ll have to save, as well. I always wanted to see Australia”
Bridget was fine with him, but neither of us could hold back our tears when we hugged. She crushed the breath out of me, whispering into my ear.
“A life well-lived, girl!”
They were gone, leaving a huge hole in my life, but so much love still there. I settled down to finish our packing, making sure I had one final souvenir, a pebble from the beach, which I wrapped in some socks for the flight back.
Just like the other pebbles, I gave this one a name.
Charlie Cooper.
CHAPTER 2
Dad, of course, was the one who gave us a hand moving, after we finally found a suitable place up by Radyr. Blake and I were both renting, so it was Dad who helped with the deposit, Dad who helped with the fees, Dad who helped with the physical moving and so on, and Mam who ensured that we had all the little things that are always forgotten for a new home. I am embarrassed to say that the last included toilet paper. I had heard stories about people finding the only acceptable use for the Daily Mail, cutting it into squares, but just ‘no’. I mentioned that thought to my new husband, and he just laughed, pointing out that the whole purpose of toilet paper is wiping stuff off, not rubbing it on.
There was also the small matter of Fritz, Blake’s elderly ginger tom. We had a back garden, but cats are by their nature climbers, and so we kept him in for a few days until he had satisfied himself as to which territory he was in and whose it was.
His, of course.
Oddly, I had never had a pet, and it was strange getting used to the routine of litter trays and food dishes, and the early morning wake-up call of a heavy and furry lump lying on top of me and purring for his breakfast. That was bad enough, but his habit of slipping under the bloody duvet to warm his paws against my back soon had me wearing nighties again. Even with all that, I could see why Blake loved him.
Married life suited me, and I think it suited my big man as well. I still kept my maiden name for simplicity at work, though. And of course, the joking was non-stop. Deb asked for a look at our wedding shots---
No. That didn’t happen. What did was that Deb sent me a note signed by everyone in the house demanding that I produce ‘hunk and pictures’ at the first opportunity, and so we had a cake and picture-show evening, Blake and I surrounded by young women of various stages of completion, together with PC Welby, and the mood was very different from my first visit. It seemed that while the ripples from our individual sufferings had spread, so had those from the court cases. Apart from a couple of new arrivals, who were very arms’-length at the start of the evening, everyone was relaxed about having a man in the main room with them. Gradually, that relaxation settled the two new girls, and when one of them made a sighing comment about my wedding dress, I knew we were getting to them in a nice way.
There was something else going on, though, and it took me a while to work out where the focus lay, and I made sure I found a moment in the kitchen with Deb.
“What’s the score, mate?”
She turned round to lean her backside against the work top. Even though her words were sweetly innocent, her position told me she expected a longer conversation. I tried a smile.
“Deb, someone is up to something in that room, and they don’t want me to know about it. You got any problems? Anything I can help with?”
She cocked her head. “And you haven’t helped already?”
“Bollocks, Deb, that’s old stuff. This is something new. Who is getting shit?”
She shrugged. "Not really what’s happening, Di. More a little bit of nerves, a little bit of worry, some confusion and rather a lot of shyness”
I laughed. “Not Charlie, then! Tiff? Gemma?”
She sighed. “Nope. It’s Paul”
“Oh! He getting attached to someone here?”
“No, Di. Not here, so much”
“Is it Kim? Bit young for him, I’d have thought”
“No, not anyone that’s been here. He’s worried how work would take it”
“Deb, really? We have a few dinosaurs we haven’t got rid of yet, and we’ve not got that many trans people with us…”
Stop now, Di; do not ‘out’ Annie.
“But look at how they all pulled together for those arrests, yeah? I think South Wales are able to adapt a bit more, these days”
She shook her head, smiling softly.
“It’s not that, Mrs Sutton. It’s about boundaries, professional ones”
Sammy always said I had great insight, but it wasn’t working very well just then, and---oh!
“Deb: these boundaries: investigating officer and previous offender, by any chance?”
She looked away for a while.
“Yes, love. You have it. Paul’s always been someone slow to open up. Don’t get me wrong, he’s been good as gold with the girls, and there’s always that bit when someone is too friendly, too quickly, too much like a chaser, isn’t it? That wasn’t Paul. Always polite, always pleasant, but it took him a long while before he opened up to be able to tease the girls back when they tried to embarrass him”
“What, your lot?”
She grinned this time, and it was genuine.
“Di, teenage girls are always the same, and teenage girls just love to tease. Mine are just the same as any other. You not worked it out yet? I suspect you have”
I nodded. “If I have it right, this is an awkward one. What has he told you?”
“That she seems to be on the same wavelength, but both of them are worried it’s an infatuation thing. Man on a white horse, riding to the rescue stuff”
I nodded again. “Paula’s not stupid, Deb. I am right, aren’t I?”
“You usually are, my friend. He is wound right up about professional ethics, and at the same time terrified that her feelings aren’t real ones. Bit of a mess all round”
“Does he know you’re talking to me?”
“I suggested it. His own plan is simpler, he says: be there for Paula until she can get straight, get off the junk, yeah? Get her life back on track, as she was saying after the trial, and then, once she’s in a position to see clearly, only then deal with the work side of it”
I shook my head at his strength, and Deb put her hand to my shoulder.
“He’s a proper, old-school, gentleman is Paul, as well as a decent copper. You up to watching his back?”
I stepped forward for a proper hug.
“Stupid bloody question, Deb! Got any more pastries hiding out here?”
I talked it over with Blake that night, as the three of us lay in bed, Fritz’s purr loud in my ear as he lay along my pillow above my head.
“Dunno what the answer is, Di. If it goes wrong he could be done for all sorts of impropriety charges, but it’s her as well, her situation. I mean, she’s a smackhead street whore!”
“Blake…”
“No, luv, not how I meant it. Not my thoughts, aye? I saw what she was in court, and she’s not what she was reduced to, that’s just what she was made into. The person underneath, well, Ashley Evans, aye? I think she’s a bit like you, that she never lost herself, at least not completely How did you leave it?”
“Watch and wait, watch his back, yeah?”
“Spot on, love. Now, up for a trip out to Cowbridge next week?
“What for?”
“Lainey wants to say hello. She suggested the same pub”
“Who’s driving, then?”
“Neither of us is, Mrs Sutton! I’ve already asked at that place up the lane. They have a room! You didn’t marry an idiot”
I snuggled into him, relaxed and happy.
“I know that. Remember to take the laptop and the discs with the pictures on, then”
It felt odd, parking up outside what I thought of as Omar’s hotel, but any bad associations were disposed of by the welcome from the landlady, who remembered us both, and the stop we made on the lane to smash every window of a certain tosser’s cottage and set fire to his car.
I lied about that last bit. Our room was up the ornate wooden staircase I remembered, and it was a delight, with an awning over the top of the very comfortable bed. We laid out what little luggage we had, and as the evening settled around us we strolled hand in hand along the narrow little lane to the junction where the pub sat. We found a comfy corner, secured an extra couple of seats for our friend to use when she arrived, and grabbed a decent ale each.
I poked him in the ribs.
“Some honeymoon this is, DC Sutton. One night in a hotel in Cowbridge. Don’t think I’ll be marrying you again”
Happily, he got the joke, and as he already had the menus I settled back against him for comfort and began planning my meal.
Elaine and her wife weren’t too long in arriving, and after a few minutes of relaxation and similar menu study, we put the order in and settled back as we awaited food and, in the case of two of us, a reason for the meeting. It wasn’t that I wasn’t happy to see them both, but rather that there was usually a reason for such meetings, and not always a pleasant one. She kept it light, though.
“Not driving tonight, Blake?”
“No, we took a room, innit?”
I smirked at her surprised grin. I didn’t marry a stupid man. I knew the look that followed, though; it was one she showed when she was building up to something important, something that affected the person she was talking to. And she didn’t disappoint us.
“Annie’s coming over by here in a week”
Shit. I was right, but it wasn’t anywhere near any of my guesses. I couldn’t help it, jerking upright, and speaking in reaction. I gave Blake a quick look as the words spoke for themselves, praying he would understand while knowing, absolutely, that he would.
“Could… could I see her?”
Elaine fixed me with a flat stare, what she called her ‘plismon look’.
“That be a good idea, girl?”
How the hell could I know? All I wanted was to see her happy, for fuck’s sake. I had been so close to making a fool of myself with Adam, if not both of us, but while I wished her all possible happiness I didn’t want her hurt, even with the best of intentions. Blake reached out for my hand, and mine was there, and I needed his, and he knew it, just as I knew once more that I had the right man.
“No, it wouldn’t. I just thought, you know, sneaky like. I mean, we did sort of get good at that, didn’t we?”
“What are you thinking?”
“Well, I know you, Lainey, we both do. You said you had her back, so we assume you’ll be actually there, watching her back, innit? Just in case?”
“I can’t be sure I’ll be free to do that. Tied up in bloody office work, can’t sneak off like I did for the wedding. And you call me sneaky, arranging it like that, aye?”
Blake chuckled.
“We do know you, Inspector Powell. Very well indeed. Lainey, if you can’t go you will have sorted a substitute, innit? Who you delegated the duty to?”
That got through to her, as Siân almost snorted some of her wine up.
“Sod it, I trained you two far too well. Siân, cariad, you sure you are happy to drive?”
The redhead wiped the drink from her nose, laughed and nodded, and Elaine rose from her seat, empty glass in hand. She called back over her shoulder to us.
“She’ll have a friend and her husband with her, and if I can’t make it, well, I will sort, aye. Now, what are your thoughts on this?”
I whispered a question to him, after working out that Elaine didn’t mean Annie’s hubby but rather that belonging to her friend. I suspected it would be the Woodruffs, of course, which I found satisfying, as what they had done for Annie had been spot on so far. I made my decision, confirmed by a nod from Blake and a comforting squeeze of my hand.
“Thought I’d go blonde for a while, Lainey, that and some specs. She’s going to be so wound up with nerves she won’t see past the stress blinkers. Just need to know where and when, assuming it’ll be somewhere like a caff or a pub”
Elaine returned from the bar with another pint, as well as a coke for her wife.
“Sure? You know that— “
The redhead simply put her hand over Lainey’s mouth, with a quiet “shush”
“Diane deserves this, Lainey. Di. You just want to see she’s happy, don’t you?”
Blake pulled me to him, into a cuddle, and my tension eased as I saw that she understood.
“Yes. Happy and safe. Then I can relax”
I didn’t relax, though, not until after the meal, after our goodbyes, when my man was able to take me to our room and hold me as I wept into his chest. I didn’t need to explain, I wasn’t worried he might feel jealous.
I just needed to make sure one more victim was safe now, and happy.
He held me, he soothed me, and we made love. The next morning, after a lovely breakfast and an effusive farewell from our host, we stopped by Addison’s for some hair dye.
CHAPTER 3
My life was painful for the next week, just for starters, and of all people Candice was the worst.
“Di. Love, I’ll be around, don’t worry. There are some lessons you’ll need to get sorted before you can get back to work properly, isn’t it? Now, we’ll start with this”
She held up a ballpoint from our stationery cupboard.
“This is called a ‘pen’. You use it for writing, and this is the end that makes marks—Ow!”
She took a step away, rubbing her backside.
“Hubby will get confused if he sees you spanking other women!”
I grinned back, and it felt good to be free once more, open with friends.
“If he gets confused, and he won’t, I can always de-confuse him!”
She snorted.
“Cuppa, girl?”
“Please!”
She brought one straight back, thanks to our urn, and perched on the edge of my desk.
“So, going blonde?”
“Yeah. We have some sneaking around to do, and it’s possible one of the principals might have seen me before. Need to know stuff”
“Ah. I’ll not ask, then. Doesn’t really suit you, though”
“I know. I’ll change back when I can; don’t want to spend months with dark roots”
“You’re from Barry; they’ve all got dark roots there!”
“Cheeky cow!”
“Later, then. Got some more of those kids’ home files to work through, so I’m thinking of going brunette, make them easier”
Our sneaking around opportunity came a few days after my dye had set, in the form of a hurried call from Elaine giving time, place and a quick summary of who would be there, together with the fact that she was unable to attend.
Shit!
“Blake, love, Lainey can’t be there, and it’s this afternoon!”
“Hang on, Di. Sammy? Quick word?”
“This be the sneaking around stuff she went blonde for? No worries; fill me in if you can, but if you need to go, do so”
That was really one of the reasons I loved my role, for our managers simply trusted us rather than needing a minute-by-minute record of everything we did. I grabbed coat and bag and scurried off with my husband to the car we would use. I settled into the passenger seat, and he handed me a small paper bag from Addison’s.
“What’s this, love?”
“Disguise, Supergirl! Lowest power I could get, but they’re big frames, change the shape of your face, or at least break it up”
Safe, smooth, legally (ish) quick, we were soon in Swansea and following the satnav directions to the postcode I had pulled off the internet once Elaine had given me the address. As the slightly posh female voice directed us, Blake started to chuckle.
“Saw a cartoon once, love. Car with all its doors open, and a couple of people cowering in a ditch. From the car you’ve got shouting, ‘AT THE NEXT JUNCTION’, aye? And the woman is saying to the man, ‘Told you not to get a Brian Blessed satnav’”
It wasn’t a bad joke from him, but it wasn’t his normal driving style either.
“You OK, love?”
“Just a little worried, Di. You sure you can cope with this?”
I waited till we were parked up before hugging him, leaving my immediate reply as a squeeze of his left knee. Out of the car, along the pavement and into Tawe Teas, an old place that was divided into a number of nooks and crannies. I switched on my phone, so I could look at the very odd photo Elaine had sent me, which was dominated by the woman I now knew as Mrs Woodruff pulling a very strange face indeed. That wasn’t the point, though, which was the slim dark-haired woman sitting behind her holding a book and pen.
“Blake?”
I showed him the picture as he looked for a reasonable table, and without missing a beat he murmured “Sitting in that little snuggery bit with the family group”
I spotted a table that would leave my back to the door, delegating spotting duty to my man, and as he sorted us out some sandwiches, cake and tea I cast my eyes over the group, the specs making no noticeable difference to my vision.
The dark-haired woman would be Annie’s cousin; four men, one older woman, two younger ones. She was going to be seriously outnumbered.
“Heads up, Di, or rather down. Just arriving”
I dropped my head slightly, and then watched the new group pass our table. Two huge men, one of them familiar…
Ah. Elaine’s uncle. Arwel? I could see where she got her size from. Ye gods, he was big, but so was the other man, who I guessed from his colouring was another relative. Elaine’s father? The Woodruff woman was behind them, but leading, in simple clothing, skirt, blouse, flat shoes, no LBD and stilettoes today: Annie.
She looked terrified, even from behind, as I could see her right hand trembling, just a bit, the knuckles of her left white where they gripped her handbag. She just stood there, shaking, until the dark-haired girl rose from her seat, walked to her and gave her a hug and a kiss on her cheek, with a genuinely warm smile. The older woman looked across.
“Annie, it is always a delight when you come to see your family. And as usual, you do it too infrequently. One day I shall not be here to welcome you”
She was smiling; dismiss her and look for the real threats, police head on and working exactly as Dai Gould had taught me. It was the men who worried me, because all of them were looking at her, and it was nothing less than a glare. Why did I have to leave my asp and spray at work?
The old woman spoke again, as the men muttered, one of them looking as if he wanted to vomit.
“You have brought friends, I see. English, I assume?”
Arwel’s laugh was frighteningly deep.
“Do I sound like a bloody Sais?”
Laughter from one of the other men. Blake kept his eyes on me, measuring my reactions, his own voice a soft whisper.
“If it gets nasty, Di, we get her out of here, whether or not it means showing out, aye?”
“Thanks, love. Keep it steady for now, yeah? Just dominance games so far”
The men were still arguing, and after a discussion about where everyone was from, and Arwel was most definitely doing the dominant stag role, or trying to. He introduced the other man as his brother, so, yes, Lainey’s Dad. Arwel kept that push going right up to the moment one of the younger men told him, effectively, to piss off and mind his own business. He settled his feet, and I knew where I would assign any notional ‘top threat’ in a ruck.
His voice was soft and controlled, his tone one of honest curiosity, but that threat was clear.
“You would have one girl against eight of you, and you are already using words like abomination? How’s that work, then?”
That triggered a really unpleasant outburst from one of the other men, and I saw Blake start to uncoil.
“No, love; wait. Still just verbals for now”
The slim brunette and Annie whispered something to each other, and I saw my old friend take a slow and deep breath before walking ahead and taking a seat among the women, who seemed to be far more welcoming.
I couldn’t make out the rest of the conversation, but it was heated, expressions of shock and sorrow chasing each other over some of the faces, others staying locked to ‘anger’. I was getting ready to uncoil myself when Arwel started. A deep voice, clearly audible, and I had a sudden urge to giggle as I thought of Blake’s satnav joke.
“My Sarah, Twm’s girl, she has a friend, a priest, bit of a papist, aye, but still a good man.”
What the hell? Oh. Elaine had warned me the family were god-botherers. The anger seemed to ease as he brought religion into things, so I made myself relax.
“His name’s Pat, and he left the idolatry behind for the love of a good woman. Because of him, I met my old trout, aye? He wrote a sermon for another incense-botherer, but it was true, and it was right, and it spoke to people’s hearts and souls, aye?”
The Woodruff woman had been to the counter, returning with a tray of teas, and he took an instant to sip some of his.
“He spoke about love, true Christian love, not your sweaty fumbling, aye? He spoke about God wanting Man, each man, to be the best he could, and then he announced the collection would be going to a charity that pays for surgery to cure deformities.”
He glared at one of the men, and I decided that if he was ever top threat in a fight, he would be someone else’s tackle, and not DC Sutton’s.
Hell; I was thinking with my married name now. I gave Blake a little smile of reassurance as Arwel prodded the monkey once more.
“Of course, James, is it? James, you would abjure and repent such actions as against God’s revealed will, manifest in His creation, aye? Have some kiddy in a backward country starve on the streets because Our Lord made him ugly, aye? Have your cousin kill herself because Our Saviour messed up in the crotch area, is it? Is that your family love, your Christian charity? Do you not see from her left hand that others see more clearly?”
That did it, and one of the men stood up shouting, before tugging another one up, both storming past us with angry mutters full of words like ‘abomination, ‘sin’ and ‘depravity’. The door of the café slammed behind them, and I let myself turn in my seat to make sure they had actually left and weren’t simply getting a run-up.
Thank fuck. Threats down by two, so far. Arwel was smiling happily now, and turned to the remaining two men.
“Right, now we have the open minds left, anyone for cake?”
The redhead came past our table, obviously for their order, and I noticed her give Blake and myself a quick once-over. I realised she was not just as worried as the two of us, but just as switched on. Careful, DC Sutton. I put on my sweet and light face.
“Darling, when did they say we could pick the duvets up?”
He caught on immediately.
“About four, cariad”
“Time for another pot, then?”
“Aye. You stay sitting, I’ll sort it”
Mrs Woodruff lost interest and took some cakes back over to their little group, and I tried not to make my tracking too obvious, but to my relief Annie seemed to be doing nothing more worrying than showing off her engagement ring. More conversation, Woodruff putting her own oar in this time, and the mood was slowly easing, till Annie put on a serious face and made some sort of declaration.
The reactions were mixed, some being open smiles while one of the men seemed more resigned than anything. It still brought a broad smile from Arwel, though, so I was able to relax that little bit more.
“Right, now that’s settled, I hear you sing, boys. I am a bass baritone, like Twm here, but my boy Hywel is a wonderful clear tenor, aye?”
Once again, thank fuck. I caught Annie doing something with her phone, Mrs Woodruff peering over her shoulder, and my intuition clicked in.
“Love, I think we may have more company in a few”
“Can’t see those two outside, Di”
“Not that. Annie and Woodruff were texting”
“That man called her Stephanie, love”
“Whatever. I think they’ve called in the last one involved. Annie’s been flashing her ring---oh, put that mind away, you filthy so and so!”
If he could spot bum jokes so easily, he was relaxing again.
“What you thinking, Di?”
“She’s called the bloke up. Fiancé”
“I’ll watch the door, then. I think I can remember his face. You got your phone?”
“What for?”
“Get a snap or two if it ends up going well; let Lainey see it’s all fine”
I smiled, and I knew there was sweetness in it, not the pretence I used for work but the genuine article.
“Blake Sutton, how I love you!”
He grinned back. “And why would I marry you if you didn’t? Now, heads up again. Someone at the door”
I got my phone ready, and two short, slim men walked past our table to stand, just as Annie had, outside the little snug. One of them was shaking slightly, and the other one just gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I had Annie in frame, and as she spotted them, I lost any remaining doubts I may ever have had about her nature, her gender and her sexuality.
Her expression was that of sun burning through a dreary mist, of a spring daffodil, a cold drink on a hot day, a salmon up a weir. Delight, happiness and love. There was relief there as well, but I caught her smile, and then, as one of the men went over to Stephanie, kissed her and sat down, it was definitely the one I had seen trembling.
He stayed where he was, and spread his hands in a very continental shrug.
“Yes, I’m English, but nobody’s perfect”
He walked across to the group, shaking everyone’s hand, before sitting down next to Annie and making a point of kissing her briefly on the lips. My respect for him soared: he had real courage. Obviously terrified, he still went straight ahead and stood up for my friend. The conversation then got onto music for some reason, and he passed Annie a small box, which proved to contain a wooden flute.
She smiled, she played, and the rest sang. So simple to write, so inadequate as description. The whole café went quiet, customers holding still as power and beauty and solid emotion rolled over us all.
I couldn’t help it, and when they had finished I started the applause, which came from everyone there, and then I dragged my man out of the place before I could make a fool of myself by saying hello.
We drove back home, not a word passing between us, no need for anything at all. Safe, surrounded by good people. Safe, and, if that smile on seeing her man meant anything, so, so happy.
CHAPTER 4
I lay with Blake that night, more at ease than I had been for years. So many of my worries had been eased by the trials, and now I saw an old friend happy and safe, and so clearly loved and in love. I mumbled into my husband’s chest without realising it, and he simply hugged me closer to him as Fritz rumbled from the top of my pillow.
“We need to report properly to Lainey, love”
“I texted her, sent a picture, yeah?”
“She’ll have questions. Best answered face to face”
“So, what to do?”
“Sammy’ll be fine. Just rock up at hers; she’s stuck indoors for now, isn’t it? Anyway, what did you think of it all?”
“Confused. Best word I can come up with, just for now. That man obviously cares for her, and Lainey’s uncle, bloody hell”
“Yeah, he’s a big lad, but he’s just like Lainey underneath that mullet”
“That’s not a mullet”
“Would be if he grew it any longer, woman. What I meant was that he’s switched on. He steered that meeting very sweetly. I know two of them stormed out, but he had the rest onside very nicely. Annie’s man, though, he’s got some real guts. I couldn’t see, once he’d sat down, but the look on his face when he came in the door was a classic. You doing the visit to Lainey? Easier for the team if one of us stays at work, aye?”
I settled down against him to get some sleep, my mind replaying that look on her face, the joy, over and over again. That idea ended as he kept talking.
“Di?”
“Yes, love?”
“I know it’s not been that long, aye? You and me?”
I chuckled. “Long enough to get married, husband of mine!”
“Well, just watching your parents, aye?”
“And?”
“Well, mine went years ago, you know that, so they’ve been, well… been there for me, and I hadn’t realised how much I missed that sort of thing”
“Dad sees you as his best mate, love. You know that”
“Oh god, aye. I’d just, well…”
“Spit it out, Sutton”
“We’ve got spare rooms now”
“And I am sure they will be more than happy to stay over now and then”
“Not what I meant, love”
“Well, what--- are you suggesting what I think you are?”
He squeezed me.
“Sort of traditional for married couples, Di”
I reached up to stroke his cheek, and my fingers came away wet.
“Blake? Love? Are you all right?”
He stroked my hair, his hand trembling slightly, and I wriggled round to kiss some of his tears away.
“Di, I didn’t realise how much I miss Mam and Dad, aye? And one thought leads to another, and it was just, well, if I can’t have them back, and I can’t, and Sean, well, obviously he can’t, can he?”
I knew exactly what he meant, and as I thought about it, and how my own parents had stood by me, through so much pain and nastiness, my answer was there fully-formed. I pushed him away slightly so that he could see my face in the dim glow of the street lights through our bedroom curtains, and then bent forward to kiss him properly, before sitting back up again. I kept my voice as gentle as I could manage, but I knew it held a quaver.
“In that case, we better get some practice in.
I was rather tired when I drove out to Carmarthen again the next day, Sammy having been as accommodating as ever, and found my way to her posh office. The receptionist picked up an intercom, Elaine’s voice tinny but just about audible in reply.
“Inspector Powell?”
“Yes, Adele?”
“Got a visitor for you”
“Send him in”
There was definite giggle as Adele put the handset back down.
“Think she’d have got past the sexism, wouldn’t you?”
I took her point, and opened the inner door. Elaine just stared at me, or rather my hair.
“Did you feel your intelligence ebbing as it set? ADELE! ANY CHANCE OF SOME TEA?”
That was loud. Adele called back through the still-open door.
“You have an intercom, Inspector Powell!”
“Er, sorry”
I couldn’t help laughing at Elaine’s embarrassment.
“I have seen all of her films as well, Lainey, but probably not for the same reasons as you, and no, dying my hair hasn’t crippled my mind. You know why I’m here, don’t you?”
She waved at the spare chair, leaning back in her own, staring at me and obviously choosing her words with care, her tone neutral, testing my response.
“What did you think of her?”
Sensible answer, girl.
“That’s the word, isn’t it? ‘Her’?”
She was nodding, and I stayed with the flow.
“I mean, I watched them… Blake and me got a table in the corner of the main room, and they’d all buggered off into the snug bit, but we could still see them from where we were. Hear a bit of it, too, especially when a couple of the men got gobby”
A tray of tea appeared from behind me, and Elaine started.
“Aye, my uncle told me about that. How did you… what did you think? Oh, ta, Adele, we’ll probably be at least a half hour”
I waited for her to sort the cups out while I considered my answer. Elaine was clearly on her side, accepting Annie as a woman, and I ran through my memories of Adam, his smile and cheeky, mischievous sense of humour.
“Lainey, she looked comfortable, innit? I mean, she was bricking it when she walked in, and I could see why, with some of the crap we heard, but she’s in a skirt and shit, and it suited her, and here I am calling her that and it is just so bloody natural to do it”
It was, I realised. It wasn’t just the clothes that had fitted. The whole person, the entire Annie, had seemed to fit. I took the cup from Elaine, and tried to slow my answers down to match the speed of my thoughts by taking a mouthful, which nearly scalded me. Idiot. In for a penny, though.
“She’s straight as well, innit? That bloke you mentioned, yeah?”
“Eric”
“That’s the one. Well, he came round later, and it was like in that war film, you know? Ice Cold in whatsits?”
“Alex”
“Yeah, that one, when they get their beers at the end, and they sit there, and they hold off JUST that little bit, and, well, that was her when he walked in”
She smiled, face soft.
“He’s a good man, Di”
That got my mouth moving a bit too quickly, as I snapped back “He fucking better be!”
“Never thought of you as a mother hen, Di… oh. Not you as well?”
“What? Oh. No, not yet, but we, well…”
I couldn’t help it, and I started sobbing. So much of other people’s shit had passed me by, starting with my own parents’ pain, and with Blake’s own tears the night before, I was out of strength. No police, professional mantra was helping just then. I wrestled the sobs halfway to death, then grabbed my handbag for tissues.
Elaine looked shocked, and there was real concern in her voice.
“Talk to me, Di? Blake?”
Oh yes, Blake, in so many ways, but not as she seemed to be hinting. I tried to straighten her out, which thought set me coughing and hiccupping.
“Oh, Lainey, yes, and no, and all sorts of shit, yeah, and it’s not him, but…”
Tea. Displacement activity. It was cool enough at last to drink, which seemed to stop my hiccups. This time, I just let the words come as they needed to.
“No, it’s not Blake in one way, Lainey, but it is, and what it is, yeah, is the difference. Evans ruined me, you know? I mean, he took everything I am, every bit of brightness, and he pissed on it, just like he pissed on me, and it’s, it’s sex and love, and trying to take the sex bit part from the rape bit and it’s not working, and then Blake says, well, not important really, is it, and he just waits, and it’s so different and, shit, it’s like… it’s like when we finally get together, and he’s so gentle, and it’s like washing the piss off me all over again. Remember that first lad we saw? The one who’d almost scrubbed his skin off? That was me. I…”
I lost it again for a few seconds, but she was as patient as ever.
“It’s breaking the association, Lainey. It’s washing that bastard out of my dreams in a sort of shower of Blake and…”
Did I just say what I had? Oh shit!
“No, not like that! Bollocks, you know what I meant!!”
Once again, she understood immediately.
“He’s brought you home, love”
“That’s it! Abso bloody lutely! I mean, after all, I should know, of all people I should bloody know what rape is really about, but things look different from the inside of it. I didn’t realise, didn’t really know, how much he had fucked me up, not until he went down. It doesn’t go away, Lainey, and, well, Blake. Just Blake, yeah?”
She nodded, and once more I could speak sensibly. My thoughts of Annie from the night were clear, even when hazed over with the other memories of our ‘practice’.
“Then, there we are, in the caff, watching Ad—Annie, and that man walks in, and I see the same in her as I know is in me, the cold beer, the lifeline, yeah? She’s a bloody lucky woman, and she’s a woman full stop. Lainey?”
“Aye?”
“You did right to let us know, me and my Blake. I mean, I know what shit she went through, but the smile on her face said all I needed to know, and it was just like the two of us”
More tea. Time to sum up, even without a jury, and that was Elaine’s way. She didn’t judge in words, but she had morals, a moral code, that was entirely concerned with doing the right thing. Get it right, DC Owens. Sutton.
“I mean, you can’t get rid of your past, but you can stop letting it run your ‘now’, innit? Just, helps to have the right man or woman along to keep your head clear”
Back to my tea.
“Anyway, whatever, as they say. You’ve guessed what Blake and me have decided, and I will tell you one thing, if we get there, no bloody godmother rubbish, you are getting aunty duty, you and your missus”
There was a real twitch to her, just then, and I had a flash of intuition, remembering that woman in the court with her, clearly pregnant, and how her face went whenever she spoke about her sister and nephew. I kicked myself mentally. She was just like Blake, seeing families all round and watching them from outside. So easy to see her as the hard case Inspector and forget the woman. What the hell had I been crying for, when I had it all now? I felt like an idiot, so I dragged out my phone to change a dangerous subject.
“Sod all that stupidity, Lainey. We got some pics, and this is my favourite. It’s when he walked in, and just stood there while her whole bloody family stared at him. This pic is the moment she saw him”
Sunlight through clouds, laughter after pain. Sheer, simple delight in another human being’s presence, their love. Elaine sat and looked at it for an age, smiling again, and I made the joke.
“You trained us well, Inspector Baggins! Sneaksy!”
I sorted the other pictures for her, and at her request sent them to her own phone.
“Thanks, Di. Really. Any time you need help, if, aye? Aunty Elaine? Already am, with my family…”
I left her after a little while, making my way back along the motorway to Cardiff, for once feeling absolutely futile. I could see what she wanted, what she needed, but it was a problem I had no answer for.
Those thoughts went onto the back-burner after I got into the office and Jon handed me the latest files on Mersey View. I might not be able to help Elaine, but I was going to do my best for Deb.
CHAPTER 5
Once more, the pattern of my days was set by lists, names and club numbers, as we called criminal records. As with one nightmare of a prison visit, the pattern of offending seemed to be clear, just--- thankfully--- nowhere near as extreme. It fell into particular areas of social failure, and they all clung to the coat tails of self-destruction and lack of any sense of self-worth. Addictions of various kinds, steady theft and criminal damage habits seeming to be as much of a compulsion as drugs or alcohol.
Jon and I visited a number of addresses throughout the wider Mersey and North Wales areas, and I was reminded more than once of Paula. So many of the people we spoke to not only seemed to have hated the people at Mersey View, but now actively appeared to hate themselves. There were others, of course, but they were no longer able to give interviews as they had managed to finish what Mersey View had started.
Each one brought home to me how lucky I really was, how lucky even Charlie, Tiff and Paula were, and I resolved to find out where the Petries were buried and leave some flowers for them. They were my anchor point throughout; as the despair took me, and my soul wilted at each new piece of wreckage, I thought of two people who would have been condemned as pikies, tinkers, gypsies, held in contempt by ‘decent’ folk, and despite that had made such a difference for the good.
With the aid of my fresh meat, I finally had a bundle of files ready for Sammy to vet, consider and pass to the relevant forces for their own consideration. One of the problems of being a resource to the wider police community was demarcation, and while they were happy to let us do the leg work, it appeared that some of the forces were a little jealous of their turf, wanting any prosecutions that might be seen as publicity magnets drawing the acclaim directly to their own brass.
I couldn’t have given a shit about that, as I had almost had enough of the stories in too many witness statements and more than a few coroner’s reports. Time to speak to one more witness, I decided.
“Sammy?”
“Yes, Di?”
“I think we’re just about done with this part of things, so I have a request”
“I’ve already spoken to the Super, girl”
“Pardon?”
“You want a trip to Carlisle, don’t you?”
I considered that, and I realised he was wrong.
“Not really, but I think it’s got to be done. What I would really like would be to take Deb Wells up with me, let her have a look at him. I am guessing he is not going to be looking like much of a threat”
“Give her that, what’s her word? Requital?”
I nodded. “Absolutely. Not really allowed, though, is it?”
He thought for a second, then grinned.
“I think I can see one way. Let me speak to Williams, see what he can weasel out of the Cumbrian boys and HMPS. They might be a bit cute, if you do it in the prison, but if we can persuade them to go for a decent nick for the interview, I have an idea”
“Interview?”
“Oh come on, girl, you’ve dyed your hair back now, so don’t play blonde with me. Candice has that one covered! You telling me you just want to look at him? Not go full Clarice?”
Of course, he followed that up with a tooth-sucking impersonation of Dr Lecter, and while I laughed dutifully, I had a flashback to that day in Long Lartin.
I grimaced, and he just shrugged. “No sense of humour, these brunettes. I’ll have a word with Williams, as I said, but you have a chat with Ms Wells and make sure she actually wants the opportunity”
“Fair point. I was going to stop by there tomorrow, anyway. It’s their liaison officer’s regular visit”
“Let me know what she says, then. No Blake with you?”
“He’s still digging in that case out to Newport. Got a home visit and interview that evening”
Well, let me have the SP as soon as you can. Now let me get back to this pile of shite, and if you don’t mind…”
I took the hint and left him a cuppa, before wrapping everything up and heading off for Deb’s place, texting her as I walked to my car. There was no response, so I settled myself in a corner of the usual café to await her response. I had just settled down with the triple Sudoku in the Metro, as had nothing else to absorb me, when the door opened, and two young women walked in.
Charlie and Tiff walked in. They were smiling and joking with each other, seemingly relaxed at being out without a guardian, but Charlie’s eyes were still restless, scanning the whole café till they found me. They widened, and her face almost split with a grin, and she nudged Tiff, whose reaction was just as happy.
Tiff nudged her friend, handing her some cash, which was waved away, before coming over to my table for a hug.
“Hiya, Di! You coming round to the house?”
“I am. I sent Deb a text, but she’s not come back to me”
“Oh, she’ll be driving, then. Got a call yesterday, girl up in Brecon having a bad time. She’s off to fetch her. You worried she was OK?”
“Yeah, sort of. Goes with our lives, yeah? What are you two up to?”
“College!”
Charlie came over with a tray, two cokes, a tea and three toasted sandwiches on it.
“Got you ham and cheese, Di, if that’s OK?”
I let her put the tray down before I stood for a hug, which was warm indeed.
“Nana’s out; did Tiff say? She’ll be back before Paul comes round, though”
“So Tiff tells me. She also tells me you two have just been to college”
Charlie nodded, smile shrinking.
“Yeah, we have. Not just ‘been’ but ‘are going’ to college now, isn’t it?”
“You feel OK out like this?”
Her trademark sniff was there.
“Well, Kim’s managed, and Gem’s doing well, so why not? It’s a big thing, Di: they are gone, banged away. Nobody to fear now”
Tiff looked up, shaking her head.
“Not true, Charlie, not really. Just those ones, innit? Di, it’s not really something we can keep doing, hiding away. You showed us that, and Paula, yeah? She’ll be round tonight, just so you know”
I looked her in the eyes, and there was nervousness there, but resolution behind it.
“So you two decided to get a life at last, then?”
A sniff, naturally.
“Yeah, and why not? All those turds locked away, why should we be the same? Tiff’s got herself on a hairdressers’ course, and doing GCSE recap stuff”
“And you, Charlie?”
“Doing my GCSEs as well”
“that all?”
“Um, doing social studies also. Thought I might be able to, well, do a bit of care stuff, social work, like”
“What brought that on?”
She tilted her head to one side, looking at me as she considered her answer.
“Di, I know what I’d like to do, yeah, and it’s your work, but that’s not what I’d be good at. I just need to find a way to give stuff back, to do what you do that isn’t work, yeah? Make a difference, make things better. Then there’s Paula, and she’s been more fucked up than either of us, so if she can make a life, get it moving, why not us?”
“Paula? What’s she doing?”
“Apart from going all silly round our pet copper? She’s doing catch-up at college as well. She’s not stupid, Di, not a thicko, isn’t it? Anyway, finish that and we’ll get home. Late meal tonight, and Tiff and me’s got cooking duty”
We walked over to the house, and as we turned the corner into the back alley I saw the ‘Tranny van’ parked up, the side door open onto the load space and Deb pulling out a couple of bags. With her was a girl of about fifteen, and once again I had to force back my automatic filter of ‘boy in a dress’. Deb spotted us, grinned and turned to the girl.
“Clara, these are some of your new friends, Tiff, Charlie and Diane. Tiff, want to take Clara in and get her settled? I’m putting her in with Imogen for now”
“No problem, Nana”
Once they were gone, Deb turned to me with a frown.
“Another one picked up by a chaser, di. Didn’t want to say that in front of Tiff. Charlie, love, could you do the kettle? I’m fair syched”
The two of us waited by the van till she was gone, and then Deb gave me the raised eyebrow treatment.
“And tonight’s starter for ten is…?”
“Got a proposal, girl. I’ll leave it till after, if you don’t mind. I want a clear head to see what Paula’s up to. And Charlie and Tiff out on their own now?”
“Aye! They’re really coming out of their shells now, what with the threats gone, they’re feeling easier, but I still have to set boundaries. They’re not stupid, though, neither of them”
“I know that very well, and I also know they’ve got heart and soul. I’d be happy to do some coaching if they want or need it”
“Thanks, Di. They’d appreciate that. Now, you stopping for a meal?”
“Well they said they were cooking tonight, so will it be safe?”
That broke her serious mood, and after a bark of laughter she hugged me.
“Cheeky lying sods! Gemma prepared it yesterday; they just have to divvy it up and whack it into the microwave. Only cooking they are doing is boiling potatoes and carrots. Come on; have a cuppa, see what the new girl needs, and we’ll talk later”
“Sounds good to me”
We went straight through the airlock this time, through the connecting door and into the main room, where a group of girls was waiting for us, Tiff not included. Charlie called from the kitchen, “Spuds and carrots cooking, Tiff will be down with Clara in five. She just wanted a wash”
I settled onto a dining chair as another girl brought Deb and me some tea, and just as Clara came downstairs again, the doorbell rang. Deb turned to our new friend.
“Clara, that will be our liaison officer PC Welby. He is a good man, a real friend to us. You do not have to be here for this; if you’d prefer, you can wait in your room till he’s gone. We could bring your tea up there if you prefer”
Clara’s voice was a light tenor, not quite a contralto.
“You say he’s one of the good ones?”
“Yes. Absolutely. But he is a bloke”
“Can I stay and see how it goes, then?”
“Of course, love. I’ll just go and get him”
She was off to the airlock again, and a few minutes later returned with Paul and a rather neater-looking Paula. I smiled and waved, and with a hint of a blush she waved back. There was a little bit of strained small talk before Charlie called for help, and the meal was dished out to us all. Deb made the introductions round the table, clearly for Clara’s benefit, and then conversation flagged as we worked our separate ways through a very nice beef stew and vegetables. I caught Paula’s eye as her plate was emptied.
“How are you doing, mate?”
Once more, she looked embarrassed.
“Not too bad, Di. Got the clinic cutting my dose down steadily, and that’s hard. Get a few shakes, night sweats, crap like that. Appetite’s being a cow a lot. Nice to get something so tasty; lets me eat more easily. Usually, it all tastes like bloody cardboard”
She looked down at her plate.
“And yes, me and him, we’re taking it steady. Not easy, given, you know. Where my head was at for all those years”
Deb called over to Clara.
“See what we have here, love? People who’ve stopped being victims, that are taking back control. You want in on that?”
The first real smile I had yet seen from Clara was followed by a simple declaration.
“I think I do, Deb!”
There was a small round of applause, and she was hugged by each of the other girls, and as they said hello to her properly, Deb simply took my hand and drew me back through to the airlock.
“That’s them settled now, so we have a few minutes. What’s on your mind, girl?”
“I have a possible offer to you, Deb. My boss needs to confirm it upstairs first, but if we can I’d like to come along with me to an interview. I think I know what Sammy is trying to get for us, and it would mean you watching the thing by video link. You be up for that?”
She stared at me, expression totally unreadable.
“This interview, Di. Would it by any chance be in Carlisle?”
“yes. You wouldn’t be allowed to hear it, but it would be an opportunity for you to see the suspect. If we go to trial, your evidence has to be untainted, but I thought that seeing him as he is now might lay some old ghosts”
“You are talking about Charlie Cooper, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I might have one other with me”
It wasn’t that far from Southport to Carlisle, and if Sammy could manage to arrange the right place to do the interview, I could surely add a little bit of requital.
CHAPTER 6
I was called into the Super’s office two weeks later, and as I had expected Bev had Sedgewick and Weir with him. There was the usual ritual of greeting and coffee before I was asked to deliver my updates.
“Rather a lot of the former residents are no longer with us, gents. Ion and I have managed to speak to nine survivors, and I am sorry to say that six of them are not willing to cooperate”
I shook my head, and sipped some coffee.
“Sorry, but that came out wrong. What I mean is that we have six people who do not wish, or perhaps couldn’t cope is a better way of putting it. Couldn’t cope with having it all raked up again”
Bev nodded.
“I thought that might happen. They do realise that if we go ahead it will still come out in the press”
“Absolutely. One of them actually put it quite well. ‘I’ll get to see it in the papers, get to see he’s gone down, and the wife won’t need to know why I’m crying’. That was his point, sir: as long as he knows it’s done, he’ll be happy, but he can’t face the man himself”
“Who have you got, then?”
“Deb Wells, of course, plus a damaged old man in Southport, Benjamin Nicol-Clements. And Arthur Henry Bowles”
Weir muttered “Jesus Christ” and Sedgewick winced as Bev nodded.
“Was he at all after a deal of some kind, Di? Bowles?”
Once more, I considered my answer carefully, and understood how unfounded Bev’s suspicions were.
“No, sir. I don’t believe that was at all what he wanted. To be honest, he ended up in tears with the memories. He seems quite resigned to the fact that he will never come out of prison, and I have absolutely no issues with that”
Sedgwick looked up again.
“How did you find him, Di?”
“Bloody frightening, Mr Sedgewick, and I got the impression he terrifies the screws. If we can lay Charles Cooper’s ghost to rest, they might have an easier time with him”
Bev smiled at that.
“Gentlemen, DC Owens has ever been one for the bigger picture. Di, we know about Ms Wells, of course”
“Harry---er, Bowles, that is, he knew her when she was in Mersey View. I used an appropriate pronoun for her, and he picked up on it straight away”
“You neither confirmed nor denied, as the Yanks say?”
“Exactly, sir”
“Indeed. Southport?”
“Benjamin Nicol-Clements. Convicted sex offender, gross indecency with a boy of fourteen when he was only nineteen himself. His husband made some remarks about the conviction being unsafe, and I have had a dig through what records there are”
My boss fixed me with a very, very flat stare, completely devoid of tells.
“I know that look, DC Owens. What did you find?”
I couldn’t help it, and my lip curled.
“Pardon my French, sir, but was it open fucking season or something on gay men, back then?”
His own mouth twisted.
“I am afraid it was very much like that in some places, Diane. It was only decriminalised in 1967, after all. Attitudes sometimes change before laws, but not in this case. I note from what you say that both persons involved were below the age of consent at the time as well, so your suspicions may well be absolutely on the mark”
“He was nineteen, sir”
“The age of consent was twenty-one for gay men back then”
Ye gods, that was half of the Smugglers’ clientele under age! Bev asked the obvious question.
“Would this be a case for your team, Diane?”
“Honestly? I don’t know, sir. I suspect not, and if it turns out that Ben was actually guilty, what does it achieve? I am more interested in offering him the same opportunity I would like to give Deb Wells, and a chance to see their nightmare as a wreck rather than a bogeyman”
He nodded.
“Liam, this is what we are asking for. If it proceeds to an actual trial, we need to be sure that there is no perception that we have spoon-fed any witnesses. We all know that, but what Diane is asking for is that two of them get to see Cooper, but not hear what he says. That is right, Diane? You do not propose to take Arthur henry Bowles along with you?”
“No, sir. I suspect that would not only be impractical but extremely risky for all concerned”
“Thank god for that. Liam, would Diane’s proposal be acceptable, or, indeed, possible?”
The young inspector sat nursing his cup for a few seconds, then nodded.
“Yes. I do believe so. We have a decent interview suite at the Divisional HQ, set up with a full video facility. There is a monitor room with more than enough space, as well”
He grinned. “Not just a place for Custody to keep an eye on drunks. After…”
As quickly as it had arrived, his grin vanished, and he shrugged.
“After that other place. Interviews for that would have been far more easily done with some audio-visual kit rather than just the old system. They were still writing it down back then, believe it or not. So what we have isn’t exactly state of the art, but it has cameras and monitors. Diane?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Mr Williams has been busy on your behalf. Let us know when you ant to play this, and we will accommodate you. The only issue is where we deliver the results”
They settled into a discussion about demarcation, a genteel turf war in effect, but as I saw it the case was down to Cheshire as that was where the offences in question had taken place. Use Weir’s facilities, get Sedgewick’s lot to pay for the prosecution and take the kudos for ourselves. I was turning into another bloody Elaine, I realised, with just as much management bullshit bingo coming out of me. What was that term Adam used to use? Arsebollocks, that was it.
Annie, not Adam. As I made my way back to the team room, I wondered how she could cope. I was looking to let Benny and Deb see what their tormenter had become, hopefully broken, and what could anyone do for Annie? Her hell came from events, not people that could be put on trial.
I still found a smile, though, remembering the open joy on her face as she saw her man, that Eric, and my smile turned into chuckles as I imagined doing a Candice on him: hurt her, and I’ll kill you.
I called Jon over to join me with Sammy, and ran through the plan with them. Jon raised his hand..
“Please tell me you’re not talking about Bowles!”
“No, mate”
“Thank god for that”
“But I will be putting his evidence to Cooper, so if it goes to a contested trial, he’ll have to come out for the day. It is actually tempting, yeah? Leave them both in a room to talk about the good old days”
Both of them laughed out loud, although Jon’s sounded a little forced to my ears. Sammy held up a finger.
“One thing, Owens, one thing you’ve forgotten…”
He tailed off, grinning in that feral way once more.
“You haven’t, have you?”
I put on my most innocent expression.
“Are you suggesting I am plotting, Mister Inspector Patel, sir?”
“Jonny boy, what are we talking about?”
“Um, don’t know”
“What is the remedy for negligence?”
“Depends whether it’s tort or criminal---”
“No, son. Not the penalty, the remedy”
Slowly, Jon's smile came out as he cottoned onto what Sammy was asking.
“You are a devious cow, Diane Owens!”
“Who, me? It was all in that file you didn’t finish, Jonny boy. Apparently, Sammy, the family that broke Castle Keep, their boy who was in there, they knew the right sort of people and went for damages, compensation, all that shit. Did quite nicely out of it, which of course doesn’t change the hell he lived through, but, well, Deb’s place can always do with some extra funding. Cheshire’s loss, our gain”
Jon looked straight at Sammy.
“Has she always been like this?”
Sammy’s grin shifted from feral to cheeky.
“And would you have her any other way, mate?”
I settled down after our meetings with an assurance of a budget for travel and accommodation, spending the rest of the day with the timeline programme so that I could show at a glance where and when all of my identified victims had been during Copper and Hamilton’s reign at Mersey View, So much damage, so many victims, and clearly it was an iceberg. Not only had I not managed to find, or even identify, every victim at Mersey View but I knew there were so many other places that had been just as bad or, as that other file demonstrated, even worse.
My mood got an unexpected lift just as I was about to close everything down for the day when my instant messenger icon began flashing: Paul Welby.
Got a minute?
I rattled back a quick ‘yes’.
Got something to run past you Di
Go ahead mate
First chapter from Paula
My in-box showed a new mail, with an attachment. I sent back, Paula’s book?
Yes. You mind?
Not at all. OK send home to read?
Not a problem. Got to rush. Ta, Di
I forwarded the mail, smiling to myself. It seemed people could indeed heal. I knew the two of them were on dodgy ground, given their professional relationship, but then all of her relationships had been strictly professional for years, by definition.
He sent one last message.
Smugglers Friday?
My answer summed up what I thought.
Why the hell not?
I looked around the office, everyone there but Blake and Lexie, and I knew full well what my husband would say in response to my call to the team.
“Mates! Pub on Friday?”
To my surprise, but by no means entirely, Rhys looked at Jon before answering, and only gave his shout of “I’m in!” after getting a nod from my fresh meat.
And Jon called ME devious!
I took my laptop to bed with me that night, and cuddled up with Blake as we read Paula’s first chapter. I had tried to get into it as I waited for tea to brew, but I had come to a very abrupt stop as she began her description of a dark street, a big car, and a big man.
No. Not on my own, not without him to hold me and remind me how very, very lucky I really was.
CHAPTER 7
That first chapter was painful to read, but it had a style that drew both of us in; either Paula had real talent or she was being helped by someone else who did. The more I read, however, the more I heard her voice speaking the words. The structure was another thing, where she introduced herself in a short descriptive passage about looking for trade on a miserable February evening in a shitty part of Cardiff, before cutting to a typical school day, and then…
I don’t know why it hurt so much to read it, as I had sat in the public gallery as she gave her evidence and told exactly the same awful tale, but somehow, there in electronic print, it was brutal. Several times I had to push the computer away so I could take a breather, but finally Blake and I were done. He closed the laptop and placed it on the bedside cabinet, drawing me closer to him as Fritz took the opportunity to move onto his lap, rumbling away.
Blake reached out absently to ruffle his fur.
“That is bloody well-written, love”
“Just what I was thinking. It’s her voice, though. If she keeps on like that, she could have a seriously good book there”
“Would you buy it?”
I didn’t have to think about my answer.
“Yes, we owe her that much, but I don’t know if I could read it”
He sighed, long and deep in his chest.
“That’s the thing with you, love. I can’t really say ‘I know what you mean’ because I don’t. I can get an idea, aye? I can get the general flow of things, understand it intellectually, but I can’t feel it”
“What can you feel, love?”
“Anger. Hatred. Guilt, in a way”
“Why guilt?”
“Men, isn’t it? Sort of vicarious thing. Men did all that shit, I am a man, so on. Before you say it, I know it’s not my fault, nor Rob’s, Sammy’s, whoever. I know that; it’s just that I can’t help what I feel”
I could have resorted to all sorts of profound arguments, but I settled for pushing the cat off the bed and pulling Blake closer to me. There are traditional ways to cheer a couple up, and so that was what we did. Rot in jail, Ashley Aaron Evans.
Friday came at last, and after we had secured the office the team made its way to a curry house before hitting the Smugglers’ and the Elaine Powell bar. I had wondered how long that name would last, as the euphoria from the trial fell off, but there seemed to be no plans for a change, and the pub’s website now listed it as available for functions under that name. She wasn’t with us, of course, which left Marlene in his usual state of theatrical and bitchy anger, with the real person showing behind the drag as genuine disappointment.
Ellen was chirpy, and sitting rather close to Rob, which confirmed suspicions I had been harbouring almost since the team started, but I was more interested in watching Jon and Rhys. Candice was first to hit the target.
“You two stopped pissing about, then?”
Rhys looked over the little table he was using, Jon sat opposite him rather than to one side.
“What you on about, Blondie?”
“Blondie? At least mine is natural, not out of a bottle, like some tart we all know. Oh, hi, Diane! Didn’t see you sitting there”
I tried not to inhale my drink.
“Candice, you just walked with me from the nick, ate a full meal in the Taj sitting next to me, walked to this pub with me and came with me to that bloody bar to get the first round in!”
“Yeah, but I’m blonde, isn’t it? Attention span of a goldfish. Oh, sorry, Di! Didn’t see you sitting there”
She let the laughter die down, then turned back to Rhys.
“That one there, and the big sod, they couldn’t keep it on the QT, so why the fuck do you two think you can? Even Ellen there, I mean, she’s been hiding Rob’s sausage since Day 1. That not right, Ellen?”
The older woman shrugged.
“My Mam told me not to speak with my mouth full”
Candice’s jaw dropped, and she rose to her feet as she applauded Ellen.
“Bloody hell, girl, touché! Outdone me for once, isn’t it? Obviously, I have been successfully leading by bad example. So, back to the subject: Jonny boy, you are allowed to sit next to him now! We all know, isn’t it? Lexie, budge over so they can cwtch”
Jon was blushing like a stop sign, but grinning with it, and as Lexie stood he swapped seats with her and took Rhys’ hand. That man glowered at Candice, but a grin to match Jon’s broke through his frown.
“You are an utter and complete cow, Warren!”
“Yeah, but you love me really! Oh”
She was looking past Rhys to the entrance, and I followed her gaze to see two people I was finding myself calling the Sedakas: Paul Welby and Paula Cairns. I must have said the nickname out loud, because Ellen smilingly informed me that I was completely wrong.
“Nothing to do with Sedaka, girl. Anyway, he’s Neil, not Paul”
“Well, what would I know about antique music? I’m younger than you”
“Ooh, you cow! I will have to keep you and Blondie there apart! Anyway, what are they doing here?”
“Ah, I think Paul’s looking for a bit of advice. He sent us a sample a few days ago”
“Of?”
“Let’s see what they say, yeah? You sure it’s Neil, not Paul?”
“Absolutely. Mam’s a big fan”
“That’s me shown up, then. You and Rob?”
She grinned. “Regular little marriage bureau, aren’t we? No, I wasn’t meaning that the way It came out, but we get on OK, and the kids are great with me, so who knows? Anyway, Hey Hey Paul is on his way over”
I found a couple of stools for the new arrivals, and made the introductions.
“Mates, for those of you who don’t know, or who are blonde, this is Paul Welby, a Community Liaison Officer I’ve been working with, and you’ll remember Paula Cairns, who gave us a hand with the final Evans trial”
She looked hard at me, and I gave her a slight nod. No longer just a victim, but a participant in seeing justice done. I turned back to Paul.
“We read what you sent over, mate. Good stuff”
Blake squeezed my thigh.
“Powerful is what she means. No shame in saying she had to take it in stages. Is that what you wanted a chat about?”
She nodded, then took a mouthful of her coke, clearly to create thinking space.
“Sort of. Thanks for the compliment”
I reached out for her hand, knowing how much a gesture like that could mean to someone with her past.
“Not at all, mate. The writing’s quality stuff, aye? We could hear your voice in it. You want to explain to the rest rather than me get it wrong?”
She took another mouthful.
“I really want something harder, isn’t it? Just, well, still getting it all together. Thanks for coming out, though. What it is, people, is that I am writing a book. Autobiography, that is. It’s mostly me doing it, but Paul here’s keeping the facts straight, and Deb’s good with the words. She writes short stories and that, says she’s done it all her life. Not my sort of thing, but she’s got ideas about pacing, what she calls story arcs and that”
Blake took over as she faltered.
“Paula sent us the first chapter as a draft. Gripping stuff, real punch in the guts to read, aye?”
Another mouthful of coke.
“Yeah, that was Deb. ‘Set the scene’, she says, ‘then drag them in with a hook’. I think it works well”
I was still holding her hand, so I squeezed it once more.
“It knocked me sideways, girl. I had to read it in little bits, couldn’t handle it in one go. You do a whole book like that, you’ll make a real impact”
“Would you read it?”
I thought back to that night with the laptop.
“Honest answer? No. Not that I wouldn’t read it, more that I don’t know if I could. I hope you can understand why”
“Yes. For me, it’s like a purge, getting them all out of my system”
Candice was serious for once.
“I would read it, Paula. I think we all would. What do you need from us?”
Paul looked up.
“We’ve already got most of that from you all. You started that off by not only believing this woman, but treating her as a human being rather than a commodity”
Paula went to speak, and he put a finger to her lips.
“No, not that. Not just someone who sold herself on the street, not that sort of commodity thing. I’ve seen more than a few trials; goes with the job, doesn’t it? Anyway, all too often the investigators, and the bloody CPS, they see a witness as a file, to be brought out, used and binned once it’s all over. You lot haven’t done that. You lot aren’t doing that. So take our thanks”
People shuffled in their seats, some clearly uncomfortable with open praise, and Paul smiled on seeing it.
“Not easy being thanked, is it? Anyway, situation so far. Working title of Paula’s book is ‘Tom’, simple as that. We considered ‘Whore’ but, well, that’s a bit too brutal for her. Deb’s handling the fine-tuning on the prose, and Kimberley’s fella has a contact with the Guardian, and they’ve got form for serialising stuff like this. We do not want to go down the tabloid route, no way! So, Deb’s editing, Kim’s publicity, me to keep the timeline straight, and do the technical copper stuff. That is where you come in”
Paula moved his hand away from her mouth.
“Yeah, exactly. What the book is about is that arc thing Deb showed me. We show what that bastard did to me, compare it with my school days, then show where it left me. The game, the drugs, everything. Finish off with the trial, or rather with getting straight, yeah? What I want to do, getting to the point, is put you all in it. Nell and Jazz have said they’ll do it, and I think you can guess what Charlie’s response was. She wants to do her own book, by the way. So the question is just that: will you be happy to be named, described, quoted and so on? Prior approval, of course”
Candice rose, walked over to her, and hugged her warmly, before looking round at the rest of us.
“Those of us who did the interviews know how brave this woman is, so count me in. The rest of you?”
No dissent at all. Candice had a tissue for Paula.
In the end, the two didn’t stay that long, I suspect because Paula’s withdrawal was becoming painful, but then the rest of us weren’t far behind. It was an evening of cards on the table, four of our team going sort-of-public about their relationships, and I thought back to Sammy’s assumption that I would want to stay with the team when it became a permanent post. How could anyone not want to be a part of it?
Blake and I spent the weekend at the old house, having a day out with my parents walking in the Wye Valley and another decent family dinner on the Sunday, every minute helping to push away the stain of that man on me. He had really brought us together, though, all of the women he had wounded. Light from darkness.
Monday morning saw me back in work, to find an e-mail from Inspector Weir. I rang Ben Nicol-Clements that afternoon, and then logged onto our official travel site to book trains and a hotel for Jon and myself. Finally, I rang Deb.
“What are you doing next month, girl? Jon and I will be in Carlisle for a couple of days”
CHAPTER 8
Jon and I took more than five hours to get to Carlisle, the journey including a change at Crewe. I had heard that name so many times, including in music-hall songs, and I was expecting something a little better than what we found. A mix of old train carriages sparked some interest as we came in, but the reality was simply a large warehouse affair with a lot of glass in the upper parts. It was well-kept, the correct spot to wait for our reserved places was marked on the platform and there were places to grab a snack, but we had to wait over thirty minutes before our connection, and it dragged. There were a large number of bricks in the wall the other side of the tracks, and I am sure I counted them all.
Eventually, the Virgin train pulled in, and we forced our bags into the luggage rack and settled down for the next leg. We had run out of conversation somewhere between Cardiff and the Upper Crust sandwich place, so I simply plugged my MP3 player ‘s ear buds in and switched on my e-reader. Twenty minutes later, I turned the latter off and closed my eyes. I was getting sick of trains. My dozing brain knew we would be passing Runcorn, but I couldn’t care less.
Jon nudged me awake some time later, and I realised I had been drooling.
“Wossup?”
“Bit more interesting outside now, Di. Think we must be near the Lake District or something”
He must have been right, because the dreary industrial towns that had sent me to dribbly sleep had been replaced by heather and bracken, and it was definitely worth waking for. I spotted a motorway split into two levels. High hills surrounded us, reminding me of times in Snowdonia camping with Dad, and my spirits lifted steadily with the land. It eased after a while, and we came into Penrith, the Pennines lowering over it from the East. It was odd how I felt the Cumbrian hills to be a welcome embrace, almost a hug, while those to the East offered nothing bit a forbidding and bleak wall,
“Di?”
“Yes, mate?”
“According to my GPS there’s a River Eden over there”
“And?”
“That is apparently the one Hamilton went swimming in”
How to destroy the beginnings of a good mood.
“Jonny boy, there’s a catering place, bar, whatever, two cars back. Could you grab me a cold drink? That sandwich, and dozing, yeah? Mouth like god knows what”
While he did the drink run, I sent Deb a text.
Just come Penrith. Staying Ibis
She replied almost immediately.
At Crewe. Bored. Am in Ibis 2. C U there
I sent another message to our Southport victim, but got no immediate reply, so I simply sent another with the time and place of our meeting with Cumbria. I was starting to get nervous by then; thanks, Lon.
It was only a short walk from the station to our hotel, but it was, of course, raining, so after we had checked in I grabbed a shower to wake myself properly and dispose of the grime I always imagined settled on me when travelling by train. I knew it wasn’t real dirt, but I found the whole process draining and, to be honest, I was anticipating being soiled the following day. One interview I would never, ever be in the right frame of mind for.
Jon knocked on my door two hours later, a smiling Deb with him, and she was straight to the point.
“Not going on the piss tonight, is it, but my stomach thinks my throat’s been cut. Food?”
“You not get something on the way?”
“Those prices? Anyway, don’t want to eat that crap. Got refined tastes, me, or I have after earing Gemma’s offerings. There’s a ‘Spoon’s up the road, a couple of Indians and an Italian. Don’t know about you, but I fancy a pizza”
I raised an eyebrow at Jon, making the point that we had done curries to death recently, and he grinned.
“Less farting in the interview tomorrow, then? Pizza will do me fine.”
It was a small place, not that far down the road, and I was just settling down to browse the menu when my phone bleeped for an incoming message.
Peter and I are in Hallmark. Meal? BNC
I sent back our location, and after confirming they were on their way, got the waiter to push another table next to ours. Despite our resolution to stay sober, I still had a large glass of Barolo from the bottle we were now sharing. Peter and Ben were there in just over fifteen minutes, and I made sure I gave them my warmest smile.
“Good to see you both, gentlemen, but I am beginning to hate trains”
Ben took his husband’s hand.
“We, or rather Peter here, drove up. I have had more than a few unpleasant incidents when using public transport, so we try to avoid it. It is delightful to see you both again, too. And your companion? We are Peter and Ben Nicol-Clements”
I looked over to Deb, and saw she was trembling. Idiot that I was. Before I could apologise, she reached out to me, squeezing my hand.
“Yes, love, I know. You should have given me more warning, but that is so you. It’s amusing in a way: you are so, so good at spotting odd little connections, but you sometimes miss the big ones”
She looked across at Jon, drawing a shuddering breath.
“This wasn’t planned, you two, or at least not intentionally, but I think you have done something I have needed to do for years”
She turned her head to smile at the other victim.
“It’s been such a long time, Benny. How are you? Well, I hope?”
He looked puzzled. “We have met?”
“Yes, love. I am Deb. I was Billy. Billy Wells”
Ben’s mouth didn’t seem to work for a while, Peter looking more and more worried, before he could find the words, and with them came slow tears. He waved vaguely at Deb, particularly towards her hair and bosom.
“You made it them, my darling? Oh dear god… Peter… Peter, a bottle, please? Is the Barolo a good one, Diane? No. Don’t answer. Please, Peter”
The waiter saw, and once glasses were filled, Ben, now far more in control of himself, raised his glass to Deb.
“To success, my love. To freedom. To finally burying our demons”
We drank the toast, and then he and Deb rose and hugged. Ben sat down again, wiping away the last of his tears.
“Peter, my love, Billy---Deb here, was another of those sent to that place I mentioned. I do not mean to open old scars again, but all I will say is that while she was… while those who ran the place were rather taken with her, she was never beaten, never lost her spirit. Please, Deb, please tell”
The older woman took his hand. “I could tell it all, love, but it would take all night, and if this goes to trial, you will hear it all anyway. Let me just sum up, OK?”
“Please”
“I got as far as Shrewsbury the last time, and I found somewhere to shelter, a place I could scavenge food”
I felt my anger rising again. Out od bloody dustbins.
“I was injured, as you will remember. I was found. They were good people. I… well, as you can see. I moved my life on, and I now help other young people who need somewhere to escape to. In the process, again as you can see, I have met other good people, and two of the best sit with me, and they will sit with that bastard tomorrow. Now, enough. We have a meal to order, and Jonny boy here needs to tell all about his new best friend. Hello? I do believe we are ready now!”
Aubergines with parmesan, insalata Romana, a couple of bowls of olives and crostini were followed, in my case, by a calzone Vesuvio and a mixed side salad. I had decided that I wasn’t going to worry about farting in front of Cooper.
The conversation was kept well away from Mersey View, but there were still more tears from Ben, as well as a few from Deb, and I noticed Jon frowning slightly as he returned from a visit to the gents’.
“Problem, mate?”
“Could be. Family in the corner there; the bloke asked me if I could get the two old poofs to stop holding hands in front of their kids”
“Oh for fuck’s sake! Think it’ll be an issue?”
“I don’t think so. I may just have shown them my warrant, explained the law and asked if they would really like me to ruin their evening, and most especially in front of their kids, as a positive inclusion lesson appeared to be desirable for the little cherubs. Ah”
“What?”
He waved. “Just pissing off now, Di”
“Any trouble with the management, you think?”
He grinned.
“What, here? When the waiter’s just slipped me a bit of paper with his number on?”
That lifted our mood, and the catch-up between two victims moved from commiseration to celebration. I found Peter Nicol-Clements watching me closely, and as the conversation paused, he held up a hand.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Please. A moment. Ben and I have endured more than a few unpleasantnesses, and I will not shy from saying that many of them were caused, or exacerbated, by the police. It is most heart-warming, finally, to encounter two honest coppers, as the phrase goes. So, may I offer a toast? Decent people, honest coppers!”
We drank, and as he lowered his glass, he grinned at Jon, suspicion evaporated from him in the warmth of Ben and Deb’s reunion.
“So, young man? This new love of yours?”
Jon can really blush.
We were early at the Cumbrian force’s HQ the next day, and as soon as all five of us were assembled in the foyer Liam Weir came out to welcome us all.
“Mr Sedgewick’s come up as well, and we have some other people attending. I wanted to ask if that would be acceptable. If not, we can set up the video feed to separate rooms”
Jon was switched on again.
“Would this by any chance be the family that was mentioned before? The ones who broke the place in Carlisle?”
Weir nodded. “Yes. The Elliotts. I have already spoken to them, and Mr Elliott mad a rather fruity comment about wanting as many people as possible available to dance on Copper’s grave. The family is in one of our smaller conference rooms, where we have set up the link. I’ll take you in. Can you buzz us in, please, Mick?”
It was so, so similar to how our space in Cardiff had been before Elaine had started us pinning up maps and lugging in urns, kettles and flipcharts, except for the large screen mounted on one wall fed from an overhead projector. Six people were waiting for us along with Sedgewick, and I was immediately confused, because while two of them were men, one was too young and the other seemed not to be part of the family at all.
Peter surprised me just then.
“Roger, my dear?”
“Peter? What brings you…Oh! Is this Benny?”
Peter led his husband to the older man and after embracing Roger, turned to Ben.
“Darling, you remember what I said, about my friends from London? This is Roger. Roger, my beloved husband, Ben. I am afraid we were a little precious, and double-barrelled our names. How is Simon?”
Roger’s face fell.
“The dear boy went last year, Peter. I am… well, meet my adopted family, my dears. Three generations of it, no less!”
The oldest of the women, though not by much, blew a huge raspberry.
“Only by adoption, you sod! Let me; he’ll only be silly and take all morning. You two are bobbies, am I right?”
I held out my hand.
“DC Owens and DC Philips. Di and Jon, if you like”
She had a strong local accent. “Sheepshaggers, is it? Stevie and Em here knows all about that place!”
One of the other women smiled broadly, eyes twinkling below dark curls I suspected were not quite natural in colour.
“What Kaz means is that me and my boy here went to college in Bangor, and if I let her witter on, she’ll take even longer than Roger there. I am Emily Elliott, my hubby Stevie, our kids Stevie and Karen, and she’s Karen Dennahy”
Jon perked up.
“Not Brian’s missus?”
Who? He caught my expression.
“I know: it’s not rugby, girl. Assistant coach at Newcastle United. That right, Kaz?”
She nodded, and Emily put a hand out to shush her.
“Let me finish, lass! Brian’s busy today, he says, but I am going to be really blunt here, because I think it’s more of a case of cold feet. So, clearing the air, we know who that bastard in the cells is, and we know why he is there. Why are you all here?”
Sedgewick coughed to attract our attention, I suspect because the Emily woman was starting to get prickly. I was more than a bit confused, though, because she seemed to be referring to the remaining woman as her husband, and she was keeping very quiet. The Super was almost as soft in his own way.
“Mrs Elliott, Cooper worked in other places before Castle Keep. My two colleagues here have identified a number of victims from one of those, and brought two of them to watch their interview. It may lead to a trial, which is why it will be without sound. I am sure you will understand that our intention is to help these other victims to find a little peace in their lives”
The woman Emily had seemed to introduce as her husband looked up at this, speaking for the first time.
“Was it just Charlie you had, wherever it was?”
I shook my head.
“No… sir. They had Donald Renfrew Hamilton as well, but I believe he is no longer with us”
He looked female, but the voice, the manner, even the clothes said very clearly that he wasn’t. There was obviously a long story there, but not now, not today, DC Owens. He looked me directly in the eye for the first time, and I saw nothing but hatred there.
“Don? That fucker rode the wrong tiger, and it ate him”
“Dad!”
It was the youngest of the women, the one called Karen. Her interruption brought a shrug and a hand raised in apology.
“Sorry, pet. They killed Don, but they missed Charlie. If he ever gets out, I won’t”
Jon looked across at me before Sedgewick interrupted to stop anything we might need to be professional about.
“Stevie, Ben here and Deb were both in Don and Charlie’s old place, before they moved up this way. I will not say, I NEED not say, any more. Now, Diane? Jon? Are you set?”
We nodded, and he turned to Liam Weir.
“Time to lay some ghosts, my friend”
CHAPTER 9
“Good morning, Mr Cooper. I am Detective Constable Owens, and this is my colleague DC Philips. We will be conducting an interview, and it will be recorded on tape. I believe you are familiar with the process”
He sat opposite us with the duty brief, and my first thought on seeing him had been ‘used up’.
He was like a spent match, everything burnt away, all energy dissipated in old age. I was struggling to reconcile what I knew of his crimes with the shell before me and at the same time seeing the faces of Deb and Ben, as well as the flat hatred of Stevie Elliott’s glare. He had sent us on our way to the interview with one request, that we leave him in no doubt as to his situation.
“Make that bastard shit himself”
Jon had looked at him in response, and I knew what would have been on his face. Elliott had stared him down.
“That bastard had me for years. This? This is what they did to me. They didn’t even have the decency to let me kill myself, the fuckers! Sorry. Sorry, kids, but, well”
He had shaken his head, before looking straight at Deb.
“One day, pet, one day, we need to sit down and put all this to bed. Today? For today, please sit with me, and you, Ben, please. Let’s just watch the fucker squirm”
That summed up the difference between ben, Deb and Stevie Elliott. Deb spoke of old pain, while Ben had fear sitting on both shoulders, but Stevie: he hated, with a deep, swirling passion. I suspected that one way or another, legal or not, Cooper’s life expectancy would have shortened monumentally if he were ever to have been released.
“…please state your name for the benefit of the tape”
The old man and his lawyer made the necessary replies, and we began the game. Jon did the talking, for once.
“Mr Cooper---"
A smile, of sorts.
“People call me Charlie”
“I know, Mr Cooper. Some of those people explained that to me. Now, both of your employers at Castle Keep are in secure accommodation, is that correct?”
“Elsie and Rayner? Well, they were mad, weren’t they? I mean, they made me do such… such horrible things”
Jon’s mouth twisted, ever so slightly.
“So when you were photographed buggering Mr Elliott, having made him dress as a schoolgirl, that was entirely the fault of your employers? I am slightly confused here; could you please clarify?”
I found myself seeing Jon in a very new light, and if I had been on the other side of the table, Stevie Elliott would already have had what he wanted. Jon’s voice was chilly without being nasty, but the way he was phrasing things could have left no doubt in Cooper’s mind. My boy hated him., hated and despised every aspect of him from shoe-soles to the utter failure of his attempted combover. There was clarity in John’s style, the clarity of a shark eying you as a potential meal. Once, and never, ever again, Bridget and I had gone down in a shark cage, and it hadn’t been the teeth that had frightened me, but the utter blankness of their eyes.
Jon was delivering his questions in the same way the fish had stared at us, without passion. His words, though, cut have skinned Cooper, and the casual way he had ignored Cooper’s attempt to ingratiate himself was almost beautiful.
Some of those people explained that to me.
Jon shuffled some files, taking his time, letting the old bastard sweat, then raised his eyes again.
“Mr Cooper, we are not here to discuss those matters. Your crimes at Castle Keep were properly addressed in the trial that sent you here. We wish to ask you about your previous employment”
Cooper looked quickly at his lawyer.
“That place in Bradford?”
What the hell? Police, professional Owens. Sod it: Sutton. Cling to that. Think of Blake as a whole new can of worms opens. Jon stayed cool, though, and ran with it, as if he had anticipated the answer.
“For the benefit of the tape, can you confirm the establishment’s name?”
“Meadowcroft, I think. Yeah, Meadowcroft”
“Were you going by the name Cooper at the time?”
The combover flopped as he shook his head.
“Nah; it were Johnny Kelsoe back then. How did you know about that one?”
Cooper’s almost childlike manner had evaporated, and I began to see some of the person Elliott, Deb and Ben must have known all too well. Pull it back, mate; leave that one to the end. Jon, though, could have walked on water that morning.
“We are a special unit, Mr Cooper. We specialise in re-opening old cases, investigating historical crimes. We have an awful lot of information about you and Donald Hamilton, for starters, but we are hear today to discuss Mersey View in Runcorn. Once more for the benefit of the tape, can you confirm that you were employed there up to its closure?”
“No. I left there before it shut”
“How long before, Mr Cooper?”
“A fortnight”
“So, effectively, you were there tIll it was just about to close”
“Well, yeah”
“Employed by John and Marie Parsons?”
“Yes”
“Were they also mad, Mr Cooper?”
“Beg pardon?”
“You stated earlier that your employers at Castle Keep were mad, and that they made you do horrible things at their establishment. Is that not correct?”
“Well, they did!”
“So, were John and Marie Parsons, like Rayner and Elsie Cunningham, also mad?”
Coopers’ mouth opened, but Jon slipped the knife in before he could speak.
“Did John and Marie Parsons also make you do the horrible things you did at Mersey View, or were they your own idea that time?”
The brief winced at that barb.
“Officer, perhaps we could proceed to the allegations?”
Jon’s smile was as meaningless as that shark’s.
“Certainly, sir. Mr Cooper, do you recall a person called Benjamin Nicol?”
The old man’s head really jerked at that one.
“Benny? Where is he?”
“Is that a yes, Mr Cooper? You do recall a Benjamin Nicol?”
“Er, yeah. I remember the name”
I sat back, letting my hands drop into my lap so that neither of the men opposite could see how my nails were cutting into the palms. Jon followed suit, and his next question brought the worst response of the day.
“Do you also remember a William Wells?”
Years seemed to fall off Cooper’s face as he smiled in obviously fond memory. Jon’s hand reached across and took mine, and I squeezed his trembling away. It didn’t reach is voice though, even with Cooper’s next reply.
“Billy? Oh, I loved Billy! We wanted to run off together, me and the lovely boy. How I wish… Wasn’t possible, though, was it?”
“How old were Nicol and Wells when you worked with the Parsons, Mr Cooper?”
“Dunno. We had boys from about eight upwards. Probably ten, eleven years old?”
“Do you consider it reasonable to propose running away with a child of that age?”
“Billy was special. Always meant to look him up, but, you know…”
“How many times did you rape William Wells, Mr Cooper?”
“Come on, that’s not fair! I loved him!”
“Do you remember, Mr Cooper? How many times?”
He looked to his brief, who seemed to have a bad taste in his mouth.
“How many times did you rape Benjamin Nicol, Mr Cooper?”
“It wasn’t bloody rape!”
“I have statements from Mr Nicol and the other victim I have named…”
Oh, chwarae bloody teg, Jon!
“Both of them, as well as a number of others we have identified---I should clarify that matter, Mr Cooper. We have a number of other victims identified, and we are visiting them one by one. We are, as we have described, a review team for old cases, so we can allow ourselves the luxury of patience. Anyway, we shall revisit the topic of other victims another time. For now, what is relevant is the simple fact that both victims I have so far identified have described their experiences of your attentions as rape. Nothing less than rape. William Wells, when he finally found safety, needed a considerable number of medical procedures to rectify the damage done to him, damage which included an anal fistula”
He paused, whether for breath or self-control I was unsure.
“How is your personal hygiene, Mr Cooper?”
“You saying I’m dirty?”
“Both William Wells and Steven Elliott had to be treated for infestations of lice when they reached safety, Mr Cooper”
On we went, and while we got nothing crunchy, really incriminating, from him, the interview tied Cooper to people and places, giving us enough of his self-justification to sink him if and when a trial came. Finally, though, both Jon and I had had enough, a point he spelled out almost telepathically as he asked if I had any questions of my own, pressing his hand down on mine in a clear signal to leave it.
We signed off the tapes, did all the rest of the formalities, and stood to take our leave. I realised I was speaking for the first time since we began.
“We will leave you with your legal advisor to discuss matters, Mr Cooper. We will be looking to speak to you as we continue gathering testimony”
He looked shattered.
“What’s the point? It’s all done!”
I took a peek at my young man, who was obviously bursting to say something.
“DC Philips?”
“Mr Cooper, the point is that it gives some peace to those whose lives you destroyed. That is the point”
He opened the door, but I had to say it, turning back to give Cooper one of my best feral-Sammy grins.
“Oh, and we didn’t know about Meadowcroft. Expect us to return with far more questions”
Crump of a closing door, and I moved fast to catch Jon, who was near to collapse.
“Not here, mate. Let’s get back to the room., yeah?”
He was close to tears, his eyes shining.
“Run away together? What the actual fucking fuck?”
“Hold it together, OK? Come on, people to heal!”
We made it back to the little group of victims and their families just before his tears came in earnest, and Deb was first to him before Roger, Peter and Ben joined the hug. Liam Weir was very soft in his apologies as he left to order some refreshments, and only then did I have DC Diane Sutton back in enough of a steady state to look around the room. The Elliott family was cuddled up to Emily and the elder Karen, Kaz, while Steve just gripped his wife’s hand, face hard. He shrugged at me.
“I know, Diane. Looks callous, like, but it was one of the things I lost back then. I don’t really cry any more”
He pulled his wife’s hand to him and kissed it.
“It’s OK. Love. Over now. Done. Peace, aye? That copper’s off for some teas and stuff; we’ll get off home in a bit”
Once more, he looked up at me.
“Your lad’s new to this, isn’t he?”
“Yes”
“He was very good in there. He did what I wanted him to do, and I will say my thanks when he is ready”
Deb settled down next to me, Jon having left with Peter to wash his face.
“What did he say, Di?”
“Can’t tell you that, Deb. Let’s just say, well, look at what it did to Jon”
“She took my hand.
“One of the good guys, aye? Honest copper?”
“Very much so, mate. Very much so. Just got to make sure he doesn’t get broken”
She smiled. “Girls will be there for him, love. Any time, we’ll have his back, Here’s that local officer back”
Weir had an actual trolley for teas and coffees, with commercially-made biscuits I half expected Deb to turn her nose up at, but she grabbed a chocolate one with as eager a look as any of the rest of us, just as Jon returned with Peter, face washed and eyes red-rimmed. Steve just nodded across to him.
“Well done in there, son. And thank you”
His wife whispered into his ear, and he nodded sharply, looking back down at her hand as he held it in his lap. Emily’s voice was soft.
“Stevie’s always had nightmares about that man, ever since he was rescued. Kids, those nightmares have never gone away. Your Dad and me, well, we are hoping now. So many years… Diane, Jon, thank you for this. He’s broken now. Properly broken. Might make our nights better”
Jon coughed.
“Thank you all for your understanding—No! Just take a thank you. Charlie Cooper, aye, well. Not broken yet, not completely. But he will be. Inspector Weir? Can we get to a phone somewhere private, please? The bastard has given us another address. I’d like to set the ball rolling”
Stevie Elliott’s smile reminded me, yet again, of a shark, but there was life in his eyes; life, and hatred.
CHAPTER 10
We spent an hour or so with the others, Inspector Weir excusing himself after a few minutes, and I was pleased to see the mood lifting as the biscuits, and a couple of plates of muffins, vanished. Three older men chatted comfortably to one side while the Elliott family gradually moved from Stevie’s slow boil to Jon’s star-struck questions about a retired footballer. I ended up chatting to Stevie’s son, who seemed remarkably grounded.
He grinned at me when I commented on his calm, and after a wave at his dad’s chest, pointed out that being adaptable was a bit of a necessity.
“I mean, I know what he looks like, but, well, that’s all illusion in the end. Dad’s always been a real man’s man. He used to take me along to watch him race, and talk about cutthroat!”
“Race?”
“He’s a distance runner. Middle distance, but not track stuff. Road races, cross country, fell-running. Still does the veterans stuff up home. That and bloody stupid stuff with ropes and things on rock. Took me out a few times, but it was never my thing. Don’t mind the hiking, though”
He grinned, and I liked him immediately; there was real openness there.
“Living where we do, it’s hard not to do something in the fells. Even Uncle Iain stays off the rocks, but when he gets Uncle Roger over there up for the weekend, or Uncle Tom or Aunty Tess, well, slightest hint of sunshine and they’re off being mad. My kids love it, though”
“What have you got?”
“You’ll be expecting the wallet and photos thing, right? Well, I won’t disappoint”
He did the conventional thing, and I responded with approval to pictures of two pretty young women and a serious-looking young man.
“That’s our Tom. He takes after Dad, all bookish. He’s going into teaching, like Mam and Dad. You got any bairns?”
“Children? No”
I thought a second before adding “Not yet, but hoping. My other half, Blake, yeah? He works with me. I have to use my maiden name at work to avoid confusion when people ask for DC Sutton”
I looked at his family pictures for a little longer, almost washing my soul clean of Charlie Cooper’s stains. This was what could come out of damaged people, out of victims, victims like myself. The younger Stevie caught something in my face.
“If it’s not too personal, Diane, what happened? I can see it in your eyes, you know”
I gave him a slightly twisted smile.
“Not that much, looking at what others here have been through. I was sixteen, it was a local councillor. Pulled me into his car and, well, enough said. Got him back, though. He’s doing a very long stretch now for several attacks, including the one on me”
Stevie took my hand.
“You are so like Dad, you know. He says you should never be a victim, you should be an opponent. Life’s not a sprint, it’s a longer race, and there’s always time to catch someone, even if it’s at the tape”
He grinned. “Dad’s full of stuff like that; I’m sure he gets it from all the books he gets through”
I smiled back. “A few shelves in the house?”
“Bugger a hell aye! IKEA must think he’s their best customer. Mam’s no better, really, and with all the books for school… Thank you, by the way. Mam said it, but even with all Dad’s aggression, he’s still hurting. I believe we’re a strong family, but sometimes Dad, or Mam; well. You understand”
I nodded, just as Liam Weir returned again.
“Diane? We have a room for you, with one of our conference phones. Whenever you are ready, I’ll show you the way”
“Thank you, sir. We’ll just say our farewells”
I waved Jon over to me, and raised my hand for attention.
“Thank you all for today. Thank you for your courage, your honesty and for reminding Jon and me of why we do this job, and who we do it for. As you will have gathered, we now have another investigation to set up, but we have, I believe, enough from today to, at the very least, make a decent case for the Crown Prosecution Service to consider. I know that man won’t be around much longer, but after meeting him I would very much prefer that he remain well away from decent folk. Deb?”
“Aye?”
“You travelling back with us?”
“If you don’t mind, Di”
“We’ll grab you when we’re done here, then”
There was a round if hugs and handshakes, and I was pleased to see some of Ben Nicol’s aspects of ‘prey’ had lifted from his shoulders, his husband standing happily by him, arm around his waist.
Cling to the positives, DC Sutton.
Jon and I followed Weir to a small room, a spiderphone sitting on a small desk. Weir went to shut the door behind the three of us.
“Mind if I listen in?”
I shook my head.
“Not at all, sir. We know this one will involve yet another Force, and as Cooper remains in your area, it makes sense”
“Thank you. If necessary, I can absent myself at any time”
Jon seemed fully recovered by then.
“Oh, sit down! Sir!”
I dialled the number, and it only rang twice.
“Patel!”
“Hi, boss. We’re done here. You weren’t hovering by your phone all morning, by any chance?”
He guffawed. “Guilty! What have you got for us, girl?”
I looked over the table at Jon; he had done the work, let him get the credit.
“Jon here, boss. We managed to tie him down to time and place, and also for each witness. With his previous, and the fact we have got him to confirm contact with each of them, we should have enough for the CPS”
“Are you all right, son?”
Jon sighed.
“Not really, boss. Not just at the moment. It wasn’t just that he was trying to make friends with me, it was that he was on a different bloody planet. You know what Deb told us?”
It was a second or two before Sammy replied, and the warmth had gone out of it.
“Let me guess, son. It was all consensual. Or was it the ’little temptress’ shit?”
“Apparently they were in love and going to run off together”
Liam Weir made a strangled noise as Sammy replied.
“Jesus fucking wept. Thank fuck she got away in time. Now, you two, I know that tone of voice. What else do you have?”
I left Jon to shudder.
“Another place, boss. It was in Bradford; Meadowcroft something or other. Cooper was working there under the name of John or Johnny Kyloe. We need to get rolling with it”
“Hang fire on that one, Di. We are running out of man-hours, so it may have to be left with West Yorks. I’ll still sell our unit to them, though”
“Yes, boss, but we have all the background, isn’t it?”
Sammy laughed, and it was one of his nastier ones.
“That Cooper fellow really pissed you off, didn’t he?”
“Boss, he almost made Ashley fucking Evans look clean. Jon did all the interview, because I think I would have been too tempted to rim his head off”
“Ah. Jon, mate? How do you feel?”
“Truth? Soiled, boss. Utterly defiled, just breathing the same air as him”
“Di? How did he do?”
I looked over at my no-longer fresh meat.
“Bloody well, Sammy. Really kept it together in there. Cooper was left in no doubt about what we thought of him, but nothing oppressive, nothing nasty, and we got the other address. Smooth as a smooth thing, our boy”
“Thanks, you two. Get yourselves back, but no hurry. You’ve earned a bit of a rest. I’ll speak to West Yorks, you two sort out a briefing note when you get back”
“I can whack one out on the way back”
“No. You will leave it alone. Get home, see your blokes, and take a bloody shower. Once you’ve washed Cooper off, I’ll see you at work. Got me?”
Jon and I said the necessary, and we terminated the call. Weir looked at both of us with more than a hint of sympathy.
“What an awful job you two have”
Jon grinned back. His cheekiness restored at last.
“Looking at those people in the conference room, I will have to disagree, sir. We are allowed to make a difference, and that is why we both joined up. Di, grab Deb, some sarnies and the station?”
“Sounds good to me, mate”
Two hours later, we were once more speeding through the hills and Blake had replied to my text.
Mam and Dad coming round. Doing lamb and trimmings. Dad bringing beer and videos
I showed the text to the others, and Deb just grinned before showing me her own phone.
Meeting you at station. Got cakes for them two. XXX Gem
Jon burst out laughing, and showed us his own text.
Get back save, love
His laughter turned to blushes as we both stared, and then Deb laughed, unable to keep up the teasing.
“Oh, sod it. That’s done, at last. There’s a café thing on this train, and I am having a beer. You two?”
Jon and I nodded, and she was back in less than five minutes with three cans of Stella, which was better than nothing. I let her crack her can, and after we had all taken a mouthful, I reached for my overnight bag.
“Got something for you, Deb”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. It was when I was in the Dom Rep, for my wedding, innit? My best mate, Bridget, she did something with me, for me. I was down on the beach, listening to the waves. Same sort of sound when Ashley Evans, you know? And the memories…”
“I know, love. It’s associations. I get the same sort of shit from some old aftershaves. Memories get linked”
“Yeah. Well, Bridget turns to me, and she hands me a stone, and I say what’s this, and she says ‘It’s Ashley fucking Evans. Do you want him?’ and of course I say no, so she flings it out into the waves, and she shouts at it to fuck off and never come back”
Deb smiled, and it was gentle and warm.
“That’s a true friend, girl. She really cares for you. Nice idea, too”
“Yeah. I thought so too. That’s why I brought you this back from the Dom Rep”
I took the small stone from my bag and passed it to her.
“When we get some time down the Bay again? Deb, meet Charlie Cooper. Do you want him?”
CHAPTER 11
We spent two weeks on the initial aspects of Meadowcroft, and while we were not precisely surprised at what came out from under a Bradford stone the team’s reaction was a revelation.
Reality had descended on us in a big way after the whirlwind of our original tasking, for the police drama depiction of dedicated sleuthing is utter rubbish. We don’t spend months on one case, patiently sifting evidence before moving to a conclusion, but rather take on a job, a case. Then another. And another.
Jobs are run in parallel, and in many ways it makes sense. There is a standard newsreader phrase, “Enquiries continue”, and that is true of most investigation work. The Scene of Crimes Officer might be as switched-on, enthusiastic, driven and (to be blunt) anal as the lads had been at that idiot’s wheely bin, but the lab work takes time. Contacting witnesses takes time, getting statements takes time, it all takes time. That time would obviously be wasted, so we run our jobs in parallel, shifting focus as the files come back or interview dates arrive.
There is, of course, another reason, and that is our non-Lords and masters. While all governments seem to see public services as whole hams, to be sliced bit by bit to the bone, the lot who were in just then were obsessed with it. They even coined a phrase for it: ‘More for less’. It was supposed to mean greater efficiency at negotiating such things as IT contracts, but the practice was simply cuts on top of cuts. We weren’t exactly ring-fenced, because while our new role as a national resource meant that South Wales could bill other forces for our work, the top bosses seemed to see us as an income stream first and foremost, and the caseload piled up.
Just then, of course, I was working on putting Cooper’s obscenities into a suitable case file for the CPS, while at the same time going through much the same process on Meadowcroft as I had done with Mersey View. That was what brought the revelation I mentioned.
It would have been so bloody easy to have become case-hardened by what came out, to see each new offence as ‘just another…’ rather than what it really was: the destruction of another human being’s childhood, and all too often their future as well. It didn’t happen to my colleagues, my friends; we never seemed to lose any of the distaste, finding places in our souls to put it away while we performed Police, Professional, but never, ever, losing our disgust.
It was corrosive. I know that now, I knew it then, but in its own way it could be described as addictive. Each new discovery showed me how well the team had been selected, for we all seemed to react in the same manner. For me, and probably all the others, one prime emotion was guilt.
The victims were people. The predators were people. We were people. One way or another, I felt complicit, and the only absolution open to me was the delivery of justice, and ensuring it was done openly and visibly.
By the end of that fortnight, I was almost ready to send Cooper swimming the way his own bosses had sent Hamilton, so I wrestled that thought down, and sent it to sleep somewhere in my own soul along with all the scars from yet more savaged children.
Bastard, and not the only one. Thank god for my family.
West Yorkshire were good to us, in the end, although I doubt that it was what they intended. Once we had established the basics they snatched the case back, no doubt with the intention of garnering their own kudos, but Bev Williams had sneakily managed to get a sneaky press conference in before the English were ready, and sneakily got it on national TV news, the sneaky sod. It produced the expected newspaper headlines and editorials, and I had to walk away from a couple of newsagents before I was seen to be less than Professional. The tabloids who were shouting the loudest about mismanagement and failings were always the same ones who had banged the drum loudest in favour of that slicing away of resources.
What did you bloody expect, you tossers?
To be honest, I was glad to get rid of that case to West Yorks. I wanted to see Cooper sent down for the rest of his natural, I wanted Deb, Ben, Stevie, their families, even Harry Bowles, to see it happen. What I really didn’t want was to be made to speak to Cooper ever again.
The CPS, for once, were apparently cooking by gas, and a week after I handed over the Meadowcroft file I was walking into Chester Crown Court with Jon and Deb. I had expected something more local to either Runcorn, as the area of the offences, or perhaps Carlisle for simplicity, but Sedgewick had clearly been steering things for his own agenda, and I had wondered whether it was another bit of glory-hogging along with that game from West Yorks.
My suspicions vanished when I saw his face. It spoke to my own crowded soul, and what it said was that he simply wanted to see Cooper go down hard. He still found a smile, though.
“Di! Good to see you again. We have a room available, our own office, actually. Rather too many guests for an interview room”
Jon was peering round the foyer.
“Anywhere I can grab a coffee before we go in, sir? Bit of a long drive”
“Not a problem, son. I’ve got some set up already. Rank has its privileges, sometimes. Down this way; make the introductions when we are all in. Ms Wells?”
Deb looked up. “Aye?”
“Thank you for the VIS. Do you feel up to reading it out yourself? Ben Nicol-Clements has delegated it to his husband, so I will understand”
Deb shook her head emphatically.
“No. Not this time. This time I do the abusing”
Sedgewick’s smile was still there, but softer.
“No, my dear. Not do. This time, some of us get closure, and for him that will mean a cell door, permanently if the judge is switched on, and trust me, we have a live one today. In here, please”
It was a decent-sized office, but there was indeed quite a crowd. All members of the extended Elliott family were there, with multiple extras including an older man who was immediately collared by Jon as Sedgewick did the teas and coffees he had promised. Deb was chuckling, so I gave her a raised eyebrow.
“Di, it was Gemma, aye? So bloody typical of her. ‘Take a few pastries away with you’, she says, and I tell her there’ll be more than just me, so she says ‘Take a few more then’ and that’s why I have the big bag. Caused me some fun at Security, I can tell you”
I had noticed the holdall, but Jon and I went through the fast track as we were on duty and therefore tooled up under our jackets with asp and spray. Deb unzipped the bag and started to bring out the familiar cardboard boxes. I took a peek to my right, and even Jon had switched his gaze from a football coach to something that promised to be far sweeter.
Small talk, pastries, cakes, appreciative remarks, laughter, not all of it nervous. And then Liam Weir at the door.
“Thank you all for coming. Our boy is ready for the dock, but the Court Service has asked if any of you wish screens? We are sitting victims in the body of the Court, along with a support if required, but we can arrange things so that Cooper can’t see you”
Ben looked at Peter, squeezed his hand with a smile, then turned back to us.
“Thank you, Officer, but no. I am going to let Peter read my Victim Impact Statement for me, as he actually wrote it, and I do not believe I would have the strength, but today I want that pig to see me smile as he receives what he is due”
Weir nodded, and Sedgewick looked over to Stevie.
“Mr Elliott, we are also proposing to sit you with the Mersey View victims, as you sort of qualify”
He paused, then grinned.
“It would also put the shits up him, which would be welcome indeed. Are you happy with that?”
Stevie smiled, in a nasty way.
“I’ll have Dad with me to hold my hand”
Dennahy threw a wadded serviette at him.
“That was for legal reasons only, you sod!”
Elliott simply grinned again.
“No it bloody wasn’t, and you know it! Anyway, are we ready? Are YOU up to doing this, Brian?”
Shit. Something else was going on, and I wasn’t in the loop. This was Sedgewick and Cheshire’s prosecution, not ours, and I was a little out of the loop. Sedgewick led us to the assigned Court and I ticked off the number of bodies the Elliotts swamped the Public Gallery with. Beside the ones we had already met, there were two couples who seemed to be the Dennahys’ children plus spouses, a hard-faced and very fit man with a blonde wife, and another, bonier, blonde with a huge husband. If Cooper wasn’t intimidated by the people on the floor of the Court, those in the Gallery would do the job.
Our barrister gave us the necessary and unnecessary instructions as we lined up in the back row: Ben, Peter, Jon, me, Deb, Stevie and Brian Dennehy. At least Jon had lost enough of his hero-worship to take a seat next to Deb. The door at the back of the dock opened, and Cooper was brought in, eyes everywhere until they clocked Stevie, who smiled at him.
Immediately Cooper switched his gaze to the Gallery, and for the first time since I had met him he looked truly frightened. Job done, so far.
“All rise!”
Judge in, backsides back on seats, and the Clerk back up for the charges.
“…at Mersey View in Runcorn, in the County of Cheshire… that you did indecently assault on multiple occasions…”
“…that you did inflict grievous bodily harm on…”
The list went on, including rape, ABH, false imprisonment on Ben, Harry Bowles (that one brought a gasp from the Gallery), Deborah Wells formerly known as William.
Cooper jerked at that one, and his eyes locked on our group, settling on Deb, who simply stared ahead without returning his stare. The charges rolled on.
“…in Castle Keep in Carlisle, at that time in the County of Cumberland…”
More of the same crimes, and then, bang.
“… the person of Brian Dennahy, then being a child under twelve years of age”
Jon jerked at that, and I looked across at Brian, but Stevie already had his hand.
CHAPTER 12
There was murmuring from the jury, but His Honour stared straight at them so intently it stopped dead. He turned back to the Clerk, and nodded.
“In the matter of… How do you plead?”
Cooper shot our group a furtive glance before looking down at his hands again, then, standing in the dock he gave the first of a complete and unbroken series of almost inaudible responses. “Guilty’, ‘guilty’, ‘guilty’--- no exceptions. The only deviation was when Deb’s pain was aired again; he looked up again, over towards her, and I swear I saw his eyes wet.
Our jury members were looking at each other at the end of it all, several shrugging, and the Judge had to open his mouth this time.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, please be patient. Would Learned Counsel please be so good as to explain?”
Defence rose.
“I beg Your Honour’s pardon?”
“While I believe your instructions emanate from the far North West of the country, I do not actually believe it is that far away from the Inns of Court that modern custom and practice of jurisprudence will have escaped their perception, attention and compliance. We have assembled here today, at great expense to the public, and no little inconvenience to the twelve people good and true of the jury, in order to receive a plea that would more properly have been delivered at first instance! That is what a Plea and Direction Hearing is for. Would Counsel be so good as to remind his instructing solicitors how things are done in the rest of the country”
Ouch!
The Judge’s eyes scanned the Public Gallery, as well as our little group sitting in the body of the Court, and I swear I caught a sly wink from the old bastard. He clearly knew exactly what had cracked Cooper, and most of those reasons were called Elliott or Dennahy.
“No matter. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, this matter would not normally have been presented in this way, but I thank you for attending today. There will clearly be no need for your customary role here, but I believe we will have a number of what are called Victim Impact Statements that are to be delivered. You will have by now a clear idea of the foul nature of the crimes for which Charles Cooper has now admitted, and I would beg your indulgence to bear witness to their resolution. You are now discharged as a jury, and may leave if you wish”
The jury had a quick chat, but none rose, and the Judge nodded in acknowledgement.
“What does Learned Counsel have for this Court?”
Our man stood, after a quick nod to Peter and Ben.
“Your Honour, as you surmised we have a number of Victim Impact Statements for consideration, three in all. Arthur Henry Bowles provided a further statement, which lies on file in Jury Bundle Four. May we commence?”
“Proceed”
The usher led Peter Nicol-Clements to the witness box after Ben’s quick hug, and Peter stared back at him for a few seconds before turning back to the bench. His Honour smiled at him, and gave a nod. Peter shrugged, shuffling the papers he held, then put them down again.
“My name is Peter Nicol-Clements, and I have been married to Ben under one description or another for thirty-one years. I watched him abused by the police, I saw him nearly crack as vindictive and malicious liars accused him of molesting children, and I have held him, for nights beyond counting, as he sobbed or shouted in his sleep. I have tried to help him through his self-harming sessions, I have struggled to cope with his OCD, but above all I have loved him more than anyone else I have ever known.
“When he cracks, when he spends a week tidying one part of one room, I have stood by as a species of safety net, because beneath all of his oddities and twitches he remains the same man I have known and loved for so many decades. Kind, generous beyond any concept of fault, incapable of harm. I thought I knew him, and then, one day, two police officers, those two there sitting with my Benny, turned up on our doorstep. In my ignorance I assumed it was yet one more nasty little liar trying to extort something from an old puff. I learned better, though. Perhaps I should say that I learned worse”
He grimaced, waving the bundle of papers.
“All this is what Benny sat and wrote down with Jon and Diane there, two honest coppers at last, two people who bloody well care about justice. I could read it all out. I intended to, as my Benny simply could not face doing so, but I find that I similarly lack the capacity. You will hear more of it, as I well know. Deborah there lived through it, as did Brian, as di Steven there, and I know now that it was because of Steven’s courage that Cooper is already locked away from the humanity he did so much to destroy.
“I will say two things only. Firstly, there are more victims than the obvious ones. All here are victims, either immediately, as with Benny, Stevie, Brian, Deb, or vicariously, from the damage done to a loved one. I have lived with Benny’s pain without ever fully understanding its origin, and that family there, their friends; so have all of us, for we have to share the same planet, breathe the same air as Cooper.
“I will leave you with one image only, one that still leaves my beloved man crying in his sleep. You are ten, or eleven, and living somewhere that is supposed to be a place of safety, and every night, EVERY night, you hear the sound of creaking stairs, or a footfall in the corridor outside your room, and you pray to your God that the steps go past, that Cooper or whichever of them it might be continues on to some other child’s room and rapes them rather than you. Those were Benny’s prayers at ten or so years of age? Please, God, not me, not tonight, please let it be one of my friends instead”
He dropped his head, the usher ready with tissues as he just muttered “Sorry. Enough” and walked back to his husband, who wrapped him in his arms. The jury to a man were staring at Cooper, who was slumped, head bowed, as the two security men with him exchanged their own twisted looks.
Our man was back on his feet.
“We have a VIS from Brian Dennehy, if it please the Court”
The judge looked at Peter and Ben for a long moment, then nodded.
“Messrs Nicol-Clements are thanked by this Court for their courage and service in this matter. Mr Dennahy?”
Brian walked over to the Box, and I looked across at Stevie, whose gaze was fixed on the Dock. I didn’t need to read his mind. Brian coughed.
“Could I have some water, please?”
The usher obliged, and he took a sip, then smiled at the jury.
“Aye, I know. I’m not exactly unknown in some quarters, so bear with me. This is not an easy thing to own up to, and I have kept the details from my family all this time, but it is time I owned up. I was a criminal, a petty thief, from a very young age. Bad crowd, wrong friends, whatever you want to blame it on, but it was me that did the stealing, so no dodging the blame. I ended up in an Approved School for a couple of years, and it turned out to have what can be called connections.
“After that man in the dock, that rapist, after he had finished destroying young lives at poor ben’s place, well, he moved on, to somewhere that was even worse. That place was Castle Keep, in Carlisle, and I know all about that shithole. Sorry, but, well, words are hard to find. My best friend is sitting there, my greatest friend apart from my wife, and he spent years there, years with Cooper and his kind. That senior copper sitting up there in the Public Gallery, I know for a fact that he was one of the poor buggers that had to dig up the bodies. What Peter said, aye? More victims than are obvious. When I found out where they had Stevie…
“I was eleven when I went to the school. I saw them bring the kids over from Castle Keep, colour-coded shirts and all. I watched as Cooper and his mates handed off the boys to our own screws for a bit of leisure time, horizontal relaxation, every kid nicely broken in by Castle Keep. How much did you fucking get for each kid, Cooper?”
He stopped, shaking his head again, hands trembling as he took another drink.
“Sorry, Your Honour. Not easy, is it?”
“This Court understands, Mr Dennahy. Thank you for your bravery”
“Me? I hid this from everyone for years! I kept my nose clean, in the end, because what I saw, what I dreaded, was leaving tat school for somewhere far worse. I was lucky, in the end, spotted by a scout, football apprenticeship, well, I think many of you will know the rest. Lovely wife, wonderful kids, the best friend sitting over there that any man could ever dream of, and so nearly lost forever. Yes, Cooper raped Stevie for years, but he’s already doing time for that. This one’s for me, me and my self-respect. Things I could never find the courage to tell my wife, things I hid even after we found my mate there, things that stopped me loving freely and openly until Stevie and Emily and Karen showed me how it could be done, and then those two coppers there, Jon and Diane, well. It’s been said. Proper terriers, them they don’t stop digging, and all credit to them for that. Where was I?
“Sleepovers. Sort of thing you get in Yank sitcoms or teenage girls’ stories. Well, they did them for us, or rather to us. I think Charlie over there got bored every so often and needed fresh meat, so we’d get to spend a few nights away from our own dorm. I did that three times, and I met Charlie, and Alf, and Don, and thank all that’s holy that one of them gave me a dose of gonorrhoea in the arse because I really, really wouldn’t have been able to survive a fourth stay, and by the time I was clear of that dose of clap I was being signed up by Carlisle United.
“I was lucky. I never saw the cellar. Stevie can tell you all about that place, as can that senior policeman I pointed out. Three times I was raped, three times only, and two of them are dead, but not Cooper. It’s odd, you know? I should wish him dead, it’s the traditional thing, but I don’t. I wish him a long, healthy life, full of the knowledge that every decent human being in existence knows exactly how foul he is.
“Live in hate, you piece of shit”
He looked up once more at the Bench, and the judge nodded.
“Thank you, Mr Dennahy. I feel that we need to breathe some fresher air after such testimony. Accordingly, this hearing is adjourned for one hour”
CHAPTER 13
Sedgewick led the way out of the Court.
“There’s quite a nice place a little walk away. Far enough from the Court for us to avoid the usual idiots, and it has outdoor seating we can use”
Across a couple of car parks we went, to an odd building with a wave-shaped roof, a cluster of tables outside, and fortunately trade was light pre-lunch. We gathered hot or cold drinks and sandwiches, cakes, etc, and started our attempt at a wash-up. It didn’t work, because more than one of us was in tears. Karen was cuddled up to her husband, who was still holding Stevie’s hand without the slightest hint of embarrassment, Emily maintaining a similar grip on Stevie’s other one. The older man, Roger, handed me a business card.
“Darling, perhaps somewhat presumptuous of an old queen, but I was always forward. I feel we should keep in touch; even if you are Welsh”
That got me laughing, which had clearly been his intention, much as the judge had hinted.
“What you got against Wales, then?”
He laughed, face crinkling up in interesting ways.
“Absolutely nothing, young lady! My darling boy spent rather a lot of our time up there, cottaging”
Jon snorted half his coffee up.
“You bloody what?”
Roger grinned again, an obvious joke sailing right past my head, and Jon wiped his face before telling me he would explain it later. The older man continued.
“My dear husband and I are… were… climbers, as is young Steven. We would take a cottage somewhere like Beddgelert and explore the crags”
“Oh! My Dad used to take me up there a lot! Quite the hillwalker, my Dad. Never really did the ropes thing”
“Well, Ada, Steven’s grandmother, lived in the Lake District, which is how we met the dear boy and his darling wife, plus all these others. There are some here you do not yet know. That is my cousin Tessa and her lovely husband Wyn; Steven’s Brother Iain and his wife Hildi; darling Sidney and his sweet Viking Per; Tom, such a waste, married to Sally there”
“Waste?”
“Yes, indeed. We had SUCH plans for him when Brian brought him on board, but that hussy stole him away”
I laughed, remembering Chris accusing me of much the same thing over Blake, but something Sedgewick had mentioned surfaced in my mind, which never seemed to stop looking for associations. A shooting.
“Is he, um, Stevie’s minder?”
“Yes, my love. And an excellent one at that”
Now I was looking, I could see much of the same poise I always saw in Rhys and Rob. In Blake as well, to be honest, and that thought cut. This was one of the hardest days I had ever had, as hard in its own way as the night we had taken out the Evans gang. I really missed Blake just then. Roger took my hand.
“Missing your family, Diane? What do you have?”
“Oh, just me and my man, at the moment. Hoping, though”
Jon made a surprised noise, and I warned him to silence.
“Not for the team, just yet, Jonny boy. Today, though, looking round at all this lot, well, it shows me that Blake and I have made the right choice. It IS a good world to bring children into, after all”
Roger twinkled again.
“And as we look around us, we also realise how many birthdays we are compelled to remember and observe. Now, what delights do you have for us when we resume?”
I waved Deb over and she brought her chair across with her, as the rest of us shuffled ours to make room. Her voice was low, but she was straight to the point with the old man.
“That Tessa is on my bus, isn’t she? You don’t need to answer; my transdar is as good as Jon here’s gaydar. She happy?”
Roger smiled.
“Very, now”
“OK, subject closed. Yes, Di?”
“Are you up to this, love?”
“Absolutely, girl. I mean, how could I not be, after what that bloke over there just put himself through?”
“Well, Cooper’s given us a plea, and with Ben and Brian’s statements, the court should have enough to work on. I don’t want you hurt, love”
She shook her head sharply.
“Not at all, Di. Been hurt, haven’t I? This is requital, getting back at him, showing the world what a piece of vermin he is. No; I do it, and do it today”
“Then there is something you will need to know, and as he’s coughed to everything, I can now tell you”
“And?”
“No easy way, love, so: he says you were both in love and looking to run away together”
She sat silently, emotions working themselves out on her face.
“Diane, how the hell did you sit through that without screaming at him?”
“Delegation, love. I let Jon do the interview”
While I had nearly lacerated my palms with my nails as my fists had clenched under the table. Deb turned to my boy.
“Well done, my sweet man. She’s got a good eye, this woman, she can spot good blokes a mile off”
I had to lighten the mood, though.
“I’m not shagging this one, though!”
Both men threw their hands up with pantomime shrieks of disgust, and the mood did indeed lift. Sedgewick had been keeping an eye on his watch, and got us moving, which led to a new problem. The first indication was the flashing from any number of cameras.
Sedgewick took my arm as we bustled past the assembled parasites.
“Someone’s tipped them off about Brian. I’ve been sorting a prepared statement thing for afterwards. Follow my lead, if you don’t mind, but first let’s get this bit over with”
Courtroom, sit, stand, sit again. It was getting very familiar, and as I scanned the jury benches to count how many had decided to accept His Honour’s invitation, I realised it was all of them. Cheaper than paying to see a film, I supposed.
Cooper was brought in again, once more to the glares of almost everyone there, including the jury, and this time it was Deb in the Box.
“I would like to thank some people here present for this opportunity, Your Honour. May I?”
“Certainly, Ms Wells”
“Thank you”
She looked down at her own notes and began to read, eyes downcast.
“There are two police officers here, Diane Sutton and Jon Philips, both Detective Constables. It is not the highest of ranks, but it is only because of their honesty and dedication that I stand here, along with Ben and Brian over there. It is not just an opportunity to tell the world what that man in the dock did to me, along with his accomplices. It is a chance for me to wash myself clean, as best I can, of those acts, and such chances come rarely, if at all. It is Diane’s strength in particular, her strength as another victim of rape, that has given me my own fortitude and allowed me to do this, and after the incredible courage of Brian Dennahy’s testimony, well, Diane offered me the chance to avoid this because she cares more about harm to me than she does about seeing that man over there sent down, and that is how things should be.
“I will speak, though. I feel almost like Martin Luther: here I stand, I can do no other. So, let me begin”
I knew the story, of course, knew it by heart, and as she worked through it I held back my tears by watching those around me. Lots of hugs, packs of tissues everywhere, one bastard head down in the Dock as my brave friend detailed rape, creak of floorboards, running from Shrewsbury station, and food from dustbins before the lighter, happier conclusion with her new family, and the work she was now doing in Cardiff.
“That is the one good thing to come out of what he did, Your Honour, that I get to help others. I get to see others recover their own strength, rebuild their lives. I meet people who heal, and as they heal, in turn they help others to do so. That will never diminish the pain he inflicted on me, of course, him and all the others he and the other scum damaged and defiled, and by pain I do not just mean the physical damage that necessitated such a series of surgical operations to repair.
“I am single, Your Honour. I will remain so. One thing that man and his friends did to me was to destroy my ability to love as a lover. I can, and do, love others. I love that woman sitting over there, for example, yes, you, Diane Sutton. I love many of my charges. I simply cannot be IN love. That is what Cooper has done to me. Imagine my disgust when I found out that he claimed we were in love and planning to elope from Mersey View”
Cooper screamed then, his voice raw with emotion.
“I LOVED YOU! I REALLY DID! I STILL DO!”
Deb’s hands clenched, her bundle of notes crumpling, some dropping to the floor of the Court, her face turning slowly red, before she turned, finally, to look at Cooper.
“LOVE? FUCKING LOVE? FUCK OFF AND DIE SLOWLY YOU BASTARD!”
There was a loud bang from the Bench, and we all jerked. The judge was holding up his left hand.
“Order, please! Ms Wells, I understand your emotions are heightened. Cooper, another such outburst will see you removed. I must admit that I am becoming heartily sickened by this evidence, and that does not mean that I wish to disregard it. This confirms beyond all doubt the foulness of the crimes committed by the defendant. Does Counsel have anything else to deliver to this Court?”
“No, Your Honour, that is all of the statements we hold”
“Thank you. Does Learned Counsel for Cooper have any mitigation they wish to offer?”
“I would humbly request that consideration be given to the Defendant’s advanced age, Your Honour”
“Very well. I have, naturally, already viewed all necessary reports on the Defendant, and am therefore able to close this matter today. Detective Constable Sutton? Philips?”
I stood, pulling Jon up with me.
“Your Honour?”
“Is this matter now closed?”
“No, Your Honour. We are pursuing further enquiries”
“Of a similar nature?”
“Um, yes, Your Honour. Of the same kind”
“I ask this question, Detective Constable, in honest curiosity, given Cooper’s current situation. What is the purpose of the enquiries?”
I shrugged, which wasn’t really the done thing before a Crown Court judge.
“Hopefully, Your Honour, to bring other people some peace”
“Thank you, DC Sutton. That is an answer that does you and your employers great credit, and may it be successful. Cooper, stand!”
The two security lads ended up supporting the broken old man as he rose to receive his reward.
“Cooper, I have read the reports submitted to me concerning your previous convictions, which are as foul as those matters you have admitted today. I do not intend to use any more than I absolutely need to of the time of the good people gathered here today, in which I do not include yourself. Accordingly, for each of what I must regard as subsidiary offence, those of assault, bodily harm and false imprisonment, you are sentenced to terms of three years’ imprisonment, those terms to be served consecutively. That leaves us, in essence, with your multiple offences of rape.
“Learned Counsel has offered mitigation in re your age. I am taking age into account, but it will not be yours. I look around this Court once again, and I do indeed see good people, and true, and they clearly love and cherish one another, and at the same time I recall the eloquent, in all ways, testimony of Ms Wells.
“You are a parasite, Cooper, someone who stole childhood from so many innocent souls. That is a crime beyond any forgiving, so I will not discuss such a concept. Incarceration has a number of purposes, one of which is rehabilitation, and from your outburst I suspect that such is not possible in your case. There is another purpose to it, besides deterrence, and that is the protection of society, and that purpose is what determines my decision today.
“For the multiple rapes of Arthur Henry Bowles, life imprisonment. For those of Benjamin Nicol-Clements, life imprisonment. For those of Deborah Wells, life imprisonment. For those of Brian Dennahy. Life imprisonment. Those sentences to be served without minimum term in the anticipation that you will never return to a life of freedom. My intention is that life will indeed mean life in your case. If you have anything to say, make it brief. No? Take him down”
The turd was all but carried from the dock, the judge sighing in obvious relief before lifting his head once more.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this Court, and myself personally, thank you for your courage and honesty. We are done”
We all trooped out in little knots of conversation to the front of the building, where the flashing started once more. Brian actually had a coach waiting for him and his family, which Deb and the other two also boarded at Roger’s urging, and as he dashed off he shouted “Contact his agent!” before leaving three of us to face the mob.
The questions were rapid-fire, and Sedgewick just stood quietly until they ran down and out of steam.
“Are you ready now? I am Andrew Sedgewick of Cheshire Constabulary, and I have a statement for you. I will answer reasonable questions, but our time here is limited.
“Today sees the culmination of a long investigative process in which we have been aided by the Serious Crime Review Unit of South Wales Police Heddlu De Cymru, Cumbria Police and West Yorkshire Police. These enquiries have now led to the conviction of Charles Cooper for the rapes of a number of individuals, some of whom have waived their rights to anonymity. You will be aware that Cooper was already serving a life sentence for similar offences committed in Cumbria. I will not encroach on the privacy of the courageous people who have ensured that justice has now been delivered in this matter, but I will say that further enquiries continue. Thank you”
“Is it true that Brian Dennahy was a victim?”
“What about Arthur Bowles?”
A police car drew up just beyond the throng, and Sedgewick took us both by the elbow and led the way as cameras flashed and bloody stupid questions were yelled in our ears. He shoved us into the back seat and grabbed the front one, turning to ask over his shoulder, “Where’s yours?”
I pointed it out on the other side of the car park, and the uniformed lad drove us over. Sedgewick looked drained.
“Get in and get off, sharpish. You in tomorrow?”
I nodded, and he smiled.
“I’ll give Bevan a ring, then. Do a proper wash-up as a dial-in. That work for you?”
“Absolutely fine”
“OK, then. Off you go, and thank you. Bloody well done—talk properly tomorrow, but get out before the paps get you”
“I hope Brian has a good agent!”
Sedgewick grinned, far more in keeping with how he had been on other occasions.
“Trust me, he’ll already have sold an exclusive! And tell Deb to get her own brief rolling: there’s a serious lawsuit coming against the council”
We stumbled out to our own car, and just before the marked one left, Sedgewick called over to us.
“Oh, and can you find out if that pastry chef of Deb’s does delivery?”
CHAPTER 14
Jon drove off smoothly, trying to draw as little attention as possible, and spoke to me from the side of his mouth.
“Stevie says they’ll drop Deb off at the station, so we can pick her up there”
“You OK, mate?”
He was silent for a minute or so, concentrating on the directions from the satnav and the road ahead.
“I don’t really know, Di. I sort of guessed what was coming when he sat with us, but it was still a kick in the guts. Sort of really brought it home, you know? I mean, Harry Bowles, that was a shocker, but Brian Dennahy? There’s someone who has it all, the whole living the dream shit, and there it is. I know there was that England hooker, aye? What’s his name? Pit bull or something?”
“Brian Moore?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. Thing is, he’s always been an arsehole---what’s so funny?”
I had been forced into a snort by that unthinking comment.
“Jon, I think what you really meant to say was that he has always been a committed and aggressive rugby player with a keen sense of team spirit and competitiveness. And a big gob, yeah?”
I could see his smile.
“Suppose so, girl. Anyway, no sweetness and light there, ever, and you had to wonder what it was, and then he says he was fiddled with as a kid, and it’s hard not to say ’is that what made him such a hard bastard?’ and then you look at Brian. Not his style, ever”
“What was his style? Remember, I know sod all about football”
“Hang on…red… OK. His style? Competitive, forceful, but not what you’d call a chopper. Midfield general, aye? Made space, directed passes well. Always an eye for where the ball would be, the right player to pass to, and elusive as all hell when he wanted to be. A real thinker, not a kick and charge player”
“Brian Moore’s a thinker. He’s a lawyer, I think”
“Exactly my point, Di. Aggressive little fucker. I couldn’t see it in Brian, though, not till I spoke, and then, well, shit. Stevie really loves him, doesn’t he?”
“They all do, I believe. Bit obvious at times”
“Yeah, exactly, and that was something I wanted to say before we picked up Deb. It’s family, there. Real family, real strength. Deb was lucky, she found her own, all those girls she has helped, Charlie, Tiff, Gemma? All family, in a way. Ben, there; that husband of his is as much a hard bastard as my own man, and that’s what got to me, Di. How many have we missed? Not just Bowles, but how many others who never found someone to save them?”
I couldn’t answer that one, because I was thinking of Sedgewick as a newly-minted Professional Policeman, in a Cumbrian back garden with a spade and a body bag, which brought another image to mind, and that was an odd one. Double exposure, Adam in a hospital bed, that Eric by it, holding his, her hand. I sighed, and tried to find the right words.
“Not just things like this, Jon. I have a friend, yeah? Had far too much of the shit this job brings, and nearly broke down, but she’s got good people with her, a good man. That’s where we come in, when they don’t have the family, whatever. That’s our job, that yank term: protect and serve. Ah. That her over there?”
“Yup”
“Sweetness and light on the way home, mate. Case might be over, but never is for the victims. Serious question: would you mind if we took the piss out of you and Rhys?”
“As a distraction? Oh, might as well. Candice is already doing her best, and that is so far above what you can manage that I think I can cope”
“Cheeky fucker! Hiya, Deb! Hop in. I was just about to start the third degree on Jonny boy here. About a certain fellow officer who officiates in our office, sort of thing”
Deb lost her tense expression at that, and Jon slipped me a wink as she actually laughed.
“Yeah, some of the girls will be a bit disappointed. Gemma in particular”
I looked over into the back seat as Jon drove us towards the edge of Chester.
“I thought she was all into George North?”
“Yeah, but he’s the figure on the pedestal, isn’t it? Rhys was the one they could touch”
Jon spluttered theatrically.
“Hey! What about me?”
Genuine laughter came from behind me.
“Gemma likes beef, not veal!”
I caught the hint of a blush from my driver, and decided not to make the obvious comment about pork, and the teasing continued most of the way back down to Cardiff, or at least until Deb fell soundly asleep. We dropped her at the house, after all sorts of promises about coming for dinner, and then parked up back at James Street. Sammy was waiting in the office, tea poured.
“Saw you drive in. Time to talk me through it?”
I looked at Jon for confirmation and he nodded, just as Rhys and Blake came in with Candice in tow. I took another deep, slow breath, partly in relief as Blake simply sat by me and took my hand. I turned my head to catch his smile in my eyes, and the world was a little better.
“A couple of surprises, boss”
Sammy nodded, eyes flicking round the room.
“Aye, Rob caught the flash on the Beeb’s news site. How was it?”
“Ych. Pile of shit, as expected, and when Brian came out with his stuff, it must have been texted out or something. Half the bloody gutter press were waiting outside when we finished”
My husband squeezed my hand.
“How was Deb, love? She OK?”
“Can I just start at the beginning? Be easier for me, that way. First up, it was the charges. Sedgewick had kept that bastard quiet, hadn’t he? Our man had us sitting in the body of the court, and they all said it was so Stevie—er, Stevie Elliott, gutsy little man who broke the Castle Keep case? Anyway, he’s there to give Cooper the evil eye, and we get going with the charges, and Cooper coughs the lot, and that is the first we knew about Dennahy and him. Anyway, Ben, Ben Nicol-Clements, he leaves his other half to do the VIS”
Jon perked up.
“By god he gave Cooper hell! Once Cooper had coughed, the judge had told the jury they could clear away, but they all stayed once they heard Peter start off skinning the old bastard. Then it was Brian, and a break, and then our girl”
He shook his head, looking down, and Rhys simply sat beside him and dropped all pretence as he laid his arm over Jon’s shoulder.
“You OK, Jonny?”
The young man shook his head.
“Everyone’s been on my case, you know, right from the start, right from the day I walked in. Not in a bad way, aye? It’s just that the last few weeks have hurt me something rotten. The interviews, especially Bowles, and then today… I don’t know if I’m right for this job”
Rhys pulled him into a hug.
“Tell you what, love, let’s just leave Di to tell it while you sit quiet, then we’ll talk about you and the team, all of us, OK?”
I saw Candice, silent for once, reach out to take Rhys’ spare hand, and I turned Back to Sammy, who was smiling in a sad way at Jon.
“Boss?”
“Go ahead, girl”
“Nothing really to tell apart from what we’ve already said. Deb did her statement, and then she mentioned Cooper’s ‘true lurv’ shit, and he got upset. God help him if she ever gets her hands on him. Apart from that, and His Honour giving Cooper a sack full of life terms, that’s all”
Sammy gave us his gentle grin again.
“Andrew Sedgewick says different, girl. He’s been on to Bev Williams about you two, and I know it’s not the done thing, but when the victims and the presiding judge all sing your praises, we have to take some sort of notice. Jon?”
My boy looked up, eyes slightly red-rimmed.
“Yes?”
“How long have you been a copper, son?”
“Six months off probation”
“So an entire ocean’s worth of wet behind the ears, isn’t it? And your first proper case? And you get some old bastard of a kiddy fiddler banged away for the rest of his natural, and everyone and his brother says what a wonderful bloke you are, butter wouldn’t melt, all that? And you think you’re not up to it?”
Sammy shook his head, pointing to his desk.
“I’ve got Bowles’ interview transcript up there, and Cooper’s. Two sides of the same shitty stick. I am putting it together so Bev Williams can sort out some recommendations, and they are for a commendation. You too, Di. You’ve both done what we should all be doing. End of. Jon, if you want to go, if you don’t think…”
He paused, looking around what there was of our team.
“Sod it. This is the sort of thing I would normally do as a one-to-one, in private. Not this time. I know this lot now, so here’s my view. Nobody here wants you gone, not least the idiot cuddling you, cause he’d just pine and his work would go to ratshit. You have done bloody well for someone new---no! You have done bloody well, full stop. There are officers with decades of experience who would have stuffed up this case. I know it hurts, and that is why we want you on the team. It means you bloody well care, and that means in turn that you’ll do a decent job. That’s all we ask of you. Keep doing what you’re doing. If you really want to go, it will be with a seriously good write-up, but please stay. That’s all from me”
He looked at his watch.
“Ellen, Rob and the rest of the fresh meat should have got there by now. DC Sutton?”
We both looked up, and my boss grinned.
“Ah, she’s already learning to come when called! The others have sorted, hopefully, some seats in the Duchess of Delhi, and then we’ll pop next door to Eli Jenkins. This is the third big case this team has brought home, counting Ashley Evans and his wandering cock as one, and we are all taking tomorrow off. Very conveniently, having the partners of both of you on hand meant we didn’t need to guess if you would be available. Sup up, and let’s get rolling”
It wasn’t that far to the waterfront, and after squeezing our group through a few groups of theatre-goer types we found our table in the restaurant, already occupied by the rest of our team, including a grinning Chris, who guffawed. That was when I realised that Rhys and Jon were actually holding hands.
Hugs and handshakes all round, poppadums and pickles, curry and rice, all with affectionate teasing, and then next door to the warmth of a proper pub that had somehow managed to survive the gentrification of the old waterside area. Noise, laughter, the clink of glasses, and steadily ruder teasing, Jon’s grin back in place right up until the whole pub fell silent in a wave of shushing. The landlord turned up the sound on the television as it cut to a familiar face standing on the steps of Chester Crown Court. As the reporter gave his account, there were several muttered comments from the other customers, many of the words being less than polite.
“Today saw the culmination of an investigation into historic child abuse by Charles Cooper, already serving a life sentence for the rape of a large number of boys in a Carlisle children’s home over many years in the Seventies. The allegations in this case were connected to another boys’ home in the Runcorn area, as well as other charges relating to Carlisle. Although Cooper pleaded guilty to all charges, and received three more life sentences, there was uproar when one of the victims gave up their right to anonymity”
The picture cut from the reporter to a series of still images, and while most of the people in the pictures had their faces pixelated, four were clear: Sedgewick, Jon, me and Brian.
“The assistant coach and former England A player Brian Dennahy was revealed as having been the victim of serious sexual abuse as a child while at school in Carlisle. Among the perpetrators was Charles Cooper, the man convicted here earlier today. This evening, Mr Dennahy gave the following statement at his home in Cumbria”
The image cut to a seriously well-built set of gates, Brian standing with his wife and children.
“I would like to say a few words about what emerged today. Yes, I was abused as a child. It was sexual, and it was extremely violent, extremely unpleasant. It has taken me many years to come to terms with this, especially after the same evil man was responsible for the savage abuse of my adopted son Steven. There are no words that I can say that adequately sum up what it has meant to me that I was finally able to look him in the eye and let him know what I thought of him. I will be writing of my experiences, and the resulting work will be available next year. Proceeds of its sales will be donated to Childline, so that other victims may be given hope.
“I would like to express my thanks to the police officers who refused to let old evil lie unpunished, particularly two wonderful people from South Wales, Diane and Jon. That’s all I have to say today”
The camera cut back to Chester.
“West Yorkshire Police confirmed today that they are now investigating another address where Cooper worked. Preliminary results are expected shortly. Dan Beresford, BBC News, Chester Crown Court”
Chris turned from the screen to glare at Jon.
“A little blonde bird tells me you are thinking of being a fuckwitted little fairy, Jonny boy! Well? Are you?”
The boy in question looked round the team, as half the pub seemed to be staring at him in recognition, as well as at me, and he simply raised Rhys’ hand to his chest, squeezing it.
A sudden grin, the Jon I remembered, back at last.
“Do I look bloody stupid? Who’s got the whip?”
CHAPTER 15
Jon and I went round to the safe house early the next week, at Deb’s request, and after catching up on all the gossip over plates of meat pie and potatoes, Charlie held up her hand.
“Di?”
“Yes, love?”
“That was a great idea of yours. Deb explained it, so we all went out to Penarth together. Even Paula. We each found one, but me and Tiff, well, we had a bag of them”
“Sorry?”
“That pebble you gave Nana. We all went and had a throw and a swear. Felt really good, that, but some people got thrown more than once!”
I snorted at that one.
“That would be Pritchard and two of the Evans?”
“Yeah, and that wonky-eyed prick as well. Gemma said we would end up making a reef out there cause we threw so many”
“No trouble from passers-by?”
“Nah, we had Paul with us as well, in his uniform. He threw a couple of his own, but he wasn’t as sweary. He’s coming round later, anyway, him and his girl”
Ah. I said a little prayer for managerial understanding just as the door rang, and the Sedakas arrived. Yes, I knew I had that bit wrong, but it was stuck firmly now. Charlie looked over to Clara.
“You remember these two, don’t you?”
The newer girl was so much more relaxed now, and just grinned and nodded. After a round of hugs, Deb asked Paul if he had done as requested, which seemed oddly formal.
“Yup. In the cool bag there. Gemma will be over in fifty minutes, she says”
That was oddly precise, but I assumed the bag held our dessert. I really needed to start watching my diet. He was still talking, though.
“Anyone here read the Guardian?”
My boy stuck his hand up, and Deb made a sniff to rival Charlie’s.
“Not me. Too many transphobic bastards writing for that rag”
“Well, sorry about that. Two weeks’ time, they start serialising Paula’s book. They’ve offered her a print deal as well. We’ve been coming up with all sorts of names for it, and I think we’ve settled on one that works: A New Game. Sort of pun on ‘The Game’, you know what I mean”
He smiled at what was clearly now his partner, and then turned to me.
“Bloody good idea with those stones, Di! I nearly popped my shoulder throwing Ashley Evans!”
Paula started to giggle, and at my raised eyebrows she explained through her laughter.
“Just thinking it’s a pity they’ve cleaned up how they get rid of sewage, isn’t it? We could have found a really suitable place for them all! Anyway, our report. He seems sound”
Deb was nodding, and Tiff and Charlie high-fived, before Tiff took her own turn to explain.
“You were wondering why Paul said fifty minutes, weren’t you, Di?”
“Er, yes. Seems a bit precise. I’d just have said something like about an hour, innit?”
“Yeah, well, it’s bus times. Gem has to see someone off on a particular bus before she comes home”
She grinned across at Clara, then turned back to me.
“Our new girl here, she signed up with me and Charlie, at college”
Clara nodded. “I thought, well, new life, yeah? And if these two are there, then I’ve got someone to turn to if, you know…”
Charlie sniffed, naturally. “Yeah, and you’re such a devious cow! Di, there’s us, got our feet proper under the table, innit? And she thinks, does that one, ‘how do I make friends and influence people?’ stuff, and so she has a word with Gemma, and she’s such a soft bloody touch, and gives her a big box of stuff. Comes in, hands it out with a smile, isn’t it, Clara dear?”
Another nod from the other girl, this time with a broad and utterly happy grin.
“Yeah, I did! And of course, they all want to know where it’s from, so that’s a win for Gem’s shop. Advertising by word of mouthful!”
She continued after the groans had died down.
“So, there are all these students, and they are popping round to Gem’s shop, or getting their families to go, and, well, it’s Gem, isn’t it?”
Charlie jumped in.
“Yeah, no way she’s ever getting into George North’s rugby shorts, is there? And Jonny boy there’s pulled Rhys, and you and Blake are all loved up. It’s like the beef’s in short supply, isn’t it? But one of the girls has a big brother, and he is a BIG brother and, well, they’re sort of seeing how it goes. Once he’s on the bus home, she’ll be on her way here. Leave the teasing to us, you two!”
Once again, Tiff tag-teamed her.
“Yeah, and if you are free on Saturday we’re having a student night out at the Gatekeeper, so if you want to see him, that’ll be your chance. Assuming he says yes when Gem asks him tonight, of course.”
I checked my young man for reaction, and he was grinning. He caught my glance, and reached out to take my hand.
“Ah, looks like I was right, then, like all my lot were right. I have to say this, and I’ll say it here, because this is one place I bloody well know is safe. Both these women know what I was thinking, so I’ll spell it out for the rest of you. I’m new to all this, and it has been hard. No, not new to this place, and never hard here.
“I have never suffered the way so many of you have. Got a bit of abuse when I was younger, still get some now, fairy, queer, that sort of thing. Nothing too heavy, is it? Then here I am, right in the middle of things that I really don’t want to talk about, with Deb, Diane, Paula over there, others in this room. I interview people who tell me things…”
He stopped for a few seconds, once more looking round the table.
“I very nearly gave up a little while ago, nearly chucked this in as a bad joke. I always wanted to make a difference for the better, and I got lost in what was there rather than what could be. I sit here now, and I listen to you lot, and it’s easy to do because some of you never shut up, do you, Charlie? And I see the differences there, the changes for the better, and how could I give that up?”
He ducked his head with a grin, then raised his cup.
“Only tea, but what the hell. To making things better!”
What the hell, indeed; we all joined in with his toast, before dissolving into little knots of conversation over the dessert Paul produced from his cool bag, which turned out to be three complete Pavlovas. Gemma entered just as the last dishes were cleared away.
“Don’t worry, Nana! Me and Marty shared some of my steak slices and an ice cream, and yes, he’s on for Saturday night. You two coming?”
Charlie, naturally, couldn’t leave that one alone, and after more happy teasing about Gemma, Rhys, Blake and ‘Georgie’, Jon and I left them to it.
Life was clearly not just going on but improving steadily, just as it crashed and burned for those we had all flung out to sea.
I didn’t really know the Gatekeeper except as a city centre pub I had visited twice on duty in my earlier and uniformed incarnation. It turned out to be a pretty typical ‘Spoon’s chain pub, in what I was told had been an old theatre or cinema or similar, and the students had a raised area set aside for themselves. I felt the years fall away from me as I remembered so many similar nights with Bridget: silly jokes that nobody over twenty would ever find funny, knots of earnest conversation interspersed with canoodling couples, beer of peculiar types as well as odd and lurid concoctions, and above all: noise.
Marty proved to be nowhere near as massive as I had imagined, but he was still bigger than Gemma, which was what mattered to her. Jon had managed to persuade Rhys to join us, and both he and my own man were mobbed by teenaged girls. I caught Jon looking across from the other side of the students’ little area, and he just shrugged and grinned, clearly recognising that we weren’t so much grass widows as ‘hunk’ widows. I didn’t care; I would be getting mine back soon. I kept that thought in mind as a I made my way through the crowd and down to the ladies’. Get it over with, DC Sutton.
The drink was doing its job, so I was grateful that there was a free cubicle, and that it was relatively clean and had paper. The lock worked, and Addison’s packaging was, thankfully, minimal, and the test was positive.
I just sat there, knickers round ankles, staring at the plastic wand and that blue marker. Positive.
Shit. The emotions couldn’t seem to sort themselves out, dread fighting with delight, and for some very odd reason a little bit of chapel-driven shame overriding it all. I slapped that one down hard, as I was a married woman now, so sod you, chapel god.
Sod everything, in fact. I wiped and sorted my clothing, and unlocked the door, dumping the kit in the sanitary bin and walking to the other bin to dispose of the cardboard box, looking up to see Charlie staring at me open-mouthed.
“Di…? Was that a test kit?”
I looked at her in silence.
“Yeah, I know I can’t ever, yeah, can I? But I still know what they look like? Please, Di? What did it say?”
I grimaced. She wasn’t exactly my choice of first to hear my news, but she was still someone I now knew was a good friend.
“Um, Charlie? Looks like I am going to be taking a break from work next year”
She threw herself at me, sobbing brokenly about Ashley Evans and being an aunty, and all sorts of other confused things, before collecting herself, grabbing a tissue for her eyes.
“Di?”
“Yeah?”
“Should have been Blake first, shouldn’t it?”
I shrugged. “Things happen, love”
“Well, only the two of us know, yeah? Keep it that way. Let Blake thing he was first”
I pulled her to me again, for another hug, then held her at arms’ length.
“You are a good woman, Charlie”
“Yeah, well, got a lot to live up to. Good examples to learn from, isn’t it? Come on; I need a wee, and then it’s back up to see how Gem’s getting on with her side of beef. Wait for me?”
“Course, girl”
We walked back up a few minutes later, and she immediately darted off to tease Paula, probably about her seemingly endless capacity for St Clement’s. I found my husband, and pulled him down to whisper in his ear.
“Time to start thinking of names, my love”
CHAPTER 16
I don’t know why, but for some odd reason our return home was followed by a prolonged session of rather energetic intimacy, to smother everything in euphemisms. I lay in his arms afterwards, sweat and other things drying, and discussed options.
“When are we telling your parents?”
I thought for a second or two, but the answer was an obvious one.
“I don’t think we should do, at least not right away. I want to see the doc first, just to make sure”
“Those kits not reliable?”
“Oh, they’re fine, love. I just want to see what he says about everything else. Health and stuff, yeah? Make sure I’ve got no nasties lurking round I don’t know about? Once we’ve got the green light, then it’s Mam and Dad”
“We need to make a list of who to tell and that”
I cwtched into him.
“Not Elaine just yet, love. Not sure how she’d take it”
“Eh?”
“Bloody hell, blokes! You not seen how she is? Broody as all hell!”
He lifted my head to look me in the eye.
“You sure about that? I mean, dykes and all?”
“Doesn’t mean she’s not a woman, and before you start that rubbish, no. Women aren’t all born to be mothers, spending all their lives pining. It’s just, well, most of us CAN, yeah? And sometimes that is what hurts, when you can, like, and at the same time you can’t. I mean, her and Siân they’re well-suited, innit? But they can’t have a kid together, can they?”
“And you know this how?”
Well, by bloody well being a woman, for starters, but mostly it was that time in the pub, when Lainey got smashed. I’ve had my eye on her a bit, just in case”
I paused, choosing my words.
“I wonder sometimes if she’s OK, love. Now and again I get a feeling she’s just about to break. Nothing obvious, is it, but, well, she’s always so busy looking after other people I think she’s lost sight of herself a bit”
He pulled me tighter to him.
“Not the only one, then, is she? Settle down, and we’ll give the surgery a ring on Monday”
In the end, I didn’t sleep that well, images of Lainey there whenever I shut my eyes. Blake was right about me, it seemed.
We got an appointment for Tuesday, and I managed to fit it into a working day. The doctor was brisk, almost hurried, but he still managed to make me feel safe.
“This is your first child, is it not, Mrs Sutton?”
“As far as I am aware. I’d have noticed any others, I think.
He chuckled.
“Trust me, you would most certainly have noticed! Planning for any more?”
I smiled back.
“Um, I think I’ll see how it goes for the first one before I make that choice! All clear, then?”
“Oh yes, Mrs Sutton. What I will do, if you are happy, is set up an initial appointment with the antenatal clinic. Baby is too new to tell us anything crunchy as yet, and there is just about nothing to see for a few months. After that, though, you’ll get a bit busy”
He turned back to his computer, and a printer came to life, churning out a bundle of paper, which he stapled together and handed to me.
“General instructions in there, including diet suggestions. You don’t smoke, so cut down on any boozing and keep it all balanced”
“Curries?”
He laughed, and it was a very happy one.
“No problems there! We’ve got four happy and healthy ones, and if the wife had had to avoid curry, she’d have starved the family! Just remember, for later, that, ALLEGEDLY, strongly-flavoured food can affect the taste of your milk”
I smiled back, liking his style.
“Gets them started young, then?”
“Absolutely! Now, come back in a fortnight, please, unless there are any problems. And congratulations!”
I returned to the office relieved and happy, and the latest bundle of files sitting on my desk managed to become interesting, just for once.
We seemed to have come to a lull after the storms of our ’big’ cases, which wasn’t a bad thing, but I did wonder if it was a general dying-down or merely a lull in the traditional sense as another storm gathered its venom out of sight. The files in question were for a sort of triage, one of Bev Williams’ better ideas. Rather than awaiting the call of some office or other, or the latest newspaper to declare an old conviction ‘unjust’, he had set our fresh meat trawling old files. Jon was with Lexie that day, reading old newspaper copies at the Central Library.
It was a simple recognition of reality: we needed to justify our existence, and while any investigator is proverbially only as good as their last case, we needed new ones to keep us ticking over and from being diverted to other duties. One thing we all had as team members was a liking for the work. If we ran out of assignments, then we would lose it. Fortunately, one legacy of Ashley Evans and his ‘other interests’ was dodgy contracting, and together with Blake’s lovely brother we had a possible case load to fall back on for some considerable time. Sammy had even detached Ellen and Rob to spend time with my brother-in-law to learn a few new/old tricks, and Chris was managing to keep himself involved via a crash-for-cash ring.
What all that meant, in the end, was less running to crime sites or interviewing vile specimens, and more sitting, sorting and simply allowing the associative parts of my odd brain to do the business I had started out at. Over the next few months we got enough patterns in the insurance fraudsters to hand over a case file to CPS via CID, Ellen and Rob were out more than a dozen times with HMRC to discuss business dealings with as many Evans associates (including two more councillors) and I got fatter.
We had left it until after my first antenatal clinic appointment to tell my parents.
“Mam?”
“Yes love?”
“You and Dad coming over on Sunday? Blake’s got a side of salmon in; I could do with showing the best way to prepare it”
She had laughed down the phone.
“Not help in eating it, then?”
“Weeeeeell… it might stretch to four”
“What time, love?”
“About twelve? Eat at two; should give us enough time to cook”
“Right. You’ll need…”
She had reeled off a list of ingredients, most of which I had, and after some small talk, I had pleaded that I needed a wee, and finished the call. If I had spoken much longer, I would have slipped up, and the secret out. They were on time, and after turfing a very interested Fritz out of the kitchen, two of us got down to work while two others sat and talked about rugby. I had seriously seditious thoughts about traditional roles just then.
Mam had brought her steamer over, so the veg was a lot simpler to cook, and her idea for the fish had me salivating as the oven was opened. Dad opened some nice French white wine, Mam and I plated everything up, and for a few minutes there was nothing but the clink of cutlery and some very appreciative silence, which Blake broke as the bottle emptied.
“Di, want to go and get the other glasses?”
That was our code, and I brought four flutes as well as the wrapped package from our fridge. Dad was looking at the new glasses with his speculative face on.
“And the champagne glasses are for what, exactly?”
Mam looked at him sharply, and then, to my horror, started to cry. I left my seat to comfort her, and she waved me away.
“No, love; pass me a tissue, please?”
I found the box on the sideboard, and she smiled as she dabbed her eyes.
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
I nodded, taking my husband’s hand.
“I suspect you are, Mam”
Dad made an enquiring grunt, ever the eloquent one, and Mam rolled her eyes.
“When, love?”
“About seven months, the clinic thinks”
That was when the penny finally dropped for Dad, and just then I had never, ever been prouder of him, for there were tears from him as well, and there was no false Manly Brave Face, no apology. He was my Dad, pure and simple, and he loved me, and he was a happy man, there, at dinner, with his family, and if he chose to shed tears they were of joy, and who was there, at that table, who could condemn or scorn his emotion?
Blake unwrapped the bottle and eased the cork, and over our family dining table, after our family Sunday dinner, we celebrated that family’s coming increase with the people we loved and who loved us. Could life be any better?
I didn’t think so as I grew fatter, of course, especially when pressure started to build on my bladder. I didn’t know what exactly I was gestating in there, but at times it felt more like a baby elephant than a new human. I sought advice, of course.
“Mam, was it this bad for you?”
“In what way?”
“In what way? Look at the SIZE of it!”
“And you suppose that you were any smaller? I thought I was going to end up with a permanent bad back, thanks to you!”
She paused, smiling, and then continued in a quieter voice.
“Such a change in you there is now. We said it when we first met him, didn’t we?”
I smiled back, taking her hands in mine.
“One of the good ones, yeah?”
She drew my hands to her face and kissed one.
“One of the best ones, I think”
I couldn’t argue with that. I could, and did, argue with the sadists at the ante-natal classes. Not the clinic, for they were superb; the people at the classes were sadists. I had my man with me a lot of the time, of course, as we were drilled in what to do, and when. One day I heard him chuckling as we drove home after one of the sessions.
“And?”
“Oh, I was just thinking of that film, the one with the drill sergeant. Full Metal whatsit?”
“Jacket. And?”
“Nicknames, love. What the hell would they be for the other girls?”
“Just the other girls?”
He laughed, happily.
“I have seen you with an asp and a spray, love. I value my health too much to dare offering up my beloved darling for a nickname she might object to”
Silly, lovely man.
I was off work eventually, and it got bloody boring. I had asked Sammy if I could take stuff home to work on, and he told me to piss off. In those words, and with a straight face.
“You’ll be back, girl. I know that, don’t I just! Look: just go away, sprog, sell it for body parts and then come back rested”
“Sell it for…?”
It was cheeky Sammy, not feral, of course, when the grin appeared.
“You think anything you and Lurch are going to produce will be worth keeping? OW!”
He did us a round of cakes, though, on my last day, and there was a card, plus hugs. How could I not want to come back?
It did get boring, though. It isn’t easy to switch your brain off when your work is so absorbing, so I tried to keep it busy, with everything from a massive jigsaw puzzle that took me months to complete, to trawling the internet for advice, which led to me staying away from a very popular parenting site due to the seriously nasty hate-speech they were swamped with concerning people like Annie.
What was wrong with people?
In the end, I often found myself dozing in an armchair, Fritz rumbling away in my lap until my shrinking bladder forced me to push him off. I had the television on one morning, the BBC’s rolling news programme half-heard as our cat dribbled onto me as I rubbed him just in front of an ear, and was only half-listening when it happened.
A burned-out car in front of a damaged house. My idiot brain was already on autopilot Police, Professional as I picked up the indications. The pattern was splash rather than huddled meltdown, so it was a bomb, and…
The newsreader's words only penetrated my mind after I had spotted the footprints in what was all too obviously dried blood.
“A Sussex police officer is in intensive care this morning after what appears to have been the explosion of a bomb under his car. Sergeant Dennis Armstrong was found in his front garden by his wife and a colleague and friend of Sergeant Armstrong, Sergeant Anne Price, who is also in hospital as a result of the explosion. No information has been released regarding her injuries, but they are not believed to be life-threatening. The Metropolitan Police Counter-Terrorism unit are leading the investigation, and are appealing for witnesses”
CHAPTER 17
I grabbed the phone and hammered in Blake’s number, getting it wrong four times before screaming at it. I found myself holding it in mid-air, tensed and ready to hurl it at the wall, as Fritz sprinted off into the kitchen.
Police, woman; Professional. Pull it back and breathe. I slowed my actions down as best I could, tapped in my husband’s mobile number, and got his bloody answering service.
Breathe, woman, centre yourself, and don’t look at the bloody television.
Bloody footprints. Oh fuck.
I managed to get Sammy’s number in, and he answered after only two rings.
“Inspector Patel”
“Sammy!”
“Di? What’s up? Not the baby? He’s out interviewing, have you called an ambulance?”
Breathe. P, P.
“Baby’s fine, Sammy. Can you get online? BBC News?”
“Hang on… Oh fuck. Anyone hurt? Anyone we know?”
“Yeeeessss…”
“Di! Keep with me, OK? Who is it?”
I looked down at my bump, feeling a sudden surge in bladder pressure as my distress clearly did something to my passenger.
“Adam? Remember Adam Price? That’s her footprints by the car, I think”
“Traffic lad? Hang on… Oh fucking shit and bollocks, I see the prints, and… Di. We will talk later, aye? I am going to shout Blake on the radio, you keep your mobile switched on and next to you. Ring someone. Mam, dad, whatever. I will get hubby home to you, and if I can’t. I will be there as soon as, OK? Not alone here, love!”
He cut the call, and I found myself dialling the number on the screen.
“Sussex constabulary”
“Hello. I have just seen the BBC report on the bombing?”
“Are you a witness of any kind?”
“Er, no. I’m sort of a friend of one of the victims”
“Please leave us your details and we will get back to you”
“Is there any more information you can give me?”
“Investigations are ongoing. Further details will be released when we are able to do so”
“Could you tell me what is up with Sergeant Price? Please?”
“I am not at liberty to say, I am afraid”
“Shit! Sorry”
I reeled off my details as requested, hung up, and dialled again, on autopilot this time. If anyone could find out more…
“Inspector Powell. I am on a tea break just now, so better be important”
“Lainey? Where are you?”
“Canteen, Di—ˮ
“Got a telly there?”
“Aye—ˮ
“BBC1, now!”
I heard her shout to someone near her, and there was the sound of the same programme I was watching, volume up high enough to clear the hubbub in the canteen. Elaine was muttering away, and a lot of her words were short and pithy. She seemed to have forgotten I was there, so I started calling her name.
“Sorry, Di. Just, shit, aye? What the fuck is that all about?”
“It’s Annie, Lainey! Not in the car, I mean, but—you got the news on? See the house? That’s her mate’s place, he’s in bloody intensive care. She’s…. that’s her blood, Lainey!”
She shouted something out to those around her, and their voices rose in clear shock and anger/ I kept trying to drag her attention back to me, but she was busy shouting out explanations to those around her. Finally, I had her on the phone again, just as I lost myself. Fuck Police, Professional: this was Annie. I tried to keep myself from sobbing, but it was no use.
“Nobody’ll tell me anything, Lainey! Not a bloody thing!”
She drew in a long and shuddering breath, and I realised how much she must be hurting in her own right.
“Di. DI! I will ask, aye? I have contacts. Go and get a cuppa or something and I will call you back when I have something, OK?”
“OK, Lainey. Thank you for this”
“Any time, woman. You know that, aye? Where’s Blake?”
“Sammy’s getting hold of him”
“Good. Ring your mam, aye? Ring her now?”
“Will do, Lainey. Thank you”
“Go! I will start calling round. Call me when you are sorted”
Fritz was climbing back up onto my lap as she hung up, and so I followed her instructions. Forty minutes later, an older woman was bringing two cups of hot chocolate into the living room, and then holding her broken daughter as she wept without explanation.
Eventually I came back to a better place, and clicked the news back on. Mam frowned, raising an eyebrow.
2You really want the telly on, love?”
“It’s what the problem is, Mam. A friend’s been hurt. They’ll have it back on again in a bit, just--- there you are”
She looked back to the telly, just as the same horrible footage began playing once more. Wreckage, smoke, bloody prints.
“Oh my God!”
Mam pulled my hand to her lap, almost crushing it, as the newsreader’s anodyne tones said the same words I knew by heart.
“Who’s that then, love? Armstrong?”
“Not him, Mam. Annie. Sergeant Price, isn’t it?”
“I don’t recall an Annie, love”
She watched the screen for a few seconds more.
“Di, love?”
“Mam?”
“There was that boy you talked about a lot”
“Did I?”
“Oh yes you did. Motorbike rider. You went to the hospital more than a few times, you know”
“Yeah. Suppose I did”
“And he went to England. Adam, wasn’t it? Adam Price?”
She lifted my head, and smiled softly into my eyes.
“You do pick them, love. What a good job you got it right with Blake. Now, I am going to take a guess, and it is that this Annie is like that Deb woman, and her girls. Am I right?”
“As you always are, Mam”
“Well, mothers always are. You will learn that soon, my sweet love. I will ask no more about this Annie Price except that you tell me when and if she is well. Have you called that number, the information one?”
Yes. They wouldn’t or couldn’t tell me a thing”
“Do you have other numbers?”
So solid, so steady. My Police, Professional was outmatched by her Mother, Mam.
“I rang Lainey, Mam. Elaine”
“That Inspector from over to Carmarthen you were working for?”
“Yeah. She knows her, and she’s got friends over there. She’s going to call when, you know”
“Then drink up while it’s warm. Nothing more you can do now”
The front door banged, and my beloved man was there, and to my surprise and gratification he went to Mam first, kissing her and saying, very simply, “Thank you, Dot”
She squeezed him back. “No need, son. Not ever, aye? We are a family, and it’s what we do. I’ll put the kettle on again, and Di will talk you through it all”
He settled into the space she left on the settee, and suddenly things were better. Not completely, for Annie was lying hurt somewhere, but I was safe now, mother and man there for me.
“Do you mind if I see the news footage, love? I know it’s not nice, but I just want to see what happened”
On it went, the same images, the same unchanging commentary.
“Shit on a stick, Di. Have you rung Lainey? She’ll be the one with the contacts, but I couldn’t get through to her, and her office says she’s on leave”
Odd. She had definitely been at work when I caught her.
“I caught her in the canteen, Blake. She’s ringing her friends over there. Said she’d get back to me when she knows something. Oh, and Mam knows about Annie”
He kissed my cheek.
“Your friend, love. You go whichever way you need to. She OK with the idea?”
I smiled back at him.
“What do you think? She did say that I do know how to pick my men!”
I left that for a second before adding, “And then she said what a good job it was that I got it right with you. She also said Mams are always right”
He kissed me on the lips, tender, gentle.
“No disagreement there, my love. Now, Sammy’s signed me off for a couple or three days. Domestic emergency, aye? What is Mam doing? Dot? Ta”
He took the cup she handed him, setting it down on the coffee table.
“What are you and Mark up to tonight, Dot? I was just going to get a takeaway of some kind in, try and relax and stuff. It would be good to have you both here with us tonight”
Mam was nodding. “That’s why I have already rung Dad and told him to come up after work”
Blake grinned back at her.
“Mams are always right, aye?”
She just nodded, and in the end we had a Chinese meal from the local place, and Mam prattled on about baby clothes and modern nappies as Dad and Blake dissected the current Wales squad, which brought me warm thoughts about Gemma, Charlie and another evening in a Cardiff pub. There were no updates of any importance on the news, and so we gave up waiting, and around nine-thirty Blake rang Elaine again, looking puzzled as his phone was answered.
“Mind if I stick it on speaker, Siân? There’s me, Di, and her parents here. They know who Annie is. Ta!”
He did the necessary, and Siân’s voice was clear enough.
“Hi, everyone. Sorry I can’t give you the wife, but she’s not well just now”
I felt the panic rising again as I saw two of my best and dearest friends fading, but Blake simply held me to him and continued speaking.
“What’s up, Siân? Nothing serious?”
There was a long sigh at the other end, and some muttered Welsh.
“Not really sure, Blake, but I think she’ll be fine. Just a bit of a breakdown, ah? Lot on her plate just now, and this one just caught her blindside. Got our uncle’s wife over in a bit to see to her, so I am just letting Lainey sit quiet. You’ll be worried about Annie, though”
I found my voice.
“Worried about all the people we love, woman!”
She was silent again, just for a few seconds, before a simple “Thank you all for that”
I caught a suspicion of a sob, but she was as strong as ever, and came back with a steady voice.
“Remember the tall woman with the ginger hair, back when you went blonde, Di? Steph Woodruff?”
That name again. I found myself smiling.
“She’s a good mate to Annie, isn’t she?”
“Aye, she is. Anyway, she’s on the case, her and her Geoff, and then we have our sister, and that Eric, Annie’s fiancé, he works at the hospital she’s in, so one way or another we’ll get the news to you, so settle down, look after each other, and I will see to my sweet wife”
I tried again.
“Tell her we love her, Siân”
“She knows that already, Di”
She hung up on us abruptly, and I found myself crumbling again. I managed to make it to ten o’clock before I simply had to get away and into our bed, just to be held and comforted.
I didn’t sleep well, and was up all too early as Dad set off back to work and Mam groaned at the lack of Decent Breakfast Things in our larder and set off for the Co-Op.
News on, tea in hand, cat on lap, and an hour later a shamefaced husband beside me, I found myself crumbling again as soon as our breakfast was done I started weeping again. It came and went until lunchtime, when our phone rang. Blake answered it, grinned and turned to me to mouth, very clearly, “Lainey”.
“Aye, Inspector”
“Lainey, she’s not good. Have you got anything, any better news?”
“Lainey”
“No shame, girl. No shame at all. That’s what makes us good coppers, aye? We care. Now, you take care; I’m going to take my wife somewhere I can hold her and let her know it’s all going to be OK”
“Got a lot to live up to, innit? Talk later, love”
He hung the phone on its hook, and turned to me with a smile.
“Time to breathe easier, love. Lainey’s… Lainey’s struggled a bit, but she’s realising she’s got people round her”
Mam looked at me, and saw I was having my own struggles, so she asked for me.
“What is happening, son?”
He shook his head.
“Stress, Dot. We all get it, and sometimes, well, it gets a bit much. Obvious, I know. Di: Annie’s fine. Much the same as Elaine, in truth. Just one more incident than she was able to cope with. That’s all”
He held me tighter, just as he had promised Elaine.
“Annie had a collapse, but she’s back with us, just like Elaine. Dot, want to come up to St Fagan’s with us? We’ll have a walk round, and a pub lunch, and then we’ll see what we shall see this afternoon. Elaine has promised us updates as and when, but we are not going to fester in here all day waiting. I’m not going to allow it”
He grinned suddenly, and put his hand to my bump.
“Dot, she tells me Mams are always right, so I thought I’d show you Dads could be right too”
CHAPTER 18
St Fagan’s is and always has been one of my favourite places. The village is nice in itself, but what I have loved since I was a girl is the attached museum. It has changed its name several times, from Welsh Folk through History to National, but it remains, at heart, the same place where one can climb into the back of a pony trap and be taken for a ride past reconstructed old buildings from all over the country. There are tea rooms on site, serving proper Welsh dishes, gardens, singing birds, everything I needed to lift my soul.
I wandered round with Mam and man, a hand-holding daisy chain of three wherever space and other people allowed, and we did justice to the cakes on offer in the Buttery rather than the Gwalia, as Mam refused to let me struggle up the stairs into the latter. It was delightful, and even more so with the company.
We sat on a bench people-watching for a while, and Blake smiled as he turned to me.
“Remember that day down by Dunraven? Bit like this, wasn’t it?”
I just smiled in turn, and squeezed his hand. Mam looked a little puzzled, so I did my best to explain.
“It was early days for us, Mam, and he drove us out to you know where, isn’t it? See it in daylight”
“And put some ghosts to rest?”
I nodded.
“It was needed. I needed it, and, well, I think we both did. My darling here showed me I was
still alive, still, don’t know the right word… Autonomous? Independent?”
Mam was nodding as well, understanding plain in her face.
“Your own person, love. Not a puppet of that pig. A life of your own to lead, yes?”
“Absolutely, Mam! And then we went down to the
Heritage place, all super-hot investigators, and got knocked right down to earth. There was another witness there, one we’d missed!”
“Court didn’t miss though, jury, did they? And you went out and brought all those others in. That was good work, and you made me and Dad proud”
I hugged her to me.
“Bridget did something about the old ghosts as well, Mam. Night before the wedding, and we’re down on the beach, and she hands me some stones, gives them names, and we throw them out as far as we can, telling them to never come back”
Mam giggled. “And I bet it wasn’t ‘go away’ she said! I like that idea, love. Pity she moved so far away, that girl. She was good for you, after, well. After”
She cocked her head, brow furrowing just a little.
“You know, your Dad and me, we did wonder about you two, whether, well, you know what I am saying, love”
“Well, we weren’t, and I am not”
I patted the new person awaiting their turn in the sun.
“As you can see! Would it have been a problem?”
Once again, she squeezed me back, her smile as broad as my own.
“Only in two ways, my love, and that is one of them, and the other is sat beside you. Blake, love, thank you. This family, we all love you. Things you have done, we can’t repay, ever. Don’t answer. Just understand that you are loved. Now, I have been thinking!”
I made a comical ‘shocked’ face, and she waved her free hand.
“No, love. Serious, I am here. That Elaine Powell, yes? Just been thinking, with you mentioning Bridget and that, and the child. How is she feeling with you being pregnant?”
Blake looked across me.
“What are you thinking, Dot? She broody?”
Mam shrugged.
“Son, one thing you need to know here, about her Dad and me: we were lucky with Di. I… Neither Mark nor me, our… We were never really born to have children easily together. That is all you need to know. Diane here was a very lucky thing, one in a billion, and we were never able to give her a sister or brother. That hurt”
I found her a tissue as she fumbled with her handbag, and of course I had to shush away her apologies. After a few seconds composing herself, she continued.
“Blake, that is why it is so easy to call you ‘son’, at least for me. You complete this family, and now you both give us someone else to love and cherish. And you show us we won’t be the last, that I didn’t leave that legacy to my daughter, being barren. And I just thought, how old is your friend? How old is her partner?”
I caught on immediately.
“Shit! Sorry, Mam. Blake, there was that cousin of hers as well, at the trial? Vicky? Mam, a lovely woman, isn’t it, and she’s got a bun in the oven as well, back then. Hell, we need to ask how she is, must have had it by now. You think Elaine might be jealous, Mam?”
“No, love. Envious. Different thing”
“Pedant! Well, we need to drop round and see how she is, and we can ask about that Vicky while we’re there. See how she reacts”
Mam was shaking her head.
“No, girl. You go round, if you do, and you see how she IS”
Right, as ever. We made our way back to the car park, and Mam took her leave of us once we home. Blake cooked a simple pasta meal that night, and after all the sleeplessness I was early to bed, and then rather late up the next morning. Mam was responsible for that, it seemed. So steady, so sharp in her observation; even when she had shown her vulnerability she had still calmed me and soothed my worries. I hoped that when the time came I could manage to be as good a mother as my own.
Blake had his laptop out as I finished breakfast, checking his mail, and I heard him grunt in obvious surprise.
“My Guardian feed, love! Look at this”
He turned the screen my way, and there, in colour, was Paula, over a blurb announcing the serialisation of her book, due to begin the following week.
“She made it then!” I nearly shouted, grinning happily. “We’ll have to give her a shout, see how she is”
“I’ve texted Deb. Let them do the celebrations first; he’s their copper, after all. Not such a bad world, aye?”
“Nope! I am seeing that more and more, love. We going to see Lainey?”
He grinned and showed me his phone, which held a message from Siân.
This pm be good.
“I thought we could pop across and do a supermarket run on the way back. Your Mam wasn’t impressed with what we had in, was she?”
“Do we need to buy seaweed, then?”
“Not THAT traditional, love!”
The weather was holding fine, which was handy as it is a long drive from our place to Carmarthen, and after Port Talbot the road goes inland quite a way, passing to the North of Swansea. Doing it in the rain would have been soul-destroying, but we had sunshine with us as Blake drove in his normal smooth, safe style as I fed him sweets when it seemed appropriate. I did unwrap them first, though.
The Powells lived up near the hospital in what looked like a recently-built detached house, an extension over the top of the adjoining garage. There was space on the driveway, and as we finished parking up Elaine came out of her front door and pulled us both into a hug.
“Careful, woman! Bit delicate, me”
She laughed, which relieved me in no small way. I had been dreading some odd coma or similar.
“You know that’s how they used to describe pregnant women, years ago? ‘In a delicate condition’, aye? Croeso i Caerfyrddin! Her indoors has got the kettle on; come in and have a seat, and I will give you what news we have”
Blake set his hands on her shoulders.
“Calm, Lainey. You’re forgetting why we’re here, aren’t you?”
She started to crumble at that, and I could see the fragility there. I slipped an arm round his waist.
“Come on, you two. Natter indoors, yeah?”
She led us into the front room, just as Siân appeared with the predicted tray, pot and cups, Blake producing the box of Thornton’s chocolates we had bought that morning. Elaine perked up a little.
“I’ll get fat, sitting round eating all this stuff!”
Her wife sniffed, which naturally brought Charlie back to mind.
“Like I care how fat you are, ah? As long as you are still here for me is all I care”
I could see it now, Mam’s words dovetailing with the conversation in the Gamekeeper with Charlie, what seemed like a lifetime ago, and it was both of them. Every so often, I would catch a look towards my bump, a little twitch or crinkle of expression. Get the chat onto other subjects, DC Sutton.
“What’s the news then, Lainey?”
“You mean about Annie?”
“Please”
She shrugged. “Mixed, girl. She hurt herself, stupid woman. Her mate’s on a ventilator, though, so it could have been worse. Start from scratch, aye?”
Blake and I nodded, and Elaine settled back with her tea
“Annie was staying over with Dennis and Kirsty. Colleagues, aye? Kirsty’s just like you at the moment, about ready to drop”
The tells were there, clear to my P, P eyes.
“So Dennis is on early turn, and Annie’s up. Bad dreams. She apparently gets some really shitty ones. Tied in with what took her off the bike. That one I think we were both at, Di? With the kid? She has a few like that, and she can’t lose them, and one of them, it was fire and kids”
I nodded sharply, patting Blake’s knee.
“I know about that one, Lainey. I visited Adam as was in hospital after that business. Not nice at all”
“Aye. So, there she is in the kitchen, nighty, slippers, and she says Den’s fridge is in a little recess, so he goes off out to drive to work, and she’s tucked just round the corner, putting the milk away or something, and they’ve got a glass front door, or they had, so when the shits set the bomb off there’s slivers of glass blown right down the hall and through the kitchen. She was bloody lucky at that”
Siân had the tissues ready for her.
“She goes running out the front, as Kirsty comes downstairs, and the car is an inferno, and this is it, this is Annie, aye? Still a copper, still pro, her worst nightmare just finished playing and there it is again, in real life? And Sar says, my sister tells me she’s SNIFFING the smoke, and it’s not there, the smell, stench of burning fucking human being…”
She took a few seconds to breathe heavily as her wife cuddled into her, wiping away the tears.
“Tells Kirsty to get a hose, aye? Soak her with cold water, keep it on her, and she’s lost her slippers, and there’s broken glass fucking EVERYWHERE”
“I saw the footprints, Lainey”
“Aye. She had her feet cut to ribbons, Di, but they’ll heal. Anyway… Dennis was outside the car, in the end. Paranoid, he is”
Blake interrupted her, “Fucking good job he was!”
“Aye indeed. Anyway, mirror and stick stuff, and he’s jumped away, and the blast has put him through a hedge and into their front garden. He’s not well, and he’s full of fragments, and Annie, well, just one too many. They found her all rolled up, foetal position. Everyone thought she’d cracked. Christ knows what Eric would have done if she had really gone, finally, for good, aye?”
I was struggling for the right way to say it, so I just let my tongue have its head.
“I couldn’t really see it, you know? I mean, he was always such a lovely man, and this is so confusing. I remember him, in a hospital bed, over a canteen table, a cheeky grin, sneaky sense of humour, and then, well, there we are at that café. He really loves her, doesn’t he? Her fiancé?”
“Eric? I really believe so. He’s a diamond. I would be hard put to think of… Anyway. She’s on bed rest while her feet heal, and there are a few low-grade burns, but apart from that she’s awake, making jokes and demanding tea and chocolate. So many people fussing around her”
“Who was it, Lainey?”
“Don’t know, girl. Rumour is that they have someone nicked already, but is all on counter-terrorist and need-to-know level. All I care about right now is that two people get better; I’ll keep the hate on the back-boiler for now”
Blake patted my knee.
2Going to change the subject here, Lainey. Lighter stuff, aye? We were wondering about your cousin”
“What? I mean, who?”
“At the Evans trial. Pregnant. Vicky?”
“Oh! Vicky and Kevin! No, she’s not pregnant any more. Had a little boy. They already have a girl, Tara”
Siân held up a finger.
“Point of order! Tara Elaine, she is. Vicky’s from my side of the family, and her hubby, Kevin, is sort of from Lainey’s side, so symmetry is preserved. Going to make next Summer hectic”
She caught my frown, grinning happily.
“Kev and Vicky have done it for a few years—oh, shut up, Blake, and wash your mind out right now! They have found a villa each year, over in Greece. We go over there together, and it’s always been a silly, fun time, ah? Little Taz is a delight, and this year it will be two little ones to spoil”
She looked across at Lainey.
“You might see how you feel next year, come with us. Three little ones would be even more fun”
The visit continued, along with the conversation, but that was the key moment, in my view. As Blake reversed out of their driveway for our journey home, I squeezed his knee.
“I think Mam was right on the money there, love. Both of them, isn’t it?”
CHAPTER 19
The drive back was just as long, obviously, but it was extended by our Tesco run, and there was a new cat toy I just had to buy, but yes, the Sutton stocks of bacon and sausages were given a major boost. Most of it would end up in the chest freezer, of course, but as long as Mam gave us a little notice we would be properly prepared this time.
It is an odd thing, catering for your own parents. You feel the bar is set at a very high level and no matter how well you prepare, in your heart of hearts you just know that failure is inevitable. My parents would never say so, and objectively I realise they wouldn’t actually think it, but paranoia is a given when your mother sits at your own dining table.
I kept the evening meal simple, grilling some lamb chops and serving them with some new potatoes, peas and halved tomatoes cooked beside the chops. I had spotted two other things in the supermarket, and they were a real find: trays with a built-in cushion underneath. We sat on the settee, meals on our laps, and left a certain feline in the garden for the duration. He would get any leftovers, but the way Blake cleared his Blake their existence was doubtful. Replete, I sat back as my husband let the huffy little carnivore back in, and I could read Fritz’ mind all too easily: where was MINE? In the end, after a fruitless search of the room for any escaped lamb, he gave up and settled on my lap to purr and dribble as we watched the news, most definitely more in hope than expectation. Nothing new, in any way.
“You know, love, I could always drive you over there”
It was tempting, and he knew it, but I had to say no.
“Said it before, haven’t I? She’s getting herself all sorted out with a good bloke, and a sort of ex-girlfriend turns up. How to fit that one into a box? Especially with her family the way they are. They wouldn’t be thrilled, would they?”
2Offer’s still there”
“I know, love, and I appreciate it. You back in tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Someone upstairs had a brainwave for some work, so it will be a long day. They have a commercial burglary gang in Bristol, and he wants their time banged up cross-reffed to incidences of industrial burglaries”
“Eh?”
“Big money stuff, love. They’ve got someone in Bristol who really doesn’t like the lot they’ve got banged away and is looking to show how it all ramps up when they aren’t inside. Means it’s all indoors shit, no trips to crime scenes, no witnesses, nothing. Most definitely bloody ‘review’ work!”
“Well, stop by Gemma’s place, then. Just remember I want some as well”
“Want to pop round and see the girls tomorrow?”
“Why not? I’ll give Deb a ring some time, and let you know if they’re OK with that”
I couldn’t hold back a sudden urge to laugh out loud.
“And don’t tease Gem about rugby players!”
He was away early the next day, and it was a wrench, as always. I had well and truly passed beyond Evans’ shadow, it seemed, and Blake’s presence beside me was no longer a shelter but a joy, pure and simple. My parents had described him as ‘on of the good ones’, but in all senses now he was MY good one, and I almost resented my little passenger for my enforced absence from the office and my man’s presence there.
I caressed my bump. Almost, but not really. I remembered Elaine and Siân’s description of their Greek holidays, and took a few minutes to run a little internet search on villa holidays. That led me to the photo files, and I spent a much longer time looking at the ones from our family stay in Venice.
I ended up with Fritz on my lap, hot chocolate beside me, and time evaporating as I reminisced and looked at smiling faces and glittering waves. What to do? I was tempted by the Powells’ offer, but the memories of Cavallino were so good, and there were my parents to consider, and, and.
The realisation was there, though, that I had time. I was still young, all of us were healthy, and I now had a life ahead of me rather than a history dragging me back. In the end, I made my decision. Holiday in Greece with new child, and then, as they grew, the waterparks near Venice and a return to that terrace where Blake had done…
It was stupid, I knew, and it was hormones and pregnancy, but I had to cry, and then Fritz needed moving so I could have a wee, but even through the tears I knew I was still smiling. Once my face was clean again, I rang Deb.
“Hi, Diane. I was going to ring you. Timing is everything. We are all out tonight for a meal. You up for that?”
“Occasion, Deb?”
“Oh, yes, but more than one. Not the sort of do for the house. We have a room booked at Angelo’s just off Queen Street. You two up for that?”
“We should be, but what occasion, woman?”
She laughed. “No need for flowers or anything like that, Di. Just be there. OK? About seven?”
“Ah, I’ll drive then. I’m off liquids for a while, and that’ll let him indoors have a couple. I’ll let him know. See you later”
I rattled around the house that day, doing a little housework, some light laundry, and other essentials such as introducing Fritz to his new toy, which was a device with an off-centre weight inside driven by an electric motor. It had a long tassel on the top, and as it wobbled around the kitchen floor, he looked first at the device, then at me, and his expression said so clearly and disdainfully “And how old do you think I am, woman?”
Bollocks. I left it running, and turned to do the dishes, and naturally, as soon as my back was turned, he pounced on the thing and started chasing it round the floor.
Bloody cats.
Blake was back on time, and as I had given him a heads-up e-mail he was quickly changed into less formal clothing and occupying the passenger seat of my little car, said seat pushed so far back to accommodate him I was glad we had no passengers to squeeze in. I parked behind the Millennium stadium, and we walked hand-in-hand along the street opposite the wall with all the odd animal statues on it, and I noticed more than a few people, mostly older women, smile fondly at seeing us, bump to the fore and hands linked. Most definitely a future, woman.
Angelo’s had a whole room set aside for us, tables set in a square, and as Blake got outside of a pint of Peroni I consoled myself with a huge glass of lime and soda. Most of the girls were there, and as I did the rounds, I realised that those I thought of as the central characters were missing. I asked Deb, but she just smiled and said they were on their way. Ten minutes after we had taken our places, Tiff and Charlie appeared, grinning happily and hugging me carefully, and then Gemma, smiling just as broadly, and clinging possessively to the hand of her rugby player.
There were still empty places, and two of them were filled a few minutes later by the Sedakas and the two women Paula was calling Nell and Jazz, who looked a little lost but were swiftly put at ease by the girls sat next to them. There was indeed something going on, and to my astonishment the last four places were taken by Peter and Ben Nicol-Clements, and a slightly embarrassed-looking Jon and Rhys, the latter catching my eye and shrugging.
The drinks orders were taken and filled, and Deb rose, tapping a glass with a fork in the well-worn signal that people should shut their mouths and listen.
“Hiya all of you! Tonight is a bit of a celebration, and I am glad I was lucky enough to get the last two I needed to make this evening complete. So, sod introductions, but a couple have to be made. Benny here is an old friend from my childhood…”
I noticed Kimberley look up sharply at that, but Deb simply flowed on.
“His husband, there, is Peter. We were out of touch for some years, but thanks to the two couples there—Di and Blake, and Jon and Rhys---we are back in touch and, as is the way of things, finding out all sorts of things to share.
“So, why are we here? Lots of reasons, but all good, all things to bring a smile. So, first: Charlie and Tiff. Congratulations are due on two fronts, the first being their A-level results, which are excellent. Charlie and Tiff!”
Glasses raised, applause given, and then Deb’s hand up again.
“The second thing is just as important. You all know why I run the house, and you all know that it is a place of refuge. That doesn’t mean it is a final place to hide, and so once again, we say so long, but not goodbye, to a couple of girls who have made their life their own. Kim?”
The older girl stood up, smiling at Deb.
“I suppose I am one of the lucky ones here, one of the first Deb ever took in, and without her, I have no idea where I would be. Well, actually, I have some very clear ideas of where, but that didn’t happen, and Deb is why. Charlie and Tiffany here are two more. They have moved out, found their own flat, and left room for other strays to be helped. Congrats, you two. Life starts now, starts properly. So let’s drink to two girls who are showing others the way! Charlie and Tiff, once again!”
Kim sat down, and Deb indicated Paula, who was patted on the shoulder by her two friends as she rose.
“Hi from me. I feel a little odd standing here like this. You all know where I was, apart from the two gents over there, so I suppose I should spell it out. Peter, Ben, I was on the game, after… events in my childhood. Many of the people here were also victims. Those four Deb mentioned, they dug me out of that, and Nell and Jazz here, well, I have had some really shitty times with things like getting straight, withdrawal, stuff. Always there, those two, always at the end of the phone when I needed them. Sisters, that’s what they have been to me. Anyway, part three of this celebration is my book. Written, published, serialised in the Grauniad. I am an author, now, a woman with a story to tell, not just a whore and a smackhead. Four coppers who supported me, who listened, who never condemned, and two sisters to help me through the dark places.
“There’s one more, though, and he is sat beside me. I don’t know how many times he nicked me, how many times he took me off the streets, but never with a sneer. I suspect he saw something in me, and in the end what he offered me was protection. I was asking myself the other day if Paul and Deb there were separated at birth!”
She was smiling as others laughed, and Paul was smiling up at her, and then she lifted her left hand.
“Sod it, there you are. Yup! He asked, and I said yes. I am finding it difficult, I will admit that freely, as I have a lot of issues about intimacy that will never go away, but sod it. Carpe diem and all that! We will set a date when his bosses are clear about all the propriety shit, but he asked, and I said yes, and that is all we need”
Deb called for the toast, and I realised I was weeping as freely as Tiff. As freely as Benny was, in fact. That was when Rhys stood up, looking across at me and winking.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, all that stuff, so I will keep this bit short. Thanks to all round this table, so on and so on, and especially to the fat woman—sorry, Di! Thanks to that wonderful and caring pair Di and Blake and yeah, me and Jon here. I asked, he said yes, and that’s my news. Our news”
Blake patted my knee.
“Shut your gob, love. You look like you’re catching flies”
I looked across at him.
“You knew, didn’t you?”
He grinned. “They told the whole team three days ago. Your fault for getting up the duff”
“Bastard! You were rather involved as well!”
“Oh, shut up and eat, wife!”
So I did, and the evening got steadily better as the meal was finished and people settled into little knots of conversation, congratulations and human warmth. That concept was shining in my thoughts all evening, the idea of a future rather than a past. Paula could never, ever be ‘just another woman’, but she was now becoming her own rather than anyone’s.
I drove a slightly wobbly husband back home, my heart singing, and as we ate our breakfast the next day, Blake already suited and booted for work, the TV news showed the doors being put in in Sussex, Newcastle and Belfast. I wrapped up all the positive thoughts from the day before and sent them off to Annie. That was serious shit going on.
CHAPTER 20
The news was astonishing, and it was clear that somebody was playing office politics in a big way, because every aspect was covered by camera crews. It was forced entry, using Big Keys to break down doors, in Crawley, Newcastle upon Tyne and Belfast.
Blake said a dew choice words before shaking his head in disbelief.
“Got to go, love, but I am going to see what I can get out of Sammy on this. It’s bloody unreal!”
I was in a similar state to my husband, but even more tongue-tied. Belfast? Tyneside? I spent the morning doing almost nothing meaningful apart from waiting for any change in the rolling news coverage, stroking the cat and making far too many visits to the toilet.
Lunch was a simple salad with hard-boiled eggs and ham, accidentally accompanied by a bacon sandwich using some of the stuff we had gathered on the way back from Elaine’s place. It wasn’t a craving, as shown in all too many comedy shows, but the simple desire for a greasy snack combined with a far more complex need to have some reminder of work and the team. I smiled as I buttered the bread, imagining chips and camp outrage. Back to the news again. No bloody change at all. Not that day, nor the next, nor the next.
Four days after the forced entries, they finally let the news out, and I sat with my man as the picture was given to us in all its vile and lurid colour. All too much of it was reminiscent of the Evans as well as of Charlie Cooper and his victims; I nearly lost the stew I had just shared with Blake and Fritz. Half an hour after the BBC spelled it out, Sammy was at our door.
He took in my expression and sighed.
“You’ve seen the news, then”
It wasn’t a question in any shape or form.
“Can I come in, Di? Is it convenient?”
“Hell! Sorry, boss. BLAKE! It’s Sammy. Tea?”
“Please”
I took him into the front room, chasing Fritz off the settee as Blake did the honours with the kettle. Once we all had our hands full, Sammy began.
“You have seen the news, so no sweeteners from me. Here’s the score. Dennis Armstrong was a whistle-blower in his old force, which was why he had to move down to Sussex. Canteen culture, yes?”
Blake was snarling. “Like DC’s Pritchard and fucking Evans, aye?”
Sammy nodded, mouth twisted. “Yup. Similar shit to our Councillor Evans, building contracts and so on, but on steroids. The Cuthberts, the family involved, well, looks like they owned half the Council up there and a shitload of the local Force. Lots of fingers in a LOT of pies, and then he met Sergeant Price. Annie. He did some work with her, just custody stuff, on the Fagin ring she dug up”
That puzzled me.
“Sammy, sorry, but she was never CID, nothing like that. Traffic, through and through, and then Barry said she went indoors, custody sergeant, innit? How did she dig anything up?”
“By being a good copper, Di, a decent person. Kid with issues, regular little scumbag thief, and she took it a bit further. Abuse, beatings, Faginism. You’ve heard some of the rest. Underage girls being punted out to friends of the organisers”
Blake’s voice was softly dangerous.
“How old, Sammy?”
“As young as nine, mate”
He rinsed his mouth with the tea, even though it was clearly too hot.
“Short version? The Cuthberts met up with Annie’s shits in prison, and they obviously had a chat about it, and it looks like Armstrong’s name came up. The Cuthberts were dealing in stolen machinery a lot, and that is where the Irish bit seems to have come in. Favours were called in. The Fagins gave the Cuthberts the location of Annie, which showed them where Armstrong was. It was Armstrong they really wanted; your friend was just a bonus”
Once again, I was in bloody tears. All that optimism at Angelo’s was washed away in a tidal wave of filth. Kids, once again, and here I was about to bring another into the world. I wanted to rush to Annie, make it better, and I couldn’t, could I? What good was I, fat, pregnant, useless.
Blake held me until I could talk properly once more, and Sammy came over to kneel before me and take my free hand.
“No, Di. Not so. You can only see light when it is against darkness”
He laughed, bitterly. “I do talk some shit, sometimes. I know what I mean. Good things, good people. They show up against the bad ones”
I had to ask.
2Yeah, but why does there have to be so much of the bad?”
“Shit happens, girl. It always will. That is where we come in, where we make a difference. You, that Deb, PC Welby, aye? Yes, we know all about him and your witness, and Bevan has moved mountains there keeping the professional standards goons of his case. You’ve all made a difference. We can’t have a perfect world, so we just have to do our best to knock some of the crap back”
His phone bleeped, and after a quick apology he pulled it out of his breast pocket and tapped at the screen.
“Thank fuck for that! Di, Blake: Dennis Armstrong is off the ventilator, awake and talking. I am going to get off now, but remember one thing, and I know full well that it’s been on your mind, girl. You are wondering what sort of world you are bringing a kid into, aren’t you?”
“Um, yeah. I was”
“Well, be aware that Sergeant Armstrong’s missus is well and truly sprogged up as well, and my contacts tell me that all she was saying to her man was ‘You’ve got to be a dad’. That is what sort of world you are bringing your child into, girl: a world with people like Annie Price in it, the Armstrongs, Chris O’Connor, Deb, yeah? And the two of you. That sort of world. Blake, mate?”
“Yeah?”
“If you need any time off to look after this one, just say”
I felt his arms pull me closer, and he just kissed the top of my head before turning back to Sammy.
“I’ll let you know, Sammy”
Our boss just nodded.
“Yeah. Do that. Right, off home to her indoors. See you tomorrow if no problems, mate”
Blake saw him to the door, and then came back to me. No words, no questions; just comfort.
Elaine was a star over the next two months, keeping us up to date with the situation, and that was a welcome distraction from the antenatal sessions and the regular health checks. I had a grab bag packed now, and as my mobility decreased, I had a corresponding increase in the number of visitors.
One Thursday, I was sitting in my normal place, feet up on a stool to ease a little bit of swelling, Fritz sprawled in his secondary position, lying along the back of the settee with his forepaws and hanging over my left shoulder, his back legs over my right, and his belly warming the back of my neck as he rumbled into my left ear. The doorbell rang, and I really couldn’t be arsed to move.
“Who is it?”
“Deb!”
I shouted back, “Come round the back! Door’s open!”
I stayed in my comfortable spot until I heard the sound of the door, then called out to her to stick the kettle on.
There was a very loud sniff from the doorway.
“Guests shouldn’t have to make their own tea!”
“Hiya, Charlie! Bit tied up just now”
She giggled, and a few minutes later they all piled in. Deb, Charlie, Tiff--- and Paula.
“Hiya, you lot. As I said, I am pinned beneath this ferocious and merciless apex predator, oh dear. What’s the gossip?”
They all looked at Paula, who grinned.
“Been following the book, Di?”
“Bloody hell, yeah! It’s great, if you see what I mean. Horrible to read, but, well, you know what I mean”
“Thanks, Di. Means a lot, that. Anyway, some news: caught the eye of someone at ITV. They are having me on their breakfast show”
“Oh! Is that the one with that colossal bell-end on? Moron?”
She laughed, and it was a free and easy sound.
“That comes across as a prepared phrase”
“It is. Got it from Elaine, friend of mine. She got it from Annie, who says it’s a sort of obligatory thing. Every time they mention his name, they have to say ‘colossal etc’. Makes sense to me”
Charlie looked at Tiff, then leant towards me.
“Yeah, Di. Supposed to be funny, isn’t it? But you aren’t smiling. Wossup?”
“Ah, love. Just tired. Sleepless with the kicking, and there’s people I am worried about, and, and, and. Suppose I’m just a bit stir crazy at the moment, not getting out much. Getting flushes and things, always feel like I’m pissing myself, even when I’m not. Just wish it was all over and done”
Paula looked across at Tiff, then back at me.
“That cat OK to pick up?”
“Fritz? Yes. He’ll go as limp as a sack of limp things, but he’s not nasty”
“Then while Tiff picks him up, you tell us where your grab bag is”
“Eh?”
“I think your waters have broken, love. Blake at work?”
“Shit! Yeah, he is. Bag’s by the front door, Tiff”
Paula nodded.
“You drive us all, Deb? Room for a fat one who’s about to get thinner?”
In the end, I went into the hospital in a Tranny Van, which seemed apt in some way. Everything was happening so fast I felt my head spin, but I was soon in a wheelchair, then stripped and onto a trolley bed thing, a nurse asking me to time the contractions I…
Ow. Breathe, woman.
Charlie had rung Blake from the house phone, and half an hour after our arrival at the hospital he was with me, the other women fussing around him, and he kissed me, and it was getting better, my man beside me, Mam on her way, and then it got worse, in a big way, as the contractions accelerated, and life got messy and painful.
Panting, sucking on gas and air, breath control, sod that. Pain and pressure, near delirium as people in masks came and went, Blake holding my hand as a nurse shouted bloody stupid instructions and referred to my passenger in bloody impersonal terms. ‘Baby’ this, ‘baby’ that, oh you little sod, how fucking big are you? Trust me to fall for a bloody giant bloke, if it had been Adam’s, he’s only little, but he’s not Adam, he’s Annie, and…
Whatever it was, it was making its own noises now, and my mind suddenly found focus, became serious.
“Doctor?”
“You have a lovely baby boy, Mrs Sutton. Congratulations!”
CHAPTER 21
They wheeled me off to the maternity ward, or somewhere, and all I remember is watching the lights pass overhead. I was utterly exhausted, but they got me in, after some rather painful cleaning up, and Mam had a new nighty for me, which made an amazing difference.
Hang on. Mam?
“When did you get here?”
“Three and a half hours ago, love. I stopped to get you some fresh stuff. Thought you’d want it”
“Yeah, but I only went I there… Mam, how long was I messing about? Labour?”
Blake looked in from the other side of me.
“About four hours and twenty-three minutes, love. Not that I was clock-watching or anything”
“Shit! Sorry, Mam. I thought it was a lot shorter than that”
She laughed, happily, and dabbed a tear away.
“A bit busy you were, my darling, isn’t it? Anyway, we have a child, which means we need a name, he needs one that is”
Carefully, so carefully, she brought me little man to me from the cot, a wire on his finger and a soft fleece cap on his head, and Mam had been sensible with the nighty, which had buttons on the front, and there are no words for what I felt just then.
The boy settled, I looked at Blake for confirmation, and he just nodded. I took a breath, let it out, and said my piece.
“Mam, we have both talked about this a lot, and we came to a decision which might not sit easily with you and Dad. We still have you both with us, and no, we’re not looking to get rid of you!”
“Cheeky girl!”
I settled my child a little more comfortably on my breast, and reached for Blake’s hand.
“We decided to give a boy his other grandfather’s name, as he isn’t here to confuse people. Honour his memory. Someone I never met, Mam. Never got the chance”
Blake squeezed my hand gently.
“He would have been proud of you, love”
Mam took his other hand across the bed.
“And of you, son. We both are, Dad and me. What was his name?”
“Rhodri”
“A good Welsh name. Dad will be happy with that”
I looked across at Blake once more, and he nodded, so I turned back to my mother to complete things.
“Mam, we have a middle name for him as well, another one that’s gone”
She sat up straighter, head tilting to one side ever so slightly.
“I am thinking that this name, the person isn’t dead? Just sort of moved on in life?”
I knew I could never hide my surprise successfully from Mam, so I didn’t try.
“What name do you think I am suggesting, Mam?”
“Not difficult, love. You were always talking about him”
“No I wasn’t!”
She grinned. “Yes you were! Especially when you spent so much time just happening to be passing the hospital. Anyway, I saw the news”
I winced, and she dropped Blake’s hand to hold mine in both of hers.
“No, love, not just that bomb. I saw a copy of the Sun a while ago”
It was her turn to wince.
“I read what I needed standing up in Smith’s. Yes, I know what I always say, it’s not a lending library, buy it or put it back, but just that once, aye? I read what I needed, and I looked it up on the computer. I know what she did, and I know what she is hoping for with that man of hers. Kids, Duw! That is not something I find easy, you two”
Once more, there was a tear, but she waved Blake away as he passed her a towel.
“Got my handbag, isn’t it? What handbags are for. Son, you know how precious our girl is to me—yes, yes. We know what she is to you as well, so no need to say”
I tried to lighten things a little.
“I still like to hear him tell me, though”
“Aye, well. Mark and me, we couldn’t, ever again. Di was our one and only, Blake, and that is something that makes it even harder to bear hearing about such things. That trial you had in Chester…”
I squeezed her hand back, raising an eyebrow in silent enquiry”
“Yes, love. Dad and me follow all of your cases, all the ones we know about. Proud of you, we are, but we’ve had enough of kids being hurt. The name you are suggesting will be Adam, then. Does she know?”
I felt my mouth twist.
“Not the sort of thing you can go and tell someone who’s getting married, is it?”
“Ah. When you dyed your hair! You are a sneaky baggage, Diane Sutton! What is he like, then, this man?”
Blake interrupted my reply before I could get it clear in my head.
“He has heart, Dot. Real courage. I think he really, really cares for her. I would be proud to count him as a friend. I don’t know if that will ever be possible, but that’s how I feel”
“Rhodri Adam Sutton it is, then. Dad will be happy with that. Now, they are only letting a few visitors in, two maximum. You have friends outside who I think should be allowed to say hello, at least from a distance. That writer, the social worker woman, and those other two young people who know that pig Evans”
I was so grateful to her for that little moment of courtesy to Paula. Grateful, and proud. She could have described her in so many ways, but she chose the nicest. Over the next few minutes, Charlie, Tiff, Paula and Deb took their turn in the doorway to wave at me and little Rhodri Adam, and Mam’s definition of the purpose of a handbag was definitely on target.
Home, eventually, an escape from a hugely exhausting round of tests and hospital food, but not from our repeater alarm clock. Little Rhod was not one of those mythical children who immediately learn to sleep through the night, and for several months I wondered whether I was going to end up more exhausted from the waking and feeding cycle than from the horrendous work of actually bringing him into the world. I made the mistake of asking my dear husband what I had done to deserve such purgatory, and he just laughed and told me he could show me later on exactly what I had done. Sod.
We had visitors, of course, but they only came in the daytime, the sensible and devious buggers. Elaine and Siân were over regularly, their envy (thanks, Mam) so clear now, and we had some days out with the boy, including a party laid on in the safe house that had most of the girls and women there almost fighting to be next to hold him or feed him from a warmed bottle. None of them were so keen when he needed changing, but that didn’t surprise me. I suppose I got used to the smell, in the end, but it almost had a physical presence in the room with me, looking over my shoulder and passing acerbic comments on the quality of my milk.
The presence of so many visitors had another side-effect that I only fully understood in later years, in driving away any hint or shadow of post-natal depression. The only times I was left alone with my child I seemed to spend dozing with him, except, of course, for those few nights when Blake was away on some op or other, and I had to do the plod to the room we had set up as a nursery. I actually thought of that word, ‘plod’, one night, as I fed him, and started giggling so much he got hiccups from the bouncing and had to be burped, which produced an… entertaining example of infantile regurgitation all over the towel I had sensibly laid over my shoulder before starting the patting and rubbing process.
It was Elaine who brought the news from Sussex, as the trial ran its incredibly short course. We were hot-desking, or rather hot-armchairing, Gemma and her boyfriend departing just as Elaine and her wife arrived, so the seat use was almost seamless. Gem had, of course, left us some treats, so as I held Rhod and Siân did kettle duty, my old boss brought me up to date.
“It was a real can of worms, Di. Well, can of vermin, really. Annie’s OK, but she did say one of the culprits scared the shit out of her. Paramilitary type, aye?”
“Aye. Yeah. What in hell was all that about?”
“You filtering your language for the boy now, girl?”
“Yeah, sort of. Trying not to drop F-bombs, at least”
She took her cup from Siân, and waited for us all to settle before continuing.
“Getting a lot of this from our sister, aye? And Annie’s mad friend is filling in the gaps. Her friend is back at work, the one who got blown up. Light duties as yet, but apparently he has his sense of humour back. Nice guy, he is”
“What was it about, Lainey?”
“Sorry, side-tracked. His old girlfriend, that is what”
“You are taking the--- You are kidding!”
“Nope. Bit more than that, of course. Den’s whistleblowing met up with Annie’s kiddy fiddlers, and Den’s lot had contacts over the water who owed a favour. Their own lot shopped them, or at least two of them. Look how committed to peace and coexistence we are, and so on. I was going to say something about ‘bollocks’, but you’ve got me doing it now”
“You did say it, though”
“Oh, shut up. Anyway, there’s the old bitch behind the kiddy stuff, and she’s banged away with a woman called Helen Dodd, and it turns out she was actually engaged to Dennis for a while”
She paused, reaching for her wife’s hand.
“We have a cousin, Di. Vicky”
“I remember her from the trial. She was a bit ready to drop then”
Elaine looked at her wife, eyebrows raised, and the redhead nodded sharply. Elaine brought her hand to her lips and kissed it.
“Thanks, Cariad. Needs saying, I think, and Di is someone we can trust. Girl, Vicky has a lovely pair of kids, but she was pregnant once before. Nasty little shit she was with persuaded her to get rid of it, just before he dumped her”
“What a bastard!”
“Absolutely. Anyway, seems our Dennis isn’t like that. Got Dodd up the duff, so he being a soppy romantic, he does what he thinks of as the right thing, one knee, the lot, aye? And she says ‘yes’ just before trotting off to the family-planning clinic and doing what Vicky did”
I held my little man to me, and waited for my distaste to ease. Bastards. Both of them. Elaine wasn’t finished, though.
“Dodd is related somehow to the family Den dobbed in, the Cuthberts. I don’t know exactly how, but she’s one of them, and she doesn’t take being told ‘no’ easily. I think she was the real mover on that load of crap. Dennis is going to be a dad himself, and Kirsty, his missus, was involved in sorting the kiddy fiddlers, so, well, there you have it. Dodd lashing out”
I could see the envy there still, made worse by two women who had, for their own reasons, decided to dispose of their little passengers. I found myself speaking through gritted teeth
“What did the nice judge give the dear Ms Dodd, Lainey?”
She grinned, and it was just like Sammy at his most frightening.
“Oh, she avoided prison, girl”
“What the fuck? Sorry! Filter slipping. How?”
“She’s absolutely hatstand, Di. Off her trolley, aye? Secure accommodation, rest of her natural, I suspect. According to Kirsty, Den said she was always on the edge. Best place for her that isn’t six feet under, I would say”
She sat silent for a minute or so before brightening up.
“Anyway, what we were talking about the other day. Kev, that’s Vicky’s husband, he’s ready to book us a villa for the Summer. Greece again. You up for that? Nine go mad on moussaka?”
Siân laughed.
“You aren’t blonde anymore, so you won’t need so much sunblock”
Elaine lifted the edge of her wife’s hair, grinning.
“Don’t ask! We order a tanker delivery to the villa”
Lighter ground, thankfully, and of course we got the laptop out so that Elaine could log onto her photosharing account and give me the hard sales pitch.
I would need waterwings and sunhat for Rhod… Swimming cossie for me that covered Mummy-belly… Don’t mention it to Dad or I’d be deluged in guides and phrasebooks… Don’t mention it to Chris or I’d be given a full list of gay bars to investigate…
“Sounds good to me, ladies!”
CHAPTER 22
It wasn’t that easy, of course, as over the next few months our boy developed from what Elaine called ‘shit machine’ (“What? Not me! A friend said it, and she’s got three”) to someone more fully human.
That sounds callous, unmaternal, evil, pick your adjective; but I have heard it said that mother-love is nature’s way of stopping the new person from being smothered at birth, or at least at the first nappy change.
I never got used to the smell, but at least my nose got over its initial state of shock and accusation. Not only that, Rhodri Adam wasn’t as bad, in the end, as Blake and I had dreaded, and after a very few months he found his sleep pattern and drifted to align it with our own. Well, almost. I expressed milk when I could, and it was ready in the fridge for one of us to make the emergency bottle. By ‘one of us’, of course, I actually meant Blake; I would tend to plug Rhod onto my breast if it was that early, and fall asleep in a chair. For those first few months, I nearly forgot what sleep was like, or at least what it was like to experience it in a bed.
It got better, for he was soon able to respond in ways other than a screwed-up face and a scream, and as the first smiles and laughter appeared along with his personality, I was lost. I will not give out any of the traditional rubbish about completion and fulfilment, but as I came to love my boy I saw more and more clearly how my good fortune wounded others.
One thing, though, was a pain in itself, and that was the passport. Everyone has to have one now, if they wish to travel, and infants are no exception. Dad volunteered to take the photos, which was far from easy. We ended up waving something just to one side of the camera, so that Rhod would look that way, rather than spend five years of his life with a passport photo showing him either sleeping or screaming. In the end, the picture was a little over-exposed, but I didn’t care. Blake took the new passport into work to show the team, and reported back that the Office Blonde had said that our bald little man reminded her of a ‘white Malteser’.
I started keeping notes for later retribution. Her time would come.
The passport wasn’t the only thing that raised issues. If we were going to fly off to some sunny Greek island, I fully intended to go swimming, and my little treasure had left quite a mark on me in terms of that ‘mummy belly’. I will be the first to admit that I am not exactly the fair flower of the West, but I will admit that those months with Bridget had included an awful lot of men who had seemed to find me attractive. My job kept me fit and trim, but I would never match up to other women. Siân’s amazing hair, for example, or Candice’s stunning figure, or Ellen’s beautiful eyes…
In the end, I don’t believe Blake fell for me because of my looks, but until I have settled a bit more in the gut area, I am not wearing a bloody bikini. I looked online for swimming costume ideas, and realised I was far from the only woman bothered about her midriff. There were vast numbers of items with ‘tummy control bands’, just for starters, as well as many more with chest boosters. Sod that; I settled on a cossie that looked like racing kit, just with an elastic squeezy bit round the middle. It did the trick, it fitted, and I liked the colour. I did the retail therapy part of my shopping, rather than the utilitarian, by picking out some nice things for my men. A flower needs a decent setting. Besides which, I could use whatever I got them as Christmas presents.
Before we rolled up to Christmas, though, I had another surprise, and that was something I nearly missed. I was out with the boy and a gaggle of young women, sitting in a coffee shop bear the Pierhead, and as they passed round my treasure I was catching up on Paula’s latest instalment in the Graun. It was turning into a real eye-opener as her story progressed, and I was engrossed, Deb leafing through the rest of the paper as I discovered how easy my life had really been.
“Di?”
“Um?”
“This your mate?”
“Uh? What?”
“Here. Page six, review of the year, down the bottom”
I took the folded paper from her, and there, in full colour, was Annie, smiling with real joy and wearing what looked like full posh uniform, including a hat. The hat was a woman’s, and I had to assume that the rest of what she was wearing, outside the framing of the picture, included a skirt. I skimmed quickly over the article, and found my heart rate increasing.
“That is Annie, Deb. Spot on!”
“Aye. Queen’s award for gallantry stuff. That’s Buckingham Palace behind her, or at least the gates”
“How did I miss that? Shit! She deserved it, though”
“You going to look her up?”
I thought that one through as I folded the paper again. I really did not want to relive that story, and that was my answer.
“I don’t really think so, Deb. Said it all before, about old ghosts, but it’s more than that. She’s got a new life over there, in all sorts of ways, and some bloody good friends. People I don’t know”
Deb sat silently for a little while, looking out of the window and over the Bay. When she spoke again, her mood was almost distant.
“Aye, I see your point, girl. I have had a little of that myself, with the trial and that. I can remember Benny, as a kid, and it was great… It was necessary to see him again, see that he’s still there, still fighting, but it’s not the same. He’s not the same”
“You regret seeing him again?”
She turned back to me, her smile recovered.
“No, love. Not a bit. They are coming down for Christmas, staying up to Castle Street, behind the Stadium. Can’t have them in the house. No. What I meant was that it’s not the same thing when you meet again. Sometimes you can catch up, make it as if you’d never lost contact. Sometimes it’s like making a new old friend. Sometimes… Well, sometimes it’s like that old saying, you can’t go back”
“Which one is it with your friend?”
“Ah, second one, really. So much has happened to both of us, but we’re still the same people, just new ones. Same underneath, I mean; new skins? New scars?”
I nodded, and she took my hand.
“You are worried you’ll throw a spanner into it with Annie, aren’t you? Getting her life on track, and you walk in. You think she’s still the same person in all ways”
“I don’t know, Deb. I just think, you know: I was really getting a bit stuck on him, as she was, and she’s got a really good man now, or so I am told. No. Not fair. I saw him once, you know?”
“Sneaky style? When you went blonde?”
“Yeah. What I was going to say is that he IS a good man, but he must have some issues with, you know. Not saying he’s got the problem, inside sort of thing, isn’t it? But he’ll have friends, colleagues, and you show me this, and she’s not exactly out of the public eye. Can’t be easy for him”
She smiled at me, in an almost motherly way.
“Paul tells me you have a reputation, Di. No, not like that! He says you have a name for seeing how things fit together. Detail, aye? I can see what he means. Don’t change, girl. Don’t ever lose that”
She suddenly screwed her face up.
“But I do think your young man needs a bit of s change. What the hell has he been eating?”
I grinned, but it came with a wince of my own.
“Me, mostly”
I took Rhod from Charlie’s ginger hold, her own nose wrinkled in disgust, and to my surprise Tiff asked if she could come and help, which brought a guffaw from her friend.
“Take some tissues to stuff up your nose, Tiff!”
The single toilet in the café had a drop-down baby-changing platform, which I gave a wipe down with some anti-bacterial stuff from the Baby Bag I had to carry everywhere, and once I had his bottoms off, I unclipped the tags and…
“Sure you can cope, Tiff?”
“Is he always this smelly?”
“Oh yes! Open that bin for me?”
I dropped the offending item into the sanitary waste hopper, extremely grateful it had a secure lid that held the smell of any earlier deliveries, and began the clean-up of Rhod’s rear. He was giggling as I worked, and just as I got the area clean he let out some more wee.
I looked down at him, practising my Mother Stare.
“I could fall out of love, you know!”
Tiff’s eyes were wide in adoration as she looked down at my baby.
“No she couldn’t, little man!”
I turned the stare on her, and she simply gave it back until we both started to giggle. I gave her a careful one-arm-and-no-hands hug.
“Pass me a fresh one, love. Unless you want to put it on?”
“Wouldn’t fit me, would it?”
“You know what I meant!”
She smiled, nodded, and with careful instruction from me secured Rhod’s danger area, her grin a mile wide. We washed our hands, my son secure in the platform’s harness, before I gathered Tiff to me for a proper hug.
“Thanks, Tiff. Having friends is something I missed out on for a few years”
“Besties, yeah?”
“Besties. Now, back to the rest, and perhaps some chocolate fudge cake?”
“You are one sick puppy, Mrs Sutton!”
We walked back to the table grinning, and as I put the order in, Charlie got the joke immediately. Tiff just brought her slice of cake up to her nose, inhaled deeply, and said,
“Looks the same, but I think I can tell the difference!”
The pattern of my life, in one day. I had read so much about motherhood, and I suppose I take after Dad a bit in that I dive deeply into what some might consider trivia. Where he prepares for a trip with piles of maps and guide books, I trawl the net, and one thing that had jumped out at me was the risk of isolation. Too many new mothers, it seemed, saw nobody except their child for long periods, sometimes seeing no other humans for days. I had so many friends now, all of whom seemed to want to see my child (even if the number willing to follow Tiff’s lead was rather lower), that I was rarely on my own.
Christmas would have been more of the same, but we naturally spent it at the old house with Mam and Dad, and once more I found myself having to explain what it was I found funny, to my mother this time.
“Just realised, Mam, when Rhod starts talking, innit?”
“What exactly have you realised?”
“Well, you’re both going to be out of a job. Me and Blake, yeah? We’ll be Mam and Dad. Dunno about you two”
Dad looked up from yet another book on Venice.
“Bamps’ll do me, love. Ask your Mam what she wants”
I looked at her, and she giggled as she struck a pose.
“World peace and working with children, isn’t it?”
I raised an eyebrow, finding an ideal occasion to practise my Mother Stare again.
“And how many glasses have you had so far, young lady?”
She laughed so hard she started coughing, and pulled me over for a cuddle.
“Nana will do me fine, love. Now, shush. Time for the Queen”
I had consumed my own share of alcohol over our dinner, and as one old woman said worthy things to her nation, I thought of another woman who had stood before her, and sent her my happiest thoughts. Two smiles, one being that at her man’s arrival, the other from a page in the Guardian.
Never lose that joy, Annie.
CHAPTER 23
Late Spring saw Rhod walking, after a fashion, and myself back at work, which was both a delight and a pain. A delight and a pain in both cases, I should add, for while my boy was most definitely becoming his own person, his new-found mobility was a mixed blessing indeed.
I had never lived with a cat before, so I had been most attentive when Blake had talked me through Cat Defence for Beginners.
“They love to push things, love. Patch of sunlight to lie in, and they’ll clear it. Best china out for a posh meal? You’ll find it on the floor. Fritz likes to watch the world from the windowsill, so we leave it clear of anything breakable”
He had laughed before explaining how cats had actually disproved the nonsense about a flat Earth.
“If it was really flat, the little sods would have pushed everything off the edge by now”
It was rather like that with our son, because while his reach might not match his grasp, when it came to things on dining tables his grasp could most certainly reach a table cloth and, by extension, anything and everything on it.
Mam did so much for us then, looking after the little one when we were both back on the treadmill. I realised how important extended families were, and while ours only extended to my parents I ended up with a little swarm of babysitters as half of Deb’s household joined the roster.
These were, after all, people that I trusted now, implicitly. It wasn’t girliness with them, not a case of real-life dolly games, but something deeper. Gemma and Tiff in particular seemed to melt when they held him, and visits from the Powells were almost painful in the obvious need seeping from the pores of both women.
Two welcome developments were linked, as Rhodri Adam Sutton moved from milk to solid food and as a result from Almighty Stench to potty time. Our nostrils sent up prayers of gratitude. I know that Tiff did a lot of the coaxing for his potty training, and I know exactly what her motivation was. That time in the coffee shop had clearly left scars.
My first day back, I walked into the office to find it decorated with banners welcoming me back, a round of hugs briefly given and strict instructions to “Take one of the unmarked ones and get over to Gemma’s, woman!”
I was halfway to our little key cupboard when Sammy called after me.
“Oh, sit down, you silly woman! Candice, they’re in the stationery cupboard”
Familiar boxes with some of Gem’s specialities, and one cake, iced with a simple message: welcome home Di.
I will admit I got a little weepy, and as ever the Office Blonde was there with comforting arms and a tissue, while Alun made some sort of filthy joke which I will not repeat here. Suffice it to say it involved various ways of putting weight on, one of which involved a fight between calories and, er, vigorous horizontal exercise.
Sammy was right: I was home again.
“Got a small one for you, Di. Right up your street, I would say. Been a series of blags on bookies over to Swansea and Bridgend, and we need to filter the CCTV footage. Rob and Ellen have the discs collated, and Rhys and Jon have pulled as many of the street footage ones we can still find. Usual problem”
I grinned at my boss.
“Let me guess: street coverage deleted after so many days?”
“Yeah. Shops have kept theirs, of course. A blag’s a blag, and they want it for insurance and that. I know, boring stuff, isn’t it? I just wanted to let you find your feet steady like”
He knew me so well, and in the end it was almost like being back with the boys from my stint with CID. I found myself sinking into that old contemplative state, almost like a form of Zen meditation. I remember once speaking to someone about bird-watching, and they explained how they left their mind wandering, eyes almost out of focus as they let their ears and their peripheral vision pick up details their conscious mind might have missed. It was like that with the camera records, and after the first three days of ‘welcome home, stranger!’ I was back in that semi-awake state again as Jon and anyone else available, including the boss, kept me well-provided with tea and snacks. Home, indeed.
My toilet breaks were my sole moments of people-watching. Not actually people-watching in the toilets, of course, but as I settled back down to my work, I could take a few seconds to watch the other team members. Rhys and Jon were clearly past their beginnings, comfortable with each other and clearly so in front of their friends and colleagues. Alun just looked tired and as unkempt as ever, and I made a mental note to see how many of his nights were being spent in a certain Intelligence Officer’s little realm. I would give him ‘vigorous exercise’, the cheeky bastard.
Three days in, and another blag, and it was just like the others. Two men walk in, both with balaclavas on, one points what is clearly a firearm at the cashier. Wind back…
Yes. Both of the men looked directly at the camera, just a quick glance, but they clearly knew exactly where it was.
“Sammy?”
“Yes, mate?”
“Got something”
He had his nicer grin on as he joined me at the viewer.
“You never disappoint, girl. What you got?”
I wound the footage backwards and forwards.
“See? They aren’t looking for a camera, they are looking right at it, isn’t it? The shops got any earlier footage? Perhaps over the previous couple of days?”
“Ah! What is it the Septics call it? Casing the Joint?”
“Exactly. I’ll print off as much as I can of them from this, then we comb customers”
“Do that, and pass it to the fresh meat. Time you were off home to sonny boy. If we get anything this afternoon, I’ll give you a shout at home, if that’s OK?”
“As always, boss”
I packed up, switching my personality from ‘hard-faced copper’ to ‘Mummy dearest’ as I did so, and made my way home, where Mam was supervising a smiling Tiff in basic food preparation for infants and how to ensure it ended up being eaten rather than worn. I felt almost schizophrenic, in the popular sense, with two distinct personalities vying for primacy, but at the first squeal of ‘Mam!’ from my little man I was healed.
Not a word from Sammy that night, but when I returned in the morning I found Jon and Lexie leaving the office, eyes red-rimmed. They mumbled something as they walked out, and I gave Sammy the raised eyebrows.
“They pulled an all-nighter, girl”
“Whose bloody idea was that?”
“Theirs, actually. They’ve left us a case file. Have a look. Alun’s down with the LIO already”
I hoped he’d hidden his bedroll…
The file left by the two fresh meat was a bloody good one, for they hadn’t just looked at the single shop I had meditated over but followed up on three others. In each case, they had printed off stills of the armed blaggers, three of the shots showing what looked very like a sawn-off shotgun, but what were very obviously pictures of the same scum in the shop a day or two beforehand. Same clothes, same posture, standing at a fixed odds machine and looking over their shoulders directly at the cameras. Neck tattoos, one on two out of four hands. You little beauties.
Alun was back in an hour with two file cards and two more case files, each bearing a mugshot or six. He looked up at me and grinned.
“You taught that kid well, Di. Sammy?”
“Yeah?”
“How we playing this one? I think we really need to pass it on”
“What we got, mate?”
“Two shits from Pontyclun is what. Father and bloody son, no less. Keeping it a family game”
“Thought that was incest!”
“Na, that’s relatively boring”
Alun was kind enough to let the groans die down before he switched his professional head back on.
“Trevor and Leo Dollard, Cerdin Avenue. Sonny boy has form for robbery, ABH, possession of bladed article, affray, possession with intent Class A and B. usual driving stuff. Dad’s similar, ex squaddy. On nested bans for driving not in accordance with his licence, insurance, failing to provide a specimen and some old stuff from years back about threats to kill. Lovely boys”
On cue, everyone in the room came back with “Oh dear, how sad, never mind” and Alun just grinned, looking a lot more cheerful.
“So, mighty leader, who do we give this to?”
Sammy thought for a couple of seconds.
“I’ll have a word with Bev Williams, but I think, well, yeah. CID’s pigeon; let then do all the boring shit. Anyone want to go along when we wake them up with the big red key?”
What the hell.
“I would, boss, along with some of the fresh meat, if that’s OK?”
“Fine by me. Just remember this will be a firearms team lead and you are there to observe. CID need to do some work for a change. Rob, Ellen? Can you pull all this shit together with Alun and get us a package to hand over to the leather jacket crew? Rhys, take Jonny Boy for a drive-by; give us a picture of what we have. Entry and exit points, you know the score”
Two days of hard graft followed, as we pulled all the evidence together into a coherent whole and trawled through the footage again looking for more images of our two suspects. Finally, on a moist Sunday morning, I left my husband and son in bed after a brief but sharp disagreement about sticking my neck out, and with a double espresso dumped into a latte I joined the others for a briefing. Numbers, addresses, satellite pic of the street, and still just barely light outside.
Our convoy out to the house left me thinking of that day with Chris in a van, the smell of the CS and the sound of broken glass under my feet. Not this time, though. The forced entry and firearms team would do that bit, CID the paperwork and evidence tagging. I looked round in my seat, catching Lexie’s and Jon’s attention.
“Stay well back, mates. Let those lads do their bit, keep out of the way of CID. Observers this time, right?”
They both nodded, and we pulled up in Castan Road. Two firearms officers made their way down the alley behind the back gardens as the rest of us trotted round the corner. My radio earpiece caught the skipper’s terse “GO! GO! GO!” and three of the entry team took the door, two pushing it in at top and bottom while the third swung the Big Red Key at the lock. It took four blows before the sodding thing went in, and as the officer doing the ramming stepped aside, his colleagues went in hard and fast.
“ARMED POLICE! SHOW YOURSELVES!”
The radio calls came in quickly.
“Ground floor clear!”
“Back bedroom, one detained!”
“Front bedroom, two detained!”
The CID lads went in next, the three of us following, as the call came from the entry team.
“House secure, but you will want to look in the loft, lads!”
The house was a tip, two of the downstairs windows in the rear boarded up, recently from the look of things. We stood in the living room, trying to keep out of the way as a firearms-trained spaniel did his thing, and as he moved upstairs we happily ‘observed’ as our colleagues did all the heavy lifting and listing. I could get used to this, I thought.
A second dog disappeared upstairs with its handler, and as we followed it we met Alun’s old boss coming down the stairs, grinning happily.
“Hiya, Di! You’ll love this!”
“What we got, sir?”
“Harry, girl. We have Dad and Lad locked up, along with the son’s squeeze. Looks like they were not that well-acquainted before last night, but found the path of true love lying before them---"
“Cut to the bloody chase, Harry!”
He grinned happily.
“Bloody good job she was with him. Weapon was under her side of the bed, and he was climbing over her when we came in. Could have been nasty without her in the way. Sawn-off, as we thought, and loaded. Sword by Dad’s bedside, home-made spear and a baseball bat by the bedroom door”
He snorted just then, snorted in an attempt to hold back his laughter.
“Attic’s the thing, Di. Got a farm up there. About fifty plants, looks like”
Jon and Lexie looked at each other, and Lexie asked the obvious question.
“What the buggery bollocks are they doing armed robbery for if they’re farming cannabis?”
The DI wrestled his laughter back down to a safe state.
“That’s the thing, girl. Those windows downstairs? With the boards over? This is, or would have been, their second crop. The first one got ripped off by another firm! They couldn’t afford to replace the lamps and fans and shit, and so…”
We were chuckling all the way back to the Central nick. It was a good result. Two armed robbers, a firearm, multiple other weapons and a cannabis farm.
And nobody hurt.
CHAPTER 24
We left the CID and firearms boys at the Central nick after quickly putting together our statements. We may have been there to ‘observe’, but what we had observed still had to be noted.
Sammy met us in James Street, which was unusual.
“What are you doing in on a Sunday, Sammy?”
He grinned, as was his way.
“Bev Williams is in as well. Bloody good result, and he wants a word. A nice one, I believe”
The grin dropped into a smile.
“And I have pastoral duties, sort of. Jon? Mind if we have a quick chat?”
My boy looked over at Lexie and me.
“Lexie? Want to wait for us in the Greasy? Ta. Sammy? I suspect I know what you want a chat about, so could Di stay with us?”
Sammy nodded, leading the way to an interview room. Once sat down, he turned to me, smile still in place, but a soft and gentle one.
“Di, mate, this is a necessary thing here. Personal stuff with Jon, so if you would rather not hear it, you can walk out any time. Nothing to worry about; I just need to do the manager bit. Are you fine with that?”
I looked over at Jon, and he just nodded at me, so I turned back to Sammy and gave him a ‘go on’ signal. He switched his gaze to Jon but carried on talking to me.
“Di, mate. This boy has been worrying me. I call him fresh meat, and he is, and that’s the problem. I am not belittling what happened to you, and I only mention it now because the team was so involved in it, but you had a taste of how shitty the world can be before you even started. Jon here is VERY fresh meat, though I think Rhys might describe him as game and well hu--- no. Too cheeky, that one, and I have to be serious.
“Son, I was watching what that last case did to you. Keep your mouth shut for a minute, Di, but I suspect he was thinking of chucking the job in, and that would be a crying shame. Am I right, Jon?”
My boy was looking at the table, and without raising his eyes simply nodded.
Sammy shook his head, and sighed.
“Just like bloody Adam Price, you are. Annie. Shit; still can’t get my head around that business, but never mind. Adam, Annie, bloody good copper, fucking good human being. That gong she got is well overdue, aye? She’s not like you, DC Sutton, and don’t take that the wrong way”
He looked back at me, smile gone.
“You are one hard woman when you need to be. Elaine told me how you tore up hubby for arse paper almost on the first day, and Annie never had that. Both of you, all three of you, you care, and you are honest and open about it, and that is beyond price in this job”
Jon looked up at that.
“Yeah, but I can’t do the heavy stuff, can I?”
Sammy threw his hands up.
“Jesus fucking Christ on a crutch, son! You not know I listened to your interview of that piece of fucking shit Cooper? Sorry. Language, but, well, piss off! He tried to get friendly with you, right at the start, and you ripped him a new arsehoile. Bang!”
He took a few deep breaths, centring himself.
“Sorry, you two. This was meant to be a gentle chat, but I have had very little sleep because I have been waiting to hear how this morning’s job went. I wasn’t worried about the girl, because I knew Harry and Di would make sure she was kept on a leash, well out of the way. I WAS worried about you, son, and that is why I wanted you along on this one. See some classic scum rather than nothing but nonces and rapists”
He paused for some more slow, calming breaths.
“Jon, Di understands, I think, where we are at the moment. You have been thinking of jacking the job in, thinking you aren’t up to it, and I am here to tell you before you say anything to the Super or anyone else: I do not want you to do that. I want you on my team. I want people around me who care about what they do, who recognise they are dealing with human beings who can be hurt, rather than pieces of evidence. That is the danger in this cold case game, that we forget why we are employed, what the Job should be about. If it hurts, it shows you have the right sort of feelings”
Jon tried to smile.
“Yeah, but this job was Di’s. she’s the one who broke it”
Sammy nodded.
“Yeah, she did. That’s part of her talent. Who was it who sat up all night and took on the leg work, though? We are a team, son. We all have things the team can use, things it needs. We need you”
Another pause, and then the grin resurfaced.
“Besides, Rhys would pine, and he’d have to pay for all his commuting again”
Jon blushed, as Sammy had intended, and Sammy reached over the table to take his hand.
“Stay with us, mate. We need you. Now: the Super is meeting us in the Greasy, so if you don’t mind I would like a quick yea or nay from you, Jon. You sticking with us?”
Jon looked up, eyes sparkling just a little.
“Yeah, suppose so. Be rude not to. While I’m here, I will let you know that the two of us are looking to make it formal. Looking to do a Blake and Di. No date yet, but, well, I am up for it and so is he, and Sammy: shut it before you say what I know you want to”
I looked over at my no-longer-fresh meat, raising my eyebrows, Mam-style.
“And you are OK, Jon? Really OK?”
He shook his head from side to side, Indian-style, and Sammy snorted.
“Ah, I think so. Bowles threw me, and then that shit Cooper. You know how that made me feel. Sammy’s right, though. I look at the Elliott family, Brian Dennahy as well, yeah? I just wish I had their strength”
Sammy squeezed his hand.
“You have, son. You just need to realise that fact. Now, Bev will be waiting. Dry your eyes, son, and do you want a dog roll or a bacon one?”
We all stood up, and Sammy stepped forward to hug Jon, then offered the same to me, which I gratefully accepted. I had been so lucky in my managers since day one, and there was no way I would let petty rules get in the way of our bonds. The Greasy turned out to be almost empty, in that odd gap between the breakfast and the I-can’t-quite-wait-for-lunchtime crowds. Williams was sitting at a table with Lexie, and some very clear but unspoken signals flicked from him to Sammy and back. It turned out that the sensible woman had already arranged a plate of dog and bacon rolls for us, but she was busy enough getting outside a couple of slices of cheese on toast. Sammy grabbed a round of teas as I mused on the unhealthy nature of our diet, Mummy bellies and swimming costumes.
The cuppa didn’t touch the sides, and Sammy sighed happily as he finished his own.
“Elaine Powell set us up with an urn, sir. Absolute godsend on a heavy job. Anyway, told this lot you were pleased with the results and that you were too impatient to wait till Monday to tell them so”
The Super grinned. “Cheeky as you are, Harry still beat you to it. Do we have a lead yet on who the other crew were? Be nice to make a clean sweep of it”
Sammy waved his mug at Lexie, and she smiled and went to get another round of brews.
“Inspector Gadget and his henchman are on their way over. SOCO, Di. Same two lads as did all that work over to the Crossways place”
I found myself grinning at the memory. If anyone’s mind worked along the same odd track mine was supposed to, it was those two lads. Well, those two and the LIO, of course, but if I ever found myself acting like the Local Intelligence Officer with his catalogue of Other Distinguishing Features, the last distinction I would make in the Job would be my early departure while still in possession of a personality.
It was as relaxed a session as it could be, given the weight of brass on one of the chairs, and we broke up after the second round of teas, each heading off to their own more normal Sunday activities, which in my case would have meant a nap but ended up as a sort of animate trampoline for a rather hyper infant.
I still wouldn’t have swapped him for anything, though; not for the world and all its riches.
Two weeks later, and without our presence as observers, Harry and his boys, backed up once more by dogs and firearms team, hit four addresses at once, including a nail bar in Bridgend that was actually next door to one of the bookies the first gang had robbed. Sixteen arrests, ye gods. My head was spinning, and almost took flight as Ellen explained how and why the case now involved Vietnamese interpreters and the Border Force’s Modern Slavery team.
I found myself, just for once, sharing Jon’s little boat, disgusted by the whole nature of what we were dealing with. Cardiff had never had the notoriety of Bristol as a slave port, but the city’s incredibly diverse community still had a lot of wounds, sensitive places, and one of the nastiest was that S-word. Ellen didn’t need to spell it out, but she did, and I realised that she too needed to purge her distaste.
“Yeah, Di, they come in on tourist visas, Chinese and Vietnamese mostly, and they’ve paid up front to get over here. Traffickers say they’ll have a job, so they just disappear after passports, and then it’s the same old same old. Their passports are taken off them, and whatever [ay they were promised is taken straight back for accommodation and food charges. Sleep eight or nine to a room, yeah? Work a whacky farm in some house with jury-rigged wiring, or in one of those nail bars, or if they’re really unlucky they pick cockles on some death-trap of a tidal mud flat”
She cocked her head, then turned away from me to look out of the window, voice hushed almost to a whisper.
“Or they end up like that Paula, yeah? Or worse. I think that was what they were planning for little Tiffany, Charlie…”
Her voice trailed off and then, still looking away from me, she spoke again.
“I am just glad we have people around us here who bloody well care, girl. Thank you for talking that silly little boy into staying with us. I couldn’t work with people who don’t understand priorities”
She shook herself, turned back to me, and grinned.
“Anyway, got this evening planned out. Bottle of big red—or is that a big bottle of red? Anyway, pizza, wine, soppy video”
Her grin widened.
“And if it goes well, I won’t get to see any of the video at all!”
“Uh? Oh!”
“Yup! Drinking alone is dangerous, so I will have company”
CHAPTER 25
Waterstone’s may be a huge and faceless chain of book shops, but I have always found the staff quirky, especially in a University town like Cardiff. I suppose a lot of jobs in what is referred to as ‘retail’ are like that, more so when the items sold are niche stuff. There is a cliché image of record shop employees, or employees in goth or hippy clothing shops, merging with the merchandise, and while I will leave the comparison there (and avoid all mention of employees in, er, ‘Adult’ shops), Cardiff Waterstone’s is absolutely in that league.
I don’t want to get into a discussion of retail politics: I just know that when I was at Uni, the Cardiff staff were cheerful, approachable and bloody knowledgeable. And they have chairs and a café for a test-drive of any book you are thinking of buying. That smell of coffee, cake and printed books is something that electronic books can never compare with, and it was in that atmosphere that Paula launched her book with a signing session on the ground floor.
The manager had provided her with a table, and the little café was keeping her coffee needs filled. I picked up two copies from the pile by the door and joined what was clearly an enthusiastic queue.
She was head down so much of the time, scribbling dedications inside copies as people asked her questions, and when I handed my books to her she simply asked “What names shall I put them to?”
“One to ‘Deb and her girls’, and one to ‘Di and the team’, love”
She looked up in surprise, breaking into a huge grin before standing to reach across her little table for a hug.
“Di! Great! How long are you here for?”
“Got an hour. Hubby’s got the kid down by the Pierhead, reading the Ianto Shrine’s latest and watching the boats”
She called across to a girl with a face full of metal.
“Sabbie, could I have another chair? And some hot choc?”
Back to me, with a broad grin.
“Deb told me about you and hot chocolate. You will sit with me, woman. Resistance is useless. Jazz and nell have already done their stint. Ta, Sabbie. Sit, Di!”
That was am eye-opener, in so many ways, because Paula was so different in her manner to how she had been at our first encounter. There are what my lecturers had referred to as schemata, standard pieces of narrative, and one of those is the brass, an old name for a tom. Prostitute, whore. Brassy and aggressive, but Dai had told me how often that hardness was a shell, and a thin one at that, covering a broken and trembling soul.
Paula wasn’t like that in Waterstone’s, as her confidence held no trace of the metal. It was indeed confidence, a calm and steady demeanour that spoke of relaxation and comfort in her new life. I sipped the quickly-delivered hot goodness as she smiled, signed and answered questions both appreciative and, occasionally, bloody stupid, such as the few customers who asked where she had got the idea for the book from. The first one I heard ask that one received quite a response.
“Oh, it was when I was a little girl, and I got raped by a big man. Who would you like me to sign this for again?”
The next one who got that answer looked at me, and asked an even stupider question.
“You on the game as well?”
I simply smiled and shook my head.
“No, not me, and nor is this lady any more”
The lady in question flashed me a smile.
“No, my good friend here is just one of the team who nicked our rapist and banged him away for life. Who is it for again?”
Her mood was suddenly so clear to me: happiness, pure and simple. That faltered ever so slightly when one woman asked a sensible question.
“I read your serialisation in the Guardian, Miss. Can I ask a personal question?”
Paula laughed at that, but there was a hint of worry in it.
“To be honest, I think the book itself is more than a bit personal”
The customer was around sixty, plump and mumsy-looking, and she sighed at Paula’s answer.
“I know you, love. I mean, well, I don’t know you, but I live out by Splott, isn’t it, and I think I remember you from there. Whatever the weather, aye? Shitty way to live, pardon my French. I…”
She paused, and then reached across to take Paula’s hand.
“How do you cope, now?”
Paula laced her fingers into the other woman’s.
“Friends, my love. Decent people, like Diane here, and my fiancé. People who care, people who see past the outsides, who give other people a chance rather than writing them off.”
Suddenly she laughed.
“Oh, and as I said earlier, that and seeing Ashley Aaron Evans get banged away for life!”
Another smile from the customer.
“Used to drive past your corner after work. You might remember. Left you a cuppa once or twice, when it was bad out, like”
My friend’s eyes opened as wide as her mouth.
“Oh my god! I remember you as well! I… Shit, some of those nights, I think those hot drinks were the only thing between me and Casualty, or even worse. Di, I had some very bad nights over the years, and…”
She wrestled back a sob, with real difficulty, then scribbled quickly on a piece of paper.
“What do I call you, my love?”
“I’m Glenys Kiernan, love”
Paula wrote in the fly-leaf of the book Glenys had offered: ‘To Glenys Kiernan, who saved my life more than once, with love and gratitude’, then passed her book and paper.
"Those are my contact details, Glenys. At some point we will be getting wed, my man and I, and I would like to be able to send you an invitation”
The older woman laughed.
“Weddings are for family, dear!”
Paula smiled.
“Exactly. Hang on... that hubby over there, Di?”
Blake was walking towards us, child in one arm and folded pushchair in the other.
“Hi, love. Getting chilled?”
“Aye, a bit. Hiya, Paula! Know anywhere I can heat up some food for the boy?”
The metal-faced girl called across to us.
“The café will do it for you, mate”
Blake turned his grin on Paula.
“Feet under the table right proper, girl?”
She rose for a hug, Glenys looking on bemused, and Paula turned to the three or four people remaining in line.
“Thank you all for turning up. I am honoured. I am not leaving, simply going to the café so I can spend some time helping these nice police officers with their enquiries… on where to give their son a warm meal. If anyone wants to join us, I will probably be chatting, but I will still be happy to sign copies of my book. Sabbie?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you point anyone else upstairs for me?”
The young girl just grinned, holding up a piece of A4 paper she had hand-lettered ‘Book signer refuelling upstairs’, which said it all. A happy little lunchtime for all of us and, after a few introductions, Glenys left us alone as well as leaving us her contact details.
Such a difference in her, such bounce and confidence. She caught my stare, and smiled.
“Yeah, Deb says what you’re probably thinking. It’s horizons, Di. I can see further now, further than just the next sleep. Or next fix, if I’m being honest. It’s a big thing, having a future, or at least being able to see one. That old woman, yeah? Glenys? I ask myself if she really understands, even now, what she did for me. So easy, it would have been…”
She was looking away, lost in memory, as Rhod devoured warmed sludge and Blake squeezed my hand gently.
“It was like… Did you know, that family? The ones you and Deb met? Did you know one of them has a book out?”
I nodded. “Yeah, Brian Dennahy’s got one in the pipeline”
“No, not him. The man, Elliott. Steve?”
“Stevie, I think they called him”
“Yeah. That one. About the home in Carlisle he was in with that…”
She looked down at Rhod, and smiled once more.
“Filtering my language already, I am. Anyway, where that person you went up to see was; Deb’s friend”
“Charles Cooper”
“Yes, that one. Stevie is very clear in his book, you know, about finding a way out, and that was me. You know, I spoke to a shrink for a while; I still do. We talked about this, and he said it was never a sensible choice, and I said he was talking out of his fundament, and me and that man, we were in the same place, but they made sure he never got the chance. Suicide, my friends. That was me, but every time my owner saw me getting there he’d find a but of gear, just enough to get me off my face for a while, or someone like Glenys would see, and be human, humane, aye?
“I had all sorts of ideas, you know. Into the Taff, off a bridge, that sort of thing. I would have OD’d, if I could, but Mo was always sharp on that one. Never left me with more than just enough to put me in a happy place, or at least a numb one. That was what my future was, Di. How on Earth do I get that across to someone like Glenys? One little bit of kindness can make so much difference”
There was a cough, and of course someone was standing there with a book to sign, and there was a flicker in Paula’s eyes as she looked at another woman, this one looking very pale.
“Who to, Miss?”
“Can you just write ‘To Moira’, please, Paula?”
Paula’s gaze rose slowly from the table.
“Moira? Red Moira?”
“Stopped dying it now, butt. Yeah, that Moira”
Paula was hardly able to form words, and the other woman just held up her hands.
“Butt, I was listening just then, isn’t it? I’m not the only one, me. Off the streets, got a drug management programme, and I feel like shit, so I am off to see my social worker now, but just, yeah? You showed us the way. That is precious to all of us. It’s that future you were just talking about”
Paula stood for an embrace, and Moira stepped back.
“Sorry, but no. Picked up a few souvenirs from that life, and there’s a kiddy here, so I don’t want to risk, you know. I’ll be off, but you go, girl. You showed us the way, and those of us with the strength, well, we’re following. You have a fucking good life, and remember: we all owe you”
She was gone, and Blake was in my handbag for tissues as Paula wept.
CHAPTER 26
Paula looked round the table, her eyes lingering on Rhod, and I could read her mind. ‘Souvenirs’, Moira had said, and I had to assume she meant one or more varieties of hepatitis. I had read the briefings, spoken to enough girls; was it dirty needles, or simply taking the extra cash for bareback sex from dirty men? It wouldn’t have been HIV, because she almost certainly knew it is nowhere near as contagious as good, old-fashioned liver death.
Once more, I found myself cursing Ashley Evans. I mean, it wasn’t his fault, not all of it, but he would stand as a placeholder for me, the bastard. Change the subject.
“So when’s the big day then, Paula?”
“Dunno! We still have a lot to do, me and him. Sounds amazing that… You ever found it such a big thing, you two? Being able to say ‘us’ instead of just talking about yourself in the singular?”
Blake looked up from cleaning the boy’s face.
“Careful, Paula. That study is leaking out”
She laughed, and once more it was with happiness.
“Oh, mate, you wouldn’t believe it! I spent so many bloody years trying to fit in with the girls and the punters, to lose that public schoolgirl voice, vocabulary, whatever”
I held up a finger, simply saying “Lexis and register” before grinning at them both.
“Look, I did a bloody languages degree, so you can both bugger off. Choice of words, choice of style. Both best used as appropriate to where one is and who with. Sometimes the non-verbal aspects are more important”
My sweet husband made some remark about the non-verbal aspects of pepper spray, baton, Evans and Pritchard, and the mood remained nicely broken.
“So, date? Tell, girl!”
“Well, a lot to do just now. Paul needs clearance from some sort of ethics body before we can actually set the time and place, but no, it’s not a provisional engagement. Trust me on that one. Trust him as well”
“And you do”
“Oh, yes. One decision I made… No, that was going to come out wrong. I have made a lot of decisions in my life, but most of them weren’t made freely. This is a free choice, but it’s not the big decision I am talking about”
My man’s voice was so, so gentle just then.
“When you decided to take a chance, love? Come round with him to Deb’s?”
“When I first decided to get into his car, decided that he wasn’t going to try and shake me down, get a freeby, or simply drive me all the way out of the city and leave me in the middle of nowhere. Yeah, there are coppers who do all of that shit. That was my big decision. And you know how I knew when I had made the right choice? It wasn’t when he took me to a caff and bought me something decent to eat, a hot drink. No. It was when he talked, and it wasn’t about me, but it was, aye? Not about shopping people, just about letting him know if the other girls were having problems, nasty punters, things like that. No condemnation of us for being on the game, none at all, no value judgements, no morality tales. Just a polite request to let him know if there was anything he could do for us to keep the unnecessary shit away”
She paused, then smiled once more.
“A proper copper, like you two, and your mates. The way it should be”
There wasn’t much else we could say to that, so we wrapped up our boy and left her to her signing, taking with us more than one book of our own. By that, I mean one for Mam and Dad; the rest of the team could get their own editions, and I was pretty sure they would be doing so.
Spring came and went, and so much of it was occupied by odd little cases that involved free association, odd insights and the occasional visit by my brother-in-law, although I suspect he was drawn more to Rhod than me, the cheeky so-and-so.
It was one particular investigation that Candice cracked that showed how useful our networking had become, a case involving bikes. The odd thing was that it covered both bicycles and motorcycles, and while it left me doing what seemed to be my party piece and looking through almost endless hours of video, it was the Office Blonde who saw the link for the first thefts and her Fresh Meat Lexie who followed both our leads onto offence number two.
Candice was, well, candid about where she had got her inspiration from. The thefts had been legion, and involved both sorts of bikes disappearing almost wholesale from a couple of parking areas.
“Well, years ago, I was seeing this biker, going out for a few rides together, and yes, Alun, some of them were THAT sort of ride! Anyway, he was a Geordie, down here on a short-term contract, so we would go out to odd places, usually biker sort of things, and we’d been off to some weekend in Weston Super Mare”
Lexis had snorted.
“Bloody high life, innit?”
“Yeah, and love you too, and your arse does look big. Where was I? Oh, yeah. We had been kicked out of some big pub on the sea front for being evil baby-eaters or something, and we’d found this wine bar, of all sorts of place, in a back street. There was a multi-storey car park behind it, and a sort of triangle of pavement between the way in and the way out, so that gradually got covered in bikes”
Jon had raised a hand.
“Yes, Mrs Rhys?”
“Piss off, woman. Anyway, didn’t the bar owner think you were going to rape his hamster or bit the head off his poodle or some such?”
“Na, place went from empty to forty or fifty paying customers in ten minutes, and he wasn’t stupid. Anyway, ma and Bear, no, Lexie, B-E-A-R, we are looking out the window at all the bikes, and he gets to musing about home. Place he called Westgate Hill”
She had paused to take a mouthful of tea, her grin threatening to make it rather a difficult process, then continued.
“He told me one story, which I will leave to another day, but both tales were about bike thieves. This Hill place, it’s apparently THE biker area of Newcastle. Motorcycle dealer next to leather shop next to chip shop next to tattooist next to bike breaker’s next to porn shop”
Jon had laughed out loud.
“Everything for the spotty yoof in one place, then?”
“Absolutely, Jonny Boy! And out the back was a big car park with a smaller bike park, and that was the problem, that and the fetish clothing place”
She’d let the silence linger just long enough to let the confusion settle into her audience.
“There were Council CCTV rigs by the car park, but they were the sort that could swivel, track, pan, whatever the word is. Lots of young girls shopping for fishnets and leather microskirts, all tits and hair. Operators spent more time perving than serving. Anyway, the bikes kept disappearing from the bike spaces, and it wasn’t till they got a bit of a hint through story number two that they realised the nicked bikes were only moving about two hundred yards, to a breaker’s. Frame and log book scam”
That one had lost me completely, and Candice had grinned happily.
“Gotcha, Di! Old DVLA game; you could buy a motorcycle frame with a registration document. Older bikes just listed the frame number, so all the expensive bits like engine and bodywork can be swapped from a nicked bike and bingo, one apparently kosher motor. Now, if we were to speak to our Queen of Driver and Vehicle Licensing, and perhaps your bro-in-law, and look at the financial performance of a few local firms…”
She had been spot on, of course, and we ended up with a short-list of local firms to run past Chris at the DVLA and Sean at Revenue and Customs. I got handed the time-lapse job: watch the footage of the bike park until the operator decided to stock up his wank bank, then see which bikes had moved and run their numbers through our ‘reported stolen’ database.
Two directors and four of their staff jailed for a sizeable term, and one CCTV operator handed his cards. I had been more than a little curious as to why we had been handed the file, as we were supposedly a ‘serious’ crime unit, but that confusion vanished once I saw how much some of the bikes cost. That shock was only amplified when I read the list prices of the bloody pushbikes we were then tasked with!
Lexie was the one to crack that one, when she spotted the equivalent of a two-wheeled Bugatti on sale in a local second-hand shop for £100. She pulled together the Blonde’s ideas, and yet again we delivered a neatly-packaged file to what I was thinking of as our clients. I couldn’t imagine a better job.
Candice didn’t release part two of the story for a few weeks, and it took a few drinks before she let slip, in a team session at the Eli Jenkins, Rhod with my parents.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t want to get the lad into trouble, do I?”
Lexie was feeling her own oats by then, and her remark about ‘Bear’ getting Candice into trouble met with a round of applause. Blondie held up her hands in surrender.
“OK! So, the bike park, yeah? There’s this lad walks across to see some bloke working on a bike. Got the saddle off, the side panel, doing something with a screwdriver and pliers, and so the lad says “Nice bike, pal’, and the man says, ‘Yeah it is’. ‘What’s it do, then, flat out, like?’ And the man says he doesn’t know, cause he’s never had it flat out, and the lad says ‘No, you haven’t, cause it’s my bike’ and then proceeds to kick nine colours of shit out of him”
Rhys was nodding in as sober a way as he could, which, to be honest, wasn’t that sober at all.
“Makes sense to me, woman. So where was Naked?”
“Bear, you sod. Anyway, so there’s this lad, rolling round the floor as he gets a faceful of Doc Marten, and there’s other bikers come across to see what it’s about, and when they’re told he was nicking bikes, what else can they do but help out?”
She took a long pull on her drink.
“Would have been worse if a lad from Traffic hadn’t come by on his Beemer and asked what was going on”
Rhys snorted. “And then?”
“Well, they told the copper it was a thief getting a licking, so he nods and buggers off!”
Lexie was next.
“And bloody Bareback? Where was he?”
Candice put a hand across her mouth.
“My lips are sealed, but he may have been on a BMW at the time”
It was confirmed: I really couldn’t imagine a better job, nor better people to work with.
CHAPTER 27
I really don’t know where that year went, but the school holidays were soon on us and so was our boy’s first ever trip abroad. We had taken a load of pictures of him, trying to get something suitable for his passport, and in the end the best we could manage made my son look rather like a white Malteser.
We flew from Cardiff this time, meeting the others at a coffee shop before check-in. It was slightly odd, as I remembered Vicky from the trial, but had never really got to know her husband Kevin, and then there were two hyperactive children to engage with, Tara Elaine and Kevin Twm. Bags dropped, kids supplied with amusements, queue through Security, and then sit and wait, then wait some more.
Finally, we were on the plane, three of us struggling with booster seats and other child-safety delights, and then we waited some more as the plane itself shuffled along in another queue. It was already nearly nine o’clock in the evening.
The airline wasn’t a certain Irish-themed affair, so we ended up sat as family groups, which made life so much easier, especially when Rhod started to yell as the engines finally would up for take-off. To my delight, once the acceleration kicked in his wails turned to giggling, the giggles turned into inspection of his feet, and as Tara demanded to use the ‘loo in the sky’ for some odd reason of perverse fascination, we were able to settle back and graze on our sandwiches as Rhod simply fell asleep. It needed no telepathy on my part to pick up the silent thanks of the passengers around us. The thought of being stuck in a metal tube for four hours as one or more children had a nuclear-grade meltdown was not an attractive one.
I was actually asleep when we banged down at the airport, Blake having quietly tightened my seat belt, and when I say ‘banged’ it was indeed quite a thump. It set Rhod off again, but that didn’t last, and as Kev had booked a transfer with a local driver we had very little to do apart from find our man and load his minibus. I had a flashback to the trip from Marco Polo airport, with added lumpy scenery and hairpin bends, but the driver was actually a lot more careful, perhaps in deference to the presence of three smaller people.
“Where exactly is this place, mate?”
Kev laughed at Blake’s obviously unexpected question.
“I told your missus, butt! Didn’t she keep you in the loop?”
I gave a Charlie-sniff.
“Keep this one in the loop? My Dad’s bad enough with buying guidebooks and stuff, and this one puts him in the shade. I wanted to leave enough room in the luggage for more important stuff, like the kid’s clothes!”
Elaine and Siân were giggling away like schoolgirls, and that was heart-warming, especially after Lainey’s near collapse. There was still that edge, though, as they watched the little ones, who had finally crashed and burned with exhaustion. The villa was on the edge of some town called Kardamaina, and I didn’t see that much of anything until I woke the next, or rather same, morning, brilliant sunshine streaming through the curtains and Rhod demanding his breakfast.
We had a pool. We had sun-loungers. We had odd toilets with a bin for the paper. We had a beach a short bus ride away. We had swimming cossies and sun-block. And we had a fully-fitted bloody kitchen for some of us to make breakfasts in while certain others just went ‘splash’ into the water, the bastards.
To be honest, it wasn’t that bad, as Lainey had somehow managed to surface early and found a local grocery, so breakfast was cold meat and cheese with fresh flatbread, some odd pastries and a lot of fruit juice, and I found myself wondering whether there was an ice-cream stand doing English Soup.
That thought didn’t last long, because this was so different to Venice. That trip had been a family holiday, of course, but this was our first holiday as our own family. The roles were clearly established, Vicky being pure Mam in the way she handled her two, while her husband was happier being silly with them. I did my best to Mam up, and Blake seemed able to resist Kev’s silliness for a large part of the time, but I couldn’t miss the wistfulness on the faces of the other two women, poor girls.
I found Elaine one afternoon idly watching a lizard wriggling along a wall, and she smiled as she felt my stare.
“Sar would love this place, Di”
“What? Micro-kini and outsize shades?”
“Na, not at all. She’d be off walking over the hills, binoculars ready. You’d have a full list of every bloody bird on the island by day three, aye? Then she’d be off looking for somewhere to hire a bike, either kind”
I shook my head at that one.
“Not me. Ad… Annie told me all sorts of horror stories about people who hire mopeds in this sort of place. Go off riding with their lid unfastened, wearing shorts and a vest, then hit some gravel and pick it all up with their flesh. I’ll stick to sunburn, me. Fewer scars. Where’s the missus?”
“Siân? Tara’s been helping her with the sun block. Not fair, is it?”
“Uh? What do you mean?”
Elaine grinned, and it was most definitely a dirty one.
“Look, your Blake, aye? You lie down on the lounger, he dollops some cream onto you, rubs it in nicely…”
“Ooh yeah!”
“Yeah indeed. And there’s my wife needing primer, undercoat, topcoat and sealant before she can even GET to a sodding sunlounger!”
“Ah. I take your point. TARA! STOP DROWNING YOUR BROTHER!”
Vicky howled with laughter from the other side of the pool.
“Oh, these born-to-be-a-Mum women! Lainey, Him Indoors has done the legwork, and we have a taverna located and booked for tonight. You like Greek food, Di?”
“Bit late if I don’t!”
“Point taken. Just don’t do the silly thing, and decide you like the wine so much you just have to take some home. It’s never the same, trust me. Tara Elaine, let your brother breathe or you get no sweets today”
So it went. We went to the local beach, and worked a shift system with the kids in the water and on the shore, where my man and I took turns to chase the fish in the clear blue sea. Little Kevin and Tara had Nets on Sticks for finding Stuff, as Vicky put it, the capitalisation evident as she spoke, and when I took my time to look around our group, it left me smiling almost as broadly as the children.
Lainey and Siân both favoured one-piece costumes, Siân’s more often than not covered with some gauzy long thing to keep some of the sun off her porcelain skin. Vicky, by contrast, went for the full bikini, in a clear mood of not giving a shit about two kids’ worth of stretch-marks and a relaxed tummy area. Our two men were in simple shorts, and very distracting just as they were, athletic and solid respectively. Tara had her own bikini, and I found myself wondering how much extra drag all the applique flowers and smiley sun-faces would cause if she actually swam rather than romped. The two littlest spent most of their time absolutely naked, though I did make sure Rhod had a hat as well as a lot of ‘down time’ under the huge beach umbrella the villa owner s had left for us.
Sun and sea, with the evenings either eating some odd mixture of self-cooked food sourced from the local shop or sitting outside the taverna Kev had found, eating stuffed vine leaves and lamb, and drinking strongly-flavoured white wine before carrying three sleeping children back to their beds. It wasn’t Shirley Valentine, it wasn’t Venice, but it was just as nice as far as I was concerned, and that sound of waves on a shoreline steadily lost its associations. This was most definitely Bridget’s life lived well.
I was sitting by our pool on the last morning, Elaine helping as I sliced tomatoes and buttered bread for our interpretation of ‘continental breakfast’ when she mentioned our friend once more.
“Busy time when I get back, girl”
“Yeah?”
“Next month. Annie’s wedding”
“Oh. Shit. Um”
She looked up at me, eyes narrowed slightly.
“You still don’t quite get it, do you? Still seeing him rather than her, aye?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to words just then, and Lainey smiled, taking my hand.
“Trust me, girl, you see her with her people, see her in her own world, you wouldn’t be confused at all. She is most definitely Annie. I remember Adam… We were both at that RTC of hers, aye? The one with the kiddy? The first I aw of Adam-as-was they were sitting on a crash barrier, helmet off, sobbing their heart out. I was double-crewed with Kev that day. Not a story I would really want to re-visit with him and Vicky listening in, though. That’s Annie: heart the size of Canada, and it’s what Steph said, I think: how the hell she is still with us after all she’s been through, I really cannot grasp.
“Her wedding, aye? Big thing, big day for all of us. Mam and Dad, our family, they are all going as well. I could always ask, girl, see if they have some spare seats?”
It was tempting, but I realised it would not have been fair. I remembered that day in the café, her smile as he arrived, his courage there as he saw her face. I offered Elaine my own smile.
“No, love. Let her live her own life”
Let it be lived well.
CHAPTER 28
Ten days of an odd alphabet, odder plumbing, strange food and a sea that was visibly (and bloody tangibly) very different to that off Barry. I loved it, and of course it left me with a real dilemma.
The ‘Dom Rep’ would always be there in my heart, for we had married there. Cavallino had seen a sweet man ask me if he could make such a thing possible. Kos… Kos was our family doing a new thing as a family, setting precedents. I have read so many times in so many places that ‘you can never go back’, but that wasn’t my, our, problem. The number of places I wanted and needed to go back to was growing quickly.
It was a revelation in other ways, too. Seeing Elaine actually relax was a first. She was, is, a lovely woman, but there was always something of the coiled spring to her, the loaded crossbow, bolt in place. Seeing her reclined by the pool, Siân delegated to sunblock duties that stopped just short of fondling, warmed my heart. I had seen Elaine drunk, I had seen her almost broken, I had followed her baton into a van full of utter bastards, and I knew she never, ever held back from what she thought was right.
Kevin caught my mood towards the end of the holiday, as I watched Siân hand her a cold drink, kiss her so very gently, and settle down beside her in several layers of gauzy cloth.
“She looks almost harmless like that, Di”
I reached out to squeeze his hand, and as I did so I understood how close he was to her, how close we all were.
“Lainey? Harmless? I take your point, mate. I was just thinking about how it’s so rare to see her relaxed. Please take this the right way, yeah? Thanks. This is the sort of thing she really, really needs. I don’t think she lets go easily, does she?”
His gaze went to a different place for a while, then he looked back at me with a twisted grin.
“Fair point. You should have seen her when, well, when her sis had her problems”
I went cold at that.
“Fucking Evans and Pritchard, yeah?”
He nodded. “Fucking Evans and Pritchard indeed. Have you met Sarah? Her sister?”
“No”
I thought for less than a second before adding “Not yet”
He nodded.
“You know her history?”
“Oh yes. Especially with Fucking Evans, Evans and Pritchard”
“Indeed. Thing is, with Sar, Sarah, she’s found just the right man, aye? Tony is an absolute diamond, loves Sarah to distraction, and that, well, odd as it seems, it gives Lainey a problem. She’s that woman pushing at the locked door, and then it opens, and she goes flat on her face”
I looked at him, at the way his face worked, the tells in his eyes, and I knew. Shit. I had watched him with his children, with his wife, and there was no way he was not in love with all of them, but there it was in front of me and I understood his need to talk, to protect.
It would have been so easy just then to ask, to confirm his feelings for our friend, but I knew without prompting that this needed to remain unacknowledged. I thought ‘poor sod’, just for an instant, before catching where his gaze followed Vicky and their children.
Sublimation. I knew, as that word came to me, that it was the wrong one, but in this case it worked, up to a point. He clearly loved his family at least as much as he did Elaine, and that isn’t a gift many people receive in life. Let it lie, girl.
“So, what’s the plan when we get back?”
“Eh?”
“Straight back to work, or taking a bit more time for the kids?”
“Oh, I see. Me, I’ll just be back at work. Vicky went part-time ages ago, what with those two, so she’ll be available for domestic drudgery and that while I bring home the bison steaks”
I looked across at him, and that teasing glint was there, as it would have been in the eyes of so many people I knew, so I just laughed.
“Kev, is it a natural reaction sort of thing, or do we get taught it? Silly humour, bad jokes, all that shit?”
He took some time to think, which showed me clearly how right I was in my estimation of his depths.
“Not sure, Di. I think a lot of us pick it up from colleagues, or rather we pick up style, detail, what do you call it? Tropes? Yeah, tropes, themes. But the reaction, it’s a natural thing. Laughing in the face of the nasties. When Vicky and me first met, it was a bit like that”
“Oh?”
He shook his head. “She’ll kill me, aye? Sod it. It was a blind date thing. Newspaper ads stuff, so I needed to take a mate along for safety stuff, and she brought one as well”
“You took Lainey?”
He snorted. “Yup! And Vicky only brings that one over there along! We should have got bulk discount, BOGOF, whatever. Rest is obviously history, but after the ice was broken, I think it was Lainey says ‘Right, free pint for who can tell the best stupid driver story’ or something like that. Those two, they’re not in the Job, but with Highways Agency they get to see a lot of the same shit that broke Annie. Same reaction, same sense of humour. Make sense?”
I nodded, and resolved to keep the blind date revelation in reserve.
“Makes sense indeed. Strange how it doesn’t extend further”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, we’ve been working on a long string of very nasty abuse cases, and the victims, well, none of them seem to have that reaction”
He was nodding. “Yeah. I think it must be having people around you that does it”
“I think you’ve hit the target there. We had help on one case, bait for a trap, yeah? Same stupid jokes from him, and in the end he was really part of the team. Civil servant, not a copper”
“You included him, though? Made him feel part of your own group?”
“Bloody hell aye!”
Another nod.
“There you have it, then. Can’t imagine working without a team, me”
“Yeah… Absolutely. We’d be lost. Anyway, after we’re back I know one of us will probably end up spending her time looking at sodding videos from CCTV”
He patted my hand.
“Indoors, out of the rain, then?”
I waved a hand at the blue sky, and he laughed out loud.
“Aye, and which bloody country do we live in?”
“Point taken!”
“Oh, and don’t forget, those two have a wedding to go to. You invited?”
“Ah. No. Not kept in contact, have I?”
He stared at me intently, then started to laugh again, but it was with real warmth.
“Oh dear! Don’t we make a right lot of idiots!”
I offered back my warmest smile.
“Yup, but happy ones!”
“Oh indeed! Want some juice? Just going to get the kids out of the sun for a bit”
“Please!”
Annie’s wedding… No. Let her live her life, keep those earlier thoughts. Kev was back in a couple of minutes with some cold drinks, and I settled down to think of nicer things, or at least less complicated ones.
All too soon, which is the mark of a good holiday, we were done, packed and sat on the plane home, two out of three of our little jewels fortunately asleep for the whole journey while little Taz rhapsodised about the view from her boosted window seat. We landed, we queued, we found our luggage and said our goodbyes. I felt almost lost, just three of us to open our front door, put the kettle on and leave the luggage for later.
Worry about return to work was eased by the message on our answering machine.
“Hiya, it’s Deb. Hope the holiday was good. Just to let you know I have a queue of girls here wanting to offer childminding duties. Let me know”
I thought back to the poolside, as Blake wiped what looked like an entire pot of fruit yoghurt off Rhod’s face: happy idiots indeed.
Work was what it was, and Sammy had been busy. We now had a league table on the wall as we were now so much in demand that we were really having to prioritise. Jobs moved up or down the list depending on a combination of available resources, seriousness of the matter and necessary delay due to things like prior trials or forensics. There were three boards, labelled ‘HT’, ‘FP’ and ‘EMFP’, which puzzled me.
“Candice?”
“Yup, brown girl with the ring?”
“Oh, shut up, Blondie. So I tan easily. What’s with the initials?”
“Ah, that was Chris. Popped by to let us have---oh! You won’t have heard?”
“Heard what? Never mind, first things, yeah? HT?”
“Yeah. Chris came up with that. He said we needed some sort of area code, so they stand for Wales, England and anywhere else, like Scotland or Norn Arn. I mean ‘Northern Ireland’, sorry. He’s got me doing it now”
I puzzled at it, but there was still no logical link jumping out at me. My thought processes weren’t helped by her stupid grin, so I just grunted “And?”
She adopted the most over-the-top imitation of a camp gay man I could ever remember seeing, which was clearly meant to be Chris.
“Home Turf, Forn Parts, Even More Forn Parts. He actually suggested ‘FFP’ for the last, but the boss vetoed it”
“I see. That man gets worse. And what won’t I have heard?”
Her grin morphed into a softer smile.
“Actually, it’s Chris himself, Di. He’s been bitten bad, and I blame you two, you and your Fresh meat Jonny Boy. Chris is engaged”
“No!”
“Yup. One of the doctors that treated Omar when, you know. He’s keeping it reasonably quiet just now, so Mum is your lexicon stuff. Apparently Beloved Quack’s parents might not be entirely on board with the idea, so Chris has asked if we can keep it low-key for a while. See if they come round. You are bloody infectious, DC Sutton”
Happy idiots. Candice had a tissue for me, and I blamed maternal hormones while she rustled up some cups and a couple of biscuits.
“What brought that on, love?”
I found my head shaking automatically.
“Don’t really know, girl. Just been so many things, one after the other. Hard to put into words, isn’t it, but it’s been a bit like a door shutting on things. I spent so many years waiting to hit back…”
She shuffled her chair over by my own, so she could take my hand.
“Yeah, I know. You came in as a right hard case, nemo me tango sort of thing, and that’s all gone. We can all see you now… Take a compliment, yeah, without arguing? We like what we see. You just need a breather, time to catch your balance again. Good holiday?”
“Yes, it was. Plenty of time for thinking, even with the kiddy along. Good company. The Powells, and Siân’s cousin and her family. Two children, they have. Rhod enjoyed the company”
“Well, settle down here for a bit. Get that new balance sorted, get your feet back under the desk, and I will catch you in a few. Got to do a statement run”
“Thanks, Candice”
“Any time, girl. You know that, or you should. Later!”
Breathe. Find that balance, and it was exactly that. So many years of looking back over my shoulder, and now I had my eyes forward. I settled down to the next bunch of annotated discs with a smile far freer than it had been.
Just over a month later, we had a message from Lainey.
You free next week at all?
I texted back with the necessaries, and three evenings later she was knocking at our door, wife in tow. I had just started tea for my boy, a pasta in tomato sauce thing, and I sat him at the little chair and table arrangement we had found for him. Siân brewed up in the kitchen as I helped Rhod with the messiness, and Elaine waved a CD box at me.
“Put the telly on for this, girl?”
“What you got?”
“Annie’s wedding. You don’t have to if you’d rather not, aye?”
I looked down at my little man, his face red with sauce, and called out for Siân to bring a cloth from the kitchen. The Annie boat had sailed ages ago; eyes forward, woman.
“Yeah, go on”
She slipped in the disc, and I clicked the telly over to the right channel before passing her the god box.
“Right… OK. This is St Nick’s, where Steph Woodruff got married. That’s the vicar, Simon… Oh yeah, that’s bit on the side”
“That’s the cousin, from the tea shop that day!”
Elaine grinned. “Yup. Bit of matchmaking by Annie, I would guess. Hang on… bit of video here, turn the sound up?”
Singing, in Welsh, and it was bloody glorious. That was another thing from that day in the tea rooms, and as more still pictures followed I saw Elaine’s father and uncle again, the latter with a smiling grey-haired woman that was obviously his wife.
“That’s Alice, my uncle’s wife, and that… That one’s Steph and Geoff, you’ve seen them… And our sister Sarah and her boys”
I hadn’t known what to expect, but what I saw was a good-looking woman in her late thirties or early forties, clearly related to Elaine, but far slimmer, longer in leg, with a man who looked as big as Blake but far more solid.
“These are all out of order, Di. The service went a bit sideways, wedding car broke down and stuff. I’ve put as many guest pics as I could at the start, because I wasn’t supposed to be taking pictures in the church”
I took the cloth from Siân and wiped a sizeable smear of sauce from my boy’s chin.
“You did take some, though, or you wouldn’t say that”
“Bloody coppers. Too quick on the uptake. Yes, I did. I just wanted to save one for the end, but these ones…”
She had been quick with her camera, and it was obvious when the shots had been taken. The groom waits at the altar, the bride arrives, and the music is played. I was guessing, having heard the singing from her family, and no doubt that music included Elaine’s as well, that the music she had entered the church too had been live and choral rather than from the church organ. Two photos.
Eric looked back over his shoulder, to see the bride arriving, his bride, his intended, and the smile I had seen while blonde was there in full.
Annie, in white, a simple Regency-style gown, a veil held by a circlet of flowers, and her face, her smile, her joy and delight, still clear through the netting. More than that, she looked absolutely happy in her skin, in her life, in her love for the man awaiting her.
Once more, my tears were there.
“Lainey? This isn’t such a shitty world after all, is it?”
CHAPTER 29
Routine settled back onto my life like a slightly damp raincoat. Warm, comfortable, but still a little irritating round the edges. I moved Rhod from a cot-style seat to an upright one, but, memories and nightmares tugging at me, I made bloody sure the thing was securely attached. Not in the front, either; I had read enough reports of what happened to a child seat when the passenger airbag was triggered. Wherever my little boy went, his seat went with him, and I am sure I annoyed my parents by insisting on my own inspection of how they fitted it to their own car. I didn’t care, or only a little, because my boy was going to be as safe as I could make him.
I got one surprise one Sunday in mid-September, with an e-mail from Tammy on behalf of her and Bridget. I shouted into the kitchen, where Blake was making paper boats with Rhod.
“You got anything planned for Christmas, love?”
“That should be ‘we’, and no, apart from dinner with Mark and Dot, of course. What’s up?”
“Bridget and Tammy are coming over for a fortnight, that’s what. Tammy’s asked if they can be cheeky”
“Spare room cheeky?”
“Yes. It’s not going to mean babysitting them every day. I was going to ask if it’s OK to get them a key cut”
“This is the girl at our wedding, aye? The one who looked after you for so many years? I think you can guess my answer to that one!”
“I know, love. Just like to make you think your opinion matters sometimes”
“Cheeky cow! Anyway, Ellen has been asking about Christmas as well. Wants a proper team blow-out”
“It’s only September!”
“Well, you are asking about Christmas”
“Yeah, but that’s because I got a flipping e-mail ten minutes ago!”
“Women and logic. Hmmm”
“Men and nit-picking!”
Naturally, we couldn’t keep the exchange going as we both ended up laughing, and even though our littlest family member couldn’t understand what was funny, he still joined in the laughter out of pure happiness. Once it wound down, I asked about Ellen’s proposal.
“Ah, she is saying that we haven’t been to the Elaine Powell bar for a while. I suspect Chris is on the case”
“Ah. He thinking of making it official, then? His engagement?”
“I suspect he is. Safe space and all that. Speaking of which, I’ll ask around the team. Just us, and we know what to expect. Bring in family, friends and that, and the dynamics change. If Chris is going to bring his beloved, it might be OK for the Sheilas”
“Fair point. This family stuff is complicated, isn’t it? I’ll see what Mam and Dad are up to, if they can take Rhod for a night”
“I would make that at least two, Di. I suspect that doing justice to your Mam’s dinner would be easier without the hangover I am certain we will end up with”
I gave him that one; Chris could never be described as a ‘lightweight’ when it came to parties. I rang Mam ten minutes later.
“Well, where are you storing everything, love? For the morning?”
“Sorry, Mam?”
“Whatever your party dates, he has to wake up to tree and presents on the day. Are you doing it here or at your own home?”
Family life was getting more complicated by the day. Simplicity, please!
I ended up almost wishing the year away, which got easier when the sunny weather broke with a vengeance. Rain, wind, sleet as early as sodding October; I was glad to spend so much time indoors, time that was spent juggling another old rape case, which was going absolutely nowhere, and a contrived insolvency linked into stolen plant and computer equipment. That one left me giggling, as the main man in a chain of collapsed building companies rejoiced in the name Robert Hadley-Crooke, so of course he became ‘Rob Crook’ to us. Not the world’s greatest joke, but you take what you can get when you are ploughing through lists of serial numbers and calling them out to your brother-in-law. Not exactly ‘deep joy’, but it was better than being out on the streets. That made me think of a car park by Dunraven, and then Paula.
Sod it. I finished the list for Sean and dashed off a quick e-mail to Paul Welby.
‘What you and Paula up to at Christmas?’
He replied almost immediately, which showed that he was another who had been spared the delights of a Welsh Autumn.
‘Nothing planned’
I grabbed the phone.
“Mam?”
“Yes, love? Anything wrong? Rhodri OK?”
“Oh, yes. Sorry”
“Yes. You don’t usually ring from work”
“Ah, it’s just that I had a quick thought, random idea, flash of whatsit. We have seven of us due for Christmas dinner, haven’t we?”
“If Bridget and Tammy want, yes”
“Could you squeeze another couple in? Not asked them yet; wanted to make sure first”
She was silent for a few seconds, and I began wondering if I had overstepped her hospitality tolerance, just as she spoke again.
“I think so, love. We’d need a couple of extra chairs, but the table would pull out, and if you bring Rhod’s own table set… Who is it?”
“One of my colleagues and his fiancée”
“Have I met them?”
“Um, they were at the trial, Evans Senior, innit? Paul and Paula”
“Ah. The prostitute woman”
Oh dear. Keep your voice level, DC Sutton.
“The rape victim, Mam. The woman who was raped by Ashley Evans. One of the GIRLS who were raped by him”
She was silent for long enough for me to start wondering if I had pushed too hard, too far, but then she gave a long sigh.
“I should know better, me. After what they said about you when, then, you know. Not the right word, was it?”
“I prefer ‘the author’, Mam. It says more about her”
“You are right, love. I’m sorry. Just, well, we are all what we are, how we were brought up, isn’t it? Product of our times, aye?”
“Yes, Mam. Thank you. I do understand, you know?”
“I know, love. After everything that’s gone on, I suppose we should, I should, be a little more… We are what life makes us, love”
“We are indeed”
“I wonder sometimes, just now and again, how you would have turned out without what that man did to you. You were always so full of laughter, as a girl. Always joking”
“I can only just remember”
“Not complaining, am I? You fell on your feet, with the career, and our son-in-law, and Rhod. No complaints there at all. I just wonder, isn’t it? What if?”
She gave another deep sigh.
“Then I think of that woman, Paula, and I tell myself I should be even-handed. She was at a good school when he attacked her, wasn’t she?”
“Yes, Mam. It’s funny, but I had to tell Blake off when we first met, comment he made, and I had to spell out what rape is, not about fu---. Not screwing but screwing up”
She laughed, and it was happier, more relaxed.
“You’ll be watching your language around our boy, then?”
“Oh dear yes!”
“Well, you go back to your two friends, and you say yes, Mark and Dot will be happy to have them for Christmas dinner, and I will do my best to choose my words”
“Thanks, Mam. I love you”
“I know you do, love”
We ended the call, and I sent a mail to Paul and suggested he rang rather than groping via e-mails. The phone went twenty seconds later.
“Hiya, Di. What are you suggesting?”
“Crimble dinner at my parents’ place”
“You serious? With … With Paula’s history?”
“Mam says she will be happy to host the author lady and her fiancé”
Once again, I had the silent treatment before he came back to me.
“Who else will be there?”
“My parents, me and Blake and our little boy, and an old friend and her wife who are visiting from Australia”
“Do they all know about Paula?”
“I don’t think Rhodri is quite up to speed yet”
“Be serious, Di. They have no problems?”
“Paul, I think what they have problems with is the arsehole that put both of us in hospital, isn’t it?”
Once again, I sat through the silence.
“Di?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. I will ask her, OK? Nearer to the day, give us some idea about what we need to do, what we should bring”
“From experience, and knowing my men, some beers and a sense of humour would be good. We will be trying to leave a hangover behind, if what I think Chris Connor is planning goes the way I expect it to”
He chuckled, clearly far more relaxed than he had been.
“Oh yes: you up to a meal at Deb’s place next week? Friday evening? I suspect Gemma has some news of her own”
“No!”
“I think yes. He’s been getting quite keen on her, and she does like her beef”
“Hang on… just looking at my calendar. OK. I am off, but hubby is on a job. Just me, then. I might bring my boy along, if that’s OK”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Oh, just something I read recently. Deb keeps men well away from the house, unless, yeah? And there’s this group of so-called feminists who told a woman her son wasn’t welcome at an event because he was, and I quote, a penis-bodied rapist”
“You are joking!”
“Nope. The kid is two years old”
He snorted at that.
“Odd, isn’t it? Some of the people you’d expect to be open, adaptable in their thinking, they’ve got the most locked-down and closed minds of all. And then there’s your parents. Shit. Getting maudlin, now. See you Friday, Di?”
“See you Friday, mate”
It turned out to be a superb evening, Gemma clearly smitten and her huge boyfriend remarkably subdued. I suppose that was natural, considering how outnumbered he was, as the only two ‘men’ beside himself were Paul and my littler one. Charlie and Tiff were at their teasing worst, and I almost felt sorry for the lad. For her part, Deb simply sat and smiled.
“This is what I work for, you know”
“What? The course of true love?”
“No, Di. Not specifically. I just try and give the girls some room to grow, a safe space to start living”
Her face darkened a little.
“And somewhere to run back to if it goes to shit, aye?”
“You think it will?”
“Really? In this case? No, I don’t. I have had some free and frank talks with that young man, making sure his eyes are as open as possible, and no, I don’t have worries about him. Worries FOR him, those I have. Man with freak for partner, aye?”
“Deb, well, yes. Couple of things, though. Look at Paula there: even someone with my Mam’s background, all that weight of convention, even Mam is now calling her ‘that author woman’, and Gemma is going to stay ‘that bloody good pastry chef’. People can adapt”
I thought for a couple of seconds, then took the plunge.
“I have a friend, Deb, not one here, and she’s trans. Married now, and I watched her with her family, with her man, and not only was it right and fitting but it was accepted”
She looked at me with a slight smile.
“Copper? Over to Sussex?”
“You know about her?”
“Let’s just say I keep a very, very keen eye on the news. Never know what will come out. Car bomb woman?”
“Yup. I knew her when she worked over this way”
My friend looked at me for three or four seconds before smiling more broadly and simply saying “Ah”
I smiled back.
“Ah, indeed. Bloody good job I never pushed it. Now, I am stuffed, Rhod’s just about asleep, so I think it is time to disengage him from your girls’ love and affection and get him home to bed”
I did the necessary cleaning of left-overs from his chin and strapped him into his pushchair before pulling on my coat, and by the time Paul and Paula joined me at the front door he was slumped and dribbling slightly, which meant I would probably have a few tears when I put him properly to bed. So many of the girls looked so wistful it was almost painful to see. A quick round of hugs, and we were out of the front door and walking round to the main road and the car park near the tea shop where I had first met Deb. Such a short time, so many changes.
Paula was arm-in-arm with her fiancé, chatting happily about a follow-up to her book, when the passenger on the black moped shot her.
CHAPTER 30
No, life didn’t slip into slow motion, I didn’t clock the number of the bike, and Paul didn’t dive across the pavement shouting “NOOOOOOOOOO!”
They rode past, something went flash-bang, Rhod woke up with a shout, and Paula spun off her feet with a grunt. Nothing dramatic, no cinematic clichés; just a woman on some concrete flags in a spreading pool of blood, I had an immediate thought, and it was stupid, and it was “How useless am I?”
Rhod was yelling now, and Paula’s eyes were open in shock, and then her man was shouting at me. Some bloody cooper I was. As he screamed, I dug out my mobile. Ambulance, police…
“DI!”
“Er…”
“Pressure! Here! Now, girl!”
Things may not have gone into slow motion with the shot, but I felt them speed up into real time as my training finally kicked in, and Paul fed my hand into a hole in her shoulder where something pulsed and bled.
“Push harder, Di! It’s not gone through. Lights, aye? Watch for them. I’m shouting Deb”
Seconds later, with a steady chorus of ‘fuck fuck fuck’, she was with us. Packing was provided, but I could feel that twitchy little thing writhing under my fingertips, so no packing the wound, no bleeding out for my stricken friend.
Blue lights. Barry by my side, the ambulance just behind, a paramedic with something that looked like a twisted pair of scissors reaching past my numb fingers to clamp that little bastard while another plugged something into Paula’s other arm. Their voices were gentle, calm.
“Bring your hand out now, Diane. It’s OK. Well done, girl. We have her, aye? Someone help her up?”
He switched to a mess of technical stuff as Deb hauled me to my feet, and as my senses extended again I saw that Tiff had my son in her arms, teasing him with a piece of something that had obviously from Gemma.
The ambulance howled off, Paul in the back, and that was it. I was surrounded by women, the whole front of my clothing was dripping red, my friend was bleeding out, and my strength had gone off with the ambulance.
Barry was still there, though, and he pulled me to him for a hug.
“Stay strong, girl. Stay strong. Hubby’s on his way with Sammy. Notes, girl. Get it written up while it’s still fresh, then we get you clean and your clothes bagged”
“What?”
He muttered something in Welsh that had an awful lot of harsh consonants to it.
“Di, we will get these turds, but we want as much on our side of the scales as we can, aye? Picture of you and the blood, that’s the sort of thing that gets juries seeing things our way”
“I didn’t even get the fucking number of the bike…”
“Not now, Di. It happens. You were with friends, pushing your kid. You’re not superhuman, are you? Are you?”
I shook my head, and he pulled me closer to him.
“I’ll get your stab vest covered in blood, Barry”
“Does anyone give a shit, girl? That bike is probably toast by now, so the number isn’t that important. Let’s get you sat down, evidence written up, aye? Your mate there, she got a space for us?”
Deb had clearly been listening, but it was Charlie who gave the answer.
“For Paula? For Di? Of course we have. Come with me”
Sat in the same kitchen from what seemed like a century ago, my two favourite SOCO trainspotters on their way for photos, I could feel the blood, Paula’s blood, drying on my skin, stiffening my blouse as it congealed. I knew I was settling into shock, despair, but Barry was there with me, solid, as safe as my own lover would have been, and as my mood sank he talked me patiently through the horrors and made the appropriate notes in his pocket book. I knew without needing to be told that other mates were there outside, closing down the street, fingertip searching the road for anything that could help, just as more friends would be cancelling their day off, gathering CCTV, calling in their snouts for any word at all.
Then Blake was finally there, Sammy at his shoulder, and I lost it just as Barry finished his notes and SOCO put away their cameras.
Sammy was straight to the point.
“Get her home, mate. Sorry, Di, but it’s paper suit time. Take what you need, and we’ll bag the clothes. Give your parents a ring for the boy, but go home, now. Got me? We will see you when you are up to it, and not before”
I pulled some rationality together.
“Paula? Any word?”
“Straight to theatre. Lost a lot of blood, they say, but she’s still with us. We’ll let you know, OK? But go home. Now”
Tiff put her head around the door.
“Di? Got your phone here. Hope I didn’t overstep, but I rang your Mam”
I must have looked puzzled.
“It’s in your phone directory, isn’t it? Told her you were OK, that there’s been an accident, and just said she should go round to yours”
She smiled, a hint of a tear there, and I had to ask why.
“Oh, she wanted to know who I was, of course”
“What’d you tell her?”
“Just said I was one of your sisters, didn’t I? Anyway, you’ve been told, woman. Home!”
Paper suit cold and draughty, Sammy drove the three of us back to our house, where Mam was already waiting in the living room, her spare key finally coming in handy. Blake handed her Rhod, whose face was covered in cream from Gemma’s pastry, and then it was all too much for me. As Blake handed Rhod to Mam, I ran upstairs to the bathroom and threw up more of Gemma’s work.
Shower. I really, really needed to wash, Paula’s lifeblood crusty everywhere, so I stripped off the white boiler suit, ripping it in my hurry, and stepped into the shower. I had to wash, I had to be clean, and then the door of the cubicle opened again, and my beloved man was there, naked, warm, strong, and as I sobbed my heart out he did all he could to make everything better.
He couldn’t, of course, but he tried, and that was all I asked.
Later, calmer and so much cleaner, we went back downstairs to where Mam sat by a tray of tea, and wrapped in dressing gown and husband I did my best to explain, and just like my husband, she was there and strong for me.
The morning sun was strong at the bedroom window, and as I registered the day’s brightness I realised I didn’t remember going to bed. Blake was gone, but I could smell bacon and toast, so he was still with me. On with dressing gown and slippers and then downstairs, where Rhod was giggling as Mam tried to get him to take some cereal. Blake, dressed for work, looked up at me and smiled.
“Morning, love. Slept well?”
I bit down hard before I could say ‘like the dead’ and just nodded.
“Well, I am off into James Street. Lots to do today, and before you ask, we’ve had word from the hospital, and it’s good news. She’s not fine, obviously, but she’s staying with us.
Mam comforted our son as the sobs tore pout of me, Blake speaking as calmly as his drove, his hand taking mine.
“Low-velocity round, love. Not the best of weapons, so we’re looking at a converted replica or reactivated weapon. Starting pistol, home-made zip gun, something like that. They recovered the bullet. Bit more oomph to it and they would have cut her aorta, the docs say. Either way, you saved her life. Nicely done, love”
“Why, my love? Why Paula?”
“Don’t know yet. That’s why I am going in. We’ve been co-opted to do some of the digging”
“Then I need to get changed!”
Mam’s voice was like a slap.
“NO! This time, you stay at home. You heal, you cuddle our little man, and you get better. State you are in, and you want to go rushing into work? No, I say. My son here is big enough to call home as necessary, isn’t he? Anyway, we have a Christmas to prepare for, and I will have you all there, including your friend. Now, what do you want for breakfast?”
Blake was off, and the wheels were turning. I made a small but firm resolution: if I ever ended up face to face with the shooter, my asp was going to stay in my hand.
The days dragged, but after just under a week of festering at home I was finally allowed to see Paula in the hospital. Dai Gould drove me in, and had the tact to go off for a round of coffees while we women avoided hugs and kept the contact down to crushing each other’s hands in the private room they had set aside for her. She wasn’t that lucid, with so much pain relief flooding her system, but she was there, and she was breathing and trying to smile for me.
“How’s the little man, Di?”
“He’s fine, love. Charlie and Tiff took him when, you know, and Mam’s been staying round, so, well, as fine as it could be. Who was it, Paula?”
She grunted, turning her head away for a few seconds, then looked back at me.
“Nothing like that, Di. No ‘my lips are sealed’ shit from me, not ever again. It could have been all sorts of people. Ex-punter with a grudge, former owner who wants to make a point, another owner who wants to show his own girls what happens when they get out of line. Long list. You want to find Moira for starters, see what she might know”
“OK. Where do we find her?”
“Paul can fill you in on who knows the girls, OK? Anyway, doctor’s here”
He was young and slim, very softly-spoken, but he let me stay as he did the checks he needed to, no curtains drawn. He had a lovely smile, which he gave to my friend.
“Coming along well, Paula. No infection, which is wonderful news, given how you got hurt. We’ll have you back to your keyboard in no time. Who is your friend?”
“That’s Di Sutton, doctor”
“Ah! I’ve heard about you--- no, not like that. I have a friend, we have a mutual friend. He’s rather fond of you, talks a lot about what you’ve done”
Pieces fell together with an almost audible clatter, and I tried to match his smile’s warmth.
“You will be Chris O’Connor’s friend than? His, um, special friend?”
He ducked his head, blushing, then looked up again.
“Darius Alinejad at your service, DC Sutton. Well, more at Paula’s service just now, but I am sure you take my point. Chris speaks very highly of you, especially your courage”
I barked out a laugh.
“He can bloody talk! What he did, sacrificial goat he called himself”
Darius was nodding. “Yes, he explained a little, and the rest I discovered. What he says is that he only found his courage because he knew he had friends, just as this lady does. Without your actions, she would have bled to death”
“Yeah, but it was Paul who told me what to do!”
He smiled again, and I could see what Chris obviously did.
“I did say ‘friends’, Di. Now, I am finished here, and I have other patients to support, so Ii will pass your regards to my own friend as I leave you with yours”
He was gone, but his smile lingered.
Three weeks, and I was back to work, nothing coming out of the investigation but low-level noise as the grey nights closed in. Paul had known someone who had known someone who had known Moira, and we had extra eyes and ears listening for us, but there was still nothing to go on apart from a report of a small fire that had consumed a moped and two crash helmets. The frame and engine numbers on that one were both down at Chris’ place under the heading ‘No longer keeper/ scrapped’, but all of us knew exactly which vehicle it had been.
Four weeks, five weeks, nothing. Paula finally up and about, Christmas nearly on us, and long hours wearing me down. I left Rhod with Charlie again one evening, heading off to the big shops to try and find those last presents, but the work and the short hours of daylight were indeed taking their strain. I ended up driving down to the Bay, taking a seat near the lock, the place we had sat in the sun, new friends celebrating the life opening before them like a flower.
There were lights over in Penarth, and the drizzle had gone, so I sat nursing the coffee I had bought over by the Pierhead, letting my mind run the free association I was told it did so well.
There was a rumble, more than one. Big bikes, Harleys I guessed. What did I know? I settled down into my thoughts and the warmth of my cardboard beaker.
The engines cut out, and something triggered my waking mind. I looked around, and there were four figures walking towards me, each from a different direction, and all I could think was Ashley Fucking Evans.
Big men, all of them, and I knew I was fucked, figuratively even if not literally. Idiot! One of them rumbled something I nearly missed, and he said it again, louder this time.
“You Di Sutton? The copper?”
CHAPTER 31
My safety training was kicking in, and I knew in the back of my mind that I was already firing off target acquisition glances, seeking the right place to hit first, who to attack as a priority, but the rational part of me was folding quickly in fear and certainty. I was dead.
I rose from the block I was sitting on. The pub was too far away, and there were no lights in the Norwegian church. The four huge men were too well-spaced to allow me to have any chance of making a run for it, and I had no kit with me. Dead.
A dog walker appeared off in the distance, but another of the group appeared from the shadows, intercepted him and sent him back the way he had come, in some haste. I turned back to the one in front of me.
“Why do you want to know who I am?”
“I know who you are already, Detective Constable. I just want a little chat with you. Sit down”
“Why?”
“Sit. Down”
He moved past me, and to my surprise took a seat himself, waving a hand at the block next to him.
“I simply want to talk to you, Diane. Please sit. My brothers will give us some privacy. That’s all. Sit”
I sank back down, and he nodded. In the dim light, I could see a squat barrel of a man, and as the tree branches moved in the breeze, light caught his face. He looked to be in his forties or early fifties, greying hair to the shoulders, and sometime in the past he had been struck in the face by something like the edge of a spade. His nose was folded right in, with a clear groove across it. I suspected the damage done to anyone involved in delivering that wound might have been rather more severe.
He was in leather jacket and jeans, with a leather jerkin over the jacket, cloth patches sewn to its front. Look and memorise, woman, but don’t make it too obvious. The badge on one side was diamond-shaped, and read ‘1%’, while the opposite side depicted a snarling boar’s head, though no real boar had ever had a mouthful of such sharp and clearly carnivorous teeth.
They were from the Culhwch MC, then. What the hell did they want with me? I couldn’t see them having any connections to the Evans family, for a start. The big man rumbled something else I missed, and he coughed, and I realised it hadn’t just been his nose that had received the damage.
“You know Posh Paula”
A flat statement, not a question, and I knew instantly who he meant, so I nodded, once. Bugger negotiation.
“Yes, I know Paula. She’s a friend, and some bastard on a bike shot her. Is that what all this amateur dramatic shit is about?”
He coughed again, and I realised it was actually laughter.
“Moira said you were a feisty bitch, and I see she was right. What have you done to find the cunt?”
I looked round to his mates, brothers, companions, to see one of them turn a jogger round to send them off the way they had come, then looked back at the obvious leader.
“How do you know my friends?”
“You know who we are. You know what we are”
Not questions in any way whatsoever, and he continued what was in essence a confession of organised criminality that stopped just short of useful detail.
“The girls bring in the punters, and we don’t mind that. It’s good for our business, and that we like. The pimps, owners, whatever they call themselves, they behave on our turf or we educate them, and we educate any punters that get out of line. Those girls are our girls, in the end, and jumped-up fuckshits do not go around shooting our girls. It’s criminal damage to our property, and it is bad for our business. It brings your lot around, for starters”
I looked at him, trying to gauge his meaning.
“That what this is all about? Your bloody income?”
He tilted his head to one side, staring at me, the break in his nose now in deep shadow.
“There is that, but it’s not all. We don’t like people with shooters who shouldn’t have them. And, well, I like the girl. She’s got class, for a whore, even if she’s loved up with that copper”
Another coughing laugh.
“Actually, I quite like Paul as well. He’s as straight as you ever find. No bullshit, no sneaking about shit. He looks after people. I can live with that. But nobody fucking shoots people on our patch and walks again. So listen carefully, Detective Constable Sutton, and yes, we do know where you live, but don’t worry. You know the park by the Castle?”
“Bute Park? Of course”
“You will not stake it out. You will not put coppers there. You WILL expect a delivery sometime next week”
“when?”
“Oh, fuck off, woman! You should know better than to ask that!”
He rumbled another coughing laugh, then abruptly stood, and my reflexes kicked in again, jerking me to my feet, but he held up a casual hand.
“Calm down, girl. Now, tell me: how is Posh?”
I shrugged.
“As well as can be expected. Seems to be recovering; bloody good job the gun was apparently a shit one”
“Aye, it was. There’s a hollow tree in Splott Park, by the bike track”
He turned, and I sank back down in relief as he started to walk away. Just as I thought it was at an end, he stopped and called back over his shoulder.
“And Diane?”
“Yeah?”
“Give our regards to that little cunt Joe Evans”
He shambled away, his brothers converging with them, and for some reason I left my phone in my bag until the thunder of their bikes had faded into the distance. I had to dial three times before I could control the sudden shaking in my hands. Let there be someone in the office, please.
“Patel!”
“Oh, thank fuck!”
“Di? What’s up?”
“Can’t give details just now, Sammy. Just been handed a load of info. We need someone with firearms training down to Splott, by the swimming pool, yeah? There’s meant to be a hollow tree by the bike track”
“Where has this come from?”
“Not now, Sammy. I’m on my way in, not far off. Tell you more when I can”
Round to James Street, buzzed in and straight to the office, Sammy waiting with Rhys and Rob, faces full of concern, so I took a moment to pour myself a cup of tea. Calm the shakes down, DC Sutton. Police, professional. Calming breaths.
“Boys, I was followed tonight. I thought I was going to be face down in the Bay, to be honest, but all he wanted was a talk”
Sammy was direct.
“Who, Di?”
“Not going to say, just now. All I need to tell you… All I feel I can tell you is that Paula’s shooting has pissed off a lot of people, and one of them intends to give us a hand. I suspect there’s a package in the tree, so we need to get there sharpish. We should also expect a delivery, I was told. What of, fuck knows, though I have a suspicion”
Sammy turned to the other two.
“Pick up the necessary kit and get down there. Take a dog unit, firearms dog, you know the score, and tee up SOCO. If the weapon is there, I want it along with anything else you can find. Now, please”
That was Sammy in firm boss mode, but as soon as Rhys and Rob were out of the door he dropped back into the gentler man I knew and loved.
“Di? What can you tell me? I am guessing there’s a lot more to this than you feel you can tell us?”
“Spot on, Sammy. I was followed, and while one of them spoke to me, his mates set up what was effectively a security cordon. Very, very efficiently. My man knows Paula, and I think he has a soft spot for her”
I concentrated on the steam from my cup for a few seconds.
“Simply put, they have business in the area. They see the girls as a positive asset for their earnings. What happened to Paula has pissed them off. And one of them knows Joe Evans”
Sammy’s eyebrows went up in an ‘Oh, really?’ expression, and then he nodded, sharply.
“I take your point, mate. And I believe I know who we are both talking about. How many of them did you see?”
“Four, at first, but there were others further off”
“You must have been shitting yourself, knowing the boys I believe we are talking about”
“I was, Sammy”
“No shame there, mate, no shame at all. It was a spade, by the way”
“Eh?”
“Got the edge across his face, the handle across his neck, and ten years for manslaughter, and that is all either of us need to know. Delivery?”
“Yeah. They said we should stay away from Bute Park, but expect there to be something left for us next week”
“OK. It goes against my nature, but my instincts are telling me to leave it alone and wait. Now go home. I’ll let you know what we get”
I didn’t sleep that well, not telling my man anything for some reason, and I am sure I kept him awake, but both Blake and I were in bright and early the next morning. We had a full team for once, even Rhys and Rob doing a quick turnaround, and Sammy called us into a briefing as soon as we had grabbed a cuppa each.
“Right, mates. Things have moved on in a big way. Blake, did Di fill you in?”
My husband stared at me.
“Fill me in about what?”
I sighed. “Sorry, love. I just needed us to get some sleep, and if I had told you, well, neither of us would have got any”
Candice snorted.
“Yeah, well, seeing as you two produced that little bundle of joy, you must have lost a lot of sleep anyway”
Sammy let the laughter die down before raising a hand.
“Serious heads on, please. Di? Bare essentials?”
I quickly looked at Blake, and he gave my knee a squeeze of reassurance.
“Er, boys and girls… sorry. In short form, I was followed last night so someone could talk to me. They offered us a package last night, and a delivery in a few days. That’s all from me”
Jon looked up.
“Who was it, Di?”
“No, Jon. Need to know. For once, REALLY need to know”
Sammy held up his hand once more.
“Rhys? Rob?”
Rhys smiled, and held up a file.
“We went over to Splott last night, on Di’s info, and we took a sniffer dog and SOCO. We now have what we believe is the weapon involved in Paula’s shooting”
There were a number of comments, many of them very rude, but they were all in celebration. Blake took my hand again, smiled, and turned back to Sammy.
“What do we have, Sammy? Is that need to know as well?”
“Nope, not that bit. Rhys?”
“Aye. We have a replica Police Special or whatever the yanks call them. A 38 snubnose. It’s a good quality piece for a replica, decent materials, and it’s been modified for live rounds, though I suspect it will only fire one rather than a full set of five, and before you ask, not all revolvers are ‘six-shooters’. SOCO are doing tests on it, but they have confirmed it’s been fired recently, and I believe the round recovered from Paula will match our little toy. Shit weapon, short barrel, poor gas sealing from the modification, but still lethal, or potentially”
Sammy smiled.
“Thanks, mate. One question? Anything on site to dig into? Any leads of any kind?
“Sod-all, Sammy. Just the weapon”
“I suspected that might be the case. Nothing for us until this delivery, whatever that mean. I am afraid, then, that it will be our usual grind getting through the backlog of other cases, while we, well, await developments, as they say”
That was it, then. An eternity of terror the previous evening, and now, at least in my case, a set of disclosure schedules to complete. I went back to our drinks table, and Blake followed, laying an arm over my shoulder for a quick hug.
“It’s all right, love. If you felt you couldn’t tell me right off, it will have been for good reasons, so don’t worry. Anyway, we need to think about presents. Not just your mam and Dad, but we’ve got Tammy and Bridget coming over, and I feel we should give a little something to the House, Deb’s place that is, and I really think we should have a little something to give to the Sedakas when they come for dinner”
Reminding me of my old mistake got me smiling, so I hugged him back as the day brightened with the love of my very good man, and of the people working round me.
Three days later, we had our delivery, and it was savage. A young couple, only in their late teens, had called it in, and I suspect that if they were in the park for amorous reasons the mood had been well and truly broken. Blake and I were there just behind the ambulances, but there was enough left of the scene to tell us all we needed.
It was in the middle of the circle of standing stones, and it was three men, two of them very young. All three had their hands bound behind them, and had been left on the raised stone platform in the middle of the circle. They hadn’t been able to walk off for the brutally simple reason that all six legs had been broken below the knee. Their other injuries were multiple, to say the least.
I felt sick, seeing that face again in my memory, the spade cut over the nose, hearing that coughing laughter.
There was a notice fastened across the square picture-frame thing by the stones, made from a simple bed sheet and written in a rusty brown ink I knew came from one or more of the three injured men.
“They pissed off the wrong people”
CHAPTER 32
We went into overdrive that morning, most of the team joining with CID and uniform to carry out a fingertip search of the open stretch of grass that contained the circle, but there was absolutely nothing for us. Candice and Lexie took the lead with the young couple, and then, once the search was done, Jon and Ellen, Blake and Rob, in pairs, went to the hospital. Sammy had been very clear I wasn’t to go anywhere near what we were assuming were the shooter plus two. My boss took me to an interview room once everyone was off and running.
“Just need a quiet word, mate. A few things you should be aware of. Bring your tea”
We took our seats in the little room, but Sammy insisted on sitting the same side as me.
“Feels wrong taking a pew on the punters’ side. Anyway, the Culhwch. You understand the difference between MCCs and MCs? Front patch and back patch?”
“Sort of”
“Well, in short, the first may do all sort of things, but in essence they are social clubs, nothing more. MCs are different. Think Hell’s Angels, think Freemasons, think family. Every single one of your mate’s brothers served an apprenticeship”
“Yeah. Brothers is the word he used”
“Aye. Brothers they are, and tighter than that, and Carl Morris is tighter than a duck’s arse with the people he allows to prospect for the club. We know they’ve got the speed and wacky baccy markets sewn up, and I suspect that cannabis farm we raided was hit by them”
“Carl Morris? Spade face?”
“The very same. Goes by the name Pig; supposed to be a joke about his voice and the club colours--- the boar’s head? Anyway, as I said, after the spade, he got an axe handle across the throat. It was meant to be the axe’s head by all accounts, but he’s bloody fast on his feet and naturally he knocked the axe free and it sort of fell onto the head of the man who hit him, purely by misadventure, Your Honour. He admitted to fighting only because he was in the hospital with multiple wounds, but there were no witnesses, so it was left as manslaughter rather than murder. Coughed to that, got ten years, kept what’s left of his nose clean and was out in five.
“Three days after he got out, two members of the Grim Reapers MC were found hacked to death. No convictions. You were lucky he was on your side, mate”
I shuddered.
“Didn’t feel like it at the time, Sammy”
“I am sure it didn’t, girl. Anyway: Joe Evans. What, exactly, did he say?”
“Um, something along the lines of ‘Give our regards to that little shit Joe Evans’, Sammy”
This time it was feral Sammy who grinned.
“I doubt very much that Pig said ‘shit’, girl, but never mind. How much do you know about Joe Evans?”
“Apart from the gay bashing shit, Tiff and Charlie? I know he was the one who beat the shit out of Elaine Powell’s sister, then got a kicking. I assume the two events are related, but I suspect it had nothing to do with Lainey”
“You assume right, mate. From his statement, Evans had a knock on his door, and when he opened it he was immediately attacked. Iron bar across the leg followed by a serious and creatively comprehensive kicking”
“You think that was Morris?”
“I don’t really know, girl, but if it wasn’t Pig himself it will have been a couple of his crew, plus an outsider”
“How do you know?”
“Description. Apparently, the bloke made the boys who were absolutely not from the Culhwch look small. Evans said the stranger offered to give him a cock to suck”
“Eh?”
“He offered Evans his own cock. Evans’ own cock, that is. Said as he liked having his cock sucked, if he sliced it off Joe Evans could sort of, er, cut out the middle man”
“Jesus fucking Christ!”
“You now know who and what you met the other night, and this is where realpolitik comes in. I predict we won’t have a hope in hell of linking Pig’s boys to anything. I further suspect that the three with the broken legs will be singing their hearts out in quick time. Pig will have communicated very clearly with them despite his vocal problems. Now, I know it goes against the grain, but just this once we will not be looking to find the people with the blunt instruments, because there WILL be no evidence, nor witnesses. This one is a long game”
“So we just let an OCG do their thing? No action?”
“Di, we carry on with what we have been doing for years with Pig, and that is to file away every little bit of evidence they miss. One day, if someone from another club doesn’t get amazingly lucky, we will have him, but until then we simply accept what we can’t change for now, and wait for the day when we can bloody change it. Got me?”
I nodded, somewhat reluctantly, and I got soft Sammy’s smile in return.
“Fine, mate. Now, time to get back into our kingdom. Should be getting some reports back soon, plus three coughs. One will be the shooter, the second his pilot. I’m hedging my bets on number three”
It wasn’t that quick, of course, but three hours later we had our colleagues back. Sammy called a team huddle, and Jon led off, looking nervous until Rhys and Ellen both gave him a nod and smile.
“We have initial indications of pleas from the three men. Before anyone asks, they all tripped over a loose paving slab”
Alun shouted out “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” and Jon nodded.
“Yup, that bloody silly. We have names, we have addresses. Sammy?”
“Yes, son?”
“I took the liberty of sending some boys off to do section 18 searches at their places. Yes, I know, and before anyone gets clever, all three have been nicked on the strength of what they coughed to”
I gave my boy my own smile of encouragement, just as Ellen mouthed ‘go on’ at him, and he shuffled his notes. My Fresh Meat was fast becoming a bloody good copper, but he was still a nervous one.
“Er, we have three bodies, as you know. The first one is Jordan Bellamy, who has coughed to being at the controls of a certain moped. He is sixteen. Number two, who is seventeen, is Tanveer Mahmood, and he has coughed to firing at Paula, as well as at Diane”
Blake was on his feet as I sat shocked.
“What the fucking FUCK?”
He drew a couple of deep breaths, looking round the room.
“Sorry, all, but, well. What the fucking fuck?”
Once more, Jon looked to Ellen for reassurance, and after her nod looked straight at me. I caught a hint of moisture in his eyes.
“He had two home-made rounds in the gun, Di. His job was to hit both Paula and you, one after the other. The second one didn’t fire”
I felt the room suddenly twist ninety degrees and back again. What the fucking fuck, indeed. Blake was wrapped around me, but for the first time ever I was thinking about my choice of career and, at the same time, seeing Rhod wearing something black. I struggled to find my voice, and it took a while.
“Jon?”
“Yes, love?”
I savoured that word for a few seconds, telling myself it wasn’t only Carl ‘Pig’ Morris who had such a family.
“Who is number three, Jon?”
That brought a tight and humourless smile from him.
“That one? Maxamed--- that’s m-a-x-a-m-e-d--- Sharif Elmi. Paula called him ‘Mo’, if you remember. Her owner. He was very helpful. Apparently, he has a couple of wives, three daughters and two sons, and I assume he is concerned for their future health”
He grimaced.
“Fuck it. He didn’t say anything other than what he had in the way of family, but I could read his meaning. He was talking about his family’s life expectancy. Di, who the hell are we dealing with?”
“This will sound trite, mate, but all I can say is that they are utterly without limits. What did Mo tell you?”
His mouth twisted, and he waved at Ellen to take over. She gave her own version of his twisted smile, and gave us the rest.
“It’s Paula and you, Di. He sees you as the one who got her talking, then she’s off the game, and Moira’s following, and there’s other girls looking to do the same, so there he is, off his face on khat and cannabis, and it’s all your fault, Di, as well as Paula’s, and it’s like Thomas a Becket”
Lexie made her first comment.
“Who will rid me of this turbulent priest?”
“Absolutely, girl. He does open house for kiddies, grooms the little darlings with dope and booze, gets his gofers and his merchandise that way. Two of the kids offer to sort it out, and he arranges the weapon. He is a complete and utter fucking cunt”
The rest of the team were clearly shocked, as language like that was so untypical of Ellen. Her gaze swept the room.
“No sympathy from me, er, boys and girls. He is an utterly unrepentant predator. I am not one for topping people, but, well, just this once, yeah?”
Her chest heaved a couple of times, and I realised she was going through her own version of ‘Police, professional’, and I resolved to make sure we had that Christmas team piss-up sorted before the end of the shift. I also took a moment once again to look around the room, and especially at the man beside me, just to remind myself of how different we were. At least Carl Morris had some odd system of loyalty in his twisted life.
Ellen shook herself, and continued.
“Rhys said the weapon was unlikely to fire more than one round, and I had a quick look at the firearms team’s report. The cylinder holds two home-made rounds and an empty case, which will be from Paula’s wound. The first of the two live rounds has separated just enough to block the cylinder’s rotation. Locked the whole thing up, in fact. That one was going to be yours, Di”
Candice muttered something very un-blonde, then looked around the team.
“Dunno about the rest of you, but I am not exactly flowing with the milk of human kindness towards the little shit. I hope he’s in a real world of pain”
Ellen’s smile held no joy in it whatsoever.
“Oh, he most certainly is”
CHAPTER 33
I couldn’t fault Ellen in regard to her sentiments, and that served even more than before to show me how strongly the team held me in its collective arms. Candice had commented on my persona at the beginning: “Don’t touch me!”
Now, it was a case of the team saying exactly that, but as a communal body, and the subtext was clear: if you touch one of ours, we will do far more than touch you. Unfortunately, I didn’t think that would make any difference to Shovel Face, as Lexie called him. Pig would do as he wanted, and we would be hard put to stop him.
It would be so easy to say that I felt conflicted, as the Yanks say, but it wasn’t really the term. What he had done with the three shits had gratified the part of me that rejected the values I had espoused, and sat cheering in a corner of my soul. I saw a part of myself I really wished I hadn’t spotted.
After the briefing, I followed Ellen down to the ladies’, where she stood at the mirror repairing the face that certainly hadn’t been fighting tears. I simply leant against one of the pillars between cubicles as she sorted her eyes, saying nothing until I finally saw her staring at me by way of the mirror.
“What?”
“Sorry, Ellen. It’s just that it wasn’t you back there. I have never seen you so wound up”
“It happens”
“Not to you, girl. Not like that. I know it’s not a nice one, but we’ve had a few of those”
She was leaning on one hand as she worked on her lashes, and I saw her head drop, her right hand going down as she took the weight of centuries on her arms.
“Di?”
“Yeah?”
“You know Jon talks, don’t you? To Lexie, in particular?”
I tried to make it into a joke about Jon and women, but Ellen shushed me.
“No, Di. Don’t take the piss. It’s a fresh meat thing, isn’t it? They all came into the team after the gay-bashing result, and it’s star-struck they were, thinking they’d never live up to expectations, or at least to you, Alun, Blake, Lainey. Shooting stars is what you are”
“Bollocks!”
“No, Di. See it from their point of view. Do you have any idea of the stories that went round the force after that hard stop? Elaine wasn’t the only one who left a mark on the force and the punter all at the same time, and as I said, Jonny Boy talks. Those visits you did, that children’s home filth, you do know he was thinking of quitting? That he didn’t feel he could cut it?”
I sighed.
“Yes, girl, I did. I sort of understand, yeah, but he was so, so good in those sessions!”
She stood up, screwing her mascara brush back into its holder before turning to look at me directly rather than through the mirror’s filter.
“He had to be, Di. He couldn’t let you down. Then there was that gay couple, and he couldn’t let them down, and then there was that family, the Cumbrian one. Just so strong together, weren’t they?”
I found myself nodding.
“Bloody hell yes. Elliott senior was, well, he looks like a woman, yeah? Then he speaks, and you find yourself checking for broken bones. Bloody driven, that man; so much hatred, same thing came off his family in waves, innit?”
“Yes, Di. That’s part of what he said, but the other bit was about love. That family was so solid in its affection, its mutual support. I mean, he was a little star-struck with the pig-fart kicker, but that’s beside the point”
A joke, at last.
“You don’t like football, then?”
“Where the hell are we from, woman? Anyway, off topic. I know for a fact that he wanted out, but Sammy, the team, aye? He felt he would be letting us down if he quit, and that Elliott was one of the reasons he stayed. He came into the team to serve, Di, but you didn’t. You wanted to get payback”
I felt my mouth twisting, but I held myself together.
“I rather think I got it, Ellen”
She suddenly grinned, and it was feral Sammy there before me, just for an instant.
“Oh bloody hell, aye! You and Lainey both! But it’s not just that, is it? You joined up, took The Job to get those bastards, am I right?”
I grinned.
“Oh, absolutely, in the beginning”
A sharp nod.
“Yes, and Paula, she’s someone you see yourself in, her and Jazz and Nell, isn’t it?”
Once again, I felt my face tighten.
“I won’t deny that one”
“Yup. You couldn’t, not in all honesty. Just realise, just for a bit, that you are not the only one on the team with baggage, and for me…”
She looked past me to where the walls and ceiling joined, and there were tears.
“Snit! Have to do it all again!”
I stood in silence until she was back in control.
“Baggage, aye? That little fucker Mahmood? I had a nephew, once”
Oh shit, I thought, as I could see where the conversation was heading. Once again, her eyes found a distant focus, past me and beyond the room.
“You know this stupid term the tabloids like, Di? County lines? Kids acting as drug runners? That was Mason. Same grooming crap, same arsehole with the booze and the drugs and the video games. Wasn’t Elmi, but in essence, yes, it was. Same MO, same mind set, same utter lack of any scruples”
I ran her words through my memory, and it was there, stinking. ‘Had’ a nephew. She shrugged, and continued.
“He met Tanveer Mahmood, or some other little fucker who was just like the Yanks, I’ve got a shooter, so my cock is, must be, HUGE, some little bastard wound up and pointed and given the tools”
The tears couldn’t hide now.
“So there he is, riding a BMX, aye? Standing up, with the saddle too low to sit on cause COOL, and the only brake he has is his foot against the back tyre, because COOL, and he’s got a rucksack full of speed and crack, because fucking COOL, and three lads, from the CCTV, three lads on mountain bikes, they come out of an alley, and they flank him, and one of them shoots Mason in the back of the fucking head, and no, they don’t sprint off, and they don’t just grab the bag of gear. They take their time, and they empty his pockets, and one of them even nicks his shoes. And I know it wasn’t Tanveer Mahmood that shot him, and I know it wasn’t Maxamed fucking Elmi that groomed him, but I do not give a flying fuck. Call it sublimation, substitution, whatever. I don’t care”
She looked directly at me.
“At least you got the actual cunts you needed to, Diane, you and Paula, Jazz, nell, that Elliott lot. I just have to make do with the three shits we were handed. Mason’s version of Elmi fucked off back to Bucharest, and the shooter, Devon Barraclough, he OD’d”
Ellen laughed, and there was a smile, but it was hollow.
“Stupid thing is, Di, I took my old job for the same reasons you took this one. I had dreams, aye? ‘Floran Ionescu, I am arresting you…’. Never going to happen. We can dream, though”
She didn’t break down, not quite, but I still held her till she found Police, Professional. We both spent some time on repairs.
It wasn’t that long till trial, as for some reason the shadow of Pig had all three aiding and assisting in all things concerning getting locked up. The Plea and Direction Hearing was surreal, as none of them was fit for a wheelchair, so we had three trolleys in court, what the yanks call gurneys, as well as three very quick and uncomplicated pleas of guilty. I felt that if someone had asked about standing on a grassy knoll in the sixties, or the death of a Disney deer’s mother, they would have held their hands up.
They got a variety of sentences ranging from five years to life, but I didn’t care. I was watching Ellen, while resolving to get the team to start digging into anything to do with that fucker Elmi. That was, after all, what we did. I didn’t want him dead, but if he never, ever sat with his wives and family again, it would at least be the start of his atonement.
Ellen was right, at least in the case of Elmi. Cunt. I found myself showering when I got home, and then holding Rhod as long as I could before he started wriggling. Find the goodness, DC Sutton, find the reasons for living.
My son did almost all I needed, and then my husband completed the set.
So lucky.
The weeks went by, and finally we were, as a family, standing by Sophia Gardens waiting for a big white bus. Rhod was excited, Mam was smiling, and Bridget and Tammy looked shattered.
“Ye gods, Di, I think the coach was worse than the plane!”
She was hugging me, and I couldn’t help remembering Kevin. Sublimation, yet again. Dad drove us all back to the old place, and once more I blessed Mam’s insistence on holding onto it. Everything in the house sang to me of home, comfort, family.
Our guests tried to sleep, and we woke them to combat jet lag, but an evening In the Eli Jenkins seemed to cure that. Christmas morning came, and there were presents under a tree, but sod that. I had everyone I loved in one place: what more did I need?
CHAPTER 34
Tammy was apologetic, her Sydneyside accent strong.
“Sorry, all, but we couldn’t carry big stuff, nor things that would crush, ey? So we got you these. Had to guess at the sizes”
Four ‘Jacaru’ brand bush hats in soft brown suede-effect leather, which I guessed came from one or other hoppity beast. Tammy was gushing.
“They crush down flat, mates. Flatmates. Oh, you know what I mean. Best thing is, they are waterproof”
Mam laughed, and it was a profoundly happy sound.
“Oy, girl! This may be Wales, but it doesn’t rain ALL the time!”
Dad took her hand with a grin. “No, just most of it. Thanks, girls. You didn’t need to, you know. Just having our girl’s best friends over here is gift enough”
Bridget smiled back at him.
“That’s a present that goes both ways, Mark. Besides, we get a chance to see whether her getting married was the right decision or not”
Blake snorted.
“And your conclusion is?”
She grinned this time.
“Blake, love, I knew the answer to that when I first met you. Anyway, got this for the boy”
‘This’ turned out to be a gorgeously soft and cuddly toy koala, rather oddly, to my eyes, dressed in khaki shirt and shorts, with a miniature version of our hats attached between the ears.
“Shirt and shorts come off to wash, Di”
I could see the nerves showing as she carried on explaining things in far too much detail, just like several of my arrests.
“What’s up, Bridge?”
“What do you mean?”
“Nerves. I can spot them, isn’t it? Goes with the job. Am I right, love?”
My husband gave a slow nod.
“Yes indeed. What’s up, girls?”
Bridget looked over at her wife, who shrugged. Tammy was clearly the one with whatever issues were stirring. My oldest friend turned back to me.
“It’s a ghetto thing, Di”
“You what?”
“Where we live, it’s a ghetto, in some ways. Gay quarter, pink village, rainbow town, it’s still a ghetto in a sea of testosterone and convention. Yes, I know, Australia’s coming on, but shit---sorry---you should have seen how the equal marriage debate went. Most Aussies live in the cities, or near them, and it’s easy to think you’re in a happy place if you never go out of your safe space or the CBD. Soon as you hit the suburbs, or the wrong part of the town, or RFO, that’s when you see it”
Mam looked puzzled.
“CBD? RFO?”
“Central Business District. Right Effing Outback. Think of one of those yank films where everyone in a bar looks at you as you walk in. ‘Deliverance’ meets the Slaughtered Lamb”
Dad it was who laughed at that one.
“I know village pubs up North like that!”
Bridget nodded.
“Aye. Not really true, ey? Aussies are mostly great people, and in the Outback they’ll go miles out of their way to help a stranger. It’s just that they have some hard lines, and you don’t always see what they are till you cross them. Then, it can get painful”
I looked at my boy playing with his new friend, and wondered how his life would go, which way he might swing, as the cliché went, and knew immediately that I didn’t give a shit. If he could end up with the depth of love my parents had, or the Elliott family, or two elderly gay men in Southport, I would be happy.
“Tammy, tell you what. Blake and me, we’ll get you out in Cardiff this week, maybe New Year, and we’ll show you”
Blake squeezed my hand. “Marlene?”
I couldn’t hold back my own laugh.
“I was after reassuring them, love, not scaring them out of ten years of growth, but yes. I know several of the crew are going there, so we can ring around. You up for that, Bridge?”
“Pink pubs? Alcohol? Debauchery? I’ll have a think… Yup. I seem to have a window in my calendar. Little’un?”
Mam was giggling.
“Our treat, isn’t it? Our grandson all to ourselves, to corrupt and manipulate, mwahaha!”
Every head in the room turned to stare at her, even Rhod’s. She just shrugged.
“With Diane for a daughter, and the friends she brings here, you expected sanity from me? What are we doing tonight, Mark?”
“What we always do, Pinky. Plotting to take over the world”
I nearly spilled my tea. Somehow, without realising it, I had created a pair of monsters, and I loved the result.
As the morning moved on towards lunchtime, Mam and I packed all the others off to the seafront, Rhod in as many layers as I could manage, despite Bridget and Tammy’s protests. Mam was unmoved.
“No. Guests. Our house, our meal. Off!”
Bridget nodded at Tammy, who popped upstairs.
“Thought you might say that, so we brought some other stuff. Should go in the fridge for a while… Ah. Ta, love”
Tammy handed over a couple of clinking bags as Bridget continued gushing.
“Couldn’t stretch to the posh stiff, but there’s Italian fizz there, plus a couple of bottles of Royal Kir. Needs chilling, so I hope you have room. Got some decent chocs in there as well”
Mam took the bag in exchange for a warm smile.
“Once we start on dinner, there’ll be room, love. Nice thought, it is. Thank you. Now get out of our kitchen!”
It was a slog, but Mam and Dad had prepared some stuff the day before, and to be honest, the only thing I really hated was preparing the sprouts. I am actually one of those allegedly peculiar people who likes sprouts, and broccoli, but spending an age peeling off tiny leaves and cutting crosses in the base wears after a while. Usually about three seconds.
Thank god for Mam and Dad’s double oven, is all I shall say about the rest of our labours. By one o’clock, we were almost ready to plate, the smell of roasting meat and sage and onion filling the air. Our expeditionary party returned, a small boy hyper with Christmas joy, his cheeks pink from the cold, and ten minutes after I had settled them down with my own suggestion of hot chocolate (and what warm memories that brought back) the doorbell rang. Blake left Rhod with Tucker the koala and went to answer it.
I half heard some muttered greetings, and a lot of scraping, followed by the bang of the door shutting, and of course it was the Sedakas. Blake shut the living room door as people shuffled around to make space, and in response to my raised eyebrows, Paul explained.
“Folding chair, Di. Blake’s put it in the hallway, so careful when you go out”
I went to hug him, which was returned emphatically, but I limited my greeting for Paula to a squeeze of the hand and a peck on the cheek.
“Tammy, Bridget, meet Paul and Paula. Yes, I know, and we’ve done all the half-remembered musical jokes”
My traitor of a husband interrupted.
“When Di says ‘half-remembered’, she is speaking about herself”
“Sod!”
“Sod back!”
“Ignore my beloved. Pail, Paula, Bridget is probably my oldest friend. Went to Sydney, stayed, got married to Tammy. Girls, Paul here is a colleague of ours, and his fiancée Paula is a writer. She’s such a good one that she upset someone enough to have a go at her, as you can see”
The new arrivals settled themselves into the settee, as my parents and I moved to dining chairs. Tammy was staring at the sling supporting Paula’s arm.
“You were shot, weren’t you?”
Paula nodded, as Mam snarled out her own answer.
“Aye, she was, and the bastard who shot her tried to shoot our little girl as well. Both lucky to be alive, they are”
Bridget’s voice was quiet.
“And the culprits?”
Mam found her own inner Feral Sammy.
“My honest opinion? I think they are all UNlucky to be alive, if you take my point. Am I right, love?”
Paula answered before I could.
“I agree with Mrs Owens, Bridget”
“Dot”
“Thank you. Knowing who they upset, yes, they won’t have a comfortable life, inside prison or out of it. Me, on the other hand, oh yes!”
She looked round the room, sparing a few seconds for a smile as she watched Rhod undressing Tucker for the hundredth time.
“Bridget, do you know how Diane and I met? I don’t want to have to go through details if I don’t have to”
“She did give me some idea, mate”
“OK. Then you know what I went through, years and years of it, all starting with that pig Evans”
Tammy twitched.
“Ashley Aaron Evans?”
“The very same. He buried me, and Di dug me out again”
Paula turned a gentle smile on me.
“She had to dig herself out first, though, but with people like this around her, how could she fail? With people round me like her, and my beloved here, how could I fail? That is how I am coping with the shooting, as a kind of validation. They tried to kill me because I have hurt them, continue to hurt them, just by living the way I am now”
Bridget was grinning happily, and I could feel my own smile as I remembered a warm evening on a tropical beach, the weight of flying stones gone from my hand, the splash as the two of us dove headlong into the sea. She nodded in recognition of our shared memories, leaving me to explain.
“Paula, love, it’s from the night before my wedding. Bridge and I were on the beach that evening, talking about life, and yes, we damned Evans to hell, but Bridget summed it up for us. For you as well, clearly: the best revenge is a life lived well. That’s what we are doing, and I can see what you mean, because if they have to go to such extremes to hurt us, then by god, we must be doing just that. Sod it. Tammy? Fridge?”
She understood, as did Mam, who sorted out the glasses. Rhod shouted in glee as the corks popped, and once the bubbles had settled, Dad stood up, raising his glass.
“To Christmas. To family, and friends. To lives lived well. Cheers!”
CHAPTER 35
Dinner wasn’t just good, it was excessively so. Mam had prepared, with some help from me, a meal that consisted of just about every traditional ingredient she could fit onto the plates, and plentiful in terms of quantity as well as variety. By unspoken agreement, pudding was left for teatime. Beer and wine were not.
Dishwashers are wonderful.
It was sweet watching how Paul imitated me in cutting stuff up for his companion, even if she was rather older than Rhod. He had clearly fallen hard, and the more I saw of Paula’s resilience, intelligence and sheer spirit, the less I could blame him. Without the intervention of a certain local family, what could she have made of herself? What would I have done myself? Moot points, both of them. I had more than enough blessings to count right there and then.
“Di?”
“Uh? Oh. What?”
Blake settled my head back onto his shoulder as Rhod pushed a plastic tipper truck round the floor, Tucker perched in the back.
“You were away with the fairies. Nodding off?”
“Na, just thinking. Counting blessings, isn’t it?”
I snuggled in a little closer.
“You up for a New Year’s Eve blow out?”
“Sounds fine to me. Those two should be over their jet lag by then, lightweights that they are”
Two cushions hit him.
We were just settling down to whatever ‘blockbuster’ film or other was scheduled to coincide with our delayed dessert when my mobile rang. I looked at the caller ID: Lainey. I showed it to Blake, who simply raised an eyebrow as I disengaged and went out into the hallway. I had a touch of dread coming on, as Elaine was usually eye deep in her own family at that time of year. Police, girl. Professional.
“Lainey? You OK?”
“Aye, Diane. I’m over in Surrey, with a friend. Phone’s on speaker mode”
Surrey. All at once, I knew exactly who she meant, and I found myself collapsing onto the third of Mam’s stairs.
“Adam? I mean… Annie?”
Shit, shit, SHIT, Lainey? Why today, of all days? What happened to staying away, leaving her to live her new life? I fought my way back to P, P.
“Diane? What….”
The voice was just about the same, but then I had heard her face down her family, and she had never been the most manly of men. I slapped myself at that thought, for I had seen no man in that café, nor in her wedding photos, unless it was the one she so clearly loved. Speaker phone? Smile at Annie, and flay our friend.
“Lainey’s told me it all, or I suppose what she thinks I should know, A—nnie. I didn’t want to rock your boat, and, well, Elaine, this is a bit of a surprise, isn’t it? Not quite what we agreed, not at all”
Before I could start telling Elaine her fortune, I heard her wife’s voice, and knew that things would be straightened out without my help.
“Diane?”
“Yeah?”
“Elaine’s gone off with Siân, left me the phone, aye? Sounds like she’s overstepped more than a bit”
I found myself weeping, and there was no reason for it. Nobody had been hurt, no lives were being wrecked, but it was all so bloody awkward. What was I supposed to say to her? She took the initiative, thankfully.
“What has she told you about me, Di?”
“Ah, stuff, you know, and I’ve been keeping an eye out, following the press and stuff”
“I’d never have put you down as a stalker, woman”
I caught the smile in her words in time to avoid biting.
“Bit hard to avoid, Annie, what with that bomb and stuff. How is Sergeant Armstrong?”
“Oh, not back to his best, but still very tasty… Forget I said that bit, aye? He’s getting stronger every day. Touch and go a bit when, you know, but he’s got a strong wife. Dad now as well”
Her voice went a little distant.
“Dennis Adam, that’s his boy; and Elaine tells me you have one of your own. Why that name, Di?”
“How could I not, Annie? You’re a hard one to forget”
She sighed.
“You do know I don’t swing that way, don’t you? Married? Eric?”
“I had worked that one out. Lainey showed me some pictures from your wedding. Now and again, I make a decision that’s right”
“Eh?”
“I never asked you out, did I? One of my few good decisions, that one and picking my own man. Now, how are we going to sort her out?”
“Punishment?”
“No, not that. She’s not well, Annie. I don’t think she’s been well for some time. You know about the men we lifted for the gaybashing?”
“Aye. Your rape as well. You are not the only one to follow the news”
“You know about Sarah?”
“Ah. I see. Does she know?”
“No. We agreed to keep her out of it. Trouble is, I think Lainey’s focus got a little tight, if you take my point. Little things, little tells, isn’t it? Always on about ‘three of them’ even when it was loads more”
The more I spoke to her, the easier it became. My old friend was still there, if slightly filtered, and it was clear that the filter in question was simple comfort in herself. Annie was silent for some seconds.
“Annie?”
“Yes?”
“She’s broody, isn’t she?”
Her answering sigh was so long and loud I wondered if the phone had broken.
“Absolutely, Di. Both of them are. Dennis doesn’t help. And please take this the right way, but you make it worse”
“What the hell can we do?”
Suddenly, she was laughing. I waited for her to finish, and she was almost apologetic.
“Sorry, girl. Had a really silly thought, didn’t I? I’ve overheard a few things; Elaine hasn’t exactly got the softest of voices, has she? Both of them, her and Siân, they’re going for IVF, aye? I was going to say her brother-in-law’s giving her a hand, but I suspect the hand in question is actually Sarah’s”
I found myself laughing at that, even as my eyes continued to leak.
“You are one dirty sod, Annie!”
“Nope! Just a happily and healthily married woman. Anyway, you are right. I think she’s been losing it for a while, but she’s got strong people around her. Now, what are we going to do? You and me, aye?”
“Oh, shit knows, woman!”
It suddenly felt right to say that, so I kept up the flow.
“I asked her to leave you alone, Annie. No old ghosts at the feast sort of thing. I will be honest: I don’t know where we will go, you and me, but I think we both need a little time to settle things”
“Aye. I don’t think she was thinking when she rang you, so I am off to see she’s OK and then get on with our own Christmas, me and my man. One day, Di, one day we’ll sit down together, aye?”
“Aye. Keep in touch, please”
“I will do. So long for now, my sweet woman”
She hung up abruptly, and I found myself sobbing, Blake appearing to hold me as if he was telepathic. I couldn’t explain, not just then, so I washed my face, dug out a smile and went back to my family.
One advantage of being on a team like mine should be obvious, and blindingly so in the holiday season. We had slogged over what I found myself thinking of ‘Chrismas’, but the actual party nights had been left alone. Elaine had worked them, of course, but then she was brass, and rank hath its obligations. We had no big jobs on after our three packages had been so neatly delivered, and so for what seemed like, and in fact actually was, the first ever year I had been free for the whole week I fully intended to make the most of our opportunities.
We spent a few days as tour guides, of course, and we had one slightly awkward outing insisted on by Bridget, to a certain car park. Tammy was the one who surprised me there, bringing out a small piece of crinkly paper.
“It’s an Italian biscuit wrapper, Di. Trick we do in restaurants, and Bridge told me what she did with the stones, so I thought of another way. Have a look, mate”
She had written on several of the unfolded papers, simple things like ‘Fear’, ‘Pain’ and so on. There was no wind for once, and she set one of the papers on that wall I remembered so well and produced a cigarette lighter.
“Watch, love. Works indoors; not tried it outside yet”
She sparked up the lighter and touched it to the paper, and to my surprise it flew straight up into the air, burning up so completely it seemed to leave no residue at all. I got her idea immediately, and it was a wonderful book-end to match my old friend’s pebbles. That was when I really saw what Bridget had seen when she met Tammy, and at least part of why she loved her. As we worked through the wrappers, our messages grew sillier and sillier, and when Tammy lit one that read ‘sand in sunblock’ I saw the real value of her little game.
Bridget had hurled Ashley Evans out of my life, while Tammy reduced him to the level of gritty Factor 25. I took it one step further, burning ‘dogshit on trainers’ to seal the point. There were other people using the car park that day, and I am sure they must have thought we were barking mad.
I didn’t care. I was with family and friends, I was deeply in love with all of them, and I was free.
I saved one wrapper for a private sort-of-prayer, and as it flew aloft to vanish in a wisp of smoke, the words ‘Old Adam’ went with it.
CHAPTER 36
I felt better after that, enough to talk at last to my husband. We lay in the darkness at Mam’s, our last night before we would decamp back to our old house along with the girls. Rhod was burbling away in his little pull-out bed, while I just lay wrapped around my husband, street lighting leaking enough around the curtains to see his expressions.
“Christmas, love. I had some news”
“That phone call?”
“Yeah…”
“If it’s a problem, you don’t have to tell me”
Every now and again, he did something to demonstrate, to confirm, how right I had been in at least one of my choices.
“Love?”
“Aye?”
“I was just thinking, as you said that, about life choices, and well, that’s the thing. I’ve made a few good ones. Joining the police was one, and you were another”
He kissed the top of my head.
“There’s more, though”
“Yes. Not ever asking Annie out, that was another”
I felt him tense.
“Please tell me nothing’s happened”
I reached round to squeeze his forearm, reassuringly.
“No, not that. The call was from Elaine, but she was with Annie at the time”
“I am guessing that she passed the phone to her”
“Yup. A bit of a surprise, that one”
“I bet. How did it go? I take it you two had a chat?”
“Er, yeah. Went well, I think. In the end, it was more about Lainey. She’s not been well, love”
“I know that. I think she’s lost her way a bit, since we locked them all up”
“Yeah…”
“More?”
My husband, my partner. Sod it.
“Her and Siân, innit? Both broody”
“Oh. Oh! Shit, that must have been hard. The holiday, I mean. The kids. Kev is stuck on her, isn’t he?”
I sighed.
“Yes, he is. Sublimated, or whatever the term is, but I don’t think he ever lost that love”
Blake chuckled a little,
“Two of you, then, on that bus”
“Beg pardon?”
“You’ve never lost that torch of your own, have you? For Adam, as was?”
I lay silent for a few seconds, till he squeezed me again.
“Di, love, you never will, aye? You spotted someone decent, and they’re still that decent person. You just need to build a different relationship to the one you were hoping for”
I squeezed him back before rolling onto him.
“I built my decent relationship, love. Try not to wake Rhod…”
Everything packed up the next morning, we set off for our own house, Dad driving Mam and the girls so that we had enough space for Rhod’s car seat, which, as ever, spurred by memories of Adam at the side of the road, I made bloody sure was safely secured. We put the car away, Dad leaving his on the drive as he offloaded their suitcases and what seemed like half of what Mam had cooked for Christmas, including a tin of mince pies. While they didn’t reach Gemma’s heights of delight, they were still bloody good, as I confirmed once the kettle was boiled and tea poured. Blake gave Rhod and Tucker some quality time on the rug while I did the entertaining duties. Tammy was curious.
“What’s this place like, then, tomorrow?”
“Gay bar, or rather pub. Landlord’s a drag queen, so expect the usual bitchy persona. Be a load of colleagues there, but the local crowd is quite welcoming. They know who we are. Not a worry, though”
“Christ; sounds just like home. They got some sort of trading standard list thing? List of standard-issue stuff to tick?”
“Pretty much. We sort of adopted the place when we had that big job on”
Mam laughed.
“Not our sort of place at all, Dad and me! We’ll be watching the telly and the boy while you all get silly, so we will expect a quiet return home, isn’t it?”
Dad was trying his best to keep his own laughter down, but it was clearly giving him some difficulties.
“Di, love, you thought you’d moved out, didn’t you? Mothers rule, that’s the lesson”
I tried to give him the Mam-stare I had been practising, but I knew it was below par.
“Two mothers in this house!”
Bridget let the laughter die down before asking the obvious question.
“So, Di. Tonight: what rig? Trapping kit or comfortable shoes? Oh, shut up, Blake!”
I thought about that one for a bit, but once more the answer was obvious.
“If you want to spend all night on stilts wearing a fanny pelmet, go ahead, but this MOTHER and HOUSEWIFE is going to be in comfy shoes of her own. Dunno about hubby, though. You going for the four-inch heels again, Blake?”
He shook his head, po-faced.
“Nope. Thought I would stick with the PVC dress and the rubber thigh boots, but take something kinky to change into if it turns out to be that sort of night. You never know who you might meet”
Sometimes, I found myself falling in love with him all over again.
We set off for the city that evening in Dad’s car, Blake, naturally, in the front seat with us three girls filling the back one. He dropped us off near John Lewis, the streets steadily filling with revellers and uniformed police, and Blake and I led the way through the scattered groups to our little home from home. Bridget paused at the front door, looking at the licensee plate and a little one next to it.
“What’s that all about?”
‘Probably the best bar named after a policewoman in the world’
Marlene was clearly getting worse. I shrugged, led the way in and then pointed to the sign over the smaller bar.
“Marlene’s way of saying thank you to Lainey, though it’s really a sort of wider, community thing. She made a big impression”
Music was already thumping out from the main bar, but our smaller room wasn’t too noisy, nor too full. I found a space at the bar, and was greeted in the expected way.
“Look what the fucking cat dragged in! Any misbehaviour and that big boy will be dragged out of here and straight up to my flat! First round free to you. Who are the girlfriends?”
“Marlene, my oldest friend Bridget, over from Australia, and her wife Tammy”
“Well darling, you throw one boomerang, tie one fucking kangaroo down, and you are toast! And leave that didgeridoo with the doorman”
Tammy was laughing happily.
“Christ, mate, this is JUST like being back home, ey?”
“Well, don’t get too comfortable. We sent you convicts away for a fucking god reason. Now, drinks? We’re doing special cocktails tonight”
Our order was filled efficiently and quickly, and Marlene’s attention flicked quickly to a new target. Forever the professional host, he wasn’t dismissing us, just doing his job, and the fact that he clearly saw that we understood warmed me. Inclusion without pretence.
Our group expanded steadily, as Candice arrived in full blonde mode, Ellen dragged Rob in, Rhys and Jonny Boy walked in hand-in-hand for once, to cheers from the rest of us, and then, to my astonishment, Alun, with a woman of around his own age. She looked drawn, and was walking with a stick. Tammy saw, and immediately turned to a group of young lads sitting at a table nearby, one of whom simply nodded and passed her the chair he had been occupying.
Alun looked a little out of sorts, and I realised it was nervousness.
“Mates, Lynne here fancied a proper New Year’s, so I hear and obey, isn’t it? Lynne, love, this is Rob; Ellen; Rhys and Jon. Jon’s the little one. Office blonde here is Candice. Di and Blake I’ve told you about”
I prayed a certain female PCSO wouldn’t show her face, before realising that, as a clearly straight woman, she wouldn’t be within miles of a gay bar.
“Hiya, Lynne. The girl who got you the seat is my friend Tammy, and this is her other half Bridget”
Lynne smiled, lines in her face showing more than a little strain.
“Heard a lot about you all, haven’t I? Good to put faces to names at long last. Sorry and all, but I have a couple of problems, healthwise. CFS, for starters”
Rhys looked puzzled, so Lynne smiled sadly at him.
“Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. One of those nasty little things they haven’t found a cause for, much less a cure. Does what it says on the tin, isn’t it? Never any strength for anything, always drained”
She looked over to her husband, a warmer smile in place.
“Picked well, I did, with this one. Without Al here, dunno what state I’d be in. Anyway, enough of me. We doing a whip? And a curry at some point?”
She was absolutely and definitely Alun’s wife, and the way she fitted in with our group dynamics was seamless, even to the extent of having worse jokes than her husband.
Our group expanded steadily, some people dropping by for a minute or two to say hello, others, like Scott and Omar, staying with us for the evening. I found myself looking round for Deb’s charges, but as they seemed to be straight, in the main, I assumed they were off celebrating their own way, and knowing Charlie and Tiff, their style would almost certainly involve fanny pelmets.
Sod it: it was New Year’s Eve. Wind your style critic in, DC Sutton.
Deb herself, though, made her own appearance, and her clear relaxation and happiness in our crowd was a delight. As long as I had known her, she had been under tension, and now she seemed freer, happier to laugh and flirt, although I did notice her alcohol intake was minute.
“Hi, you two. Paul tells me the Christmas dinner was a humdinger”
Blake gave her a hug of welcome.
“Aye, so much so that we are still eating it”
“Ah, son, that’s traditional. Remember the stock cube ad?”
On cue, several people laughed, and in unison said “Turkey---ish!”, the punchline to a well-known story of day after day of leftovers of the turkey kind, until the housewife says the day’s meal is kebabs and is asked if they, like the previous week’s menu of stews, soup, stir-fries, etc, might be more leftover Christmas roast. I was still chuckling when there was a loud shout.
“You bitches! How very DARE you start without moi and my hunk here?”
Alun didn’t even look up from his pint.
“Lynne, love? Meet Chris O’Connor. Just ignore him and he won’t go away”
Darius was shaking his head, I didn’t know whether in denial, despair, disbelief or simply the recognition that he had made a dreadfully wrong decision. It set the mood for the rest of the evening, although Alun and Lynne left straight after our curry. That didn’t stop the rest of us from returning to the Smuggler’s for the traditional countdown and snog.
Dad picked us up around one in the morning, and Blake and I slept right through till eleven and Mam’s appearance with a tray of tea and a bed-bouncing little boy.
One day sufficed to clear my hangover, which left me fully functional when the first of the bodies was found in the Usk.
CHAPTER 37
We were back in the office on January 3rd, and I spent the morning going through the parish notice e-mails, or, as we called them, after the head admin woman who issued them all, ‘Weller Deletes’. Open—scan—delete. Several were attached to a read receipt system, so I then took a while longer deleting the out-of-office auto-replies to the auto-replies to…
It filled the morning for me, between sessions of team brew-ups and runs out to the local supermarket for biscuits and muffins.
There was a little office gossip, a few salacious post-New Year’s Eve debauchery stories, something or other about football; a pretty quiet morning. We each had a pile of dross to work through, whether it be disclosure schedules, CCTV footage comparisons, timeline analysis, so on and so forth.
Sammy was with us in the big room that morning, looking ridiculously fresh and cheerful in comparison to some of my colleagues. Candice in particular seemed to have had the hangover from hell, so apart from leaving the occasional brew by her elbow we were all leaving her well alone.
Sammy’s mobile broke the near-silence.
“Patel!”
His face fell.
“Where and when?”
“CID teed up?”
“Ah. Yes, I know he does. Ah. We have access, need to know”
“Yes, I know, but with all due respect, sir, you don’t need to know, and I think it’s best that way”
“Full team today. Nothing that can’t be shelved for now”
He took the phone away from his ear, staring the ceiling for a few seconds while clearly choosing his words.
“Once again, with all due respect, that is hardly our role, sir. Why not SOCO or CID?”
What was coming back down the phone made him wince, and he started nodding, forgetting he was invisible to the caller.
“Fine, sir. Understood. I will brief them now”
He closed up his phone with a bang.
“Shit, fuck and fucking shitty bollocks! Team meeting, mates. Now, OK? Get a brew first. Lexie? White coffee, please”
He was sitting shaking his head as she passed him the cup, hot from our wonderful urn. The rest of us gathered round the desk he was sitting at, pulling chairs with us rather than perching on the edge of a table. There was a clear feeling this was going to be heavy.
Sammy took a sip, wincing at the heat, opening up his e-mails as we gathered. He nodded sharply, tapped some keys, read for a few seconds, then swore again.
“Mates, I need a quick sit-rep on diaries. Anything that’s planned for the next two weeks for starters, and in particular anything that can’t be postponed, with the reasons. Anyone?”
I spent a couple of minutes, as did the others, and there was nothing from anyone apart from two appointments to collect witness statements from members of the public.
“Right, mates. Ellen, Lexie? You clear everything apart from those. Your witnesses have been waiting long enough for a result, and I won’t give them any more grief than absolutely necessary. Here’s where we stand. CID are all tied up with annual leave, court, handy excuses like that, so this particular shit bomb is being dropped in our laps. Sorry. We have one particularly shitty job, so I will be asking for volunteers, and for once I really mean volunteers”
He paused to read what lurked on his screen, grimaced, and turned back to us.
“Alun, you still got those keys? LIO is on leave. We’ll need to get to his tats file. Jon? Sort us the digital camera and a clean memory card. Now…”
He paused, looking round the team, looking tired.
“Mates, this is a murder enquiry. Body pulled out of the Usk, near the mouth. Not far from the Alexandra docks, about four hundred yards downstream from the entrance. Yes, Jon?”
“Serious question, boss? Why murder? Why so specific?”
Sammy winced again.
“That’s she shitty bit, mate. Partially dismembered; missing head and hands”
Someone swore, I don’t know who, and Alun laughed without any seasoning of humour.
“Hence the tats file, Sammy?”
“Hence the tats file, mate. We’ll run DNA, of course, but this is the shitty job. Visit to the morgue, and pictures of the necessary. I have no intention of telling on this one. It will be a rough one”
I looked round at my friends, understanding exactly what he meant, and my mouth answered for me, just before Rhys nodded and said that he’d go with me.
Too eager for my own good. Blake squeezed my hand in recognition, and my telepathy picked up waves of gratitude from the others.
Rhys broke the mood before it could get too heavy.
“I’ll sort us a car, Di”
“Thanks, mate. Sammy: anything else at all, any other aspects we should look for?”
“This is going to sound daft, considering our new friend is missing his head, but cause and time of death would be nice”
I started to gather my kit together as Jon brought over the camera and a brand-new SD card. Sammy called over to me as I dragged on my coat.
“Di?”
“Yeah?”
“You don’t have to do this, you know. Body’s in shit state; it’ll be nasty”
“Sammy, I know you mean well, yeah? But this is a team. We pull together. Won’t be my first stiff, what with the time I spent with Traffic”
I had a sudden vision of Adam-as-was, and a still, small form in a baby seat, covered in a blanket, in a twinkling patch of glass fragments as a mother screamed and sobbed in an ambulance. Not now, DC Sutton. Police, Professional.
“OK, mate. SOCO are down near where the body was found, and we have Uniform working carefully along the bank. Good call, by the way”
“Eh?”
“Traffic. If anyone has an eye for the little bits of evidence we need, it’ll be them”
“Nice one, Sammy. Rhys?”
“Got the unmarked Beemer, Di”
“Nice one. You can drive. Where to, Sammy? Royal Gwent?”
“Aye, love. Stop at Addison’s and get some Vick’s”
“I’ve seen the films as well. How long in the water?”
“At least three days, they say. No idea where he was put in”
I looked up.
“Bloke, then?”
“Not any more. They took his cock and balls as well”
“Jesus!”
“Still sure you want to go?”
I gave a sharp nod before P,P failed.
“We’re off, then. Come on, Rhys, before I wimp out”
It was a steady drive across to Newport, Rhys saying very little until we were just about to enter the hospital.
“Di?”
“Yes?”
“You do the pictures. Trust me; it will give you something to think about rather than the state of the client”
“Thanks, love”
“Any time, girl. If it gets too much, we take a breather. Oh: I’ve brought a Dictaphone as well. Same system the forensic boys use; saves getting precious bodily fluids on your pocket book. Again, any worries, we walk out, take a break. No shame, aye?”
“None at all, Rhys. Let’s do this”
Into Reception, identify ourselves and wait. Eventually, we had a middle-aged man in what I thought of as ‘surgical scrubs’ from some book or film I had seen, and ‘Doctor Hancock, call me Matt’ took us down to the morgue after checking our IDs yet again.
It was cold. That shouldn’t have surprised me, but for some odd reason I had been expecting something Arctic, but it was just chilly. There was an array of what looked like left-luggage lockers on one wall, and I didn’t need to ask, as I only noticed in passing. My attention was elsewhere, though, drawn to the stainless-steel table with the gutters and raised edges that dominated the centre of the room.
Our man did not look good. That sounds silly, considering how many body parts he was missing, but it was my first thought. He looked an odd blue-grey, with multiple darker patches scattered over his legs and abdomen. My next thought was of a butcher’s shop.
His arms ended in raw flesh rolled back along the end of sharply-cut bone, and all I could see were pork joints ready for basting and roasting. His neck was a mess, but I only registered that ten minutes later, after I had returned from the sluice room and wiped my mouth. Rhys handed me the camera with a nod turning on his little recorder.
“Matt?”
“Er, um. Yeah. Subject is an adult male, I would estimate from what’s left as in their forties or early fifties. Height around six foot three, weight around eighteen stone. I am estimating the height because, well. I can give you the metric equivalents later, if you want. Cause of death could be one or more of several things”
Rhys kept up the professional end as I concentrated on fighting my stomach and mastering the camera.
“Missing head not the cause?”
“No, I don’t think so. This isn’t some jihadi nutter with a kitchen knife. See the wrists?”
Concentrate on the photos, DC Sutton. Mat was in full flow now.
“The hands were sawn off. I would guess a large hacksaw or similar; very even cuts. What I can see on the vertebral column looks much the same. I would say that the head and hands were removed post-mortem. Our man wasn’t fighting against it, from the marks. Different story elsewhere, I’m afraid. Do you mind if we don’t pull him about too much? My back’s a bit iffy these days”
“Different story?”
“Oh yes. There are three deep wounds in his back, one of them extending over the trapezius. See? Mixture of blunt force trauma and incised wound”
“Suggested cause, Matt?”
“Oh, I’ve seen that before, when I worked in Northumberland. Axe wounds. Someone hit him three times from behind with an axe. Or he had a really unlucky fall, then repeated it twice. The one you can see the top edge of shattered his right scapula. There are other wounds here… see? And a couple of contusions”
“Summary, Matt?”
“Oh, my best guess is that he was set on by more than one person, and the ones in front of him caught him with the flat of an axe blade. The bruising isn’t as concentrated or as linear as would be the case with a rod, something like an iron bar or baseball bat”
There were tattoos. I concentrated on the tattoos, which kept the visual stuff from freaking me out, but I could still hear.
“So, in essence, he was chopped up. Once dead, they removed his head and hands, and my estimate is that he went into the water around three days ago. Cause of death could have been from loss of blood, as the wounds are more than deep enough, but there’s another wound under the sternum and into the liver. Hepatic portal vein was opened. Thinner blade. Bayonet, kitchen knife or similar”
We did the necessary, and kept our time there as short as possible, but Matt wasn’t finished. As we emerged from the odd mixture of dark corners and overhead glare that was his kingdom, he dropped the last little nugget on us.
“Oh, one more thing. The missing genitalia?”
Rhys had to ask, and Matt smiled, with as little humour as had been held by Alun’s earlier laughter.
“That’s the thing, you see. The cuts are all rather ragged. He was alive and struggling when that happened”
CHAPTER 38
I managed to avoid another trip to the sluice room, but only just, and not for the first time I wondered how and why I had ended up in such a job. There was more, but Matt’s summary covered it rather neatly. Discounting the possibility of an utterly bizarre and complicated accident, our man had been beaten and badly wounded with axes. Not swords; Matt went into rather too much detail about the different wounds he would have expected if someone had been channelling some Japanese ninja film.
While still alive, and presumably conscious, he had been comprehensively gelded, then finished off with a stab slanting upwards from underneath the ribcage. His head and hands had then been sawn off with a fine-toothed implement.
Matt promised us a formal report within three days (“Got to slice him open and have a look inside; you don’t need to watch that bit”) and we set off back to James Street. Neither of us was up to conversation till we hit the edge of the city, and Rhys took a detour. It was a brilliant idea. I let him do the talking.
“Hiya! What can I get you?”
“Hiya back, Gemma. We’ve had a very bad morning, and we need something really, really nice for the team. Bad taste in the mouth, aye?”
She nodded.
“I get days like that as well. Big cakes or bags of finger food?”
“Um, couple of cakes and a bag of nibbles?”
“Give me a couple of minutes, then. I know what your lot like”
We were soon back in the car together with four bags of Danish pastries, a coffee and walnut cake and a beetroot cake, which our friend assured us would neither taste like beetroot (“Think carrot cake”) nor turn our pee red. Into the yard, dump the snacks in the office, and download the memory card. I got a number of looks as I sat at the machine, but they were looks of sympathy and comprehension, not Looks. I ran off and sealed the evidential disc, then made some working copies.
“Alun, mate? You got your keys?”
“Yup”
“I’m going to sort a few pics here, just the tats. I’ll add a note of where they were… Right. Should be coming out of the printer now”
“You OK, girl?”
“Just about. Had a couple of moments in the morgue”
“No shame there, Di. Well done. Anything so far?”
“Leave it to a team session, aye? Rhys is off dumping the DNA, so we’ll find out who he is, was, in a bit”
“As long as he was known, Di”
“I suspect he will have been, Alun. This sort of thing is too heavy for it to be some random Joe Public. Prints should be done”
“Got them. Let’s see… Ah. There’s a starter for ten, if ever I saw one. Spot this, Di?”
He showed me one of the pictures, which was one I had found difficult to take as the tattoo in question had been on the side of what was left of the victim’s neck, and the top edge was partly obliterated by the tearing of the flesh. Sammy was straight over.
“What you got, mate?”
“This one. Looks like the bottom half of a number. I… shit, that isn’t funny”
He looked at our puzzled stares, wincing slightly.
“I was just about to say I didn’t want to stick my neck out, but… Anyway, what do you think? Is that the lower half of a 23 or a 13? If it’s 23, I know where this is going”
I was lost, and my friend saw.
“Di, love, it’s letter code. 13 stands for either the thirteenth letter of the alphabet, ‘M’, or the first and third. Traditionally, it is M-for-marijuana. You heard of Combat Eighteen?”
“Of course. Evil Nazi bastards, innit?”
“Yes, but it’s One Eight, not Eighteen. ‘A H’ for their hero Adolf. Same with an 81 tattoo”
“H A?”
“Hell’s Angels. If this is 13, it could be anyone. If it is 23, then I will lay odds I know who this is. If not individually, then at least the group they were with”
“23? ‘B C’, then?”
“Y Brawdoliaeth Cymreig. An MC from up Merthyr way. I think we might have a war on, if it is”
Sammy was wincing with real distaste now.
“I hope to fuck you are wrong, Alun. Off and dig, yeah? Let me know as soon as; if you are on the money, this will need to go upstairs sharpish. Counterterrorism, for starters”
My face betrayed me, and for the first time I saw the Asian man behind the Welsh.
“Di, not all terrorists have got brown skin and are called Abdul. If Alun is right, we have some serious shit hitting the fan. Do me a favour and get that written up double-quick. If it’s a war, then we’ll have more bodies very soon”
I settled down at my terminal and transcribed the report from Rhys’ little recorder, trying but only partially succeeding to put memories of pork joints beyond the back of my mind. It did eat up some of the time, though, till Alun was back. I spent some of the rest trying to enjoy Gemma’s beetroot cake through the lump stuck in my throat. It was actually very nice, in the firm, moist way of a carrot cake, the root’s natural sugars doing enough work to avoid needing the cloying effect of adding more of the usual sweetener.
Alun was back surprisingly quickly, after less than three hours.
“LIO was actually in, so I knocked this time. Saved me the embarrassment of him walking in on me, thankfully. We’ve got a possible match”
He waited till we had drawn our chairs up around Sammy before showing us the card.
“Handy that Callum was in, to be honest. When I said he was anal, I didn’t know exactly how far up his fundament he actually is. He set me to looking through the ‘necks’ files, so I could cover both 13 and 23, but he went straight to his gang files. He’s been tracking members for bloody decades, cross-indexing, the whole shebang. He even tracks their membership history”
He snorted, once again without humour.
“He showed me one card he had which started with a kid from a school gang, the sort that goes out looking for a fight with thirteen-year-olds from another school because of just because, aye? Timeline on the card shifts to some street gang shit, via time with a twat like Mo Elmi, then actual time banged away care of Her Majesty’s Pleasure, followed by his joining an armed robbery crew and then Long Lartin”
Sammy nodded, then held up a hand.
“He’s good at his job, then, but cut to the chase?”
“Ah, that’s just it, Sammy. Most of the time I spent down there was having him Intelsplain how it all worked. Once he’d finished telling me all about it, finding the match was as quick as a quick thing”
“What have we got, then?”
“Decent match for the tats Di brought back, and that was a ‘23’ on his neck, girl. Our headless iron horseman was Henry Michael Yardley, known as Badger. Current address in Aberdare. I was going to put uniform up there on standby, but then I had a thought. He was the Sergeant-at-Arms for the Brawdoliaeth, so I have left Callum to do some digging into any other properties he might control. The BC have had three days to clean his place, though, so anything tasty will be gone by now. I was just wondering if we need to announce that we know who he was”
Every now and again, Alun drops in a little observation that betrays how sharp he is and how much experience he has from CID. I reached over to squeeze his arm.
“Nice one, mate. I’d have sent the boys straight in. What’s the call then, boss?”
“Hang fire on that one for mow, but I would like a couple of you to do a drive-by, eyeballs on the property. There’s nothing back yet from the search by the docks, but I have two hopes for that, one of them being Bob. Di?”
“Yes?”
“You got your notes up to speed enough to take upstairs?”
Shit. “I think so”
“OK. We’re off, and I want a slice of each cake and two pastries bagged and saved for me. I know exactly what a thieving flock of gannets you lot are. Grab your stuff, girl”
When Sammy said upstairs, he meant Bevan Williams. There were two people waiting in an office so far above my pay grade I thought my nose would bleed, with the obligatory tray of decent coffee with Bourbon biscuits. Sammy made the introductions.
“Diane, the Super you know. This is Chief Inspector Brad Cobner, from the TSG, or whatever TLA they have these days, Brad, this is DC Di Sutton, one of my star players”
Cobner grinned at Sammy.
“You always were a cheeky little bugger, Patel! We are not the bloody TSG, bunch of, well, you know my views. Di, was it?”
“Yes, sir”
“Brad in here, Di. Grab a pew, and I’ll give you some background, cause I think Sammy’s probably been too busy to brief you”
I dropped into a seat and Sammy handed me a coffee.
“Brad and I joined together, but he went a different route. He’s actually with CTSFU, based up in Brum”
Counter Terrorism Specialist Firearms Unit. Shit.
Brad looked over to me, nodding in thanks to Sammy.
“Your boss put a shout in for us as soon as you and your oppo got the tats confirmed. I will say one thing, and that is that I bloody hate helicopters. Remember what happened last month?”
“Um, I have been a little busy, sir. Brad. We had a shooting, friend of mine”
“I heard. We were heads-up on that one, but it was apparently, er, sorted out by persons unknown. Am I right?”
“Just about”
“Well, we both know who it was, and we also recognise their care in remaining out of the frame they should be in. Thing is, they have competitors, and they don’t follow RIPA or any other procedural rules. Said competitors upped it a notch shortly after your early Christmas presents”
I looked across at Sammy, recognising the two men’s kinship, their shared sense of humour. Sammy raised both eyebrows to me, that wince back in his face.
“We didn’t associate this until you did the morgue run, mate. Biker on a Harley came off on the M5, on his way to Cardiff from Brum. Truck went over his head, so all a bit of a mess. Traffic reviewed the CCTV and saw something odd. That’s what Brad told me a few hours ago. Nothing made sense till you got that tattoo”
He waved to Cobner, who took up the baton seamlessly.
“They were trying to see if the lad had been clipped by another vehicle or any other hint as to why he might have come off. Very poor quality footage, bad light, details all a bit blurred. Anyway, he’s rolling along, all bad ass broadsheet-on-the-bog”
“Pardon?”
Bev Williams was chuckling. “Your sense of humour is getting worse, Brad. Thank the Lord you cleared off, so I only have Sammy to put up with. Diane, it’s a description of the sort of riding position he was in. Imagine sitting on a toilet reading a broadsheet paper like the Telegraph”
Sammy slithered forward in he chair, arms out and wide at shoulder height, knees apart. Ah!
Brad tipped an imaginary hat to Sammy.
“Your boss hasn’t heard all of this. Bit rapid response today. Anyway, our boy is Bad and Nationwide in the middle lane, just finished passing a Polish articulated lorry and a BMW goes past them both in lane three. There’s just enough detail in the video to pick out the passenger’s head and arm, both out of the window, and then the bike does a shimmy, and the rider goes under the front of the lorry. Beemer keeps on going”
I had a flashback to a moped, two up, Paula falling, blood.
“He was shot, wasn’t he?”
“Yup. Once the video was in, someone brought in their mate’s metal detector thing. The victim’s head was strawberry jam, but the round was still there, and with that they had a better look at his crash helmet, which was more than a bit broken, and once they pieced the splinters together, there was the bullet hole. Nine mill. I shouldn’t really say this, but speaking professionally, I almost admire the bastard’s shooting. It was a very, very neat hit, and that is why I am down here”
I knew immediately where this was going, and looked across to Sammy for confirmation.
“One of Pig’s boys?”
“Not just one of them. Not just one of his club brothers, but his actual brother, same parents. That is why we gave Brad a shout, and why I am about to block all leave on the team for the foreseeable future. There’s a war on”
CHAPTER 39
I had been suspecting something like that, of course, but it was still a lot to take in, so I sat for a few seconds listening to the grown-ups talking. Sammy cut to the crux of it.
“Where does that leave us?”
Brad’s mouth twisted, eyebrows up, and he shrugged, palms out. It seemed to be his little habit.
“Honestly? Rock and hard place, as ever. At the moment they’re just hitting each other, and yes, I know what you’re thinking, and it would be nice. But we can’t just offer to hold their coats and get the popcorn out. This is serious criminality, and we do have a duty, etc. We also have a duty of care, because this will spread”
I held a hand up, getting my six penn’orth in.
“Did some reading, didn’t I? After meeting Pig, yeah? How many allied or aligned MCs are there locally, and does this go up the chain to the really big boys?”
Brad nodded, looking to our own boss for approval, and then continued.
“We have six or seven other clubs within what can be termed their catchment area, but once again, that won’t be the problem, at least as far as the Press is concerned”
I must have looked ready to interrupt, and he cut me off.
“Yes, I know, but it is all part of the politics, and we can’t get away from it. It will be the fall-out, in this situation; the collateral damage, as the Yanks put it. Your friend was shot, am I right?”
“Yes. I’m told they were after me as well”
“Yes. Goes with your work, I’m afraid”
“Oh, thanks. Sir”
He grinned, and it was a nice one.
“Don’t mention it, Di. I hear the culprits were delivered trussed and oven-ready, and that’s where I am worried this might go. These clubs aren’t just clubs but businesses. They have extended portfolios, as the business wonks say. There are things they do, things they subcontract, and other things they cream off. Think of a variety of protection rackets and similar games. Tattooists, niche pubs, MCC rallies, all sorts of little earners and influence-boosters. Those are the real worries. And much as the popcorn would be as nice as I suggested, we can’t. They have to be made to play nicely, even if we don’t really give a shit about the casualties. So we have a job of work ahead”
Bev smiled at Sammy, no humour there at all.
“We are back to where your team found its feet, Sammy. We need to know who is who, what is what, and who has it. I believe our anal little LIO has a gangs file?”
I laughed out loud, neither me nor Sammy needing to answer that one, and Bev chuckled as well.
“Then we need to expand it. I want a package ASAP, showing who is on which side, their numbers, which businesses are connected, any middlemen or cut-outs. Di?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Your brother-in-law. Will he be happy to play with your team? I don’t want to make a higher-level approach unless we know he will be on board. This is going to be a complex bit of analysis, and I want no pressed men”
“Want me to ask?”
“Please. Sub rosa, of course. Brad, Sean Sutton works for HMRC in their fraud unit”
“Er, sorry sir, but not any more. They all got subsumed into the National Crime Agency”
“Oh, bugger. I had forgotten that bit”
“Um, so has he, sir. Pardon my French, but Blake says he isn’t happy. ‘Been a fucking Customs Officer all my life, they can stick their poncey TLAs up their fucking arse’. What Blake tells me Sean thinks. Said. Sir”
I had to pass Sammy a tissue from my bag so that he could wipe up the snot from his explosive laughter, and then Brad asked for one as Bev just grinned happily.
“Think my team has the right attitude, Brad?”
Sammy was quick off the mark.
“Sorry, sir, but WHOSE team?”
As Bev shook his head, Sammy’s old mate gave a particularly evil grin.
“From what I hear, it was Elaine Powell’s team, my friend!”
Bevan held up a hand.
“Enough! I think we’ve achieved the appropriate working relationship here, for which I thank you all. Now, we need to get the team settled in, HMRC or NCA or whatever Sean is onside, and perhaps a summary of what your team’s plans are, Brad”
“OK. Short form, once more. I don’t propose moving a dedicated team down here. I know you already have a good firearms team in place, so I propose leaving them as the lead unit. I will be staying on site, though, so I will be able to maintain an overview. We have contacts who can assist with rapid deployment if necessary. They have better helicopters, for a start”
“Brad?”
“Yes, Di?”
“These contacts. They be from Hereford, by any chance?”
He just grinned and nodded.
Bev closed the meeting, effectively kicking two of us out, and back at our office Sammy laid out the new tasking for the team.
“Mates, new wall boards for this one, and we need locked door protocol from here on in. I want two boards, one for each club, but I want them set up next to each other. Satellite clubs, members listed beneath. Associated businesses off applicable names. Look for cross-links”
Candice had her hand up.
“Specifically?”
“Clever buggers who think they can play both ends against the middle”
Ellen looked puzzled, which surprised me.
“There are really people that thick? Where the hell do they find them?”
“From recent experience, floating in the Usk. Now, this is mostly going to be indoors stuff for a while, but we will need some surveillance work. Di?”
“Yes?”
“Not you. They know your face too well. Sorry”
It irked, but Sammy was absolutely right. Pig knew who I was, and it could be guaranteed the rest of his boys would. I didn’t really mind, though, because at least I would be warm and dry, and that was never a small thing in a Welsh winter. He hadn’t finished.
“There have been two killings so far. There WILL be more. This isn’t just business for them, it’s face as well. That means there are likely to be more visits to the morgue. If anyone has issues with that sort of work, I am open to requests, and I will not insist on anyone going. I know I don’t really have to say this, but it is all about the team. If you don’t think you can handle it, say so, but remember that you are adding to your mates’ workloads. On the other hand, or lack of them in the last case, if you think you are strong enough, ditto. We all have individual strong points, so let’s use them to the max. All clear?”
He got the agreement he knew would come back his way, and we started the long and now familiar work of setting out our stall. Within two hours, I was back in my old world of half-dreaming free association as my mind wandered over possible connections.
‘Old’? No, not that old. I was still comparatively fresh to policing of that sort, but in the end my development in it had been rather accelerated. I wondered, a little idly, which had been the worst moment, a certain prison visit in Cumbria or an afternoon in the morgue…
“Sammy?”
“Yes, Di?”
“Who do they have banged away just now? Pig’s lot and their rivals?”
“Good call, mate. Job for the LIO, I think. Alun? Leave him to it, please, but we might need to do a visit or two”
Lexie looked up from cutting out a photo.
“Isn’t it like the Mafia, Sammy? All omerta and sealed lips?”
“Aye, but they aren’t the only inmates. The Prison Service has its own network of sources, so let’s see if we can’t tap into that as well. Nice one, team”
Head back down, I settled into my usual reverie, and I got so deeply into my dream state I was astonished to find it was half-past five and Blake was gone. Candice looked over from the door, where she was putting her coat on.
“You were really away with the fairies, girl! Blake’s gone for your boy. No hurry, no worry”
She settled her bag onto her shoulder just as the office phone rang. With a mutter, she picked it up.
“Serious Crimes Review…”
“Oh bollocks. Sorry. I’ll get the boss over. Sammy!”
As he emerged from his little corner, she pressed the mute button on the phone.
“Avon and Somerset, Sammy”
“Put it on speaker, mate—ta. Inspector Sammy Patel here. Who am I speaking to?”
“Hello, Inspector. DI Phil Reilly here. I have something which may be relevant to your force on my desk”
“Oh?”
“Well, when I say ‘on my desk’, it’s actually in a fridge in Uphill. Weston General Hospital, I mean”
I visualised the location, and I had a sinking feeling, which was mirrored in the expression of distaste now on Sammy’s face.
“Where did you get it, Phil? I have a sneaking suspicion I know what it is that you are talking about”
“I thought you might. Charter boat out from Weston, load of grockles on a bloody freezing day out in the Channel drowning worms, and the skipper decided to drop anchor for a while. Seems it dragged a little, and they brought up a surprise when it was time to head home”
My boss grunted in frustration.
“Most of my team are off home already, Phil. Will this keep?”
“It’s in a fridge, Sammy”
“Sorry. Bad choice of words. Anything else associated with it? Nothing time-critical?”
“No, Sammy. My boys have all the witness statements gathered up, and we have a file for you. I think we all know who this is, or was, but it would be nice to confirm it. Visually, if we can. If you have any photos, it would avoid any of your lot losing their lunch. Crabs were a bit busy”
Sammy took a couple of deep breaths.
“Phil, for formality, aye? Can we be clear on this: do you have a head and a pair of hands?”
“Yes. Other bits as well. Wedding tackle, that is. They were stuffed into the mouth. What the fuck is going on in South Wales?”
Another couple of deep breaths from my boss.
“Bad things, Phil. Very bad things”
He closed off the call, and I put together an e-mail combining the deceased’s mug shot with a summary of the LIO’s tattoo list, and sent it off to DI Reilly, giving a little prayer of thanks that we didn’t have to do the identification formalities ourselves. Busy crabs…
I didn’t sleep well that night, but Blake was his usual supportive self, which was all I really needed. The next morning we dropped Rhod off, I settled into my little reverie as Jon did a team brew, and at ten o’clock Alun and Lexie were off to the next body.
CHAPTER 40
Lexie looked worried, so I made sure I gave her a hug.
“It gets easier after the first one”
She pulled back from me, smiling in a twisted way.
“Di, love, you have only ever had ‘the first one’ yourself, and besides, you seem…”
She stopped dead at that, looked away from me, then continued.
“I know this is going to be the wrong question, but there are going to be more, aren’t there?”
I couldn’t deny that one.
“Rather looks like it, love. And it wasn’t my first. First that was set up like that, but I did a spell with Traffic when I first started. I will just say that some days were better than others, and leave it at that”
Adam-as-was sobbing by the roadside…
“Ah”
She looked down at her nails for a moment, before continuing in a much softer voice.
“I spoke to Jon, you know”
“And?”
“He was going to leave the team, wasn’t he?”
Careful, DC Sutton.
“Did he say that? That he wanted to leave us?”
I got a brief look from her before she dropped her eyes again.
“Yeah, he did. Well, no, he didn’t. That wasn’t what he said. What he… he said he didn’t think he was up to it. He didn’t want to leave, not the team. He just felt that he wasn’t good enough”
“And do you think he isn’t?”
Her gaze lifted to mine once more.
“That’s not the point, though. Is it? Do you think he’s good enough? Any of us ‘fresh meat’, as Sammy calls us?”
“You want an honest answer?”
“Only kind we should get, according to Rhys, so yes. Please”
“Has Jon spoken to you about the prison visits we did?”
She shuddered.
“He says you had to interview some really unpleasant men”
“That is ‘you plural’, Lexie. Both of us, and he did really well. One serial killer at the start, when Jon was really fresh meat, a gay man who’d been systematically raped in childhood, and then the rapist himself. He tried to make friends with us”
Another shudder, and she gave a series of rapid nods.
“Yeah, he mentioned that one. Creeped him out”
“Did Jon tell you he slapped him down so hard he should have bounced? Not only that, we got the convictions we needed, we got at least some peace of mind for more than a few of the bastard’s victims. That is what Jon did, and he is bloody good at it. Yes, he talked to me, and he’s staying. What makes you different?”
She was faltering, so I pressed on.
“You know what courage is, girl? I will tell you what it isn’t. It isn’t lack of fear, it isn’t ‘damn the torpedoes’. It’s making the hard choice even as you shit yourself. It is being nervous, being bloody terrified sometimes, and still stepping forward rather than running away. It’s making that choice when you have an easier alternative. You could have drifted along as a PC, but you chose to come to this team. And it is a team, love. We all have our moments, and it’s our mates who pull us through. Now, serious question: would you prefer to pass this job onto someone else? I can do it if you’d like”
Her head came up again, and her gaze was steadier, a slight smile trying to break free.
“I did think about it, Di, but, well. I have to do this, don’t I? I don’t want to leave you lot, but if I can’t handle this sort of thing, maybe I should. This is my sort of membership fee, isn’t it?”
“No. This is a team. Different people, different strengths. You are good for us, so don’t feel you have to do everything”
The smile broadened, and she pulled me into a firm hug.
“Let’s go and see, then. Thanks, Di”
She released me and rushed off on her date with Alun and a corpse. Watch her back, girl.
I settled down to work on the organisation charts, putting together the computer diagrams that we can now play with before transferring them to a real chart involving photos, notes and lengths of coloured string. I don’t care how good the software is, there is still no substitute for a big wall chart we can all gather around and fiddle with. Three hours after Lexie had gone, she was ringing in. Sammy gathered us around one of the spiderphones and switched it to speaker mode.
“What you got, mate?”
Her voice was slightly metallic, but clear.
“It’s a shooting. Victim is a male in his forties, usual style of clothing, and from what Alun calls his front patch he’s one of the Culhwch. Back patch is gone. Alun has a thought on that one. Al?”
“Aye. Ta, Lexie. Sammy? It’s in Wainfelin by Pooler. Place called St John’s Close, there’s a gate, and a track that has woods to one side. Tranch Wood. Victim was tied to a tree by baling wire. There’s not much of the head, but the FME says there’s evidence of blunt force trauma. Best guess is that he was coshed, tied and driven out to the scene. Patch cut off as a trophy and as a provocation. Gun seems to have been placed in his mouth before firing. There’s… you OK, girl?”
Lexie’s voice came back on.
“Yeah, I think I am, Al. Sammy, back of his head is all over the tree, and SOCO have recovered the bullet, so we have some decent evidence thanks to them playing games with him. Sammy?”
“Aye?”
“I think we’re about done here. Alun’s logged the ODFs”
He took the hint.
“Well done, you two. We’ll see you in a few, OK? Wash up once you’re back in the office”
They clicked off, and Sammy turned to the rest of us.
“Usual drill, mates. Who fancies doing a cake run? They’ll need to get the bad taste driven away”
Ellen volunteered, but we made sure we had a whip round for the cash. Team effort yet again. I rang the LIO to give him a heads-up on more Other Distinguishing Features work, and that thought made me wobble a little. ‘Heads-up’. Three bodies so far, all of them with smashed or otherwise ruined heads. I resolved to make sure Lexie stayed the course, or at least to give her what help I could.
Ellen brought cake back, as Alun returned Lexie, and I left her to sit with Jon until she could face the rest of us, and received a sharp little nod from her before she murmured that Alun was a diamond. I squeezed her arm as we sorted the team’s brews.
“Teamwork, girl. Now, I have a dibs on that last apricot Danish, so eyes and hands off!”
We had a few days of calm after that, before another flurry of activity. Arson at a tattooist that already sat in our little spider’s web of coloured string, another suspicious fire at a bike breaker’s whose card was a foot to the right of that of the tattooist’s, a couple of serious beatings of members of associated MC’s on both sides, but thankfully no more headshots. One day without serious incident led to another, and apart from some low-level violence that was only ‘low’ in comparison to what had nauseated me in Newport, things were cooling down, or at least appeared to be doing so. Naturally, I didn’t believe it, but we eased down from our war footing onto a more normal office routine, and I was able to spend a little more time watching Lexie, alert for any fall-out.
She seemed to be coating, which reassured me. Whoever had done the selection process for our fresh meat appeared to have done a more than reasonable job, which might be a first, given how HR usually works.
A month went by with nothing more than a few beatings and the dissolution of one local MC, and I started to relax. The back of my mind was still shouting at me, but if there was nothing actually going ‘bang’ for a few days I certainly wasn’t going to object.
They went ‘bang’ in a way not long afterwards, with a call from Siân.
“Hiya, Diane. Can’t talk too long, got the rounds to make”
I started to chuckle, and she asked what was funny.
“Siân, love, I’m just guessing here, isn’t it? Vicky and Kev? Me and Blake?”
“Explain…”
I carefully rehearsed what I would say, ensuring no mention of Annie and her revelation, and softened my tone.
“It is, isn’t it? Kids? I couldn’t miss how you were feeling, could I? Both of you, isn’t it? Can I assume you’ve done something about it?”
She was silent for a moment, but I caught just the hint of a sniffle.
“Lainey’s out, Di, but you’re right. Always been painful for us, ah? I mean, we never begrudged Vicky, or you”
“Couple of men involved, love, but that’s your problem, isn’t it?”
She sighed, deeply, and I realised she had been hoping to avoid a longer chat, to sidestep any engagement by doing a hit-and-run news drop. I pushed, just a little.
“Would you be going for IVF, love?”
Sniffle turned to snort.
“You are so bloody sharp, DC Sutton! But not as sharp as you think!”
Shit, once again.
“Just you, or…?”
Her voice was breaking, but it wasn’t with grief.
“Both of us, Di. Both of us have caught. We’re going to be mothers…”
She did break, just then, and it took a while before she could string a proper sentence together.
“Diane, ah? Never thought we could, did we? Always had the need, always wanted, but never believed it could happen, and now it’s both of us. You have no idea…”
Sod you, Siân Powell.
“Trust me, Siân, I know. You know what I went through. I never, ever believed I could get there, so a little less of the assuming, OK?”
“Sorry, Di”
“Oh, don’t be daft. This isn’t a point-scoring thing, it’s a delight, a celebration, isn’t it? Now, you have others to tell, but I am honoured you included me and Blake. And Rhod, of course. So e-mail us any details, especially due date, and get on with spreading the good news, woman”
“Thank you, Di”
“Not at all. Give Lainey our love, and once more, that’s all of us”
She said her goodbye, voice breaking again, and I sat for a moment feeling smug and fuzzily happy. If anything could help Elaine out of her emotional pit, motherhood was a good bet.
Motherhood… I did my best to move that idea on in bed that night, and got no complaints from Blake, and for one night at least we forgot all about work.
CHAPTER 41
That didn’t last long, of course. While the seeming pause in hostilities held, we buckled down once again to pick up the cases we had been dealing with before the morgues started to fill with dissected bikers. Our out-of-area role meant an increasing number of cases being referred to us, so much so that Bev had insisted we appoint what he called a triage officer, a role that dropped neatly into Ellen’s lap. Sammy, feral for once in the sense of blackly humorous, gave his own definition of ‘triage’.
“Mates, it’s what they do at Casualty, isn’t it? Can wait; need to be seen soon; need to be seen at once. I don’t want that; I want it done army-style. Their categories are: need to be seen immediately, need to be seen soon and not worth trying cause they’ll be dead soon. You will find cases that need attacking right away, and some that will repay a steady investigation, but I want you to bin all the fishing expeditions and the ones that really won’t run. Put your hand down, Jonny Boy. This isn’t junior school”
“Fishing expeditions, Sammy?”
The ferality went up a notch or ten.
“Politics, son. We are going to get some snide schemers who want Joe Celebrity looked at, or Fred Politician, on the off-chance they dropped a bollock some time in the past. Digging for dirt that might be there, rather than dealing with real stuff. Witch hunts, in short, and I want shit like that binned as soon as it comes in. Pass it to me, and I will draft the sod-off letters. Ellen, you’ve got the right sort of mind for that—you do detail-to-overview well. Candice?”
Office Blonde’s head jerked.
“Yeah?”
“You’re the devious one. I want a list of excuses for me to use. Sensible ones, aye?”
He waited for the sniggers to die, his voice much softer when he spoke again.
“Yeah, yeah. Just one thing, mates: the war is not over. It may have calmed down for a while, but I do not believe it is in any sense over. It is going to flare up again, so I want things compartmentalised. No running three things at once. Stick to one, so if we get another sod on a slab we can start from the front foot”
I saw his point, but then my own work just then was revolving about free association and wall charts. I was also working on a pub and club list, and in many ways I was reminded of my work listing the gay bars in Cardiff before we took out the Evans clan and their friends.
There were a number of reasons the LGBT community chose their socialising and partying places, and there were parallels in the biker scene. Gay men drank in pubs that other gay men used because they felt safe, or because they might meet someone, or simply because the entertainment on offer was to their taste, but there was also exclusivity.
When I had spent weeks visiting gay venues seeking witnesses, I had come across more than a few where I was initially looked on with open hostility, and the reasons were linked. I was a woman in a men’s place, or I was a straight woman in a lesbian bar, or I was simply heterosexual, a breeder, not one of Them. The bikers, in their way, were the same.
They had their pubs, and the clientele was a mixture of bikers and wannabes, with the odd older drinker tolerated and indulged as a sort of mascot. The juke boxes played their music, the décor was to their style, the drinks were beer and Jack Daniel’s rather than white wine and cocktails, and Joe Straight was none-too-subtly discouraged from entering. Each in their own way, the two groups created and policed their own little worlds.
The first of the saner rallies was starting just then, after the masochistic lunacy of the Dragon up in the North. Ride your bike to a venue, in February, pitch your tent in a muddy field, in February, and then drink large quantities of alcohol before trying to sleep in said tent and then riding home the next day. In February.
Bugger that for a game of bikers was my view. What I was learning to call the Rally Scene is apparently quite a large subculture, with its own rules and traditions, and somehow carries on in parallel with the rest of the world. Some ‘rallyists’, if there is such a word, are dilettantes, dropping in and out of the scene, whereas others are fully into the whole thing as a lifestyle. The rallies are mostly run by MCCs as opposed to the sort of club we were investigating, but the MCs like to show their faces and remind the ‘lesser beings’ who is top dog. The major worry for us was that both clubs involved in the killings would pick an event to play OK Corral games at, which would drag families and ‘civilians’ into the mess in much the same way as the arson games were doing. I spent quite a while with the LIO and a terminal logged onto the rally website, which went by the depressingly obvious title of ‘Big Bollards’, collating local events and plotting them on the chart of partisan clubs. I was looking for flashpoints, hopefully before they caught a spark.
While the team carried on vetting, triaging (is there such a word?) and coming up with the occasional extra card to put up on our wall, I sat with our remarkably pallid LIO (“Call me Justin”) working through Big Bollards. The lifestyle depicted in the multitude of photos looked a happy one, if somewhat repetitive. The participants always looked well-rounded physically, usually wearing woolly hats and rather a lot of layers, even in the height of Summer. There were endless shots of odd motorcycles, tables of distances travelled and times taken to eat odd concoctions or perform arcane tasks, but the people in the pictures all seemed to be smiling. There were an awful lot of pewter tankards on view, and all in all it seemed very different to the barely-restrained violence I had felt in Pig and his ‘brothers’
Someone had been using the word ‘civilians’ about possible bystander victims of the MC’s war, and here it fitted. The closest sort of event I could remember attending, at least in terms of mood, was a real ale festival. There were the same slightly dippy grins and prominently displayed drinking vessels. Most definitely ‘civilians’.
“Diane?”
“Yes, Justin?”
“What about this one?”
He had a listing for the Gwydr Gwag MCC, based near Castell Coch. There were the usual attractions listed, including a hog roast and a smoking annex to the nearby pub, but no site map or any indication at all as to where the rally might take place. There was an address, though, and I resolved to excavate the sideboard drawer when I got back and try and find my cheque book.
Who the hell still uses cheques?
There was another rally on the same weekend, run by the Dragon Drinkers MCC, and that one said ‘usual site’. Five minutes on the net found the place, a field off the A48 to the West of Cowbridge. That brought back a couple of memories involving a Ford Transit, but I wrestled them down. I couldn’t see why Justin had gone for the Empty Glass lot rather than the Reptile Suppers, so of course I asked.
Well, I couldn’t say Alun hadn’t given me plenty of bloody warning! I got what felt like six hours’ worth of information crammed into what felt ‘only’ like three hours of lecture that, according to my watch, actually took no more than twenty minutes, all concerning MCs, ‘Black and Whites’ and their respective zones of control.
“So you see that the smaller patch clubs around Cowbridge are all tied in with the Culhwch while the area round Castell Coch is where they follow either the local Angels or the Brawdoliaeth. From what we know, the Culhwch have more muscle, so if something is going to get violent, I would guess it will be at the Castell Coch one, if at all. And at the moment the body count is two to one against them, so they will be the ones to be looking to settle a score”
I couldn’t fault his logic, and when we got a tip through the Prison Service grapevine that Plans Were Afoot, we were put on alert. I had received my ticket and directions to the other rally only the day before.
Sammy was as direct as ever in the briefing.
“Two weeks from now there will be two motorcycle parties, or rallies as they call them. Di has nailed the sites for us, and the LIO has done some Intel-woo that says it will be a higher possibility that any open warfare will be at this place… here”
We were back to the wall map I had helped cut and paste together what seemed like a century before, with an extra flap added to cover the extra area we needed.
“Mates, this is Efail Isaf, just down from Llantwit Fardre. This field here… There is a passing place immediately outside what we suspect will be the site entrance, but the access road is really, really tight. If we want to get in sharpish, it will be difficult. If we HAVE to get in sharpish, it will be a nightmare. Now, I want a package for the Brass. Intel is now on file from multiple humint sources that something is most definitely cooking for that weekend. We also have reliable reports that firearms have been delivered from at least one major English MC. That is for this room only, mates, and sorry to all of you for sitting on this one. Here is the kicker.
“This is not our job, OK? By that, I mean that we are not the SAS, nor even a firearms team. We are a research and referral team. That said, some of you have the necessary skill set, and if this goes the way indications say it is likely to, we will need as many hands as we can manage. Participation will be entirely voluntary in such an event”
He paused, looking directly at me.
“Di, rest assured my mate Brad has been put on alert. The access to the field is shitty enough he may well insist on using an airlift, but that means they will have to be parked some distance away. If it kicks off hard and fast, they will not be set up for instant support. Got me? In which case, our troops will have to be ready to get out sharpish”
He looked round the room.
“Sharpish, mates. No heroics. No pissing about. No pressure from anyone here for you to volunteer for this one. I will leave you to think about it”
CHAPTER 42
We spent a long time in bed that night as a family, Rhod deciding that he wanted a cuddle in the night, which limited the conversation a little, though Blake did steer us through it with some artful use of euphemism and long words. I wanted our little boy to sleep soundly that night, even if I couldn’t. My sleep wasn’t encouraged by the fact that Rhod’s entry had allowed a small furry buzz-machine into the room, so our bed was rather full.
Pig terrified me, to be truthful. The rally photo archives had brought home to me what a divide there was in so much of the world that lay outside what we saw as society. As a police officer, I saw Things and Stuff, of course, and the interviews and trials Jon and I had suffered through were fine examples of that, even though ‘fine’ wasn’t a word that sat easily on the tongue in such matters. This was different, however, and I remembered a book where two cities sat within each other, two utterly disparate cultures occupying the same spaces with each of them somehow remaining invisible to the other.
The Pink scene had been a little like that, but the biker world was, in many ways, utterly disconnected from the one my boys and I inhabited. Invisible, but still lethal to us if it exploded.
No, I didn’t sleep that well.
The next week and a half were busy ones, as legwork that was sometimes patient, and more often less so, brought us more pieces to our jigsaw, including a number of associated vehicles whose licence plates were entered onto the ANPR system, with particular attention being paid to the two main Severn crossings and the Wye bridge at Chepstow. We had to pull back from watching the Culhwch clubhouse, though. Despite the circumstances, Rob’s explanation had the team in stitches.
“So the club house, aye? That farm out to Flemingston? Jonny Boy and me, we’re plotted up by the big bend, where the woods stop. Little pull-in to a field gate, car sits tidy out of site, so we’re all cwtched up---”
Candice snorted.
“Thought that was Ellen’s job, Robat?”
“Oh piss off, Blondie! Anyway, Jon’s been off down the lane, all sneaky like, clocking a few numbers and counting the CCTV posts. Gets back in the car, and we’re just talking it through and writing up the log when there’s a tap on the car window, and bugger me if it’s not two of Pig’s boys. Come the long way over the field and past the horses, even had a key to the lock on the five-bar gate. I thought I was going to shit myself!!
He paused for a sip of his coffee, looking over at Jon, who was blushing.
“Look, I’m new to this, aren’t I? I was watching the road, not some bloody horse paddock!”
Rob reached across to pat his shoulder.
“Two of us in that car, butt, not just you. So, where was I?”
Candice held up her hand.
“Please sir, I know! Sitting in a steaming pile of… Did you book the car in for valet service, Rob?”
“Sod off. Anyway, there we are, engine off, sitting down, and they’ve got the tactical position we should have had. If they’d been carrying, we’d be dog meat now. So, he taps on the window, and I wind it down just a bit, and he says ‘Good morning, Ossifer’, just like that, and he’s all innocent face and wide eyes, and tells us the kettle’s on in the clubhouse if we’re out of coffee, and they can’t offer us doughnuts, sorry and all that, but the bar’s open if we fancy a pint instead”
He took another mouthful of his brew, shaking his head almost in admiration.
“Got to give it to them, mates, they have balls, as well as knowing their business. I was looking at some of their profiles, and there’s at least a couple of members with serious military background. They know we’re watching them---yeah, Candice, no shit Sherlock is right--- so we are going to have the job from hell setting up obs on that field. I really don’t think we will be able to have anyone front and centre. Certainly not a couple of vanloads of uniform sitting round a convenient corner”
Sammy sat silently for a moment before looking around the room.
“Thoughts, mates? Brad will be keeping his distance, but I do believe he may be able to task us an observation team that might be a little less conspicuous. It may come down to asking some serious favours of our own, from up Sennybridge way, though I suspect Brad may be looking to Hereford”
Rhys was next to raise a hand.
“I have some people I know up there, if you’d like me to sound them out. Um, Senny rather than Hereford. We may have some options outside the usual”
Sammy nodded.
“Yeah, it might be a help if you are thinking what I think you are, so go to it. I will have to ask, though: anyone here have any issues with helicopters?”
Candice muttered something, and Sammy asked her to say it a little more clearly, for the benefit of the team, if not the tape. Our laughter was a little less strained at that joke than it had been with Rob’s account of his and Jon’s ambush. Office Blonde looked round the room, and for once she was serious.
“Just thinking, isn’t it? Rob, Rhys, friends up at Sennybridge, that Brad bloke bringing his own? I was just wondering how well some of the opposition know the place. I know I laugh and take the piss, but I will tell you the truth here, just this once”
She looked round the team again, and grimaces.
“Rob isn’t the only one shitting himself right now. Can we please make plans to go and get absolutely pissed once we get this job put to bed? Please?”
Feral Sammy faded into fatherly, and he nodded.
“Pink or plain, mate?”
“Oh, pink, of course. I think we will need as different a scene as we can manage!”
I thought back to my musings through that sleepless night, and she was right. Swap one sort of in-group with another, less psychotic one. I held up my own hand.
“Please sir, we’ll need Chris!”
Nem con, as ever. Three days later, we had a visitor in the office, Rob making the introductions on behalf of a solidly-built man in what looked like his early forties. After working his way through the team he turned to Mister Blazer and Slacks.
“Mates, this is Major Fergus Lockhart of the Royal Welsh. I served with him when I was with the Fusiliers, before all this merging and renaming stuff. Sir?”
“Afternoon all!”
He had an accent, which certainly wasn’t Welsh, and I assumed that, like his name, came from rather further north than the rest of us. I suspected a complicated bit of history hiding there, but not now, DC Sutton. He continued with his introduction, the accent rather sing-song, but not like a Valleys one.
“I believe you have some interesting access problems to solve. I will cut right to the chase, and say that while I may be with the Welsh, I have actually been working at Boscombe Down with the ETPS. Um, Empire Test Pilot School. They are involved in pilot training, evidently, but they use different aircraft to the Air Corps. More seats, for a start, without getting into large helicopter territory”
Blake gave him an appraising stare, as the rest of the team descended into a rhubarb chorus.
“What are you offering us, Major? Air taxis?”
Lockhart grinned.
“Well done, that man. Air taxi, that is, rather than taxis plural. There will be other aircraft in the area, but I do believe that Corporal Williams here---”
Rob looked up with a grin of his own.
“Detective Constable, sir!”
“Detective Constable, aye. DC Williams here has managed to retain the right contacts, as well as having had the sense to prepare for his current employment outwith his regiment by amassing the correct style of favour owed to him. I believe Marine Perkin---DC Perkin--- has a similar collection. Yes, DC Perkin?”
Rhys looked sideways at his partner before turning back to Lockhart.
“I wasn’t exactly advertising my history, sir”
Lockhart’s own gaze flicked over Jon’s lowered head, and his mouth twisted slightly.
“Ah. I see. My apologies. This will be the reason you left the Corps? No matter. DC Perkin has called in his own favours, as has your colleague Chief Inspector Cobner. We will need to discuss both leaguer positions and traffic control, just for starters. DC Williams will be adequate for basic rotorcraft awareness sessions, but I would be grateful for a tour of the area at ground level. Power lines, trees, all need assessment. Inspector?”
Sammy jerked back into life.
“Er, yeah. Alun, Lexie? Could you do the honours. Get a car out, and drive the Major for a look-see? Rob has a map prepared with suggested sites. While we have daylight?”
The two of them were away ten minutes later, Major Lockhart in tow, and as the office door shut behind them, Sammy turned a beady eye onto Rob.
“Dear god, boy! Is he always such a knob?”
Rob turned again to look over at Jon, who had raised his head and brought a glare with it, directed at his other half. Sammy coughed, theatrically.
“Over here, mate. Leave Mr and Mr Perkin alone for now. Answer to my question?”
Rob shrugged, and then nodded.
“Yup. He comes from Stornoway, in the Hebrides. Fuck knows why he ended up in a Welsh regiment, He’s a Wee Wee Wee Wee Absolutely Free or whatever they call themselves, and he takes a lot of that stuff VERY seriously. No telly on Sundays, that sort of stuff. Got a sense of humour, but it’s profoundly twisted. I let him know Rhys’s history, for planning reasons only, and I said, aye? Do NOT let it out, not without his say-so, but no. Sorry, mates”
Rhys had taken Jon’s hand, so at least that storm seemed to be receding, and the scarred man found his own grin, which was profoundly sheepish.
“Well, that’s my old life trotted out for lolz, the Jock twat. He was right, though, about my buying myself out of the Corps. Lots of talk about diversity and pride, aye, but it’s not the same on the front line. Sorry, love. Enough. Boys and other boys and girls…”
He waited for the slightly strained laughter to finish,
“Rob and I will talk you through basic chopper safety. The plan is tied up with Brad, and he is working with the scary nutters from Hereford as well as his own lot. Here’s what we are looking at doing…”
CHAPTER 43
“You can go in now, Detective Constable”
I checked myself for any unfastened buttons, pieces of lint, anything that might distract them or make me look even worse than I felt, then turned back to the clerical officer.
“Thanks. Wish me luck”
“You’ll be fine. They’re not as bad as people think”
Yeah, right. I entered the little room, and there were two of them, of course, as well as the Federation rep on my side of the little table. Two men facing him, one in his late forties or early fifties, the other around ten years younger, both of them looking as if they were made for the suits they wore rather than the other way round. The younger one looked at me, offering a vague species of smile.
“Detective Constable Sutton?”
“One of them, yes. Diane Sutton”
“One of them? Ah, yes. Your husband will be on the list... Blake?”
“Yes. Also DC Sutton”
Shut up, woman. Don’t volunteer anything to the IPCC. Make them ask the questions.
“Very good, may I call you Diane? I am Malcolm Noble, and this is Kingsley Dawes, and we are from the Independent Police Complaints Commission, as I am sure you are aware. You will be familiar with your Federation representative Elwyn Rogers? Yes?”
I nodded, and he tweaked his smile again.
“Please take a seat, Diane”
He indicated the only one remaining, as I realised he was simply proceeding with the first-naming without waiting for my answer. Let it go, girl. P, P.
“We are asking about…”
He went on and on about the formality of the interview, as I sat there, numb, still in shock. I realised it had to be done, but I was still in that other place, the tiny closed room of shock and pain. Police, Professional, girl. Hold it together for them.
“Were you involved in the investigation involving…”
I was only half hearing the questions, and realised I had to concentrate, or I would end up in an even deeper pile of shit than I already dwelt in. We worked through the murders, the mutilations, all the arsons, every bloody one, and they even covered the ‘delivery’ in the stone circle.
“Diane, you reported that you met Carl Morris. Can you summarise for us?”
I took a long, slow breath. “It was after the attempted murder of a friend of mine, Paula Cairns”
Noble exchanged a glance with Dawes, who nodded, and then Noble frowned, only slightly, in my direction.
“Diane, perhaps we should offer a little piece of advice, and that is in this instance a simple one. Please be so kind as to offer us complete answers rather than partial ones. Our aim is not to find ways of punishing you but to establish what exactly happened on a particular Saturday night. We are informed that Ms Cairns wasn’t the only target. Is that correct?”
“Um. Yes. But the gun was a reactivated one, and the second round jammed”
“And you were the target for that round?”
I shuddered at the memory, Paula collapsing, the moped pillion fumbling with what had seemed like a cartoon gun, the black dot of its muzzle swinging past me.
“Yes. Or so the shooter said in interview”
“Thank you, Diane. It does actually do you credit that you seek to belittle your own role. Now…”
Tag-team style, they talked me through my meeting with Pig and the subsequent delivery up of the culprits, the murders, the arson attacks, and an awful lot of probing about any possible contacts I may ever have had with Pig and his boys.
“What did you know about the Culhwch Motorcycle Club before you met Mr Morris?”
“Nothing, really. Our team was dropped right into this one. I had some slight knowledge of how the politics worked, but I was never associated or acquainted with that scene. My teenage years were sort of interrupted, and then I was at University and then Cwmbran”
“Interrupted?”
“I was raped at sixteen”
“Ah. Of course”
He looked briefly at his file. “Ashley Evans. Also guilty in re Paula Cairns, I believe”
I could feel a snarl building, and fought it back down.
“Yes, along with so many others”
He looked at Dawes again, who pushed his glasses back up his nose before leaning towards me, ever so slightly.
“Given that commonality, Diane, and in your opinion, could there have been any collusion or other association between the attempted murders and former councillor Evans?”
“Shit!”
It was out of my mouth before I could stop it.
“To be honest, I hadn’t even thought of that aspect!”
Noble smiled, a little bleakly.
“Honesty is what we seek, Diane. Your opinion now?”
I shrugged. “I really don’t know. I suppose there could be an association, but, to be as honest as you are asking, the motive seems quite solid for Elmi and his boys. Are you saying you have more info on this one?”
Dawes just raised an eyebrow.
“We merely seek to keep options open, Diane”
Fuck. He might want me to be honest, but he wasn’t keeping up his end of the bargain, not in a month of bloody Sundays. I made a mental note to do a little off-record digging when I got back to the office.
Noble held up a hand.
“Diane. Helicopters. Please explain”
“Ah. Necessity, really, and favours. We’d received intelligence from reliable sources that the Culhwch and the Brawdoliaeth were effectively at war, and that weapons were being moved into the area. Firearms, that is”
“Yes. We have the NCA reports already”
“Indeed. Then we had a snout---er, a Humint source, in a prison. Our LIO collated that stuff for us, and it was a pretty clear picture. There would be some sort of open conflict. We spent some time collating the data, the info, intel… anyway, the picture we got pointed to one weekend and two possible venues. Audiences, to be honest”
Noble was terse.
“Audiences?”
“Um, yeah. Yes. Lots of what these people do is about face, and it’s face within a particular community. Look, I spent a long time on a previous case, a series of attacks on gay men---”
Dawes smiled, far more warmly this time.
“Ashley Evans, once more. You make waves, Diane”
“Well, yeah. Had to be done. Anyway, I was thinking a little while ago. The communities, the pink one and the biker one, they’re both exclusionary. They work to keep straight people out, in all sorts of ways. Real in-group behaviour. Pig---Morris, yeah? He and his kind want to be dominant, and they want their own community to know it. To bloody well witness it. Sorry”
Noble took over.
“Hence the locations you were observing?”
“hence those locations. Watching the clubs’ own premises wasn’t an option”
“And why not?”
“Having two of them tap on your car window and offer you a cup of tea and an apology for being out of doughnuts is not a good thing”
Was that a little crack in Noble’s control? He didn’t let it get in his way.
“Helicopters, Diane. They seem a little excessive”
Fuck that.
“Having a bag containing a man’s severed head, hands and privates pulled out of the sea off Weston is rather more excessive, I would argue”
“Point taken. Talk me through the helicopters”
“Right. Two of our boys are ex-military, and they had some contacts. We looked at the most likely site for any incident, and both access and lying-up places were not easily available. The site was a nightmare, in fact. Rob knew some boys in Sennybridge, and Chief Inspector Cobner knew some others in Hereford, and Rhys had contacts with the Empire Test Pilot place, and that is what we came up with. Best solution to a crap problem. We, er, embedded some firearms officers of our own into the team, and set up some carriers as near as we could get them without showing out too obviously”
“Bradley Cobner, of the CTSFU?”
“Yes. Them. He organised the close surveillance for us, Rhys’ mate supplied us with a chopper, Rob’s lot up Sennybridge another, and we sat and waited for it to kick off”
“Close surveillance”
“Special Reconnaissance Unit, Regiment, whatever. Sneaky bastards. Sorry”
“No need. I think that was a pretty fair assessment of their abilities. So, you set everything in place at where, exactly?”
“Field outside Efail Isaf. Boring few hours sitting in uncomfortable seats, as the SRR called in their sitreps. We could hear the band they had in the marquee over the radio. They sounded rather good”
“I am sure, Diane. Now, why did you select that event to stag?”
“Where to start? It was a team discussion, I suppose. One factor was location. It was on Brawdoliaeth turf, and we expected any attack would be by the Culhwch, as the body count was against them just then”
“You expected the Culhwch to attack the Brawdoliaeth?”
“We didn’t expect anything. We just knew something was building, and balance of probabilities, isn’t it? Culhwch hitting the Brawd seemed more likely”
“So, in simple terms, what then happened to confirm that deployment decision?”
Don’t lose it now, DC Sutton. Police, Professional.
“That was the problem. Not confirmation, exactly. It was the boys from the SRR who stirred things up, when they pointed out they hadn’t spotted a single Brawdoliaeth patch anywhere on site”
CHAPTER 44
“Please explain, for the benefit of the tape, what you mean by ‘patch’, Diane”
“Um. Colours. Club emblem worn on the back of a cut-off. Sleeveless jacket. Very important thing for that sort of club”
“Thank you. What significance did you take from that?”
“Oh… Look. The club’s members would have been very well-known to the local bikers, with or without their colours. If they had turned up at the rally without their patches, it would have been remarked upon. People like them can’t do stealth on the biker scene, it would be like that Blackadder Christmas thing, Victoria and Albert pretending to be ordinary folk out to buy some Christmas prezzies. There would be ripples”
“Ripples?”
Ask a bloody question, please, don’t just repeat what I last said.
“Ripples, yes. People like that, with or without colours, are like nodes in a crowd. There is either a conspicuous distancing from them or an equally conspicuous clumping, depending on how stupid or sycophantic the ordinary bikers are. The SRR picked up on that one as well as the lack of patches”
My mind drifted back to the half-lit interior of the helicopter we waited in that night, my ballistic vest making me feel like some odd version of the Michelin Man, and my section tense beside me. Blake, Lexie, Alun, Barry and Bryn. The last two were fully armed, and Barry had made it abundantly clear that I would not be repeating my attack on a certain Transit van and its occupants.
“You stay back, girl. All the way back until we are sure it is safe, and then we will tell you, aye? This going to be really messy if it kicks off. No arguments”
My husband gave me a squeeze and a smile. Rhod was safe, Mam sleeping over, or rather probably under, given Fritz’s habits.
“Diane?”
“Um?”
Back to the interview.
“Sorry. I drifted off. Thinking about, you know…”
“We understand. Now, perhaps we can move on? You had established the probable absence of people of concern from the event you had under observation. Are we correct so far?”
“Yes. As far as we could tell”
“What time was this?”
“Around 2300 hours. That is when Sammy---Inspector Patel. That is when Inspector Patel called us all up. He wasn’t happy”
“Inspector Patel was Bronze Commander in the operation”
“Yes. Our Super, Bevan Williams was Silver”
“Yes. We understand. What did Inspector Patel have to say?”
“He was feeding the message up the line. None of us were happy about the situation”
“What do you mean, personally, by ‘happy’, Diane?”
“Personally? I thought we’d been blindsided. We’d gone to the wrong event”
“Did you perhaps think that you had misread the signs? That there was no attack imminent?”
“No. Not at all. If anything confirmed our fears, it was the Brawd’s absence”
Dawes’ mouth made an effort at a smile.
“Perhaps they just preferred a quiet night in?”
Was that meant to be a joke? Don’t bite, girl. Police, Professional.
“Not at all. They have a reputation to uphold, among what they see as the lower orders. They don’t miss out on such events; they have to be seen, be visible. Intimidate”
“What was Inspector Patel’s decision? As you were informed, of course?”
“He asked Bev Williams to send an unmarked unit along the A48, past the other rally”
“What time was that?”
“We got the report at 2345 hours. It came over the standard channel”
“What did you hear over the radio, Diane?”
“They simply said ‘Shots fired’ and called for urgent firearms support”
‘Shots fired’… the helicopter had whined and banged as the engine started up, and our pilot had made no concessions at all to our comfort, almost tipping us onto our sides as soon as he was clear of the ground, Barry and Bryn putting their heads as close together as thy could manage and shouting through their checklist. Noise and nausea.
“We took off immediately to respond to their request. It all got a little frantic. I couldn’t hear much of the radio traffic due the noise; we weren’t in fancy helmets. Then we had to hold for a while”
“Why?”
“Landing area. Bev Williams had sent more than one vehicle out. He’s not stupid”
“Clearly not, Diane. What then ensued?”
“Oh, once he’d put a block on the A48 we landed there. Brad’s lot had already put down, in the next field. Bryn and Barry were straight out”
“Bryn and Barry?”
“Local firearms officers. They told the rest of us to keep back”
“Can you describe the scene, Diane?”
I let my mind wander as I sought the right words, the safe ones. The engine of the helicopter making a whining sound, almost like a washing machine finishing its spin cycle, as everything wound down. The lessons from Rhys loud in my memory: watch for blade sailing, keep well down, and wait for the command. Didn’t seem to apply to my two friends from Traffic…
“OUT!” over the intercom, and I fought the bilk of my Personal Protective Equipment as I wrestled it and myself out of the door and onto the road. Stay down, move smartly away from the aircraft. It wound itself back up to speed and shot off into the sky again, other noises becoming obvious, and I immediately knew we were in the right place.
Loud bangs, and screaming. I understood the urgency of our pilot’s departure as a flood of people came rushing out of the field entrance down the road from us, and then I nearly pissed myself as a new sound made itself clear: a ripping noise that could only mean some sort of automatic weapon. I wanted to piss myself, but that wasn’t a P, P option, was it?
“It was chaos. I could hear shots, and there was something that sounded like automatic fire. Our aircraft left immediately, and we were almost swamped with bodies”
“Please clarify that word, Diane”
“Ah. I mean people. Rallygoers trying to escape the shooting. We got them out and had them lie down in the road. Our carriers arrived in a little while, the first one in only twenty minutes, thank fuck. Sorry”
“Not necessary”
“Thank you. Anyway, that gave us some bodies to contain the crowd”
“Why contain them? Why not just let them disperse?”
“Not safe, was it? Anyway, there was the possibility some of them were involved”
“Thank you. Go on?”
“What to say? I’ve been out with the firearms team before, and it’s normally a containment thing. They rock up, announce armed police, and so on. Hands up, turn round, on your knees. This… It was a full-on battle. Like one of those cowboy films, where they have a shoot-out in a bar, hiding behind tables and stuff. There were at least two vans burning when we looked through the hedge”
“Ah”
“I couldn’t see it all, obviously. Brad had a loud-hailer or something, bloody loud, whatever it was. Shouts out that we’re armed police, and the noise died down for a bit. Then someone shouted out ‘Fuck you’, and I heard the automatic again. Followed by four quick shots, individual ones”
Dawes turned to Noble.
“That accords with the other testimony regarding Philip Jefferson’s demise. I think we can close that line down”
He turned back to me.
“Thank you, Diane. That was a crucial piece of evidence. Now, I do have to ask this. Who was ‘we’ and why were you looking through the hedge?”
They took a pause at that point, as the shakes got too bad, and I found it impossible to stay P, P. Thirty minutes in the ladies’, asking myself if I wouldn’t rather take their offer of a day’s respite, and answering that I just wanted it over. Wash and repair your face, girl. I made my way back to the little room and before we went through the Dance of the Tapes again I simply had to apologise.
“Sorry, gentlemen”
Dawes gave me a real smile this time.
“Once again, not at all Diane. You have already helped us to clarify the death of Philip Jefferson, and more importantly have confirmed it was due to the reasonable, appropriate and necessary use of lethal force. Two of what you call ‘Brad’s boys’ will be breathing more easily, though I rather doubt it will improve their sleep”
I looked at him, then, really looked, and suddenly I was seeing Adam. Older, male, but still my friend. I raised my eyebrows, and he nodded.
“Yes, Diane. I was a firearms officer for many years. I understand the issues rather better than most. Now, shall we begin again?”
Through the formalities, and once more I was face to face with those memories.
“You said you were looking through the hedge?”
“Yes”
“I am sorry to jeep returning to this, but were you not advised to remain prone?”
“Yes, but it wasn’t me”
The crowd had been spread across the tarmac, as the flashing and banging continued from the field. Some of the rallygoers were screaming, and Lexie was beside me, trembling hard at each shot. Flickering yellow light sent shafts through the foliage, catching the odd face or leather-clad body, some of those faces wet with tears.
Brad’s voice boomed out.
“ARMED POLICE! WE HAVE ALL EXITS SECURED! YOU HAVE NOWHERE TO GO! CEASE FIRING!”
The banging started to die off, and I felt my friend’s shaking ease.
“Nearly over, girl. Nearly done. Going to be a shitty one to sort out, after”
“Yeah, Di. Thanks. They’ve stopped, haven’t they?”
“If they’ve got any bloody sense they have—NO!”
She started to stand up, and I half rose to pull her back down. I could see through the hedge, two vans burning merrily away, a few dark figures prone on the grass, yellow light shining off tactical goggles. I could hear the voice as well, when he shouted out “Fuck you!”
I heard the automatic weapon start firing again, saw the flashes, and I heard the two double-taps as a couple of Brad’s boys shot whoever had the machine gun.
And I heard the thump of the round that went into Lexie’s head.
CHAPTER 45
“Alexandra Doyle was with me. Not long in the job; one of what we called the ‘fresh meat’ when our initial team was expanded”
“Lexie, I believe you named her”
“Lexie. Yes”
“Why did she leave hard cover, Diane?”
“I have no idea at all. I can guess it was something like stupidity, or perhaps lack of experience. And my own stupid fault”
“Your fault?”
I gathered my courage, for this was something I had to do.
“She asked me if it was all over, and I obviously didn’t make myself as clear as I should have. I also failed to restrain her when she rose”
Noble checked some notes.
“In summary, then, you are saying that what happened to DC Doyle was your fault? Your negligence in not issuing firm and clear commands, and not using appropriate force to keep her in cover?”
“Yes. Yes to both”
“Thank you for your candour. Now, what then happened?”
Flickering light from the burning vans, fluttering from Lexie’s arms and legs as she lay on the tarmac, her right foot caught under her left knee in the sprawl the impact had thrown her into. Grab the red button on my radio, thumb pressing so hard I was losing sensation in it as any number of scenes from war films played on my inner screen.
Police, DC Sutton. Fucking Professional. I lifted my thumb away and pressed transmit,
“Red red red. Officer wounded. Midway along hedge on A48. Medical assistance required urgently”
Let go of the radio, DC Sutton. You are the first responder. You are the only one on scene for now. Bloody well assess the victim’s condition. Vital signs? Move!
I didn’t want to look, but it had to be done. All I could think of was the mess left when a man is tied to a tree and shot in the face… Look, girl. Open your eyes and do your job.
There wasn’t much left of the right-hand side of her helmet apart from shards of Kevlar, and blood was streaming down her face. I pushed three fingers into her open collar, past the straps of the ruin that was supposed to protect her, and tried to find a pulse.
Yes! I could feel it in her neck, rapid and weak, but it was still a pulse. Recovery position? With a head wound?
“Move, girl”
The tone wasn’t in any way aggressive, but the voice clearly expected instant compliance. I wrenched my eyes from Lexie’s body, and saw two short men in camouflage, several bits of green netting hanging off them.
“Who…?”
“SRR, love. Out of the way. Please”
I couldn’t see what they were doing, but it was fast and seemed practised, their hands moving all over her body, probing and squeezing. A head turned towards me.
“How many rounds, Constable?”
“Uh?”
“How many hits?”
“One only. In the head”
“She’s still with us, girl”
“Diane. She’s Lexie”
“No arterial spurting. No exit wound. She’s… STAND STILL!”
Two more figures were moving towards us, indistinct in green clothing. The shifting light showed some badges on what looked like jumpsuits, and the soldier lowered his weapon again.
“Sorry, mate. Paramedics?”
One of the new arrivals stammered out “Aye!”
“Come slowly towards me. Close enough… Right! Sorry, mate. Old habits. Head shot, don’t know how serious, female, how old, Diane?”
“Twenty-four”
“Thank you. No obvious exit wound, bleeding is heavy but not arterial, and we have stayed away from the entry wound”
The nearer ambulance man grunted, then called to his partner.
“Jack? One for you here”
He turned back to us, and the firelight caught a twisted grin.
“Jack’s ex-Army. Medic, isn’t it? More his side of things than mine. I’m Tod, by the way. Hell of a welcome!”
Things happened, and I lost track a bit as Tod took me off to ne side so that three men with experience of murder by explosion could get to work on Lexie properly.
“You OK, Officer?”
“Um. Yeah. Think so. Nothing hit me”
“Well, she’s in good hands. I make no promises other than that we will do our best, aye?”
He looked away, through the hedge, where I could just see a few dark figures moving in short sprints through the clusters of tents.
“It’ll be over now, love”
Bang.
I came back too slowly from the memories, Noble sitting patiently, biding his time.
“There was another shot?”
“Yes. It was further away than the machine gun fire, or at least in a different direction. Hard to tell distances in those conditions. And I could hear Brad again, more shouting about armed police, show yourself, all that stuff”
“You remained with your colleague, though?”
“No, not for long, anyway. The paramedics and the SAS boys, they got some sort of stretcher up from the ambulance, collapsible wheeled thing, and I got called away”
“Who by?”
“Sammy. I mean Inspector Patel. He was Bronze Commander”
“Where did he ask you to move to?”
“The field entrance. Said he needed me urgently. I got there as quick as I could, once Lexie was strapped onto the wheeled stretcher thing”
“Did anything happen while you changed position?”
“Yes. There were two more shots. They seemed to come from the same place as the
previous one”
“Were you moving towards or away from the sound of the shots?”
“Towards”
My two interrogators exchanged a glance before Noble asked his next question.
“What was your relationship with Carl Morris?”
“Relationship? Are you joking?”
Not a flicker of a smile from him. P, P, girl.
“I am sorry for that, but I would never describe my connection with him using that word. I met him once, and if you will pardon my French, he scared nine colours of shit out of me. Relationship is not a word I would ever have picked”
“For the benefit of this investigation, could you describe your previous contacts with him?”
“Um. Right. There had been a shooting, a friend of mine, witness in a major case. Kid on a moped”
Dawes looked up.
“That isn’t all of it, is it, Diane?”
“What do you mean?”
“We are informed that you were also a target, but the weapon jammed. Is that not correct?”
I nodded. “Didn’t think that was important, just now”
Noble smiled, and it was actually a warm one.
“It is always important when someone decides to take a shot at one of our Officers, Diane. Now, please describe your meeting with Carl Morris”
“Not really much to tell. He cornered me down near the lock gates, and it was like a military operation. Spotters, minders, anyone out for a walk turned round and sent back the way they’d come”
“What did you speak of?”
“Paula’s shooting. He wasn’t happy about it, to put it mildly”
I found my mouth taking over. “I suspect he had a soft spot, perhaps for her, maybe for one of the other girls. And he saw the city as his turf. Transgression, trespass, whatever”
“What did he say to you?”
I shook my head, my pulse speeding up with the memory.
“He frightened me, as I said. He made it very, very clear that he knew where I lived, and who with, and then promised us a present”
“A present?”
“Yeah. Turned out to be the weapon, and then the culprits. Well, they all pleaded guilty, so officially, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Beaten, bound and dumped in the park, wasn’t it?”
“Yes”
“And your unit decided to allow this vigilante approach to pass without any action on your part?”
“NO!”
Wind it in, Diane, for fuck’s sake, and try again.
“No. Not at all. Pig—- Morris--- ran a very tight operation, almost military in style. I asked exactly that question at the time, and my superiors made it abundantly clear to me that we were not condoning such activities. How on Earth could we? We set up an operation to deliver a complete intelligence package on the club and all members we could identify. Unfortunately, events sort of overtook us”
“Three murders, I believe”
“Yes. Plus arson and other attacks. That is why we started talking to Brad’s unit. The information we were receiving indicated there was going to be a serious firearms incident with multiple weapons”
Noble smiled once again, but it was back to the tighter, nastier style.
“A war, Diane. You can call it a war”
“A war, then. We just picked the wrong site, but at least we got the day right”
“Quite an intricate operation, coordinating multiple agencies. Whose idea was that?”
“Entirely a team effort”
“OK. Now, if we can come back to the evening in question. Why were you called to the field entrance?”
“Carl Morris wanted to talk to me”
“For what reason?”
One of the vans was still burning, the other one down to a glowing wreck as the fire consumed everything it could. People lay everywhere on the road, leather jackets gleaming on most of them and several women’s voices soft as they tried to quieten their unhappy children. Sammy was straight to the point.
“Lexie?”
“Head shot. Two of the army boys helped out, and the paramedics took her away. Still with us, but I have no fucking idea what state she’s in!”
“Not now, love. Hold it together, for her sake as much as your own, aye? Got a job for you, and we need you on the ball for it. Pig wants to talk”
“What do you mean?”
“Site’s mostly secured, except for him. We’ll start processing the crowd in a few, but he’s under the bar in the marquee with some sort of hand gun. Brad’s had words, and Pig’s been very clear: he wants to speak to you”
“What the hell for?”
“God knows, mate, but he is asking for you by name. Demanding, really, and every time someone else tries to talk to him we get a discharge, a shot”
One of the squaddies appeared at my shoulder, and I had no idea where he had come from. My nerves were shredded, and he didn’t help, but a few minutes later he was leading me on a scuttling run around the remaining tents until we arrived by a small estate car. Brad was crouching behind it, two of his boys prone, motionless, eyes fastened to their sights.
“Diane! So glad you decided to stop by!”
I wanted to scream at him, a torrent of release about Lexie, but just in time I realised how strung out he was himself, how he was coping. He reached across to grip my forearm.
“Looks like your team was spot on about this little event, girl”
“Yeah, but we picked the wrong site, didn’t we?”
“No matter, we got here. How’s the injured officer?”
“Shit state, Brad. Head shot. She was still breathing when the paramedics got to her, and I would really like to get off to the hospital, so whatever this is, can we get it fucking done?”
“Ok, girl. We’d like you to get this on. Bit heavy, but more protection than what you are wearing now. Pig is quite angry, but he seems to be calming down. He will only talk to you, though. Very specific about that. The kit’s wired, so we’ll be recording what you both say, as long as you are close enough to him”
I nearly lost it right then.
“Fuck’s sake, Brad! Sir! This is a proper negotiator’s job, not mine!”
“We tried that. He took a pot-shot. Says it’s you or nobody”
He paused, clearly weighing his words.
“Diane, we have a choice here, if you don’t feel able to do this. We have him flanked. Nobody behind, so clear field of fire. The other option is that we simply shoot him. He has had all the warnings we are required to give, every chance we owe him. He either comes out or he gets a funeral. There are six dead at least so far, and I really don’t want to increase that total. It will sound stupid, but our job is not to kill people, it’s to save lives. Whatever I can do to limit the body count to what we already have…
“Will you do it?”
Five minutes later I was crawling forward in an armoured version of the Michelin Man’s suit. Somewhere in front of me, Pig was waiting.
CHAPTER 46
“Why did you agree to act as a negotiator, when you have not been trained in such work?”
I could see that the two of them weren’t interested in the easy questions. I gathered as much logic as I could find.
“I don’t think there was any real choice. We had an armed man taking shots at people he didn’t like, time was crucial to clear the roadway outside, as there was a high probability that the rallygoers would contain gang members, and we couldn’t risk moving the crowd while there were live rounds being discharged. Morris had been very specific in asking for me”
“You can confirm that you have had no formal training in this work?”
“Um. No more than the usual conflict resolution training we all get. The team had some heavier personal protective equipment available”
It did weigh a ton, and there was a collar arrangement round my neck that made me feel like one of those odd men squatting behind a baseball batter, or perhaps someone in goal in ice hockey. Not that I had any experience of either, but never mind. I just felt swaddled. Brad was terse in his final advice.
“Go in, but not too close. Beware of moving in front of the fires. Don’t stand up. No easy target for him, OK? Find out what the fuck he wants, and it gets stupid, just get out of the way. This stops, and if that means the hard way, then that’s his hard luck. You come out in one piece even if he doesn’t. Got that?”
I had. I started the waddling crawl as Brad had so clearly directed, against his amplified call to Pig.
“Carl, DC Sutton is coming forward. You will have ample opportunity to talk, but any sign of threat and I will terminate the meeting. No more options. No more choices”
I caught a hint of Pig’s coughing laugh, but all I could really hear was my own breathing. Bloody hell, the kit was heavy.
“Carl? It’s Di Sutton. You want to talk, I am happy to listen. Enough of this. More than enough”
“Come on over, girl”
There were a couple of toppled bikes just before the marquee, and I settled myself behind them as comfortably as I could, the ceramic plate or whatever it was weighing painfully on my breasts.
“I think this is close enough, Carl. You hear me OK?”
“Aye, Diane. How’s Posh doing, her and her copper?”
“I think you already know the answer to that. Happy as, isn’t it?”
“Aye, it is. Had my doubts about him, didn’t I? Was going to warn him off. Bit of a slap, aye?”
That grunting laugh again, my mind going back to my terror down by the lock gates. Hell, Pritchard hadn’t scared me, nor even Ashley Evans, once I got the measure of him. One man in a prison cell, crying on a warder’s shoulder, had come close, no shame in admitting that, but Pig terrified me. My rapist had been all rage and bluster, Pritchard and the rest snide and nasty, but Pig was simply tranquillity and threat all at once.
No. No shame in being frightened by him, and I realised that one word said it all. I wasn’t frightened of him, not worried about a bogeyman, but actively frightened by him. Whatever he did would always be deliberate, calculated and effective. Take the initiative, girl.
“She has her book out. Read it?”
“I have that. Got a nice way with words, she has. Picked the right friends at long last. That was what kept me watching her plod. He has his own friends”
Bugger the initiative; I was intrigued. “Who are you on about, Carl?”
“Nobody’s called me that for years, except for Mam. Deb Wells, that’s who”
Brad’s voice was tinny in my earpiece, but clear.
“Unit on way to make sure of her safety, Diane. Keep it up. He’s talking and not shooting”
“Pig, then, if you want”
“Aye. Name I bloody well earned, isn’t it?”
“I agree. What about Deb?”
“Woman with class, isn’t it? Ah, you won’t understand that. ‘Class’, girl. Lives her own life, takes no shit, only gives it when she needs to. Class, girl. I remember…”
He started coughing, and there was an odd sound to it, even for him.
“I remember when she was on the scene, her and her Mam and Dad. Sound pair, that. Minded their own business, played no games. Knew when to stay and when to fuck off. Good people. Pukka lifestyle bikers, they were. Raised her well. Things been different, aye? Anyway, that ship sailed too many years ago. How’s the kiddy? Rhodri, isn’t it?”
Shit. Was that a threat, and if so, why? He spoke again before I could marshal my thoughts.
“Na, not to worry, girl. Kid’s safe. Caught a couple of the Brawd sniffing, so that was sorted. Only by me, got that? You might want to look in Pontsticill reservoir”
Sodding hell. Brad was chuntering away, but I ignored him.
“Are you saying there are two bodies in that reservoir?”
“Dam end. You might want to get them out before people turn to bottled water”
“And who is responsible for their deaths? I must caution you that you do not have---”
“Oh, shut the fuck up, Diane! Anyway, that was a while coming. Brawd are too full of themselves, and that Titch was a right cunt. Your SAWAT wannabes take him out?”
“I have no idea”
“Tit with the sub-machine gun”
The thump of a round tearing away part of Lexie’s helmet.
“Er, yeah. He’s gone. Terminally”
“Good. Never could stand the fucker. No class, aye? Now, listen. Your boys need to get round to our clubhouse. The rest of my brothers are locked in the store room. Never involved, aye? Never knew what was going down. Me, and a couple of the other Officers, aye? All our doing. So you let those poor innocent victims of kidnap out so they can bury their brothers properly”
You sneaky bastard! I actually admired him just then, as the sheer audacity of his plan made itself clear. I was smiling when Noble asked his next question.
“So, Diane, he claimed that only three of his club were involved in the events that evening?”
“Oh, absolutely! In its own way, it was genius. The other club took the bait, and we did the cleaning up for Morris. When the boys entered the clubhouse, they found almost all of the club sitting handcuffed in a locked room that just happened to have armchairs, a telly, a toilet and a supply of beer. They suckered the Brawdoliaeth big style”
“And your team as well?”
I found myself blushing.
“Yes. Us as well. We ended up doing the shooting. Not great”
“Did Morris have any other revelations? I will admit that owning up to two murders must have been… surprising”
Struggling to make myself comfortable, a strap a little too tight, I had asked much the same thing of Pig.
“Why, though? Why put yourself here, the one to take the blame? That isn’t exactly your style, is it?”
“What the fuck do you know about my style, little girl?”
Careful, Diane. Really softly softly now.
“No offence, Pig. It’s just that you always struck me as someone who does his own thing, clears up his own messes. Careful, isn’t it? And here you are, taking the whole pile of shit on your own neck. I’d call you honourable if, well, you were, yeah?”
Another coughing, grunting laugh.
“Aye, girl. Love you too, isn’t it? Honest I am, and honest I will be. I have watched you, you and that hard-faced dyke bitch you used to work for, and if it’s class, aye? She has class, that Elaine Powell, and she fucking well knows how to hold a grudge. That sister of hers, shit, even knowing what she is I would have given her one myself. She’s got sound people with her now, though, people I respect, so that bus has gone. Na, that Elaine Powell, she knows how to clean her turf up. Doesn’t let shit go without proper consequences. You are straight, though. I like that. Too many lying fuckers about, like that boss of yours with the rifles pointed at me”
He drew in a bubbling breath before shouting out “I KNOW YOU’RE OUT THERE YOU CUNTS!”
In a much quieter voice, “Turn that wire off, Diane”
Brad’s own voice was terse.
“Find out why, Diane”
“Why, Pig?”
“Just do it, girl. Tell your wannabe SAS boss that I have no more confessions to make, aye? No more bodies to pick up. Has he gone to see to my brothers?”
Brad was to the point. “Unit on way. There in about ten minutes”
“He says they will be there in ten minutes, Pig”
“Good enough. Turn it off or fuck off and I start shooting again”
I made the decision.
“It’s off. What do you want?”
“Ah, girl. Easier now, with just the two of us. You know, I have always been a reader, isn’t it? Ever since I was a kid. You heard of Pratchett? Terry? Discworld books?”
“Heard of. Never read any”
“Very clever man. And Glen Campbell, one of my favourite musicians. Same shit. Fucking Alzheimer’s, isn’t it? Not the way a man should go. Campbell even wrote a song about it, but he couldn’t fucking remember the words. Had to have someone hold up a paper for hum. Not right, not the way”
Ah.
“Is that you, then?”
“Yes girl. That’s me. Going to be gone soon, but I would be gone long before I died. Really shitty, that. Anyway, Titch has helped”
“He hit you?”
“Aye, girl. Gut-shot, I am, and bleeding out. So you look after your boys, and you give my best to Posh Paula and Deb, and you tell them that the Culhwch isn’t gone. Just me, aye?”
“Pig, we can get a medic to you---”
“No. Not this time. Not one for dribbling, me”
He started to croak out a song I half recognised.
“I hear you singing in the wires…”
There was one loud bang.
CHAPTER 47
“We have the medical reports, naturally. Why did you leave hard cover yourself?”
I found myself glaring at Noble, and had to force myself to pull the reaction back. Careful, girl; P, P, as ever.
“I made a dynamic risk assessment that as Morris had been the last known active shooter I was not at risk. I was also wearing what I assume to be bomb disposal personal protection equipment, and I have and retain a duty of care to the community of which I am part. The Peel principles, Mr Noble”
“What did you then do?”
“I switched the mike back on and then approached the position I believed Morris to be in. I was concerned for his welfare”
“After all the shooting? After DC Doyle had been shot?”
“He remained a fellow human being!”
“Talk us through what you found”
The suit was too heavy for anything other than a waddle, but I got to my feet, Brad’s voice whining on in my earpiece as I caught movement in my peripheral vision. His boys, no doubt, or perhaps the really scary bastards in the netting strips. No worries, girl.
“Pig? It’s Diane. I am coming in, so shoot me if you want. Brad, paramedics, urgent”
No sounds from the bar area, but I doubt I would have heard anything over the sound of my heartbeat almost booming in my helmet. A shockingly bright light burned past me, and I picked my way past fallen bikes and tumbled chairs to where a pile of beer crates had tumbled over, CDs spilling out from what had clearly been a DJ’s desk by a low stage of pallets and plywood sheeting. Pig was behind the beer crates, a Glock on the ground next to him. I assumed the recoil had taken it from his hand after he had swallowed the muzzle. His jacket shone with the effects of what Titch had done to him, but everything north of what was left of his head was shining wet.
I got the helmet and visor out of the way just in time, and as instructed too many times, I made sure I left my supper well away from the body.
Bodies, now, as armed men started filtering in, and Brad was there, and then my husband, and without words I was taken away from the carnage, someone unfastening that bloody walking tank affair and then, finally, a seat in the back of a carrier as Blake found me some hot tea.
“I don’t take sugar, love”
“You do tonight, love. Just this once, aye?”
I don’t know how long we spent there, or which of us was holding the other, but I didn’t care, and tears wash out of clothing far more easily than blood does. After an aeon, I pulled some P, P back in.
“Lexie?”
He pulled away from me, just a little. I wasn’t going to release him, not for a while.
“In theatre now, love. Early reports are quite hopeful. They got her away right sharpish. We’ve just got to do the goat-sorting and then we can be off as well”
“Goats?”
“Aye. Clear away the civilians and nick what’s left of the Brawd. They lost seven members that we know of, against two of the Culhwch”
“Including Pig?”
“Yeah. Devious bastard. I feel bloody well used, I do”
“Well, it’s done. I need to wash, love”
“I’ll do your back”
“Please. Then we find some time and do something nice with Rhod”
That was almost it for that night. The uniforms and their enforcers cleared the bikers one by one, including a terrifying number of children, and another six of the Brawd were arrested on the basis of the club having a blindingly stupid rule about commitment that involved getting a tattoo. Sammy was insistent, though, and I wasn’t allowed to head off to the hospital but driven home with my beloved in a marked car. At least our neighbours knew what we both did for a living, so they simply accepted the regular presence of a Battenberg-coloured car on our drive.
I got the door open after some fumbling, and left my clothes in a trail as I headed for our shower, the stink of that evening suddenly as thick in my nostrils as the remnants of vomit in my mouth. I took thirty seconds to scrub my teeth, and then into a shower almost too hot, and Blake with me, and…
Noble coughed, and the memories settled back into their special place.
“I think we have covered all we need to today, Diane. Thank you for your candour”
He went through the process with the tapes as I looked from one to the other, trying to second-guess their next actions. Elwyn slipped me a smile, before opening his mouth for the first time since the process had begun.
“Gents, I think Diane would appreciate some broader hints re the next stage of this investigation”
Noble looked at Daws, who nodded sharply before taking over the lead.
“The next stage, Mr Rogers? Actually, I think that this enquiry is complete. We shall be consolidating our findings and the report will follow in due course. There will be a number of recommendations, particularly in respect of a rather gung-ho approach to using helicopters and the Armed Forces, but all in all we see no overriding areas for specific or seriously critical comment. Oh, and I will be speaking to Mr Williams about Diane”
Elwyn put his hand on my forearm, calming me.
“In what context, precisely?”
Noble actually chuckled.
“A bloody commendation, naturally, Mr Rogers! Morris was rather accurate in his summary of this Officer’s character. Despite seeing a good friend nearly killed, she carried out her duties exactly as we would all hope we would be able to do. She contained the shooter, and apart from his own and rather inevitable demise, she prevented any further casualties. All at great personal risk”
I coughed.
“I wasn’t actually at any risk from Morris, was I?”
Dawes smiled again, and it was the expression of an indulgent uncle.
“You didn’t know that, Diane. Not at the time. That is the point. Thank you both for your time. One last question? How is DC Doyle?”
I gave Elwyn’s hand a squeeze as a thank-you.
“I am heading into the hospital as soon as we finish, but reports are hopeful. It looks as if the helmet actually did some good”
Noble gave a sharp nod.
“Yes. SMG rounds are normally low-powered, and so much depends on factors such as angle and the distance from the weapon. I was formerly a close-protection officer for my sins, so please take Lexie our best wishes. Thank you both for your time”
They were gone, and I was left with Elwyn for a minute or two, finding myself laughing. He joined in, relief evident in his own laughter, and after making a comment about what a bunch od bastards they were, and how they were always like that, and needing a pint, he was also off to other work. I made my way out of the Central nick, heading off to the hospital, for once in my own car, which felt strange, but it was a bloody sight quieter than a helicopter, even if the other traffic about me was far more worrying.
Lexie was sat up in bed, surrounded by flowers, her whole face one massive bruise under the dressings, but she managed to smile at me as I went in. At least her speech was clear. Deb and Gemma were by the bedside as I entered her little room, a slightly greasy cardboard box of a very familiar design on the little table.
“Hiya, mate. Going to keep your head down next time?”
“Sod off, Di. How long did they keep me under?”
“God knows, love. There was all sorts going on, and I was a bit out of the loop. How are you feeling?”
“Would it be a bit obvious to say I’ve got hell’s own headache? Doc tells me they had to do some serious shit on me, relieving pressure and stuff. Depressed fracture of the skull, he says. I’ve got a trench all the way down one side of my head. What state is my helmet in?”
“Left side ripped right off, Lexie. Did its job”
“I didn’t, though, did I? Stupid thing to do!”
“Learning curve, girl. Steep one, in our job, always is. Gemma getting you fat?”
Lexie grinned.
2Aye, and the others. Charlie, Tiff, they are all in every day. I’ve started giving chocs away to the nurses, they bring so many, and then there’s the team. Candice is the worst, I tell you, and then that Chris is round every day to see his boyfriend and, well, I am going to be the Cardiff Lard Monster when I get out”
Her voice softened. “You OK, yourself?”
I grimaced.
“Well, suppose so. Just finished the wash-up with the Complaints bods, and that seemed to go OK. Just got to get on with the routine again, now. I seriously hope we do get some bloody routine for a bit; last few months have been rather heavy. You know something?”
“What?”
“I was just thinking we’ve done enough to earn our pensions, and, well, retirement suddenly looked attractive!”
Deb guffawed.
“Like hell it does! Not you, Diane. You’re like that Elaine, copper to the core. Anyway, when Lexie gets out, we will have a proper party. Any objections?”
“Not from me, Deb. Could I have a quick word? Just the two of us?”
She twitched a little,
“Come on, then. Sluice room?”
She led the way in, smiling at a nurse to reassure her we weren’t some odd pair looking to shoot up. Or whatever.
“Pig spoke about you, Deb. Right at the end”
All at once, she broke, sobbing so hard she couldn’t breathe properly. As I so often did, I found myself holding another human in extremis. Story of your life, DC Sutton, story of your life.
“Deb? Speak to me. Please”
“Not here, Di. Not now. Got to be strong. Charlie and Tiff are due in twenty minutes, so if you don’t mind, drive me out somewhere quiet, and we’ll talk. And not bloody Southerndown beach, OK?”
I held her to me until her crisis had passed, and then we both did the necessary running repairs before putting that brave face back on with our mascara and smiling at the world until Gemma left for a tryst with her rugby player and two students arrived to take over the caring and sharing duties, I made as brief a welcome as I could, but neither of them was fooled in any way. Charlie whispered in my ear as we hugged.
“Sort her out for us, love”
Sod driving. I walked with Deb across into Heath Park, where there was a little footbridge over the Wedal. She simply stood for a few minutes, staring into the trees.
“He said he remembered you, Deb. You and your parents, he said”
“Aye. He was always about at rallies, especially down this way. Had a flag, needed to wave it. Way of things with MCs”
“I got the impression he was a bit soft on you”
The gaze she turned on me was frightening, and I saw some of the strength and ferocity that she always held inside, aspects I had only ever seen clearly when she had ripped her rapist a new arsehole before the jury.
“Who have you spoken to about this, Diane?”
“Nobody, love. I had my mike turned off when he spoke to me”
“Good. Keep it that way, please. Pig…”
She turned back to her inspection of the trees, as a bird started repeating “Chiff, chaff”. Her own voice was distant, musing now, as memories were brought out.
“I wasn’t sure, you know? I mean, I knew I was a girl, no bloody doubt there. Always had been, always will be. Which way I… My sexuality was another thing. Charlie and the others, the Parsons, they didn’t give a shit whether I was straight or gay or whatever. They just took what they wanted, and what I wanted was of no fucking consequence whatsoever. So I got out, and I was found, and, well, you know how much I loved those two”
“Pig spoke highly of them”
“He would do. They were his sort of people. I don’t mean MC types, but they were straight down the line. Always. He would come over every time we were at the same events, always brought a tray of teas over, always remembered how each of us took it, and it was Ken who worked it out. As I got older, as I grew up properly, properly for a girl, aye? Pig’s attitude was a little different each time, and don’t laugh, but I really think he was a shy man, at least where women were concerned. I had my own issues, didn’t I?
“I didn’t know what to think. I liked him, but it was a while before I realised I actually LIKED him, aye? Realised I was straight. I started to flirt a bit, and I always got a smile, and then…”
She was crying again.
“It was at a Welsh Coast do, aye? Up in the hills, and they had a bloody good band on, and I was watching the rally virgins get theirs. Always remember that one, two people staked out on the grass, starkers, aye? Everyone chilled, and nobody seeming to mind having a couple of full patches on site. We did some good business there, and it’s a gorgeous spot, and the pub wasn’t bad. Pig did his political bit, with a visiting patch from some English club, and he’s talking to some huge bastard with blonde hair for an hour, and then Ken was closing down the stall early. What are you doing, I say, and he simply says that for once he is at a rally so chilled he is going to take the day off and remember why he loves the scene.
“So he takes Mam over to the pub for a proper meal, not a fry up or a burger, and that’s being sneaky, because Pig offers to look after me, and you know, I liked that idea. Liked it a lot. He’s not that far off my age, not an MC Prez back then, not even called Pig. He was going by Goat at the time; likes his animals, he does. Did. Anyway, we hit the bar, and there’s decent ale, tinned, but still OK, and a disco, and a band, and some of the girls are really letting themselves rock out, and so I take the risk, and for the first time I am ALIVE. He was a good-looking guy before the axe and spade and shit, and there’s a twinkle in his eyes, and, well. Seems I’m straight when it comes to fucking affairs of the heart. And it’s a pretty normal evening from then on, with us sucking each other’s face off round the back of the stall, and I had enough of a chest back then to appreciate the fact that he was appreciating it, and he had his tent, and…”
I could see her fists clenching as she paused.
“We went back to his tent, and we did things, and he wanted to do other things and, yes, it is one of the ways girls like me can do those things, and I had already done several things, and then… Then all I could see, all I could hear was fucking Charlie, Charlie who says he fucking LOVES me, and I couldn’t, and he saw, did my Carling, and all he did was lift me up and hold me till morning. I could never let myself go like that again, and he knew, and he never, ever pushed it, never nagged, and that dirty old fucker destroyed my life in so many ways. If I could get away with it…”
She paused, turning to stare at me.
“No, Diane. Not true. Let that piece of shit rot and suffer, like I have. Now. Change of subject. Will you stand with me at my man’s funeral?”
CHAPTER 48
That night, I lay once more with my lover, safe in our home, in my family, and tried to find the words for him. I had already walked him through my interview, but that was a doddle in comparison.
“I want in to see Lexie afterwards, love”
“How is she? I haven’t had time to pop round since she woke up”
“Gemma’s taken over her diet”
“That should help. It’s not what you want to talk about, though. Is it?”
He knew me. Not ‘too well’, but as well as I could ever have dreamt. I rolled over to face him, and he pulled my head to his chest, gently, with all the love I would ever need. I found the tears far too easy.
“No, love. That’s not it. It’s Pig, yeah?”
“Oh?”
“And Deb”
“Ah. What exactly did he do?”
“From all accounts…. No. I was going to say something, but I think you’d have made the wrong assumption. That piece of shit we banged away in Carlisle, yeah?”
I felt his arms tense slightly, and when he spoke it was softly, dangerously so.
“Oh yes”
“Well, not like him, but the words were the same. I didn’t tell the Complaints people why Pig did what he did, at the end”
Slow breathing, strong arms, love and patience. My man left me to find my own words, in my own time.
“Pig was ill, love. Same thing, he said, same as Terry Pratchett, Glen Campbell. Alzheimer’s”
“Christ! That wouldn’t have been his way at all”
“Yeah. He said about it not being a good thing, dribbling. Bu that’s not it”
“Explains a lot, though. But Deb… I see. I assume it was a while ago, aye? How is she?”
“Ah, hell, Blake! Broken, but still going, isn’t it? Just gives me a bit of a problem. She wants me at his funeral”
I could feel his nod.
“Tricky one. You will have to speak to Williams, possibly higher, sort the approval”
“You think I should go, then?”
“Fuck, aye! She needs her friends with her right now. Might have to rig up a getaway car, just in case, but yes. I suspect his brothers will know exactly why you’d be there. Tomorrow, then, we speak to Sammy, get Williams teed up. Who do you need to tell about Morris and Deb?”
So typical of him, using ‘we’, and I thought of my parents’ initial assessment of him as ‘one of the good ones’. Dawn was slow in coming, but I stayed close to him until we were child-bombed by our son, which simply reinforced my feelings for Deb.
So alone, for so long.
Sammy was dutifully curious, but I had already rung Deb for her permission, which extended to Blake, Sammy and Bev Williams and no further. Sammy got us a chat with Williams in less than half an hour, and after the expected questions about Lexie, I came to the point.
“Boss, it’s the funeral. Carl Morris. Not for beyond these walls, but Deb Wells is going, and she has asked if I will stand with her on the day”
Bev looked puzzled for all of two seconds, then nodded.
“I see. How long ago was the relationship?”
“From what she said, too long ago while still not long enough. She was still living with her adoptive parents, and he wasn’t President of that club”
“Right. Then we need some ground rules, and don’t look at me like that. I was half-expecting something like this, given how he used our Force for his little coup. You do not go in uniform. You do not take any form of tribute, formal or otherwise. You do not go on to any wake, reception, party, orgy or whatever afterwards. We have a car waiting nearby, just in case. And you don’t need to go to their place and tell them you will be coming”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. We got a note this morning”
He picked up a piece of folded A4 paper and started to read.
“To the Superintendent in charge of the unit involved in the unfortunate and unwelcome incident at the Dragon Drinkers’ rally. This Saturday we will be saying farewell to our brother Pig, who served us well for so many years. We deeply regret the unfortunate circumstances that led to his demise, but wish to put that matter to rest”
He sat, eyebrows raised, waiting for the snorts of disbelief to die down.
“We are grateful that our brother was allowed to leave this world with dignity, as was right and fitting. We recognise that one police officer was generous in her spirit, enough to allow this to happen. She honoured our brother, and we would return that honour by asking her, and no other police officers whatsoever, to attend Pig’s final journey. Please deliver our invitation to DC Diane Sutton”
He folded the letter once more, and offered me a twisted smile.
“In and out, Diane. Let Deb have her moment, but keep in mind who and what these people are. Keep chat to a minimum. I have already been onto the top brass, and they are content with the arrangements. I suggest civvies of the more comfortable sort, but not any form of ‘biker chic’. Be there, be comfortable, but be distinctly not of their sort. It’s on Saturday, by the way. Coroner released the body after the enquiry”
We took the hint and rose to leave, but in his usual ‘one more thing’ style, Williams stopped us as we opened the door.
“Di?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Be at the Senedd the following Friday. Best rig, nine sharp. Bring a camera, Blake”
He waited just long enough for us to share a quick what-the-fuck look before grinning.
“Commendation, girl. Chief Constable wants to do it in the Pierhead, but with a pic on the plinth in front of the Senedd. Nine sharp. Bring family and friends”
My mouth moved before I could rein it in.
“With all due respect sir, you can be a right sod!”
He grinned again, in an utterly natural way.
“Privilege of rank, Diane! Now, scoot. Any issues on Saturday, get out immediately. Good luck”
As simple as that? Shit. What to wear?
That Saturday dawned bright and clear, thank god, as I was hardly dressed for shitty weather. I had found a dark-grey trouser suit, cut for flat shoes, in the back of my wardrobe, and even after carrying Rhod, it still fitted. Deb was at the door at ten, in worn leather jacket and old jeans, Paul and Paula in the rear seats of his car. I gave him the eyebrows as I buckled in, and he shrugged.
“Same sort of thing as you, Di. Load of shit about looking after one of theirs, so I assumed they meant my beloved here. Deb set me straight. You got the same BS from Williams?”
“Yeah. In, be polite, get out ASAP. Back seat, mate?”
“Class. Deb drives. Deb decides how”
She decided to pull away from the kerb, just then, and spoke while looking straight ahead.
“Done a wreath, girl, but it’s with the hearse. No worries about you two being seen with it”
“Ta, love. Where are we off to?”
“Carl’s old place in Dinas Powys, then off to Caerau”
She said hardly a word as we drove down to the station car park at Murchfield community centre, where what looked like hundreds of bikes filled the parking area, and I wondered what the routine would be. I was used to conventional funerals, where the cortege went to a chapel or other place of worship, sometimes attached to a cemetery of crematorium, but this one promised to be rather different. Paul and I sat in the car while Deb and Paula stood outside, receiving hugs and handshakes from some seriously scary men and women, before a loud engine note announced the arrival of the hearse.
I say hearse, for that was what it was, but it was unlike any other I had seen. Essentially, it was the front end of a motorcycle, but with the driver sitting back, attached to a double-axle flat-bed truck body, A glazed enclosure had been erected over the load bed, which bore the coffin and a variety of floral tributes to the man inside. On top of the coffin was a wild boar made of what looked like holly branches. The two women re-joined us in the car, and the noise levels rose further as the bikes fired up. I did note a complete absence of crash helmets, but rather suspected that particular law wouldn’t be enforced.
We pulled out of the car park, the noise deafening, and there was no stately procession at twenty mph to the cemetery. We weren’t going particularly fast, but the mourners were definitely moving with purpose. Out of Dinas Powys, through St Andrews, past Wenvoe, other traffic blocked off by groups of bikers parked across the junctions. Up to the big roundabout at Culverhouse Cross, the side roads blocked off once more, and then into the Western Cemetery and park up.
I noticed several big men with partial badges on their backs walk away from the crowd, and Paul caught my eye.
“Prospects, aye? Off to secure the perimeter, make sure nobody comes in they don’t think should be here”
I nodded, turning my own eyes back to Deb, who was trembling. I squeezed her forearm, just as Elwyn had done for me, and she gave me the ghost of a smile.
“Showtime, Di. Stay with me, OK?”
Out of the car, and she made sure she had her arm in mine, the Sedakas close behind us, joined the same way, and we made our way over to the hearse, where a solid-looking older woman was waiting.
“Debs”
“Rosie”
Without warning, Deb broke down, nearly collapsing beside me, and I was struggling to hole her up when the other woman came forward.
“You’re that copper”
“Yes”
“You were there. Tell me our Carling died well”
“I don’t think…”
“Not a request, girly”
Class, DC Sutton. Their version of P, P.
“He sang to me just before, yeah? So, yes. He died well. He died with courage”
“What did he sing? No lies. I will know if you do. Stand up, Debs. Time to be strong”
“I don’t know the song. He was talking about Glen Campbell?”
“Ah. It’ll be Wichita Lineman, then”
I tried to remember the tune, and did my best to deliver it.
“I hear you singing in the wires…”
All of a sudden, as quickly as Deb, she was in tears. The two of them clung to each other for a while until they had some measure of control, Rosie turning to me and holding out her hand.
“Don’t think I like the filth, all of a sudden, but I will make an exception here. You, and that other copper behind you, aye? You looked after our sister here. You kept her safe. I know what you did for her in fucking Carlisle as well, and I don’t think that cunt has much time left to breathe. You two, I will make an exception for. For today only, though. Deb, darling, you walk with me. You too, Posh”
Paul whispered to me as the women turned away.
“Wildcat, Pig’s Old Lady. Don’t ever get on the wrong side of her”
The rest was weird, or at least very, very different to what I was used to, even more so than the hearse had been. Several big men carried the coffin to the edge of an open grave, where a much older man in some sort of robes spoke about Odin and Thor, before the coffin was opened and Rosie stepped forward. The sort-of-priest nodded to another man, who raised a thing that looked like a brass flagpole, but with a stylised boar’s head on it. It turned out to be a sort of war horn, and as he blew a series of loud and braying notes, Rosie placed an axe inside the coffin before once more closing the lid.
As the remains of Carl Morris went into his last home, Paul took my arm.
“The welcome won’t last forever. Paula’s heading back to the car. We get out now, OK?”
CHAPTER 49
We drove away as quietly as we could, and it was a few minutes of travel before I asked the obvious question.
“What about Deb?”
Paula laughed, but it was strained.
“Oh, she’ll be fine. They’ll take her back to the club. Proper bunkhouse and stuff there. One of them will see her home tomorrow. I think Rosie and her have a lot of catching up to do”
Paula looked out of the window for a while, before adding, in a much quieter voice, “The scene, the life, you know? Never leaves you. Never going to leave me, is it?”
She sat in silence for a few minutes more, then spoke up, in a bright, brittle tone.
“Beloved man of mine…”
“Aye?”
“Word to the wise, Diane. I may use that as a joke, but I am never joking when I say it, if you get my meaning. It’s the same thing from me to you, just without the sweaty bits. Man of mine, this afternoon has advanced almost beyond the yardarm. Could we please go somewhere and get pissed? Would you mind?”
“Got the car, love”
“Then drop us two off there, take Snowball here home to her garage, and grab a bus or a cab. I intend to make a few calls. Get on the phone, Diane!”
I put my hand over the seat back to squeeze her shoulder.
“Why, love?”
I realised she was crying then, hard, racking sobs.
“Why? Because we’ve just seen one of our best friends, one of the truest there can ever be, we have just watched her bury what I suspect was her one and only lover, and for fucking stupid reasons we can’t stand with her, nor can we drink with her, but we can damned well do it for ourselves!”
I dug out my mobile and started the calls.
It had to be the Smugglers, of course, the Eli not being quite the place for what we had in mind, and they knew (and appeared to like) us in the pink pub. Paul dropped us off and drove away to park his gleaming white car, as Paula and I walked in to find the bar rather quieter than usual. Early in the day, I supposed, but Marilyn was already behind the bar.
“Look what the fucking cat just dragged in! You! The skinny tart! We don’t want your sort in here!”
I started to bristle just before he added “Fucking best-selling authors! Come here for a snog, darling! No tongues; Marilyn does NOT swing that way…”
There was an almost audible click as his perception swung into action, and he slumped slightly as he walked out from behind the bar.
“Sorry, love. I’m an idiot Funeral today, wasn’t it?”
I nodded, and once again he smiled, but with a gentleness I had never before seen in him.
“Deb will have stayed, then. Are you expecting more people this evening?”
I held up my phone.
“Should be a few”
“OK. I’ll set one of the small rooms aside for you. Let me know anything else you need”
He went back to the bar, returning with two obviously double vodkas, a single whisky and a couple of bottles of fruit juice. He raised his glass to us both.
“Absent friends, grieving friends, healing friends. Deb”
We drank to that, and then he showed us to a smaller room with a hatch to the main bar, and in short order we were joined by Rhys, Jon, Ellen, Candice, Jazz… the list went on for a while, but eventually our own two men walked in, Paul looking slightly embarrassed. He came straight over to his other half, taking her in his arms for more than a moment before looking over his shoulder and smiling at me.
“I was cheeky, Di. The car’s at your place, not mine. Your Dad dropped the two of us off”
Blake loosened his own hug on me.
“They’re staying over for Rhod and the beast. They understand Dad’ll collect us whenever, aye? We doing a whip?”
More people…Several of Deb’s older charges, or at least three of them, and then Marilyn donated several bowls and plates of finger food to help soak up the alcohol, which was actually no surprise to me. This was a man who held tight to his loyalty, despite the well-cultivated abrasiveness of his public persona. Moments of merriment, interspersed by other periods of reflection, especially when someone mentioned Lexie, and at that her doctor appeared, Chris in tow, just as the alcohol was starting to bite me in the common-sense section of my brain. Blake and I stayed on for about another hour, but I was losing my need for company, at least in terms of large numbers. I just needed my family now, wrapped around me, that world of Class and violence left outside, scraped off my soul like mud off a boot. Other people were already drifting away in ones and twos, but Chris stopped me just as I was about to leave our little space.
“Got some news, Di”
“Oh? Don’t know if I can afford a new dress for a wedding!”
“No, not that, love. Elaine”
Oh for god’s sake! Couldn’t fate leave us alone for a while! He obviously read my expression, for he held up both hands to calm me.
“No, Di! Good news! Only good news!”
“And? I have a child and a cat to get home to”
“And an edible piece of beefcake, mmm”
“Husband. Straight. Mine. Get to the point”
He suddenly grinned, the first moment of unbridled joy I had seen that day.
“Brother-in-law, remember?”
I had a half-memory, fuddled by several vodkas and copious glasses of dry white.
“Oh! Doing the five-knuckle-shuffle for them, wasn’t he?”
“You are drunk, DC Sutton. And I rather doubt he was, as he has a wife to do it for him”
I found myself giggling at that vision, and then I realised the relevance.
“Shit, mate! Which one? Which one’s up the duff?”
His smile put the previous one to shame.
“Both of them, Di! Both well-advanced! Two fucking fat ladies! Well, not exactly fucking, they don’t swing that way, but you take my point”
I found my legs folding, but Blake was behind me, and grabbed a seat.
Out of death, life. Both of them. Shit…
The morning sun was bright even through our bedroom curtains, and Fritz was rumbling on the pillow beside my head as hubby came in with a tray of tea.
“You all right, love? Never seen you quite that pissed before”
“Sorry. How was Paula?”
“They are on the sofa bed. Mam and Dad are off home in a minute”
“Thanks. I wasn’t intending to get that bad, to be honest. Was just such a heavy day. So many ghosts”
He settled his weight on the edge of the bed and handed me a cup of tea.
“No matter. I think neither of us has ever needed to explain that sort of thing, have we. Was it Chris who knocked you down?”
“You what?”
“His news, or whatever it was. I couldn’t hear him over the chatter”
“Oh! Then you don’t know!”
“Know what?”
“Um, you know that Lainey and her other half are broody?”
“Bugger, aye! Their brother-in-law… Ah! Which one?”
“Both of them”
“They never do things by halves, those two. We need a date to plan for”
I sipped my tea, eyebrows raised in mute query, though I had a very good idea of what he meant. I still let him talk it through, though.
“Got good family, haven’t they, but all so far away. Not in miles, but those are shit roads, and they will need someone there to look after the transport and stuff… You already knew what I meant, didn’t you?”
“I married you, love, because I know you, inside and out. How could my man not want to look after our friends when we are needed? Re Paul and Paula up yet?”
“Aye. Paula’s spilling Stickle Bricks everywhere with Rhod”
“Well, my hangover isn’t THAT bad”
We got down to breakfast a little later. Well, not exactly a ‘little’ later. It did ease my hangover, though.
Once again, it was anti-climax at work. Lexie was soon in the office, though on the lightest of duties, a bandanna covering what was left of her hair, but the bruising was gone, and while she was clearly tiring easily, she had a smile for us all that sang of coming home. That was how it seemed to be for all of us, the team serving as a second family, or perhaps a first for some of us, and the period of calm allowed all the usual dynamics to play out. Candice was on form, Ellen and Rob quietly got on with their own arrangements, but the celebration as they moved in together was in the Eli Jenkins for a meal and a pint rather than the full-on debauch that the Smugglers would have delivered. It wasn’t boring, not in any way at all, but it was nice to be allowed a few months that didn’t involve helicopters, things that made loud bangs or, in particular, morgues and their contents. Rhod was about to start playschool, and I almost felt, for the first time since finding my feet in the Job, that I was taking money from my employers under false pretences.
That all changed, exactly on schedule, with a call from Chris to the office.
“DC D Sutton”
“Hiya, girl1 Thought you’d want to know: Siân’s up on blocks”
“Eh?”
“Waters have broken!”
“Shit, mate! Where is she?”
“Lainey’s got her to hospital, but she sounds hyper”
“No bloody wonder, mate. You going over?”
“Can’t just yet. Whole load of work stuff I can’t get out of. She’s not officially family, so I can’t play that card.”
“Then let me go, and we’ll sort. Thanks for letting us know”
He laughed.
“Might not be officially family, Diane Sutton, but that is exactly what we all are. Layers! Keep me up to speed”
“Eh?”
“Oh, bollocks. You and Big Boy will be on your way over in five, am I right?”
“Guilty!”
I hung up, and shouted to Blake.
“Siân’s about to drop, love”
He was all studied calm, but with a twinkle lurking in his eyes.
“Grab bags are in the boot ready, love”
“Sneaky bastard! Sammy?”
Our boss looked up with a much more obvious grin.
“He’s already arranged it, mate!”
“Sods that you are!”
Sammy’s happy grin softened, real warmth shining through.
“Just make sure our friends are looked after, Di. Quiet here; come back when everything’s squared away, OK?”
I closed down my computer and locked my files away, as Blake rang Mam, but I made bloody sure I gave him a serious tickle on the way down to the car. Grab bags in the boot, the cheeky bastard, and at that I loved him more than I could say. I had married him because I knew him, and I knew him because I had married him. Chicken and egg, but my man, my family. Elaine had that with her wife, and she would always be there for us as well, so what else could we do. Blake shoved one of our favourite CDs into the stereo, and as we drove west we were both singing along as happily as the idiots we must have resembled to random passing strangers.
It was the first time I had ever seen him driving in any way without utter focus, but he was still smooth, still safe, and we arrived in one piece at the Powell’s front door. Elaine’s car was there, along with another I didn’t recognise. Her Mam and Dad?
Out and up to the door, the bell surprisingly loud, and I giggled at memories of comments about Elaine’s hearing after so many years on a bike. She opened the door herself, waddling with her pregnancy, and I gave her a careful hug.
“Hiya Lainey. We heard, so we’re here to see if you need anything”
She was gaping like a landed fish, so I kept the smile turned on.
“Kettle on, love? We’re gasping, hint, hint”
I stepped forward, just as she moved to the side, and I headed for the living room as elaine called after me.
“Tea’s already made, should be enough for two more, but I’ve already got visitors”
Blake hugged her as I made my way into the house.
“Yeah, couldn’t miss the other car in the drive. Who’ve you got?”
I left them behind me, talking over my shoulder.
“Yeah, cuppa be great. Grapevine’s been working overtime, so we know about Siân. Got Mam on babysitting duty, isn’t it, so we’re free to do the same for you—oh fuck!”
I couldn’t help that last one, which burst from my mouth as I opened the living room door to see two people already on the settee. I found myself speechless, my mouth working much as Elaine’s had at our arrival. Two people, one small, skinny and male, one slightly larger. Dark-haired. Female. Oh shit and bollocks. My voice was that of someone much smaller when I finally got the words out.
“Hello, Annie”
CHAPTER 50
She sat up like a frightened kid, looking absolutely terrified, and I saw that gasping fish movement once more. Shock? Terror? Either way, she found her own voice, but only just.
“Diane”
She was trembling, and still sitting bolt upright up she simply stretched her arm backwards without another word, and Eric’s hand was there for hers. I saw that smile, once again, as she had turned to see him in the church, and if I hadn’t known then, I knew now. This was absolutely right, absolutely my friend in all of her widescreen and HD reality. P, DC Sutton. P, p. I hunted my own voice down, and brought it back kicking and fighting, but thankfully not squealing. I turned to the door, to my own rock, waved him forward, and found my best smile to go with the words.
“Annie… Annie, love, I’d like you to meet my husband. Blake, come in. Please”
Elaine followed my husband in, looking as worried as Annie, just as that woman rose, tugging Eric with her. He stepped closer to her, and his arms went round her from behind, chin resting on Annie’s shoulder, cheek against her hair. Despite the tenderness, there was a threat in his posture, and his gaze and voice were absolutely flat. In other circumstances, I would have found myself reaching for my spray or asp.
“And you are?”
Annie tilted her head ever so slightly to her right, taking the pressure of his cheek on her own and placed her left hand on his, squeezing, lovingly.
“This is Diane, love. I used to work with her years ago. She’s not a threat”
Her eyes flickered, just a little suspicion dawning.
“And how did you know my name? That it was me, that is?”
Blake had my hand, and he stepped over to an armchair, as that seemed to be all that was left, dropped into it with a great display of overacting and pulled me onto his lap. His voice was cheerfully light, but his cuddle was as fiercely protective as Eric.
“Can one of you please pour us some tea? Lainey said there was some made”
Another flicker from Eric’s eyes, and then he kissed Annie’s cheek, turned her on the spot and all but pushed her back onto the settee. He left the living room, not without a searching look at me, clearly set on doing what Blake had asked. I watched him go, before turning back to my ole friend, who looked lost without her man, trembling but trying to face me down. Her eyebrows went up.
“And? Answer the question, Di”
I couldn’t hold her gaze and dropped my eyes.
“I’ve sort of been keeping an eye on you, Annie”
That was so clearly not the right thing to say, and her search for courage switched to a slowly rising boil. Oh hell. I held up my hands, do the conflict resolution dance, oh yes.
“No, Annie. Not like that. Lainey let me know. Wasn’t just that time on the phone”
The boil was intensifying, and Lainey looked absolutely sick with embarrassment, starting her own game of ‘Listen, Empathise…’
“I stuffed up, aye? Siân’s already been on my back about it, others too, so I’ve already had my telling off. Oh, sod it. You know I couldn’t make that day you met your family?”
Annie’s glare changed to puzzlement.
“Aye, but you sent Twm and Arwel, and… oh, hell!”
Eyes wide now in sudden comprehension.
“Where were you, Diane? Blake? That was you, wasn’t it? Clapping?”
Blake’s chin was on top of my head as he cuddled me, so I could feel him nod.
“She went blonde, Annie, just for a week. Your playing, shit, you’re bloody good. Couldn’t help myself, could I? Anyway, didn’t think you’d noticed”
“You weren’t the only one clapping, were you?”
“Not really, no. Whole café caught on, in the end. Look, well…”
He pulled me closer into his warmth, his strength, his safety.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, none of you. I have a lot to live up to here, but I do my best, and it seems to work. I’ll just say this once, get it out. My wife always had a thing for you, just never knew why it never came back her way. When she found out why, it did a lot for her”
I tried to rise, but he held me tight.
“No, love. Shush. Has to be said, OK?”
A gentle kiss, and then he decided to spill my life story all over the living room carpet.
“My darling here had some bad times when she was younger”
Not now! Not my day! His arms tightened again, and he simply kept on.
“No, I’ll tell this, love. She was raped. Simple as. Self-esteem, self-worth, both raped at the same time. Took me a long time to get through to her, and all she could talk about was you, Annie”
Eric reappeared with a tray of teas, and Blake took two cups, one after the other, setting them on the little table beside the chair after a nod from Elaine.
“Glass top, aye? Just put the cups straight down. Won’t damage it. She’s got you well trained, I see”
I could feel him chuckle, and he turned to Annie’s husband, shuffling us a little more upright before handing me my tea.
“Thanks, Eric”
He sipped for a while, finding the words, then began again, quietly, almost as a reminiscence rather than a conversation.
“Took me a long while, as I said, and all the time it was trying to find out why she was so down on herself. Have you told them, Lainey?”
Elaine sighed, shaking her head in resignation, then looked at Blake and me, her next words leaving no room for argument.
“You two, Sar doesn’t know all of this, aye, so please, confidential as, OK?”
I couldn’t see where she was going, but nodded, and then realisation hit me along with Elaine’s next words.
“Annie, how much has she told her about that trouble she had?”
“The beating, from that Joe Evans? And the two coppers in the hospital—”
Her eyes opened again, and I had a real twinge of sympathy for her system and the shocks it was getting.
“Oh, fuck! I saw the names in the Llais y Sais. Sorry, didn’t realise. Read it on a trip back home, Aunty Esther takes it, don’t know why. That queer-bashing crap, aye? Evans and Pritchard, they were coppers, weren’t they?”
Elaine was just building her snarl to the level I remembered too well.
“Yup. And Joe Evans beat Sarah up”
“He wasn’t there as well?”
Elaine spat the words out.
“He’s been sectioned. Apparently, he pissed himself at the custody desk when he clocked who I was”
“Same family?”
“Oh yes. Same group of shits”
My former colleague’s gaze could have stripped flesh; she was Job to the core, obviously.
“I am going to take a stab in the dark here, but I think I’ll be spot on. How old were you, Di?”
It came back in a rush, just like the sound of pebbles in surf.
“All of sixteen, Adam. Annie, sorry. Yes. The same fucking family. Locked up now, all of the shits”
Annie turned to Eric, and a look passed between them which told of pain I hadn’t been told of, or at least not then. She rose, head tilted to one side, eyes now on mine, and took the few steps needed to bring her to our armchair, kneeling at Blake’s feet and opening her arms to me. What else could I do but uncurl from my man into the embrace of my old friend? She hugged me tight, and then looked up at my husband as she spoke.
“You too love, you too. Locked up, I mean, all these years. Thanks, Blake, for letting her out. I’m so sorry I didn’t see”
My throat was closing up, a sob trying to break free, but I turned it into some sort of snorting laugh, which clearly fooled nobody.
“And it would have worked how, exactly?”
The attempt at laughter didn’t even fool me, because the tears followed, as did Annie’s, and we just held each other until Eric did his best to bring us back to the time, place and rather important events we were actually there for.
“Tony wants a call as soon as, Lainey. Says he’s not worried, not really. Can I use yours? Mine’s out of juice”
Elaine was also a little swept away, but she was as much in control as ever.
“On the side there. Just, aye? No mention of what we just told you. Sar doesn’t know, and I’d rather she didn’t find out”
“No worries”
The conversation was pretty anodyne, and I realised it was to Elaine’s brother-in-law, by all accounts the biological father of the babies that would hopefully arrive shortly. He replaced the handset and sat for a few seconds staring into his own world of thought before looking to Annie for reassurance, then turning to us.
“What’s your plans just now? I am assuming you were intending to do what Annie and I had planned, and look after the two fat ladies till they’re a bit slimmer?”
Blake laughed out loud as the mood broke.
“Mate, I thought I’d like you when I saw you face down that crowd in the café! Here, take my hand, and let’s sort this out as best we can. Oh—love, bathroom. Get a towel!”
What? I saw where his eyes were pointed, and the dark stain spreading across the other armchair.
“Shit! Lainey, got a bag ready?”
“Uh?”
“You not feel—oh, hell. Your waters, love”
I shot up the stairs, guessing correctly at the second door, and grabbed a medium-sized towel. Downstairs again, and my darling was in his own P. P zone.
“Our car, Lainey. Eric, you come with us, leave these two to sort things out between them. Where’s the grab bag, Lainey? Used to this, I am, so once cleaned up we are offski. Got the number?”
“Book next to the phone”
“OK. Annie, you or Di give the hospital a ring, Eric and I will get the sumo queen here up to her new bed. MY mobile is actually charged, so we’ll ring when we know. Neither of you is to talk to Sarah about you know what, OK?”
I received one of those patented Detective Inspector Powell Looks, and knocked it back with a grin.
“Well, you bloody well trained us all, girl! Just a second”
I grabbed her for a hug, which became three-way with Annie. Eric rushed back in with a small holdall, and a little video camera, which brought a laugh from Blake.
“Nice one, mate! Got some footage of ours, a bit messy, but, well, got to be done. Inspector Powell, your carriage awaits”
Eric grabbed Annie for a kiss that left no room for any doubts, and my man did his best to outdo him with me, which was nice, and then all three were shooting out the door, until Lainey shouted “Hold on!”
They paused, Annie joining them, as she gave her last, rushed instructions, which were limited to telling us about locks, keys and knife drawers, and then the front door was slamming.
Annie came back in, shaking her head.
“Need to call her Mam and Dad, aye? Phone book here… ah. Give me a minute!”
She dialled, and as is the usual way, I got half the conversation with what were clearly Elaine’s parents. Annie finished the call, hanging up in a very deliberate way, and after a few seconds composing herself, turned back to me.
“Tea? Might as well get comfortable. Twm and Sioned, that’s Lainey’s parents, will be over in a few hours, depending on traffic. There will probably be other family, so we need to find some common ground while we have the space, aye?”
She disappeared into the kitchen before I could do more than nod, and I suddenly felt abandoned. Blake was gone, but Adam was here, and at the same time it wasn’t him, but it was, and, well: life wasn’t trying to be simple in any way just then.
She returned with a tray, pot under a cosy, and pulled up the side table to hold it.
“Di?”
“Yeah?”
“I won’t bite. Sit by me?”
I sat at the other end, gingerly, but she was offering nothing but warmth as she asked the obvious question: what were we going to do? I started to laugh, largely with relief.
“You know something, Annie? What I said when Lainey showed me that bit in the tabloids? Get your tits out stuff?”
What a blush! It was followed by a gentle smile that slowly broadened into a grin.
“That wasn’t a bad day, girl! That was when my beloved actually asked me to marry him! A girl remembers that sort of day!”
I nodded, my own grin emerging.
“Yeah, exactly. So there we are in the pub, me cuddled up to Blake---”
“He’s a very big man”
“Oh yes indeed---oh, you dirty bitch! Wash your mind out!”
“Healthy married woman, healthy married appetite”
I just managed to keep my tea inside me.
“Well, those papers, Elaine got some copies, and she showed them to me and Blake, and I said something stupid like ‘Thank fuck I never asked her out’ and, well, I was right, wasn’t I? What it was… Blake said it. Locked up, I was. Yes, he’s a big man, and after Ashley fucking Evans…”
“Your gentleman friend with the personal space issues?”
That set me laughing, and she put a hand to my arm.
“Always kids about at home, Di, so euphemisms-are-us is the order of the day. Ashley Evans?”
“Aye. You know about Sarah, you said, Lainey’s sister, so you’ll know what happened to me. It was the classic rape scenario, the sort the papers love. Abduction, threat of a weapon, violence, bloody stranger-danger rubbish… Well, both of us, that’s me and Sarah, got visited in hospital and told to shut up and go home, or else. Same two coppers. One of them was family to Ashley and Joe Evans. Did you hear about the result from our gay-bashing investigation?”
She gave me a sad smile, the pain behind it not quite hidden.
“I was a bit busy, love. Nonces, and then the bomb”
“Shit yeah! How is he?”
“Dennis? Just about back to his old self. Few new habits, a little less outgoing, but still there, still being a dad”
I could feel something else in there as well as pain, and she could see I’d picked up on it. Rather than a wince, I got the impish grin I was seeing as being so utterly her, while still Adam.
“All in sequence, Di! Tell you what tickles me in a bit, aye? Anyway, gay bashing”
“Short version? Three of our friends were up to their…. No. We are talking rape, girl, and that really isn’t the right metaphor. Joe Evans and two coppers went down, plus some mates, and then my other half and our team did a proper number on Ashley Evans. I wasn’t his only victim, and some of the other ones had also met our lovely trio, so all in all, we got there”
Her expression was softly quizzical at that point.
“It’s why you joined up, isn’t it?”
“Dead fucking right, Annie. Worked too! Now. Story of you? And your man?”
She lifted an arm, and it was obvious what she wanted, so I slipped into the cuddle, realising how utterly non-sexual it was. This was a friend, a married friend, a straight friend: a girl friend. We settled back into the sofa together, her voice soft as she looked back through the years.
“That was the thing about Dennis, love. He showed me which way I went”
“But you got married”
“Yeah, yeah. I call that the last throw of the ‘can’t I just be bloody normal?’ dice, and it was a stupid idea. Dennis arrived on station, and I heard his voice, and it’s like warm butter, and then I saw his arse and, well, hello heterosexuality. Ruthie—girl who became his wife, she’s actually called Kirsty, long story, anyway: Kirst thinks I’m just some gay bloke lusting after what she’s marked out for her own, so a little bit of misunderstanding, aye? And I suppose, back then, I was looking to switch over, transition, so it was all at the right time”
“And Eric?”
“Oh dear me, Eric. I think it was Steph who first saw it”
“Steph? Woodruff?”
“You know her?”
“Well, OF her, sort of. Long story”
“OK. Steph collars me one day, and she says something like ’which one is it you fancy?’, aye? And I will admit she confused me, so she explained that I spent all my time either taking the piss out of Eric or looking to Den for approval. Sharp woman, that one”
“So Eric. Why, how, you know what I mean”
“Sit up for a sec’ just want to top my cup up. You?”
“Procrastination is just not you, woman”
“Yeah, well. That is what you have wrong, because it was my whole life. Some friends kicked some sense into me, and he was there almost from the start, and he never, ever complained, never made a nasty comment. I knew him for years and years as Adam, and he was always the best of mates, aye? And it was me that saw it first, but to be honest I am not entirely convinced on that one. He is as straight as a ruler, Di, and he simply couldn’t… Look, he understood I was female, and he was fucking amazing about it, but this woman was wrapped up in some blubber-monster of beardy fat man”
I put a hand to her lips.
“You were never fat!”
She took my hand, lacing her fingers into mine.
“You should have seen me. Slow suicide by lifestyle, Di, and then my friends decided they’d close that game down, and he was there, and… I’ll show you pictures some time. Wasn’t a good place to be, aye?”
She was silent for a long time.
“It was the Woodruffs. They got us out at a festival, the whole lovely, mad family of them, and they just gave us the space, and the occasional timely push in the right direction, and… and…”
I found some tissues in my bag for her.
“Thanks, Di. That was the turning point, aye? We did… I decided, after the first day, or rather THEY decided, that I would start being me, and I looked like shit, but Eric’s problem is being straight, which isn’t a problem really because--- Sorry. Gushing. Our friends let us have time and space to see where we could go, and I made it plain to him what everyone else already knew, INCLUDING him!”
“Which was?”
“That I loved him, of course. I realised that it wasn’t some big revelation, no sudden wake-up call, but what I simply hadn’t spotted for the years we’d been meeting and riding together. Then, we were talking about one of the people who pulled me back from the edge, and I’d said to Eric about him having done more for me than anyone else but this friend”
“You remember it well, then?”
“Every bloody word, aye? So Eric says about how Ginny---that’s the friend—he says ‘Yeah, love, but Ginny actually did something’, and I think we got about a minute down the line before I thought hang on… Did he just say the word?”
She was smiling broadly now, even though her tears were flowing so readily.
“And the rest is history. Never backed away, never stopped being true to me. What more could I ever need?”
I squeezed her hand, partly because there were so many things unspoked but still made plain by the words she had given me. ‘I’ll show you pictures some time’, for one, implied that she had already decided we would be keeping in touch. I took the plunge.
“Got some pictures for you, Annie. One from me, and one from Lainey. Hang on while I grab my phone”
I stretched out for it, and flicked through the files… there. That one, then the one Elaine had sent me.
“This one, love, this is one Lainey sneaked at your wedding”
“Cheeky cow! Oh…”
“Eric turned around as you came in”
“I look so bloody soppy!”
“That’s called happiness, woman. Now this is one we sneaked”
It was the ‘Ice Cold in Alex’ shot, and she turned bright pink.
“God, that’s even worse! You need to delete those, almost immediately”
I twisted round to look her in the eyes.
“Almost?”
That cheeky grin once more, and I could see how right she finally was in her skin, how utterly comfortable.
“Almost, because I want you to send me copies first, aye?”
I was feeling utterly relaxed with her now, and it was so easy now to say that, the pronouns fitting so well, and I wondered how I had ever missed what and who she was. My musing was broken by al loud bang at the front door, and she sprang up to answer it. I heard a mixture of voices, and then she entered with an older couple. I recognised the man as Elaine’s father, Twm. Annie made the introductions.
“Diane? You obviously know Elaine’s Dad, and this is Sioned, her Mam”
Twm laughed. “No loner a blonde, then?”
I grinned back, taking Annie’s hand again as she stood by the settee.
“No need for sneaking about now, is there? Tea?”
“Aye. Please. Arwel is parking down the street. He has a holiday home thing on wheels”
I looked over to Annie again.
“A camper van, RV thing? That answers part of a question I had. Where is everyone going to sleep? Not exactly a hotel-sized house, is it?”
Annie laughed out loud.
“Some of us have come prepared, Di. You sort the tea out, and I will prepare the palace that will be Chez Johnson”
Twm just nodded. “Sioned will help with the tea while I hold your ropes, Annie”
Revelation! “Tents?”
“Yes, Di. It’s what we do for fun, me and ‘im indoors, or rather ‘outdoors’ while we’re over here. There will no doubt be a flood of visitors---oh, reminds me! Sioned, any ideas on how to clean wet upholstery?”
CHAPTER 51
Twm was off to the hospital as soon as he and Sioned had unpacked, which left the three of us to find our own balance in relative calm. To be honest, the more I sat with my old friend, the easier it got, and I caught Sioned smiling indulgently over her tea a couple of times, just as she caught me watching her.
“It is a revelation, isn’t it, Diane?”
“Um?”
“How you feel that you will never be able to accept someone as how they show themselves to you, and then you realise how wrong they were in their old role. You have not met our other daughter yet, have you?”
“No, not exactly”
There was just a little flicker behind her eyes, and I realised how hard she actually was, how formidable a mother.
“But you have met someone she knew, am I right? A nasty young man, and a couple of policemen that are no longer such?”
I caught Annie then, silent as she stared at me in her own intensity. I just nodded, and Sioned smiled.
“I expect you will meet her shortly, but understand this. I grieved for my son, and Twmi, my Twmi, wept. We mourned until we could see there was no reason to do so. That was a moment I shall ever remember, when we realised that our son had never existed”
She paused for a sip of tea, eyes down before they flicked back up.
“You will know that we did a lot of reading, of finding books and places on the internet that we hoped would inform us, if not actually help. There are so many, and most of them are not good sources, nor places to linger long. In the end, it became clear, and with prayer we understood. There has only ever been our Sarah, our other beautiful daughter, and if your friend may forgive me, we see that as being as true of dear Annie here as it is of Sarah. Annie?”
“Aye?”
“You will forgive my presumption?”
“Of course, love”
“Then please go to the sideboard over there. The bottom drawer has some albums. They are for the family, and by the family, and Elaine allows this”
Under Sioned’s guidance, Annie brought out a couple of large, brown old-school photograph albums, and I caught a cheeky smile from Sioned, almost matching Annie’s in mischief, as she joined the two of us on the settee.
“You will no doubt be used to digital albums, stored on computers? Well, these are from an older time, and besides, they need no electricity. Now… our two little ones at Traeth Mawr… Ah! This is what I sought”
It was a picture of four women, taken on a steep slope with the sea in the background. To the left was Elaine, heart-breaking in her youth, but still so clearly the person who had moved and shaken the whole of South Wales Police. To the right was a much slimmer girl, the same hair showing her kinship to her older sister.
“Sarah?” I asked, pointing.
“Aye. That is our other pretty daughter, when she was yet unknown to us. The other two girls were friends of theirs, Rebecca and Joanne, but they were lost before we could know them. A lorry driver who was… A misfortunate accident”
She sat silently for a few seconds, before turning the page sharply.
“Here! This is My other daughter, and my new one, at their wedding. Siân is… em… blessed with so much red hair. And here, here is the other wedding”
I could still see the girl on the hillside, but now so much more mature, in a gorgeous wedding dress, posed next to yet another huge man, black beard shot with little streaks of grey, both of them looking stunned by happiness. Sioned sat silently once more, a fond smile of fond memory glowing from within.
“That is the last of the real photographs, girls. The rest are printed from digital cameras, but they still hold our past. Here is Arwel and our grandson”
Another big man, one I remembered, with a sandy-haired boy and a black and white dog that seemed to be in mid-air, on a wide stretch of sand running down to the sea. There were more pictures, all holding smiles and warmth, and while I am fully aware that family albums are, by their nature, rather short on darkness, there were real moments of joy captured in that one.
Just then, Annie’s phone buzzed.
“Aye, love?”
After a short conversation, she closed her phone.
“Eric says that two fat ladies have both gone into the emergency weight-loos programme. Sorry, but his sense of humour is, well… His sense of humour is everything anyone knows me should expect. They have birthing partners, and each has a camera”
I must have looked puzzled, for she grinned at me.
“Grand-dad to be is in with Elaine, after your hubby said something about previous experience, he has gone in with Siân. Previous, Di?”
“Our own son, Annie. Rhodri. That your phone, Sioned?”
“Oh! Aye. A text message---expect Tony and Sarah shortly. Arwel and Alice will be here tomorrow. Annie, they will be in the garage, I am told”
“Ah. Too crowded now, aye? Di? Time to learn about putting up tents”
One big, one small, both so much easier to erect than my memories of camping with Dad in the North held. Mats and sleeping bags laid out and shaken, even more tea from Sioned, and then a rumble outside as two or more motorbikes drew up. I caught Annie almost salivating, and cocked an eyebrow at her.
“What? Oh, it’s Tony. He has a seriously tasty bike, and while I can’t ride the things anymore I can still appreciate the decent ones. Sioned, the old pot is still pretty full!”
“Fresh tea it will be, woman, or chocolate for the boy. Either way, there is a kettle to boil. Get the door?”
Three people, and while I had seen all of them in photos, the boy was a lot taller. He was the first to reach Annie, and as she hugged him he muttered something into her hair.
“No, Jim. He’s with his Nan and Grandad”
In answer to yet another silent query from me. “Our son, Di. Darren. No, don’t give me that look! Adopted, aye? Jim, no room here, love. Now, tents are up for you and your Mam and Dad, if you want to sort yourself out. Sar, Tony? Very old friend of mine this is, Di Sutton. Her man’s to the hospital with Eric, who says they’ve both gone in”
Tony’s tells were off the scale for worry, and Sarah simply stepped up to hold him from behind, staring at me.
“Another copper, aren’t you?”
“It shows that much?”
“Bloody hell aye! You, er, nicked the other guest bedroom?”
“Fraid so. Didn’t bring a tent, unlike this one”
“Ah, dim ots. The boy likes camping, anyway. Just don’t lock the back door, OK? Tone, er, Di, rather? Mind if we borrow your room to change? Jim just needs to get out of his waterproofs, and Annie?”
“Aye?”
“You can tell us who she is exactly while we change”
I wanted to say something about being from the team that jailed three of her old friends, but pulled it back just in time, as Sioned’s stare drilled all the way through my head to the wall behind me. P, P, DC Sutton.
They were all down in a few minutes, Jim opting, as predicted, for a hot chocolate as we arranged dining room chairs in the living room. Even though I knew her history, I couldn’t see anything in Sarah apart from ‘mother’ and ‘mature biker chick’, so I took the initiative.
“Hi. I am Diane Sutton. My other half Blake is in the hospital with the mothers-to-be. I worked with Elaine on a big project in Cardiff, and, well, I know we’re all a bit biased here, but she gets under your skin, so Blake and me, that’s my husband, we popped over”
Annie was snorting.
“Gets under your skin, ye gods! Sarah, pull your horns in, woman. Diane: do you mind if I give them some background?”
I simply shrugged and nodded, and she grinned back at me, so bloody happy in her skin.
“Sar, I worked with Di here for a while before I moved to England. When I had… when I had one of my bigger nasties, Di was there to pick up the pieces, and she was the one who kept me sane in hospital. That one with the fire, aye? The three kids?”
There was a clear ‘shit’ from Sarah, but Tony just nodded, looking closely at me while he gathered his words. They came with a gentle smile, though.
“I see. You got the wrong end of things there, then. I am going to put you on the spot here, so apologies in advance. How do you see Annie now?”
I flicked a glance to my left, and gave him yet another shrug.
“How I should have seen her years ago, Tony. Annie?”
“Aye?”
“You mind if I show them that pic from the café?”
She grinned again, and I pulled out my phone.
“Bit of a story here, isn’t it? Blake and I had the heads-up, so when Annie went to see her family the first time--- shhh, Sar! Yes, that was when we first saw your uncle. My story, yeah?”
Tony was laughing out loud at that.
“Darling, doll-features, heart-face: no bloody doubts here that your sis trained this one!”
Whole glaciers were calving, shattering into G&T-sized chunks as we spoke. I grinned back at him in appreciation.
“Anyway, this photo, hubby and me call it the Ice Cold in Alex shot. You know where they hold back before tasting the beer?”
Multiple nods, even from Jim: a family of taste and appreciation of the finer things, it seemed.
“Well, this shot is when Eric walked in with the other lad”
Sarah muttered “Geoff”, still leaning forward in attack mode, but when the photo was passed round her relaxation was immediate. Annie tried to gloss over things with comments about soppiness, but Sarah simply chopped her hand in the air to shut her up.
“Diane, I am pleased to meet a true friend to this girl. She has always had them, but she has been far too stupid to understand that simple fact. Eric is a… He is someone that goes beyond”
She looked hard at her family, something else there in her eyes.
“We lost a friend a little while ago, a new friend we were just getting to know. He was a man who helped a young girl when she needed it, and it was Eric who was there throughout. This man, yes? He was the brother of a friend of a friend of another friend, and so on, but…”
She shook her head hard before continuing.
“Men, yeah? So much crap spoken about them. So much rubbish about how all the world’s problems are down to them, and I look at what I see here. Dad. My darling husband. This boy here, our son. Bloody Eric… Di?”
“Yeah?”
“Your husband?”
“Blake?”
“Blake. Can I take a guess? That he is someone who can see past the surface, see into the soul, see what is needed?”
I nodded back
“Absolutely. I had issues before we met”
“I know”
She paused to look around her family.
“Jim, love? Could you please go and check the tents? Mam and Dad have some things to discuss that are a bit… Please, aye?”
The lad gave her a long hug before leaving, and as soon as he was out of the room, she swept us with her glare.
“You must all think I am stupid! Diane, who was it nicked Joe Evans?”
I simply stared back, till she grimaced.
“Not only do I watch the news, but I get the papers from home. That cunt---sorry, Mam1 Evans and Pritchard, and my dear friend Joe. I know they went down a little while ago, and I am pretty sure, from what Lainey said she was doing jut then, that she was involved. If you were working for her, girl? Tell me the fuckers went down hard!”
I felt my face snarling, and I was astonished at how feral Sarah’s own expression became. Fuck P, P for once.
“Blake and I were involved. The stop was… I emptied a whole can of pepper spray into Dai Pritchard’s face. Lainey broke someone’s face with her baton”
“Joe Evans”
I came back from my memories, and he was leaning forward, eager for more. I looked across to her husband, and his expression was that of Bryn and Barry with my peppered pig.
“Joe. You do know it was the whole fucking family? My own…”
Fuck it,
“Ashley fucking Evans raped me, and the same two cunts that you met visited me in hospital. We weren’t their only victims”
“Joe”
“Ah, shit. He, well, Lainey said to him, ‘Elaine Powell. Don’t think you know me, but you’ve met my sister’. That’s when he pissed himself, standing at the Custody desk. Sar, I could introduce you to so many other victims, but no point. Him, and that bastard who raped me, they’re done… Shit! Come here, love!”
The tears would wash out
CHAPTER 52
On a hunch, as I cuddled Sarah, I looked across at her Mam, to see her face crumpled.
“Sioned?”
“Yes?”
“Can we agree a way forward? This is… This is bloody awkward. I don’t think it would be good for Elaine, would it?”
One hand came up to rub her forehead, and I suspected to wipe a tear, so I pressed on.
“I have said what my problem was, but I think I need to be clear. I was raped. It was by a relative of Joe Evans, and the same two bastards came to see me in hospital as visited Sarah. I found out… I lost faith in my own parents, and it was years till I found out that they still had faith in me. My Mam had bloody press clippings, and it was Elaine’s work that got two arseholes out of the picture, stopped them hurting someone else like they did me and Sarah”
I stopped just then, and grinned at them all, without mirth.
“Like that actually worked! Never mind; we got them for other shit, and then well… Sarah?”
“Yeah?”
“How much of what went on over my way did you read? The other rapes, for a start?”
She dropped her eyes, nodding.
“Those trans kids… That bloody well hit home”
I found myself on P, P and a sudden surge of maturity that trumped everyone else’s age advantage,
“Right, you lot, Detective Constable time, isn’t it? We have opened up a can of shit-puking worms here, and I am going to deliver some more, so please, please understand why, OK? Now, we all have issues with the same little collection of orifices, sorry, Sioned, so we have agreement there. Now, Lainey has… Lainey was ill for a while, and I think we all know that it was all tied up with what happened to Sarah here, and no: no fault, no blame, OK?”
Sarah nodded, slowly, but clearly, and I looked across to her Mam, who gave me the same message. I smiled round the room, lingering in Tony’s gaze.
“Leave her to her love for her sister, then. We know, and we love her for it, so don’t shatter her dream. Some day, she’ll be able to cope, but it’s that locked door idea, isn’t it? She’s been pushing hard, and if we open it, she falls flat on her face. Look. While we were chasing the gang we’re talking about, we had half a dozen people in the frame, and Lainey kept on and on about them being three. It was a bit worrying, if you take my point. She needed… the scenario? The focus?”
Sioned stared hard at me.
“I will need to speak to Twmi, to her father, but are you saying we should leave her support in place? Leave that door locked?”
I nodded back, and tried to find the words about that focus, that need, and it wasn’t until Tony himself was holding me that I realised how freely my own tears were flowing. I found a grin somewhere.
“Shit, if you need an example of obsessive bloody focus, I will have to introduce you to the bloody Elliotts. Not today, though. Don’t ask. Now, are we agreed about Elaine? New mother, new life, no revelations? Oh, and Sar: you must be a seriously good actress!”
She broke the mood, beautifully.
“Oh, yes. I mean, I have faked every orgasm ever!”
Two seconds of pause before she added “But I am a lousy liar”
I looked around at the grins, even one from her Mam, for god’s sake, and decided we needed to switch directions.
“Aren’t we forgetting something, people? Two fat ladies?”
Sioned beamed at that one.
“What could go wrong when their Dad is in attendance? Now, tea? I have brought some few things to eat, but it is not much”
The front doorbell went, Sarah jumping up to answer it and returning with Eric, who waved some car keys at me.
“Your man said not to crash it! Hi, Tone, Sar. Where’s Jim?”
Once more, I saw someone shuffling the numbers in his head before deciding he had all the sums he needed for that moment.
“Adult conversation… I don’t need to know. Room next to my wife at all?”
Tony shook his head.
“I think, from what Sioned says, we need the car again. I’ll grab Jim. Is there anything around here like a decent Chinese takeaway?”
Sarah struck a sneering pose, holding it just long enough to mutter something about technophobic fossils before breaking down in giggles and holding her phone up.
“Already on it, cariad. Place down towards town, and they deliver. Menu’s online. Grab the boy and we can order a mix and match. Mam, I know you’ve been baking, but there’s a lot of us, so do you mind a takeaway? Oh, and it’s our treat, me and Tone, this time. No silliness with tiny portions. Eat properly tonight because some of us might have to stay up by the phone. Hi, Jim! Just in time; can you check the fridge, see what we have in terms of milk and stuff? Uncle Arwel and Aunty Alice will be here tomorrow, and you know what his shopping is like”
The lad grinned. “A lorry load of beer you mean, Mam? I’ll have a look”
He was back in a minute.
“Two pints. No sausages, only four eggs, one pack of eight rashers, half a sliced loaf”
Sarah grinned once more.
2My boy never does half a job. Now, sod the delivery, then. There’s a supermarket behind the Chinese, and Di? If you are willing to drive, we can get tomorrow’s breakfast while we ait for tonight’s meal. Mam? You and the boys hold the phone for news?”
She tugged Annie and myself to our feet, and we were off down the road, Sarah giving clear directions as I drove, along with a little hint about leaving the ‘men’ to sort out their side of things.
“My Tone is simply going to be fretting non-stop, so leave him to do it without having to put a front up. Mam’s used to him by now. Left here…”
We ordered our food, and as they began the preparation Sarah led us round the supermarket, almost filling a trolley with the makings of enough Full Welsh Breakfasts to cater for an army, plus teabags, what seemed like a couple of gallons of milk, butter, jam, the works. Annie made a comment about someone called Ginny killing her, and Sarah guffawed.
“Eric has told me all about half a bloody grapefruit eaten with a Special Spoon, woman, but that is not for today. Get some bloody fruit if you want, but can you see Arwel accepting it? Anyway, the two of you will ride it off, sure as eggs… ah. Eggs. Nearly forgot. Right! Till, load car, grab food, get back to our boys”
Back to the Fortune House for our Banquet for the 5,000, and back to the house, where Annie and I were left to unload the lard from the boot while Sarah rushed in to start plating up. My old friend and I carried bag after bag down the hallway into the kitchen, and I was more than a little disappointed to see all the hot food left to cool down on the worktops, plates nowhere in sight.
Disappointed… I rushed into the living room as the realisation hit me. Four people were huddled on the sofa, three of them in tears. Annie went straight past me to her husband, calling out “And?”
The bigger man just kissed his wife, so, so tenderly, and gave us a smile soppy enough to give Annie competition.
“Four healthy people, Annie. Two women. One boy. One girl. Twm says ten fingers, ten toes, lungs that work very well indeed. The girls are in a room together. Both are worn out, but no issues, no scares, just…”
He was crying again, and Sioned took over.
“Diane?”
“Yes?”
“My other pretty daughter asks if you can do the work of telling her other friends. She says you know who to call. Jim, cariad, please help your Aunty here to get our supper onto plates, otherwise it will have cooled before we can eat it”
I grabbed my mobile, and then turned back to Sioned.
“We got names yet?”
“Not yet, but my grandchildren are of both mothers, they say, so we will not specify who gave birth to which child. Please honour that request”
Dial…
“Samir Patel! Hi, girl. Can I assume you have news?”
“Yup! Going to ask if you can put out a team message. Two fat ladies are no longer fat. No issues—well, two issues, actually, and those are one boy and one girl”
“Magic, mate! You been in to see them?”
“Not yet, Sammy. There will be all sorts of procedures going on, and trust me, all those two will be after doing is sleeping. It’s hard bloody work!”
“Right. Team mail drafted… Ah. Want me to let her boss know?”
“Please! Oh, and Dai Gould would be good; he can cascade it. I have some others to ring”
“Consider it done. When are you back? Oh, sorry. That was rude. Take whatever time you need, and just let us know, OK?”
“Thanks, Sammy”
“Any time. And make sure they get our best wishes, girl”
“Wilco”
Hang up, redial.
“This is Chris. I’m out at the moment, well, I’m always out, but you know what I mean! Leave a message!”
Down the mental list, so many of them needing a message left, and then sod it. Jim had the food ready, Blake and Twm were on their way back, and Tony’s tears had stopped.
I watched him eat, fascinated by his ability to chew and swallow without ever losing his grin. Later, in bed, I wept on my own man. I have no idea why, but it seemed absolutely right to do so.
CHAPTER 53
It was an awkward time for a few days. It wasn’t that Elaine’s family made Blake and me feel unwelcome, though. Far from it: we were enfolded in their family like something out of a bad Star Trek film. Twm had returned much later than Eric, and Sarah simply ignored him when he claimed not to be hungry, making a small dent in our breakfast supplies. I conveyed the news to my own mother after Twm had played proud grandfather. He had been adamant.
“Sioned has told you our agreement, and that is two mothers, no special ownership of either child. They are Sioned Angharad Sarah Powell and Anthony Twm Kevin Powell. Siân said that all of the names are family names. ALL of them, and Sarah, you are to let Victoria know the news”
Sar asked the obvious question: why Victoria and not Kevin herself? Twm just grinned.
“Your sister-in-law-and-in-reality said to me that if we spoke to Kevin, rational conversation would cease immediately. I know it is late, but please. And we have enough for the morning?”
I stepped out into the night to ring Mam, just to make sure my own boy was still safe, of course.
“How is he?”
“Asleep, love, but he’s fine. Wants to know when you’ll be back”
“Ah. Not sure about that. Still stuff to do”
“And how are the important people?”
“Um. Sorry. Two healthy children, Mam, and both mothers doing well”
“Thank God! Details, girl! Details!”
“Not got the weights, Mam, but a boy and a girl. Twm--- Lainey’s Dad--- says all ten toes and fingers and that. He went in for one of the births. Blake did the other”
Mam laughed happily.
“Dad and me were right about that boy, weren’t we? One of the good ones, that is what we said, and we were right”
“Well, I think so. I did have one little problem, though”
“In what way?”
“Someone else was here when Blake and I arrived. Remember me talking about Annie Price? Well, she was here with her husband”
“Awkward?”
“Not now. Can you understand she makes far more sense now?”
Mam chuckled.
“Another of the good ones, love?”
“Absolutely, Mam! Makes me realise how lucky I have been, even with, you know”
“I do know, love. Just remember that you make your own luck. So give our best to your friends, and we will see you when you get back”
I stood for a while in silence after she went, counting so many blessings I got lost halfway through, before re-joining so many of ‘the good ones’.
The morning brought the promised camper van, which wasn’t as big as I had expecteded, and with it a couple in their late middle age, one of whom I immediately recognised. He made a point of walking straight up to Blake, shaking his hand firmly, and then peered at me before breaking into a grin.
“No longer blonde, then? Any problems with that idiot flute-player?”
Everything he did was accompanied by a twinkle, and as he was hit by Jim’s flying hug he started to rumble out a laugh.
“In the door first, boy! And what news? And where’s the dog?”
Tony had emerged behind his son, reaching past the lad for a handshake of his own.
“Simple news, Arwel: Anthony Twm Kevin and Sioned Angharad Sarah. All four people doing well”
Arwel’s eyes narrowed just a little, and something frightening started to uncoil behind his eyes.
“Angharad?”
Tony nodded.
“Our sisters say that their daughter will know her family, and that family remain exactly that”
Tony barked out his own laugh, an utterly mirthless sound, as frightening as Arwel’s glare.
“They drew the line at Carwyn”
Arwel simply showed his teeth.
“The only line needed there is enough bloody rope and a sharp drop to go with it. Dim ots. You have enough for breakfast?”
Sarah flashed me a ‘what did I tell you?’ look, and then dragged everyone indoors, where Sioned, naturally, had the kettle coming to a boil. A large pot of soup she had somehow conjured up was simmering on the hob, and suet and flour were standing on the worktop ready for use. My own mother-skills clearly had a long way to go in their development.
We had a slow, quiet day, Sioned and Arwel’s wife Alice working over the house from top to bottom as Arwel and Tom assembled two combined prams/cots that had somehow managed to squeeze into Arwel’s van despite the presence of rather a lot of beer, which ended up in the garage. Cards were arriving, as well as bunches of flowers, and the ‘parental’ bedroom began to feel crowded. The final touch came that evening, when Eric took a phone call, clearly having made himself at home, and beamed round the room.
“Girls will be released tomorrow afternoon! Who wants to drive?”
Blake looked over at the new grandfather.
“Take one each, Twm? Or rather, two each? Those carry-cot things are designed to strap in, so we can keep them away from air bags”
It made sense, and when the two men departed, I was cajoled into heading back to the supermarket with Eric and Annie in order to corner their stocks of disposable nappies, baby wipes, sterilising tablets and so on. Tony, grin still in place, suggested buying a garden shed to store it all in, but once more, the garage came in handy. Nappies, wet-wipes and beer: there were the makings of a very odd joke just then. Tony found another photo album for us as the boys left for the hospital, and it was a classic, divided neatly between more photos of a manic dog, Stephanie Woodruff with a violin and the light of utter insanity in her eyes, and a selection of Annie and Elaine’s friends in various poses, some of them almost as disturbing. Towards the middle of the book, however, there were others, and I recognised the backdrop immediately.
“Buck House, Annie?”
“Yes indeed! Got a gong for that stuff with Dennis. Hang on… Eric! Got the laptop?”
He passed over a battered Dell, and plugged the power lead in for us, as we were lying back in the sofa in BFF mode once again. Annie got logged on, and opened her (their?) photo folder.
“Right, girl. Those are obviously prints from the files I sent Elaine, but…. Right. I keep some of these pictures purely for historical reasons, aye? This one is from a couple of years before we got married”
I bit my tongue immediately, not needing to ask which wedding she meant, and it was a good job I had said tongue restrained.
“Ginny dragged me out on a zombocalypse ride--- silly overnight camping trip, supposedly practice to escape the zombie hordes. I think this came from our friend Fee”
Dark hair. The same eyes, and a flute I remembered held to lips surrounded by a heavy beard. A hint of reflection from the cheeks that I guessed meant tears, and a paunch that made the musician look like Buddha after a hair transplant.
“Shit!”
“Shit indeed, girl. That was me. Told you I got fat, aye?”
“Yeah, but…”
“I keep it as a focus. If I ever have a run of bad times, it’s there to show me I can, will, come out the other side. Now, compare it with the Palace shots. Lost a lot of weight by then I had. And…”
She turned to grin at me.
“Now, these ones you will have to understand are what I think of as our honeymoon, even though it was well before the wedding. This is Penang, off the coast of Malaysia. We had been in Thailand, and no, you don’t need to ask why. Couldn’t go in the water, though”
There was nothing whatsoever to deny Annie’s gender, mainly because if there had been, the bikini she was wearing wouldn’t have had room for it. I freely admit I stared.
“Bloody hell, love! How much weight did you lose. No! Stop! I am not getting any stupid jokes about ‘a couple of stones’!”
She preened.
“I ended up losing nearly ten stone, Di. Hard at first, but I had an incentive. I wanted to be able to get into nice stuff for that man over there---ooh, Eric! Blushing, is it?”
He was pink, and after stammering something about leaving before the punchline, he was off into the kitchen just as the reason occurred to me.
“Let me guess, Annie: something about getting you OUT of nice things?”
Once again, I got that impish smile and a burst of happy laughter, just as the front door banged and four new arrivals were introduced to the room.
I was slightly disappointed at the look of relief on Elaine’s face when she spotted how I was curled up with Annie. Didn’t she trust us?
CHAPTER 54
Both women looked drained, and Elaine was still giving little flickers of confusion to my Police, Professional eye. I remembered her apparent obsession with ‘three suspects’ when we were dangling poor Chris in front of that gang, and I flashed a glance at Sioned, who gave the slightest of headshakes.
It hit me like a ton of bricks just then, and I had to disguise my tears with praise for the two little bundles. Blake could obviously sense something from me, so he took my hand as I murmured “Later, love” before standing up to see the new additions to Elaine’s family. They were both following the tradition that demands that rather than looking like their parents, either or both, they resemble more closely a certain wartime Prime Minister, just without the cigar or the rude hand signal. With an eyebrow raise, Siân handed me her little responsibility, and I was as lost as I had been when I first held my own little boy. I smiled at her, and she nodded her head towards her brother-in-law, who was, with no shame at all, sobbing as he held the other child, his older son cuddled round him from behind.
So much damage in one family. That was my lesson de jour, my realisation once more of the good fortune that seemed to follow me around like a puppy, as well as the simple fact of ripples. What had been done to me had been to others, and not just the women and girls who had stood with me in court to stare down that piece of shit. My own parents had hidden their pain from me for years, for one example close to home, and I remembered Peter and Ben up in Southport.
Ripples. So many people got splashed, and not with clean water. I looked at Sarah as she smiled in utter devotion as her man held his child, and even though I hardly knew him, my own heart nearly burst with a surge of utter love for the man who had pulled so many people back from the edge. So very many of ‘The Good Ones’ had come into my life. Sioned broke the mood.
“There will be tea and cake later, and Arwel and Alice are On A Mission!”
I decided to try and break some of the tension that lingered in Elaine’s face and forearms, so settled back down with Annie.
“It’s been very interesting, Lainey. Once we got past the what the fuck stage—er, I suppose I should start watching my language now. Little ears, isn’t it?”
I turned my head and, frankly, stared at Annie as she made noises like some teenage girl. All she would have needed to complete the image would have been her hand over her mouth. She fought down her giggles, took a deep breath and tried again.
“I think these two might be a bit young to worry about language just now, but, well, Lainey? Remember Ginny?”
Inspector Powell’s tension started to evaporate, and she took her child into a loving embrace as she sank into an armchair with obvious relief. All of a sudden that grin was back on her face, and I saw how P, P Annie still was as Elaine dropped herself right into it.
“How’s it go? Fuck, yeah? Sorry, Mam!”
Annie nodded, then turned to me.
“Friend of mine, Di. Bit larger than life!”
Siân guffawed, then winced.
“A bit? Ooh, mustn’t do that, bloody stitches”
Elaine reached out for her hand as Tony pushed another chair next to Elaine’s.
“Aye, very much larger, that is, Annie. And?”
I revised my opinion of Annie’s professional poker face downwards, because just them she was losing it.
“She and her wife adopted a young girl, Di, and the first time Ginny got excited, she almost strangled herself. ‘Fuh—lip yeah’, it was! All the habits of a lifetime’s insanity had to be tied down and sedated”
Sioned’s own stoneface had eroded badly
“Little ears may not be old enough, but these ears are. Now, Elaine: what are you going to do about your mother in law?”
That one clearly came with a whole trainload of freight, and I saw meaningful looks flashing round the room. Once more, Blake squeezed my hand with an unspoken promise of ‘later’. Elaine sat up a little straighter.
“She deserves to see her grandchildren, and before you say it, yes. They will both be her grandchildren. She is what she is, but I married her daughter, and family is family. We know that, here, in our family. Look at how many are here, look how strong we are together. All I want to do is clear it with the other two people involved first”
Sioned looked across to Tony and Sarah, nodding.
“You are right, Elaine. They are as much one as you two are. I see I brought up no stupid children”
I couldn’t resist, and gave the room my best combination Mam and Paddington Stare, and then Annie started that noise again, and I corpse. I was back in Saffron’s bedroom as we did our worst, if not actually THE worst, Clouseau impressions. Annie found her composure before I could.
“Elaine, we’ve done quite a bit of talking, the two of us, once we got past, as Di put it, the double-you tee eff stage. A lot to share, aye? And then she was telling me all about that unit you set up. Very well done, Inspector”
Thank, you woman, I thought, before realising how naturally that now came to me.
“Got a lot of work on now, Lainey. Can’t share details, naturally, but they’ve got us another string to our fiddle. Not just the cold case stuff we did but more of the sort of sub-NCA stuff. National Crime Agency, Sioned. We are picking up some of the nasty organised stuff that isn’t quite big enough to rattle the politician’s cages. Done quite a bit with HMRC and Trading Standards, especially round Christmas. Nothing changes there, isn’t it?”
My husband leapt up at the sound of the front door, rushing into the kitchen, and I understood why once Arwel and Allice brought the smell of fish and chips with them into the living room. Blake called back to us all.
“Bread and butter are on their way, boys and girls!”
Ice broken, subject shifted away from risky areas, the only downside being the need to explain the joke to those who didn’t know Chris. I snuggled into Blake that night, trying to get the day’s events into some sort of order while I was conscious, rather than leaving my dreams to make a dog’s dinner of it all. He murmured into my ear.
“What was your niggle, love?”
I sighed, looking for the right words.
“Lainey, love. Not so sure she’s back with us. She was losing it when we were following Chris, and I don’t think she’s quite back on song”
“Aye. I spotted that. All that stuff about ‘three suspects’. It’s odd, you know. I think her sister is more like you than Elaine. I mean, Sarah is more like you than she is like Lainey. You both got the nasty, but both of you have coped, in the end”
“Strong people round us, love. Makes it easy”
“Aye, maybe. But sometimes it’s not so easy for what you call the strong ones. I think Elaine’s a bit like your Dad”
“My Dad?”
He pulled me closer to him, just a squeeze, just to let me know he was there.
“Yeah. Mark didn’t cope at all well, love. Really felt he had failed you, and don’t go telling him I said that. Took a lot to get him back on song”
“Yeah, well, you did that”
“Um, yes. I suppose I did, a bit of it. Anyway, Lainey’s a bit that way towards her sister. There’s other stuff too”
He sighed, and there was a shudder underneath the long breath.
“You missed a lot of the stuff about Lainey, Di. The trial…”
He paused for a few seconds, tightening the arm he had around me once more.
“Siân’s mother is a cow, but her Dad, dear god. I sat through that stuff up in Caernarvon, and all I could think of is what you and Jonny Boy had to sit and listen to. Enough on that one, aye? I am just astonished at how Siân herself turned out so tidy. Can’t have been easy, especially the way she is. Anyway, over and done now. You and Annie? All sorted?”
I squeezed him back.
“Yeah, I think so. I mean, what we saw in that café, that was nothing. You sit with her for ten minutes, and it’s all so right, so HER, isn’t it? How did I not see that when she was working right next to me?”
He chuckled.
“What was that phrase? That would have worked HOW, exactly. Besides which, neither of you are gay, as far as I can see…”
Our conversation became somewhat derailed at that point.
The next day was a busy one, as some of us slaved away in the kitchen preparing a vast quantity of Full Welsh before yet another attack on the supermarket for all of those things we had either forgotten or had not realised we actually needed. To my surprise, Arwel and Alice made their apologies after lunch and set off back to their own home, Alice slapping his arm as he explained how little he trusted his son with the business. Arwel amused me, all smiles and teasing as he hugged each woman goodbye, but the absolute epitome of Stern Masculinity for each manly farewell. There remained a twinkle of delight in his eyes though, especially when he looked over towards the two new arrivals.
No sooner was he gone when even more people arrived. There was a car fitting into the space Arwel had vacated, and behind it a bloody great motorcycle marked ‘Moto Guzzi’, which looked small next to its rider, who was immense. I looked across at my husband, and there wasn’t that much in it, to be honest, but the new arrival simply exuded a sense of size and weight.
The car held two girls, a young lad and a comfortably-plump dark-haired woman of around Sarah’s age. There were embraces all round, including, to my astonishment, a rather warm one between young Jim and one of the teenager girls. Sarah called over their heads in introduction.
“Di and Blake Sutton, they work with Big Sis, aye? And this is Steve, Arris, Stevie, Ali and Suzy Barraclough. Two of my oldest friends and their brood. Jim! Wash your face afterwards, son”
That made him blush, but he was still grinning and giving no sign of moving away from the girl he was wrapped up with. The man laughed, a rich deep sound, as he pulled his helmet off, and I had a little moment of ‘oh shit’.
Well over six feet tall, long blond hair just starting to show some grey, and a drooping moustache. Two things hit me at once, two memories.
Joe Evans, short of a testicle, jumping at every noise from the interview room door, pissing down his own leg at the Custody desk.
Ellen describing the death of her own nephew. Devon Barraclough. Hell, it was a common enough surname, but not in South Wales. Joe Evans had upset Sarah, and then received a serious kicking from someone very, very big, and from what I had picked up through the grapevine, he had described his attacker as having a blond moustache.
The giant grinned as he shook my hand, and as I watched the joy in Elaine’s face shining out at him, I made a firm promise to myself.
I had no need to know anything else about their past, other than how well they loved my friends.
CHAPTER 55
There was no real reason to spend any more time with Elaine, and despite the fact that the Barracloughs had followed Annie’s lead in setting up a raft of tents in the back garden, the house was absolutely groaning at the seams. Blake and I still had our responsibilities to paid employment to fulfil, and to be honest, the more I watched Elaine and Siân locking soppy eyes with their children, the more I missed my own boy.
I even missed the bloody cat, of all things. While I would never want to wake up without my husband beside me, there was the extra delight of a purring lump headbutting me in a not-so-subtle hint that his breakfast might be served.
I could, however, live without his winter habit of slipping beneath our duvet and sticking four freezing pads against my naked back, the little ginger sod.
So we packed our bags, said goodbye to the Powells and Halls and Barracloughs, and I then spent rather a long time swapping close bodily contact with the Johnsons.
I couldn’t help it. The more I saw of Annie as opposed to Adam, the more Right she became to me, and just as I had warmed to Adam, I clicked with ‘his’ reality as a woman. My feelings for Eric had started out as appreciation for his support of my old friend, but the more I saw of him, the more I saw of the man himself as opposed to him as an accessory to Annie, the more I saw a man worth knowing.
It wasn’t just his devotion to his wife, but the unthinking way he gave of himself when needed. Mam’s words were there, as ever: one of the good ones. He got a solid hug as we left, along with some Words of Advice about looking after her. Well, I had to keep my reputation as a Hard-Bitten Copper up, didn’t I?
I really doubt he was fooled.
So, there we were, rolling along the M4 towards our own place, and of course I got the full session from DC Sutton, B.
“Stuff you can talk about, love, or not?”
“What do you mean?”
“In short? Lot of time spent with Eric, saying goodbye”
“Yeah, well, good bloke”
“And Steve. With the Moto Guzzi”
“Ah”
“Di, love?”
“Yes, love?”
“Keep that word in mind, aye? You do know I love you, don’t you?”
“Bloody hell yes, my darling!”
“Well, that means I can keep my mouth shut. What is it…”
He stopped speaking for a moment, as his usual smooth driving took us past a Norbert Dentressangle lorry and back into the left-hand lane. When he spoke once more, his voice was so soft I had to strain to hear him.
“Joe Evans, love. That was the beater. Description, motive, opportunity, fuck’s sake, we do what we are bloody supposed to, REQUIRED to, and he is toast, him and his whole family. Are we doing that?”
I started to waffle, and he cut me off.
“No, love. I have heard you when you mutter, aye? ‘Police, professional’. Is that where we are?”
I tried again, and once more he closed me down.
“No. I know what your answer is, and mine is the same, so we leave it there, but there’s still a question to answer, and don’t look at me like that. You chose to marry a copper, what did you expect?”
That time I found my voice.
“What question, love?”
“Your reaction was in two parts. You saw him, and I watched you go ‘Oh fuck, Joe Evans’. Then you did another leak, when you heard his name. What’s that about?”
Shit. I sat silently for a few seconds while Blake, true to his way, waited patiently for me to speak. I weighed it over, and then simply saw Eric before me. Shared, everything. With a silent apology to Ellen, I began.
“Someone I know, love. In short, same sort of grooming nastiness that got Paula shot, same sort of drug-dealing. Someone lost a family member, the shooter died later of an OD”
“Surname Barraclough?”
I swallowed the ashes in my throat, with some difficulty.
“Yes”
“Then that’s enough. Being a junky or a nonce isn’t bloody genetic, you know”
I started to giggle.
“I offer you the Evans family, m’Lud!”
He snorted.
“Oh, fuck off, in the nicest possible way! No. Matter closed. You know what?”
“What?”
“Pig and his old lady. We’re talking about class, aren’t we? Not some old bullshit about honour and that, but proper right, wrong and being there for mates, so we agree, aye? Leave it to settle, and buy Steve a beer when we can”
I nodded, but his eyes were, as ever, on the road. I sorted my words.
“Love?”
“Aye?”
“Just thinking, isn’t it? The name. That family Jon and I met, the Dad was called Steve. Obsessed bastard, but such a loving father. So much shit in his life, but there he was, devoted as all hell to his family. Is it something about that name?”
For once, I got a sideways flick of his eyes, and a grin.
“Na. Can’t be. Your Dad’s called Mark!”
He was driving. I had to wait until we were parked outside Mam and Dad’s before I gave him the snog he deserved.
I had rung ahead, so along with the shouts of “Mam! Mam!” we got a decent cuppa along with the grilling. Just as Mam was hitting her stride, demanding eye colour (aren’t they all blue?) and birth weight, Blake held up his hands, one of which held a Welsh cake.
“Enough, Dot! Two happy mothers, two healthy kids, and more friends and family around them than their house can cope with. And yes: Annie and this one hit it off, and everyone’s happy, and Stuff!”
He then dropped his arms, and with the free hand reached across to take my mother’s.
“And, as always, thank you for being you, and for always being there when we need you. Now, we will sup up, collar the two wild beasts and get off home. I think I would like to remind Rhodri Adam Sutton where his home is, and hopefully life will calm down a bit for us all”
Dad was chuckling.
“Taken as it was meant, son! Oh, and he has new wellies. The old ones were a bit small, and we’ve had rain, and there were puddles, and there are traditions to be upheld”
I watched my husband’s face as my father said that word. There was no twitch, no more than there would have been if he had been driving, but I still knew. Stuff Police, Professional: this was Wife, Loving.
Back home, the usual basic shopping put away and all corners sniffed for intruders, and that was just by Rhod, as our own kettle heated. Blake brought our bags in while I began the task of stripping and making the beds. The linen would feel so much nicer fresh than stale, and with that thought I realised I was turning into my mother. Rhod wanted to help, which actually worked with the fitted sheets we used rather than having to do hospital corners, although he still tried to fold the things about. In the end, after I made it a ‘stretching game’, we got the paterfamilias up to do the duvet covers. That was, of course, purely because of the length of his arms and not because I was fed up with finding myself standing inside the duvet cover without the quilt itself.
Small person delivered to nursery in the morning, we made our return to our other home, Blake entrusted with a memory stick and encumbered with a carrier bag full of cakes. Absence from work comes at a price, and we were determined to avoid the secondary penalty of incessant nagging that would have descended on us without such preparation. Candice, naturally, was first to spot us.
“Oh look what the cat dragged in!”
Blake set his load down by the urn.
“Cat’s at home. Not up to dragging; tired and shagged out after a long miaow. This is all shop-bought as well. Not up to Gemma’s standards, but take it or leave it”
He eased his comments by wrapping her in a huge hug, as she giggled happily.
“Urn is hot, you two. Sammy’s in late today, car problem, so save the details till we’re all in? Don’t want to be bored by you twice”
We were most definitely home.
Sammy was in an hour later, dirt under his fingernails from whatever he had been forced to do with his car, and the grin we received was entirely non-feral. Jon busied himself slicing cake, but only after checking his phone several times. I understood that hesitation only when Lexie walked in, a scarf knotted around her head but a grin as wide as Sammy’s beneath it. Blake nodded to me, and held up his memory stick. He had already fired up the Death By Powerpoint projector.
“Boys and girls!”
Pause for the laughter that inevitably followed.
“I have here some pictures of two little people, as well as of a few larger ones. I did two copies on a couple of these widgets; this one can stay in our team files, so we can remember what this job is about and who we do it for, and we don’t just mean Elaine. Now…”
He started our slide show, and the happy cooing sounds were not restricted to the women,
“We have two new recruits here. This one is Anthony Kevin Twm, and this one… This one is Sioned Angharad Sarah”
Ellen called out the first question.
“Which one is Lainey’s?”
Blake just shook his head, grinning.
“Both of them, mate, and both are Siân’s too, and that is all anyone needs to know”
There was a little muttering at that, but I noticed that Ellen’s own response was a single firm nod. She knew our old boss as well as anyone on the team, and I suspect she had already known the answer when she asked her question. Blake continued through the pictures, introducing Lainey’s parents, sister, uncle and so on and then running back over some of the pictures, particularly of the New People. Cake was eaten, tea was drunk, and then he held up his hands for attention and silence.
“Now, before I show these next pictures, I need to ask a question or two. Who remembers TC Adam Price?”
Only three hands went up, and Blake nodded.
“OK. Now, who remembers that bombing recently, over in Crawley? One of our own badly injured in it?”
Every hand up this time, and my man paused for a few seconds as he clearly pondered his next words.
“Who is aware of the link between Adam and that bombing?”
The team were whispering and exchanging glances and nods at that one, before every hand went up. Alun acted as spokesman.
“I think we all do, Blake. Transition they call it, isn’t it? Adam is now Annie? I mean, we could hardly miss that one, what with the bloody tabloids trying to fuck him… her over. Hell, all she did was what we’d all hope would be our reaction, isn’t it?”
He looked around the room, eyes lingering on Lexie, then shrugged.
“It’s what the Job is. If you are an honest copper, you run towards, not away, and all you’re thinking is, well, shit, how much is this one going to hurt?”
Suddenly, his gaze went to me, then back to the picture on screen, where Lainey was sitting in an armchair with little Anthony held to her breast.
“Except, that is, if you are called Sutton or Powell, and then the question is ‘how much is this going to hurt someone else?’, if you take my meaning!”
That brought the tension-easing laughter, and then he waved at the screen.
“I remember Adam. They were always someone to run towards the nastiness, and it nearly killed them. From what I can find out, for I always have my sources, they weren’t doing that well in England. I don’t think that’s true now, is it, Di? That’s the point here. She was at Elaine’s place, wasn’t she? Bloody pronouns are getting complicated. He, they, she…”
He shook his head, then stared at me again.
“I am going to fly a kite here, girl. Most of the nick knew you had the hots for Adam-as-was. I have been watching your tells, and they look relaxed, so I am going to leave it at one question. Is she happy?”
Blake chuckled.
“See for yourself, mate!”
He clicked through a couple of shots, neither of which showed Annie alone, making the sneaky comment “As you can see, she likes cuddling up to married people. Those are my wife, and her husband”
He got the laughter, but Alun’s smile dropped. His next question showed me how deep he was, how little I really knew him.
“So she’s straight, then. That man: is he a decent sort, or will there need to be words at some point?”
The whole team fixed him in place with their stares, and he turned to check the door.
“Some of you know what she went through as a Traffic Officer. I know you do, Di, because you were always popping into the hospital after she got rammed. What you don’t know, and what I am not telling you, is what my old boss Harry let slip, so this is to stay in this room, aye? Aye?”
He got the nods, and his mouth twisted.
“We are lucky here, on this team, and sometimes we forget it. Sammy, not swelling your head, isn’t it, but we had Lainey, and she is a proper leader, and when she had to step down, I was really worried about who would slide into her seat. You? You would have been my first choice, but there were others…
“Lainey was at one of Adam’s, Annie’s, worst incidents. It was just before he got his… Shit. I am not doing this right. It was just before Annie got her sergeant’s, and Elaine was at the site. I read her statement for the investigation, and it was a real horror show. Mother survived, baby in the middle of the road, still in its seat. Right through the fucking windscreen, right past Mummy’s head. That is what Annie had to deal with, what Elaine saw”
He turned his stare onto me.
“Barry and Bryn were at that one as well, love. They won’t talk about it. Adam, Annie, she sorted out what was needed, held it together till the back-up arrived, ambulance, fire crew, then lost it. Barry says it was lid off, bum on Armco, and tears. We had some jumped-up little fast-stream wanker at the time, and he set up a file on Annie. Wanted them out. A successful disciplinary to look good in his CV. Lack of moral fibre or some other bollocks, and that is what I meant about running towards things rather than away”
A swallow of his tea that clearly hurt him.
“He set up a file, and gave my old boss the job of checking the t’s and I’s, and Harry showed it to me before telling the twat to fuck off and die. I spoke to B and B about it, stuff confidentiality with shit like that, and I suspect one or both of them might have had their own private chat with the turd. Moved off to Avon and Somerset after that, and Harry burned the file. I watched him do it”
Eyes back to Blake.
“So, from what I can gather, our old friend runs barefoot over broken glass towards bombs. This husband of hers better be worth her”
My own husband just smiled, but there was softness and warmth in it.
“Eric is, mate. He most definitely is”
CHAPTER 56
Alun went over to our little kitchen area, adding a little more milk to his tea, and I gave a quick glance around the team before joining him.
“Thanks, Alun”
“What for?”
“Watching her back over here”
He chuckled.
“Wasn’t the only one doing that, was I? Popular, was our Adam. It’s part of what I said about proper policing, isn’t it? You work next to someone like that, makes you want to pick up your own game, try and live up to them. Trouble comes when they set that bar too high”
I gave him a one-armed hug, feeling his tiredness rather than seeing it.
“Lynne OK?”
I could feel him sag.
“Not really, mate. CFS playing up something rotten. Take her to do the big shop, and she ends up sitting in the café while I do the rounds and check with her by phone. ‘Got no white bogroll, shall I get yellow?’ sort of thing. Gets me some weird looks, I can tell you”
“Well, you know we’re always around if you need us, Alun”
He turned to look me squarely in the eyes, head lifting from the pretence of watching his tea steam.
“I know, love. We all do, and I know you’ll all be there if and when, aye? It’ll get better. Comes in whatchamacallits, waves. Almost like that SAD thing, seasonal. Isn’t anything like that; it’s just that she has periods of being weaker than other times. She’ll perk up. Get her out for a curry again, that’ll do it!”
He turned away, breaking the hug as gently as he could, and I left him to his pride.
Work slowed down after that. I wasn’t complaining, for I really didn’t fancy another encounter with someone like Pig, and the likes of Charlie Cooper were certainly not on my Christmas list. Sammy had a series of cases for us to look through, filed as per Chris’s categories, and while most were Home Turf, a sizeable proportion were from Forn Parts. I noticed that our boss was moving the ‘fresh meat’ around as its ‘freshness wore off, and it was clearly for mentoring. We each had our own strengths, my own being that odd fascination with detail that sometimes left me wondering about Asperger’s, and having Lexie sitting with me while I worked my detail-fu would perhaps rub off.
Cooper’s name did surface, though, as the other investigation continued. We were locked out, perhaps from a desire to allow the other force to garner some kudos of their own, but the results were unsurprising. Meadowcroft Hall may not have been quite as foul as either Mersey View or Castle Keep, but Cooper had clearly been working hard at it. He picked up another couple of nested life sentences for it, and after it was over, I sat with my own child and watched cartoons and ate chocolate biscuits as I held him as close and tight as I could manage without frightening him.
It was better, though, than it would have been. Anyone who ever touched our boy would have found their life expectancy evaporating, and his laughter as he grew let me see what Deb and the others had lost, but his presence also eased my fears. Deb had had nobody, and Steve Elliott had been cut off from his own people, but Rhod had at least two generations of our family to watch over him, as well as a team of which I was so proud it hurt.
So I held my boy, ate too many of the biscuits, and tried not to squeeze him too tightly.
Motherhood brought so many changes, including spending afternoons with other mothers and their offspring, but as those were all too often some lesbians from Carmarthen and their brats, it was almost like being in the office.
All three infants were forming their own personalities, and Rhod in particular was quickly past ‘Mam! Mam! Mam!’ and using what were for a long time his two favourite words, ‘Want’ and ‘No’. Elaine and Siân’s quickly became Little Tone, or LT, and Sassie. I found myself treated to more than a few Mam-stares when I tried to give the other two mothers bits of advice based on my own much greater experience as a mother, but the sods just laughed at me before Elaine pointed out that they had already been over-advised by Sioned.
That was a golden time, made so much better by the return of my old friend Lainey from the edge she had been staring over. Siân summed it up one evening when we were having an overnight visit to theirs, all three children bedded down together on camping mats as Lainey did things in the kitchen.
“It wasn’t good, Di. My sweet woman always puts so much of herself into her work, aye? And she is always at work, even with the family. Protective, she is, and she can’t let go. You’ve met Sar. What do you think?”
I looked at her, trying to work out a safe reply.
“Um… Hard woman. I mean, she’s obviously a bloody good mother and that, but I would really hate to get on her wrong side”
Siân nodded, but there was a wistfulness in her eyes.
“Yes. That is what most people see, or what they see now, ah? They are sisters, Di. So much alike. Joe Evans nearly broke Sarah. She ran away immediately after our wedding, and though she smiled and laughed and danced like a mad thing, she was hollow. All face and no substance. My own sweet one is just the same, and to be honest I think it all comes down to that one bastard, him and his family. We all said it, didn’t we? Pushing so hard at a locked door, and then it opens, and you stumble, and if there’s nobody there, well, flat on your face, isn’t it? But strong arms to catch her, stronger ones to hold her…”
She grinned at me.
“No, Diane. Not just my arms, but all of us. Her parents, Arwel, Sarah’s two men, you two. I was thinking last night, about curses and blessings. That Chinese one?”
“May you live in interesting times?”
“Yes! Well, we have, haven’t we? All of us? But we have had those arms, that support. Sar forgot about that fact for too long, but she knows now, and that’s the thing about living through the interesting bits. You understand, in the end, if you survive, but you need someone to survive them for”
I automatically glanced towards the open door to the dining room, where three smaller persons were spark out in a nest of warm covers, and Siân smiled once more.
“Yes. Family and friends are just about enough, but, well, you are also a Mam. You know these things. My… No. Some people, let me say, and leave it at that, some people don’t find that out until almost too late. Now, important things: this year, are we to take all of our children somewhere warmer?”
Elaine had clearly been listening to the last part, and when she re-entered the living-room she held a bundle of Greek villa brochures and wore an evil grin. Assimilated!
A golden time in so many ways, and the promise of a future for all of us splashing in the edge of the sea or running along the sand screaming so loudly the gulls stared. Kindergarten. That first day of infant school, when I had to force myself to turn away from the little man I was betraying and abandoning to the hands of strangers.
And work. Occasionally something new, something different, but buried under slush piles of the mundane. I recalled that curse, and even though I knew better, I quietly prayed for some ‘interesting times’.
“Gather round, mates!”
Sammy looked almost cheerful that morning, perhaps even a little excited. He was carrying a briefing folder, and as his smile slowly drifted from ‘happy’ into ‘feral’, I found my own pulse speeding up. Please god, no Pig or Charlie clones, but something more interesting than how the contracts for an English town’s no-longer-new bypass road had been awarded.
He waved the folder.
“Local one this time, very much HT. This is one that CID should have picked up, but they are short-handed just now, or so I told them”
Jon laughed out loud at that remark, as he was clearly up to speed with Sammy’s ways of rephrasing reality.
“You grabbed off the DI’s desk or something?”
Our boss’s grin was almost manic.
“I may have done! Now, here’s the SP. We have a couple of unlicensed drinking dens, one in particular. Oh, Ellen? Could you check the door for me? Lock it. Our ears only for now”
Once we were secure, he settled himself on the edge of a desk, eyes twinkling.
“This could be a messy one, and it will definitely be a multi-agency job again. No, Jon. Not more fucking helicopters”
My boy held up his hand.
“Please sir, I didn’t say ‘fucking’, not at all”
Sammy was back to his old self with a vengeance.
2You may not have said it, Jonny Boy, but I definitely heard you THINK it! No, not whirly birds this time, but it will involve a lot of sitting in cars. We need to do a lot od staging, and it’s going to be stationary stuff. There’s a bit of humint on this one, but not much, and there is fuck-all in the way of CCTV where we would want it, or at least footage that isn’t owned by the targets. Place is a bit of a fort, apparently”
I looked across at Blake, who was clearly hooked, and then asked the obvious question.
“So, oh mighty one with the happy grin, what makes this one so messy? Surely a bit of a stag, time it right, and then in with a Forced Entry Team and lots of coppers?”
Sammy’s grin faltered slightly, a little bit of distaste showing.
“Drinking’s only one part of the business, Di. Our source tells us there’s a pit in there. Might be cockerels, but he is saying it’s a dog pit”
CHAPTER 57
I felt slightly nauseous just then. I wasn’t like some women, obsessed with animal welfare to the exclusion of the people around them, but we had a cat, my men and I, and he was part of the family. Even though I hadn’t had pets before, the presence of Fritz felt utterly natural to me. The idea of using a pet animal to prove how big a dick you had disturbed me, and if this was dogs rather than that other type of cock, it could turn out a really shitty case.
Sammy continued with his briefing.
“It is fairly local, mates, up to Merthyr, in an industrial unit. The primary site is like a fort, but they have skimped a little on their security. Our source tells us it’s security railings rather than shuttering or walls, so we can see the outside of the building and whatever’s in the yard. That is part one of the job, clocking who and what is going in and out.
“Their source of alcohol is absolutely non-legit and is believed to be sourced in the Maidstone area. My own views on that are that Maidstone acts as a depot, and we are talking warehouses in Calais as the origin. Blake?”
“Yes?”
“Could you have a word with your bro, on the QT. See what we can get from Dover or Folkestone. No details to him, please. Just an idea of available resource. I will be speaking to Chris up to Swansea, as ever. The problem will be that if these are the sort of traders I suspect they are, their registration details will be rather out of date. Along with tax, MoT, insurance, all the rest, but if we can get a few numbers we can use the tolls and the ANPR there to track them. Any questions?”
Ellen stuck her hand up.
“What clues are there that it’s dogs they’re fighting?”
Sammy winced, clearly finding something in his mouth distasteful, and took a swig of tea.
“I have avoided this so far… Sorry, all. Landfill site was being levelled, and a tractor driver found a number of carcasses, dead dogs. Reported them to his boss, Environmental wotsit had a look, and realised what they had for once. What was left of the dogs was recovered, and the injuries are consistent with bites from other dogs. I will not be including photos in the brief, but I have seen them”
He actually shuddered before continuing.
“This is likely to be a long job, and I am applying some rules to it, especially with the married couples here”
Alun’s hand went up.
“Only one married couple here, boss! I leave my ball and chain at home!”
It was Lexie laughing now.
“Let me guess, Sammy: Blake and Di, Rhys and Jonny Boy, Ellen and Rob?”
After the laughter died down, Sammy was back to his serious mode.
“There are rules about partners working on the same team, but I have never worried about that crap. What I am concerned about is simpler, and that is family life. Blake and Di have a child, and if this one goes the full term, it will mean real issues with regard to child care and so on. I don’t want them messing up their contact with Rhodri Adam Sutton, nor do I want them distracted by worry he’s OK. I also suspect you’ll all be a little sharper with someone else sitting beside you. I still haven’t forgotten about that job with the Culhwch. And you weren’t even with your husband!”
Rhys almost blushed, the poor boy, while Candice was laughing out loud at him. Sammy switched back to cheeky rather than feral.
“Anyway, I do have some better news. Christmas is coming up far too quickly, and we are having a team do. That wasn’t an invitation, by the way, but an instruction, and it will be at the Smugglers. Chris Connor has already arranged it, and I believe it will be a double celebration. He’s getting engaged”
Once more, Candice cut to the important aspect.
“Yebbut, that’s not fair! Two blokes, isn’t it? No bloody bridesmaids!”
My husband gave Rob an appraising look.
“Don’t know about that, Blondie. I am thinking pink satin… Rob? How high a heel can you walk in?”
The other big man just deadpanned back.
“Well, after those lessons from Marlene, I reckon I can cope with four inches---Jonny, you filthy sod! HEELS, you dirty little…”
I was utterly happy at that moment, my team showing me where I belonged and why I did so, In the end, Sammy arranged a start date for our surveillance, which was to be three days after our team do, and once again my mind lingered on that word.
Chris had never been a formal member of our team. He wasn’t even a copper, to tell the truth, but he was most definitely one of us, and whatever form his wedding would take, we would be lined up there for him. That was amplified when I got the phone call from Carmarthen.
“Hiya, Lainey! What can I do for you?”
“Bed and breakfast, girl. I know it’s cheeky, but what are you doing with your little boy?”
I looked down to the rug, where Rhod was wrapped around a remarkably placid Fritz and exchanging headbutts.
“Um, watching him strangle our cat at the moment”
“No, you silly woman. For the party?”
“Oh! Mam and Dad are coming over to do the child-minder grandparents thing. You coming to the do?”
“Knew him before you did, aye? Just wondering what to do with the twins. Well, you know what I mean”
“Ah! We could fit you in, but it would be camping mats and spare duvets, and I would have to clear it with my parents”
“That would be great, girl. My two are off over England, otherwise I wouldn’t bother you”
I kept my swearing on silent mode, for the sake of my own little pitcher.
“How is sharing a Christmas ‘bothering’, Lainey? And don’t bring a pile of sweets for my boy, OK? You know the way?”
More warmth. More appreciation of my luck.
Mam and Dad were as dependable as ever, and for once I eschewed the ‘housewife and mother’ look I had insisted on when Tammy had visited, for once taking the opportunity to glam up a bit. Mam and Dad were staying over at hours for simplicity, so this ‘housewife and mother’ ended up using the Dad Taxi, which actually warmed my heart. So much water under the bridge, so much nastiness, and the two had stuck by me. I really was so very lucky.
Into the car at our place, three kids glued to some video with Mam, and rather a squeeze on the back seat, then out of it at the Smugglers, with a last whisper of “Not too drunk, love!” and into the bar, which now bore the slogan ‘Definitely the best bar in the world named after a policewoman’ as well as a raft of posters and banners congratulating Chris and Darius. Coloured lighting, a DJ setting out his last bits of kit, and various members of our crowd beginning the process of Full and Complete Refreshment. As the team caught sight of Lainey, there was a loud cheer, and she responded with arms held up for quiet.
“Boys and girls!”
Pause for laughter…
“I am no longer your boss! I can relax tonight! Who’s got my first drink?”
Siân elbowed her.
“And what about me?”
Lainey pointed behind her wife, where Candice was holding out a glass of white wine.
“Don’t know what you are complaining about, wife! I am the one who had to ask, aye?”
The tone was set for the evening, and as the DJ cranked out a very mixed set of what I am told today’s yoof call ‘banging choons’, everybody, or almost, was getting into a proper party mood. To be honest, I spent a lot of the early part of the evening catching up with people I liked, in some cases loved, and it all fitted with my earlier warm thoughts about my luck. Scott and Omar were there, Dai Gould smiling happily as he watched them dance while himself gossiping with Bryn and Barry, Fahmi and Debbie. Marlene was in full Drag Bitch mode and clearly competing with Office Blonde for snarky banter, Rob and Ellen had obviously abandoned all pretence about merely being colleagues, Deb seemed to have brought almost all of her current and former residents along with their respective significant others, and of course the Sedakas were there. We were steadily running out of room, when, at about nine o’clock, the music stopped abruptly.
“Boys and girls!”
How on Earth had Chris managed to sneak in? I supposed that he had been waiting in Marlene’s flat, because with so many coppers it would have been impossible to come in under the radar.
“Boys and girls, thank you for coming to my bijou little party!”
Candice it was who replied.
“Piss off, Chris! This is our works do!”
“Piss off yourself, Blondie, or it will be YOUR works that get done! Anyway, what are you up to in April?”
“What I always am. About five foot six without my heels!”
That actually brought a snort from Chris, and an imaginary score chalked up by a grinning Candice. With a shake of his head, the skinny man continued.
“Wottevvor! Anyway, this wet dream standing beside me is Darius. If you haven’t met him before, now you have, and he is mine, not yours, not yours, certainly not YOURS, Marlene, and that big boy over there can put his tongue back in his mouth right now. Right, Mr Sutton?”
Another round of laughter, Chris again raising a hand for silence.
“This is it for the rest of you as well. I am now off the market and next year, in April, we are making it official. We are a bit short of toasters, so we thought we’d start a wedding present list. If you are too thick to understand, one of us asked, doesn’t matter which one, and the other said yes, so get your best kit ready!”
That said, he turned directly to Darius and, without the slightest sign of shame, kissed him long and passionately on the mouth, a little finger wave to the DJ starting the music off again. I looked round the room in curiosity, and although I did spot one or two winces, there were far more happy grins, even a number of tissues applied to moist eyes.
The music was lively, I had my dancing feet on, and above them I had my drinking head. I was with the man I loved, our boy was with his family, and I was free to be affectionate, and so I was. So were a lot of the others present, although Alun surprised me by leaving early with only the most perfunctory of farewells.
Rhys was with Jon, Rob with Ellen, Candice was swapping spit with Barry, the sneaky bitch, Lexie was canoodling with some skinny girl in a corner booth while several of Deb’s girls did their thing on the dance floor or with young men of various sizes. I sat for a while resting my feet, half cuddled to and by Siân and Elaine, when I spotted Deb at one end of the bar. It wasn’t so much her that I spotted but the fact that she was standing next to a man I half-recognised. Tall, older… Ah.
It was Gemma’s boss from the bakery/cake shop/patisserie, whatever. As I watched, she leant into the arm he laid round her waist, her own head resting on his shoulder as they spoke. Then, with the softest of smiles, she turned slightly, laying her right hand on his cheek before drawing his head down for a kiss.
I was tipsy when Dad collected us. When I slept beside my husband that night, it was as a happy woman.
CHAPTER 58
Blake was snoring, and he did smell rather strongly of stale beer. I was fuzzy-headed, to say the least, and while I dearly wanted more sleep, there was an urgent demand from my bladder I couldn’t defer. I realised I had rather overdone it the night before, and had a sudden shiver of shame and guilt as to how Dad must have felt on seeing and hearing me in what must have been quite a state of drunkenness.
Despite the number of women in the job, it seemed to remain resolutely macho. Sweet young things like Lexie and myself were quickly swept up into the habits of the men who had formed the culture, and were lost to our femininity. Women like Candice and Elaine, of course, were already immersed in the machismo before they ever joined, but…
I chuckled at those thoughts. Me? Feminine? What utter bollocks I could come up with when trying to deal with a hangover! As I flushed, I caught the smell of bacon coming up the stairs. Bless you, Mam.
Down those stairs to the living room, where three Small People were glued to some cartoon or other, the other two Powells cuddled up on the sofa. Mam appeared at the door with raised eyebrows, no need for words. Tea… I slipped into the spare seat on the sofa for a hug and a couple of grins. Lainey was as brutally direct as ever.
“Fancy cutting loose last night, did we?”
I groaned.
“No. Not really. It was when Chris started buying those rounds of shots… Going to be some blackmail-quality photos going round. Tell you what, though: some surprises last night. What with Lexie and Deb getting all touchy-feely. I didn’t have Lexie down as being on your side of the house”
Siân looked across her wife with a smile.
“My gaydar had picked it up, but I don’t think she really is, ah? I suspect she’s riding both buses, and, well, in that pub she’s far more likely to score with a woman than a lad. To be honest, I don’t think her heart was in it”
Elaine snorted.
“Her libido certainly bloody was! She went home with the girl”
“Not what I meant, cariad. I think she was just getting a bit of life back, after what happened. Don’t tell me you never did the same, eh? That girl down in Aberystwyth you told me about? No. You know I don’t worry about that. Long time ago, and you were so wound up for your sister. I know where you are now, and who you will always be with and for, so it could never be a problem. Girl nearly died. Natural to try and chase the demons away. Anyway, Di: why so surprised about Deb?”
What to tell? I decided on a severely edited version.
“Her history, Siân. Not really filled with knights in shining armour, was it? I don’t want to say anything more, but I think she might have found a little bit of her own release now Cooper’s banged away for the rest of his unnatural”
If Deb ever wanted to tell me the real reasons, that would be her decision, but I suspected it had rather a lot to do with Pig’s funeral. I looked over to the trio on the rug in front of the telly, and once more counted my blessings. Mam brought us all tea, and I answered her raised eyebrows with a comment about a husband who was still snoring. She smiled.
“And your Dad’s the same, isn’t it? Dirty stop-outs, and I don’t mean him. Go and give them both a shake, love. Breakfast is nearly ready”
As I rose, Lainey called after me.
“What happened to your boss, Di? Vanished sharpish. Don’t think he even got his tie off”
“He wasn’t wearing a tie!”
“You know what I mean”
“Talk after I slap the others, OK? Blake might know”
I did as requested, Elaine’s comment stinging a little. How pissed had I got? Rather a lot, it seemed. I was hit by an ambush memory of a karaoke session. Oh dear.
Both men grunted and turned over, but Dad was moving in the right direction as I left, and I ensured Blake was by the simple process of pulling the bedclothes off him, as the bacon smell was drawing me back downstairs. Elaine was still waiting, though, and continued her line of enquiry.
“Sammy was off a bit quick for ‘boss-at-Christmas party’ to explain, girl. He looked a bit worried as well. You got his number?”
Shit. I opened my mobile and rang.
“Hello. Can I help you? Oh. Di. Morning, mate. How did it go?”
“Morning to you, Sammy. It went very well, but so did you. What’s up?”
His reply came only after a noticeable pause.
“Who’s with you at the moment, Di?”
“Elaine and her missus, three kids on the rug, Mam in the kitchen. Why?”
“Talk neutrally, then. Anodyne replies. You know how”
The sofa was sinking beneath me, but I held it together.
“Yes, of course”
“No need to keep this from Elaine, but think about how and when, please. We have two deaths in custody, both people you know. Not related, as far as I can see, but be aware there will be a couple of inquests, and you might have to give evidence”
“Oh. Oh. Um, how?”
“One killing, one suicide, as far as I am aware. The killing was Cooper”
“Ah. I see. And?”
Sammy was breathing audibly now.
“Joe Evans. Ligature, I am told. From his bloody underpants, of all things, fuck knows how. Someone in that secure unit was asleep on their watch, and he looped them over a tap and sat down. Cooper was another inmate in his own vulnerable offenders’ unit. Both had connections to you, which is why I got the call. Now, Elaine needs to know. Can I leave it with you to do it sensibly and within the necessary limitations?”
“Er, yeah. Timescale?”
“Oh, not for a while. Coroner may simply ask for statements, leave it at that, but we’ll cross that bridge as and when. See you on Monday?”
“Yes, Sammy, you will. Some evening out for you!”
“What I get paid for, mate. Let hubby know too, of course”
“Will do. See you Monday”
I shut the phone and turned to Elaine.
“Could we have a chat? Back yard? Something we need to discuss. Just the two of us, OK?”
She nodded, Siân looking worried, so I smiled to take the edge off before leading Elaine out of the back door to the fence at the end of our back garden. She stared flatly at me.
“And?”
“Sammy had a call, love. Not going to mess about here, OK? Two deaths in custody, isn’t it?”
A narrowing of her eyes.
“Who?”
“Charlie Cooper and Joe Evans”
“Fuck! Can’t be related, they were too far apart!”
I shook my head.
“No. He wasn’t saying that. It’s just that I have connections to both of them, and you are obviously tied into what the other Charlie called ‘That wonky-eyed cunt’, innit?”
“Yeah, but… what happened?”
“Oh, from what Sammy says, Charlie got done over by another inmate. The WEC managed to hang himself, apparently with his own underpants. That isn’t what I am bothered about, woman. We are all three of us clear on those deaths, that’s me, you, Blake and Jon, yeah?”
“So what are you worried about, then?”
I took a little while to find the right words.
“Elaine, please listen, and take this as I mean it. I am not asking you a question, nor do I require an answer, but I suspect Sammy had the same thoughts. Blake and I met someone at your house, and I do not mean Annie and Eric”
“Oh. Oh fuck”
Do not mention Ellen, DC Sutton. Police, professional.
“I am aware of what happened to a certain wonky-eyed cunt after he beat up a woman, Elaine. So is Blake, so is Sammy. So, I believe, is the Super, and by ‘aware of’ I mean more than just what happened, but who may have been involved”
For the first time in my life I saw Elaine Powell looking frightened. I did my best to ease that sudden terror.
“Please listen, and I will say what I think. No replies, OK? There were four witnesses to what happened to WEC. WEC is no more, and I suspect that of the other three, one shot himself a little while ago, and another may have died on his motorcycle or in other less pleasant ways. That leaves one living person. I suspect that everyone I have mentioned so far is happy to leave things as they are, but perhaps our sole survivor may need alerting”
She nodded sharply, once more in control of herself, and suddenly hugged me, kissing my cheek.
“You are such a good woman, Di Sutton. I am honoured to be your friend, aye?”
“Aye. Yes. Now: breakfast?”
I led the way back in, the matter close, at least for the time being. I wondered what was happening in the Elliott household, so bound up in their hatred of Cooper, and resolved to take time to give Ben Nicol-Clements a call, once it was safe to do so. Shit: no wonder Sammy had left in such a hurry. A few minutes later, I was sitting down at our table, all the extending bits pulled out, as the three children worked through cereal followed by sausage and beans, the grown-ups limited to a full Welsh complete with bara lawr, counting my blessings.
Deb. I had to let her know.
“Dearest sweet husband of mine?”
“What you want, woman?”
“World peace and to work with children. And picking up later. Dad?”
“Aye?”
“Could you drop me off in the city later? I have to pop in and see how a friend is”
CHAPTER 59
Dad dropped me off, as requested, and I took a seat and another rehydration cuppa in the little café across the road from the safe house. Out with the mobile.
“Morning, Di! Bright and early after last night, aren’t you?”
“It wasn’t that heavy a night!”
“Says Queen Karaoke the first!”
“Shit. Was I that bad?”
“No, not at all. You had all the right notes. Just for different songs to the ones you were trying to sing. Anyway, what’s up?”
“Charlie and Tiff with you?”
“No. Randy little sods are still out. Gemma too”
“You worried?”
Her tone changed.
“Not this time, Di. I made bloody sure I knew exactly where they were going off to. Vetted the places before I let them go off, too. They will call me before noon, and if not, I will ring your lot”
“I should have known. You weren’t exactly solo last night, either”
She paused for rather longer than I was comfortable with.
“Where are you, girl? Home?”
“Nope. In that café over the road”
“Give me five minutes, OK?”
“Want me to get you a coffee or something?”
“If you don’t mind. White Americano, please”
I did as she had asked, and after a short wait I saw her approaching, in a worn pair of jeans and a fleece jacket. The door bell rang as she entered, the two other clients looking up before turning back to their newspapers. She took the seat opposite and disposed of a major part of her coffee before speaking.
“Is it something about Frank? Are you here to deliver some warning or other?”
I reached out for her hand, and she gripped mine as she would a lifeline. I smiled as gently as I could.
“Nothing like that, love. I recognised him, is all, and that’s all I know. Gemma’s boss, isn’t it?”
She nodded, and I continued.
“He’s not why I am here, love. What you tell me about Frank is down to you. Your life, your business. All I ever need to know is if you are safe and happy, but later. I have news you need to know about. Charlie Cooper and Joe Evans”
“What the hell? They can’t be out, surely?”
“Um, no, not that, and no, it’s not that they’re connected to each other. They’re… Shit. They’re both dead, woman”
She sat open-mouthed for a few seconds before gathering herself.
“That’s why you wanted to know about Tiff and Charlie, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Exactly”
“Are you able to tell me what happened to them?”
“within limits”
“Of course. Want to come over to the house? We can talk in the first house. I’ll ask the girls to stay away for a while”
I supped up, and we crossed the road in a biting wind to the back door, Deb letting us both in and turned immediately to the fridge.
“I shouldn’t ask, from what I know about your Mam, but have you had breakfast? I am doing myself a bacon roll, and you’d be welcome to one yourself”
“Go ahead”
I recognised what she was doing: displacement activity so she would have an excuse not to look at me as I spoke, so I let her carry on and gathered my words to me.
“Evans topped himself, it appears, Deb. Not going to give details”
“Of course, love. Cooper?”
“Someone else on the nonce wing took a dislike to him”
“Easy thing to do, I suppose. I wasn’t exactly fond of him…”
The knife clattered as it fell to the floor, followed by Deb. I found myself sitting with her, as she sobbed into my shoulder. The words came in the end, but slowly, in horrible spasms.
“It’s not fucking fair, Di! Why does he get out of it so easily? Why?”
I had no answer beyond what I hoped was the comfort of my embrace. We sat there for several endless minutes until she sat up again, shaking her head.
“Get up, Di. I shouldn’t have put you through that”
“Piss off, woman. That’s what friends are for. That’s… That’s what love is about, yeah? Bacon sarnie?”
“Uh, yes. Give me a minute. Just going to wash my face”
“Want me to get it started for you?2
“Yes please. And thanks again”
“Piss off and wash, woman”
I used the kitchen tap to give my own face a rinse, and then started the pan off. Deb was soon back, splitting and buttering rolls, and then with a quick “Sod dieting” she started a few eggs frying. Back still towards me, she started again.
“How are you getting home, girl? How did you get here; I didn’t see your car”
“Dad dropped me off. Blake is going to pick me up; he comes when called”
She snorted at my unfortunate turn of phrase, then caught herself once more.
“Could he pick the two girls up as well? Go for a little drive down the lock again? Somehow, that place seems right”
“Sort of, well, our place, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely. It’ll be a flask of tea and some biscuits, though. Bit cold for ice cream”
“I’ll let him know, Deb. Getting a little late for the girls to ring?”
It was almost as if the two younger women had been listening in, as Deb’s phone rang.
“Yeah? Tiff, your fault for going out without a coat in the first place. How long? OK. Meet you on the corner in an hour. Yes, I’ll bring you a jacket!”
Deb looked at me meaningfully just as her landline started ringing, and as she had a similar conversation with Charlie, I texted the essentials to my man, and then we settled down to a very messy brunch of yolk-dripping egg and bacon rolls. Despite Mam’s five-thousand-feeding efforts, there was something about my hangover that left me aching to feed myself with grease.
Blake was on time, giving us just enough time to clean away the evidence of our gluttony. He parked up by the café, and I let Deb take the front seat for ease of navigation. Off through the city to the Brewery Park area, both addresses being somewhere near the corner of Emerald and Clifton Streets, where the two girls were waiting, Charlie’s coat wrapped round them both in an effort to keep the sharp wind out. As the coat in question wasn’t exactly a piece of winter sports equipment, I doubt it was doing much good, but I was touched by the affection Charlie’s action showed. I squeezed over as far as I could manage so that the two could scramble in, and they wasted no time doing so. Tiff was blowing on her hands in relief.
“Ooh! Warmth! Taxi last night, didn’t realise how cold it would be. Morning, Di, Blake! What you doing here?”
My man pulled away smoothly, attention, as ever, fully on his driving, as Deb replied in his stead.
“What’s he doing here? Picking up two friends, one of whom was too stupid even to take a coat with her in December. Anyway, I’ve put some warmer kit in the boot, as well as some flasks and snacks. Lock gates, Blake?”
“I hear and obey, Mistress!”
I made some sarcy comment or other, but I had my attention fixed on Charlie. Normally, she would have been the louder one of the pair, Tiff taking a secondary role, but all the words were coming from the quieter one.
“Charlie?”
“Mmf?”
“Everything OK?”
She looked at me, and I simply failed at reading her expression, her eyes locked on mine for a few seconds before she turned and nudged her friend.
“Tiff?”
“Yeah?”
“How was last night?”
A burst of happy laughter.
“You mean at the pub? Diane, you really are shit at karaoke! I mean, well, not nasty, yeah, but I couldn’t stop laughing!”
I felt my face growing warm.
“I am trying to forget about that bit, woman”
“Na, not what I meant. You were just so happy, made me smile! And that Chris and his fella, all over each other like a pair of octopus… octopuses… octopi… whatever”
Charlie held up a hand.
“Not what I meant, love. How was it back at Jake’s?”
Tiff calmed down abruptly, but she was still bright and breezy.
“Oh, I see. Well, his parents, yeah, they’re all like old school, but I think they sort of get their head round me being…”
She paused to wave her hands in the air, fishing for the words.
“Me being not exactly like other girls, yeah? But they seem to be OK, and they did us both a brekky. NO! Not in bed! Separate rooms!”
Charlie was nodding at that.
“Yeah. Seb’s parents were OK too. Just, well, we got our tea in bed. Together”
Tiff’s eyes were wide.
“You dirty…!”
The look Charlie gave her was far older than her years, but then her life had aged her in so many ways that I wasn’t surprised.
“Not like that, Tiff. Please: no questions? I just feel a little bit… I feel lost. Di?”
“Can you understand? We’re sisters, aren’t we?”
I took her hands, both clamped together in her lap.
“Of course we are, love. Survivors, isn’t it?”
Once again, I got a long and confusing stare.
“Can I ask a personal question? About you and Blake?”
I looked at the back of his head, and saw him give a sharp nod.
“Go ahead, love, though I might not answer”
“How did you feel, you know, when the two of you first got together?”
“Happy? Yes. That’s a good word”
“No. Not what I meant. Being dirty and all”
That one cut right through my shields, and I took a little while to sort my answer out, realising what it was that was hurting the child-woman beside me.
“Validated, Charlie. Washed clean. Loved. Wanted. Reborn. Finally able to step away from Ashley fucking Evans and all the others. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“I’m not asking you to say things unless you feel them, Di. But, well, yeah. What am I?”
“My friend. Student. Girl in need of a smile, isn’t it?”
“Tranny. Not real. Never will be”
I started to reply, and she reached across to put a finger to my lips.
“No, love. Let me get this out while I can. Last night, it was all real, all acceptance, and Seb and I get back to his place, and his parents are so fucking happy to see me, cause all they care about is their son being happy. His Mam, she says, ‘I read this thing on Facethingy, and it was about a parent not wanting their child to say if they were gay or not, just to bring someone home, and they’d give them a cuppa and ask how they met, and it would be the same, boy or girl’. And I go to say something, and she stops me, and says, ‘But he’s brought a girl home, so that means I get another woman to gossip with, win-win’. So I get weepy…”
She looked away, staring through the back of Deb’s head.
“All I am going to say about Seb… He was so fucking TENDER. I was just his girl, someone he loved, and all the time I am not real, and I am falling in love, and I haven’t got a fucking CLUE what to do about it!”
There were three of us, three sisters, on the back seat, and it got a little confusing for a while, as we all tried to hug while saying Right and Sensible things as Deb and Blake held their tongues.
We arrived at the waterfront, Blake finding a spot to park that wasn’t too far from the lock gates, and once more we took our seats in a place that meant so much to all of us, in so many different ways. Stones thrown into the sea; big men discussing mayhem in a deep and croaking voice. Summer and ice creams. Deb served cups of tea, passing around a packet of custard creams and a bag of chocolates for those who still needed calories to combat their hangovers. As she did so, she made the announcement.
“Di has news for us all, girls. That’s why we came out here. Bit of stuff that needs keeping quiet for now, but you’ll understand. Charlie? You OK now?”
She did her best to grin back, her old spirit still there.
“Yeah. Thanks, all. Bit of a shocker for me, falling in love. Bit lost. Not exactly had it before, have I?”
Tiff hugged her.
2Shut up and drink your tea, girl. Deb? Got a caramel one?”
Some rummaging produced the required sweet, and I realised all eyes were on me. Ah, well.
“I was given some news this morning that I need to share. No further than us here, till it gets made public, but Deb’s told you that already. Part one: Charlie Cooper”
Charlie’s eyes went blank and hard.
“That one who raped Deb?”
Several of us nodded.
“Yes, Charlie, That one. Apparently, someone else on the vulnerable prisoners’ wing---”
Charlie spat out the word “Nonce!”
“Yes. Someone else on the nonce wing took a dislike to him. He’s gone. Permanently. There will be an inquest, no doubt, which might involve Deb and myself”
Tiff was the first to speak.
2Thanks, Di, Blake. We all know you will be there for us”
She looked hard at Charlie before continuing.
“We know that all of our families and friends and loved ones will be there for us, right? But there’s more, isn’t it? Something for Charlie and me?”
I nodded.
“Yes. It’s Joe Evans”
“Wonky-eyed cunt!” Charlie spat.
“Yeah. That one. He’s gone as well. Did it himself, it seems”
I looked at the two open mouths before me, giving them a wry smile.
“That one will probably be an inquest as well, and they will be speaking to me and all the others involved in his arrest and trial. You both need to be ready for some old wounds to be opened”
Tiff nodded, and turned to cuddle with Charlie.
“No problems, sis. What can go wrong? We’ve got our friends, and our family, isn’t it?”
A squeeze to Charlie before Tiff added “And our lovers”
CHAPTER 60
I looked hard at them both, and it was almost as if they had clicked into sharper focus. They both passed well as cis women, which was probably down to starting their transition at a young age, but that wasn’t the point. If I hadn’t known about them, I would never have guessed their history, unlike with Gemma, who would never manage to look like anything other than herself. Her man didn’t seem to mind, though, and that was clearly down to the personality that had attracted her from the start.
Tiff and Charlie had another issue, I guessed, in that their luck in their appearance left them with the dilemma of deciding when to be open about how they had begun their lives. I could see a horrible set of risks bubbling away there, and once more blessed my own good fortune in life.
Charlie suddenly grinned.
“Got my own news, as well! Got a letter on Friday, from the clinic. All sort of fits together with last night”
She stopped speaking abruptly, and after a struggle, managed to get most of her next mouthful of tea down without spraying it into the air.
Tiff leant away from her, eyes wide in feigned outrage.
“Yeah? And? AND?”
“Got a date, isn’t it? March!”
I was lost, but Blake had clearly worked it out, roaring with laughter. I gave him a Mother Look until he calmed down, and he grinned as he spoke.
“Don’t you get it, woman? ‘Fits together’, aye?”
“No”
He turned to Charlie, grin switching to much gentler smile.
“Have I got it right, love? Where will it be?”
She smiled, and it was finally a simple, happy one.
“Brighton, place called Nuffield Health”
Realisation hit me like a train, and to my shame, rather than congratulating her, I corpse horribly as I finally got the reference to ‘fitting’. Such a huge step, but one so very obviously the right one. Tiff was sniffing almost as loudly as Charlie normally would.
“Gem is gonna be, like, SO pissed off, girl! Wonderful news!”
We did the group hug thing, and the Q and A session about what she needed, and how, and where, as Deb simply sat smiling in quiet but obvious happiness. I saw Annie’s face in my mind’s eye, and knew that this was absolutely right for Charlie. I took both her hands in mine once more.
“Charlie?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you”
“What for?”
“Blake and I were really worried we were bringing a pile of shit to you both, and at Christmas. You’ve just made our day”
“Well, they’ll make my day in March, along with a new vajayjay. You going to visit me in hospital? I will want satsumas and choccies, not grapes”
How on Earth did someone so young gain such resilience? She turned to Tiff with her own soft smile.
“Don’t worry, Tiff. You and Gem will be along soon. Gives me the test drive, yeah? So I can tell you all what you need to know before your turn”
She corpse herself immediately after that statement, and it was Tiff who kept her calm, explaining the mirth.
“Di, just ignore her. She just wants to make some stupid joke about test-driving it when she gets back. Don’t encourage her”
She looked around until she could find a simple way of changing the subject.
“Pierhead. Hot chocolate. Cheese and ham panini. My treat!”
There were no objections, and so we walked round the waterfront and past Ianto’s Shrine to the more gentrified shopping area around the giant chess set. Tiff’s choice of venue seemed to be based on whichever loyalty card she held (bloody hipster students!) but there were seats, it was warm, and they had a goat’s cheese and beetroot Italian hot sandwich thing that begged me to eat it. Bloody hangovers do horrible things to diets.
Promises were made, assurances given, and calendars amended. Blake and I left three happier women at the safe house, and then returned to our own little bubble of warmth.
The paid work started in earnest on the Monday, as we began a rolling programme of static observation ‘stagging’ the main venue in Merthyr Tydfil. Alun, of course, had done a drive-by, clocking any obvious cameras, entries and exits, and. most important of all, the location of a decent greasy spoon. I said so long to my husband, as Sammy’s splitting came into effect, but while I felt rather lost without him it left our boy with company and a sense of family as a presence rather than an absence.
It got to be a routine, which is always dangerous, as too obvious a pattern, too clear a set of habits, can leave a team showing out rather early. I spent most of my time with Alun, so much so I suspect the man who ran the Merthyr café clearly thought we were an adulterous couple. God alone knows what he would have thought if I had come in with a series of different ‘paramours’. I pondered working with Candice for a couple of shifts just to freak him out, but that would have been silly. Silly, and not P, P. But funny.
Routine it was, though, in the end. Drive up and get on plot, list any vehicles coming or going, snap any obvious faces, drink tea, eat bacon sarnies and write up our notes. We had a few repeats of that snogging moment when tracking the Evans crew, but Alun was always clean, even making a joke of the packet of mints he had started carrying around expressly for the purpose of not sharing any second-hand meals, or at least their flavour.
Then we had Christmas, in a sodding tent in Surrey, seeing my old/new friend and her own crew take flight as high as that of the airliners at Gatwick. Such a contrast in how people took their delight in the world. Annie and the others flew on music and dance, love and life, and here we were staging people whose idea of a good time was allegedly seeing two animals rip each other apart. The contrast wasn’t the worst part of it all, but it did sit our customers in a particularly vile light.
And back to Merthyr bloody cold Tydfil.
There were regular vehicle numbers coming up now, and Sammy amended our observation pattern to allow each of us some office time, which for me meant hours of the old free-association thing I was told so often was my forte. Shortly after New Year, a couple of pieces fell into place.
“Sammy!”
“Yes, mate?”
“Got a glitch in this one. This number, yeah? Mazda pick-up. Blue”
“And?”
“That’s the DVLA info, and I have these records of it… here. And a pic”
“Yup, blue. And?”
“And this one, in white. Same number. Two hours apart”
“Cheeky fuckers! What does that give us?”
“Apart from an insight into their criminality, and an excuse to stop them on the road, not much apart from what Border Force told me. They use the reg number for what they call roll-up, where they show how many times a day the innocent cross-border shopper goes over to collect some cheese, baguettes and Nutella for their own personal consumption”
“Sarcasm suits you, woman! Pattern of criminality established, then. What’s the rest?”
“Uh?”
“You will have more for me, Di. I know you”
“Ah, yeah. There’s been an increase in the number of deliveries. Alun and I thought that just before Christmas, but things have really shot up now. New year will explain some of it, but not all. ELLEN!”
She ambled over, holding a file she had shown me only an hour earlier.
“Got a nice tickle here, Sammy. It was Sean’s idea originally, but it was one that I took and grew in my own special and talented way”
Our boss was grinning, and it was, of course, Feral Sammy that held court just then. Ellen looked almost as predatory.
“Went through business rates stuff at the Council, and got a list of all lock-up units in the area. Lexie did the biz on it with some tech tool she wrote, and we have a warehouse unit. Rented to the same boys that have our two venues. Took the liberty of checking for CCTV, and there’s a Council one just outside the gate. Di here’s been looking at the footage. That right, Mrs Sutton?”
“Shut up, Mrs Williams!”
“Bitch!
“Cow!”
Sammy managed to stop laughing just long enough to get us back on course, and I took point.
“Something me and Alun picked up before Christmas was the increase in number of deliveries. The footfall of customers doesn’t seem sufficient for what’s coming in. There certainly wouldn’t be the space to store it all as well as still have room round the bar, so we went looking for a depot. It still doesn’t explain the quantity, though. As I said, NYE won’t be the reason. I think…”
I caught myself as well as the grin from Ellen.
“WE think there’s a meet coming up. It will be a weekend, most probably”
Sammy nodded sharply.
“That’s news we needed. I was on my way to see the Super to give a sitrep, and I needed something concrete. He’s got customers piled up wanting to use our services, and while he is happy to keep us live on this case, he needs ways to tell them to piss off. Politics, as usual. What will we need if it goes off?”
That was typical of the man, as he knew full well what we would require, but he simply wanted to let us tell our own story and build our own case. Ellen nodded to me: stay in the hot seat.
“We are not really going to know if anything is starting, or when, Sammy. Bit short of humint on this one. They’re almost as tight-knit as the Culhwch. Just a lot less surveillance aware”
I took a breath, and started to lay it out for him.
“As many dog handlers as we can get, just without their own dogs. As many carriers and plod as can be spared. And a vet or two”
“And a go signal?”
I shrugged, and then committed myself.
“There are kennels out the back of the main venue. They will want their own dogs established early, getting to know the pit. I did some reading. Nearly did some puking as well, but that’s what we are here for. Big money on this game, gambling for high stakes on the dogs. Add in the blood, it is big news. People who run these events have their own dogs, and they bet on them, and they want to win, surprise surprise”
I handed off to Ellen, who grimaced.
“Home turf, Sammy. Home advantage. The bastards have their dogs imprinted on them, just like pets. Daddy gives me treats, oh how I love Daddy, woof woof! So they bring their own dogs down, let them get the idea that the pit is their home ground. Their owner might even camp out with them so it sticks in their little doggy brains that bit more. Makes them fight that much harder for Daddy, cause Daddy lurves them”
Sammy looked between the two of us, eyes cold and hard.
“So we await the dogs, then? And then hit them at the weekend?”
Ellen and I nodded together, and she added a simple prayer.
“Can we hit them just as hard as we hit the Evans lot?”
Feral Sammy was front and centre at that as professional Sammy left the room.
“Fuck, yeah!”
CHAPTER 61
There was no way I was going to survive another debauch, especially so soon after both Christmas and our team party. I really wasn’t up to another set of ambush memories biding their time to emerge at the most inopportune moments possible, thank you very much. Besides, Rhod was due his own moment with my parents, and so our New Year’s Eve was spent with family, a small boy assured he would be allowed to stay up and hear the bongs finally succumbing to slumber and falling asleep cuddled up to his Bamps.
He had done his best at diminishing the traditional pile of snacks, both savoury and sweet, before fitting himself under my father’s arm. Some things remain inevitable. We woke him, as promised, in time for Big Ben and a rendition of Auld Lang Syne that gave me painful insights into what my performance must have been like at the karaoke session. For a soprano (or alto, contralto or even a bloody baritone) I made a great set of stickle bricks. He was asleep again before the end of Jools Holland’s show, Dad carrying him up to bed for us, but the little sod was still bright and early on January 1st, so we had to drive down to the coast and skim stones together.
We avoided Dunraven and Southerndown Beach in unspoken agreement. New year, new hopes and dreams, but old and enduring loves to comfort us.
Back to work, trying to come up with some sort of solution to the major obstacle to our investigation: when. It was similar in many ways to the messy raid on the biker rally, but at least there we had known when things would kick off, just not quite where. Here, we knew exactly where, down to the last rivet in the aluminium skin of the warehouse, but we hadn’t a clue as to the ‘when’.
We weren’t messing about with helicopters and sneaky squaddies this time, but resource management was still difficult. There was no way we could pull half the plod in the Force, and all its dog-handlers, to sit on stand-by every weekend. Coppers have lives outside work, and so do all the other criminals that operate in our part of the country. Even with the lead time that Ellen had identified, we were struggling.
Six days after NYE, my mobile jumped and shivered in my pocket as a text arrived. I was only paying half of the attention it deserved, which was a pity. It was from Deb.
Need to talk. Someone wants see you. Call me. Deb.
I dialled her number, and she picked up immediately.
“Hiya Deb, and happy new year etc. What’s up?”
“How busy are you today, girl? Can you get some time off? I don’t mean off work, I mean out of the office”
I ran through my schedule, took a quick look at my calendar.
“Yeah. Can do”
“Call you back in ten, then”
Click. What was she up to? I called across to Sammy to explain, and he looked worried.
“Problem with one of the girls, Di?”
“No idea. Find out more when I find out more, I suppose.
Ring.
“Hi again, Deb”
“Can you pick me up in an hour, Di? By the café? Can’t tell you what for, but just you this time, OK?”
“I can that. You have me worried, love. One of the girls?”
“No, nothing like that. Look, I have a new resident to get settled. See you in an hour?”
“Yeah, OK”
I was there very early, my palms sweating as I sat waiting in the car. Deb was normally far more open about things than she was being that morning, and anxiety was almost a default setting for me when she slipped out of her normal ways. I almost missed it when she appeared, jerking back to full attention only when she pulled the door open, slipping into the passenger seat after setting down a rucksack behind us.
“You know Rhiwbina Hill?”
“Ribena? Yup, berry well”
“Shit jokes, Di? Nothing to worry about. Girls are fine. I just have a favour or two to sort out. This one’s for you. Partly”
She looked off out of the window for a few seconds, then turned back with a tight smile.
“Ribena Hill, then, into Fforest Fawr. I’ll direct you from there”
She was silent for most of the ride, only coming to life as we passed the big house right on the edge of the woods.
“Keep straight one, Di. I’ll tell you when”
It is a narrow road, dark and damp under the trees even without the leaves the new year would bring, the occasional large residence looming through the bare branches. Passing places came and went before Deb raised an arm.
“Here. Doesn’t look like much, but there’s a bit of hard standing just behind that bush with the yellow leaves on it”
I parked as she directed, and turned the engine off.
“And?”
“We wait”
We didn’t wait long. I heard them before I saw them, and the noise told me what and who it might be, in general if not specifically. Two Harleys rolled up next to us, each carrying a full-patch biker, but it was a club I didn’t recognise until the obvious leader took off their helmet and shook their hair free. The colours read ‘Y Falkiri MC’ and I knew the first rider, her face burned into my memory. As she stamped towards us, I looked straight at Deb, who shrugged.
“Wildcat wanted a word. I think you should listen carefully and bloody politely”
Fuck it. Class, they called it. I stepped out of the car; she wasn’t going to have me in a subordinate position.
“Hello, Wildcat. Didn’t think there were women’s MCs”
“Shows how fucking. much you know, copper. Us for one. Little Sisters in Kent. There’s a few out there, but a lot more posers. Fucking dykes on bikes, aye? What are you doing in fucking Merthyr?”
I had grown accustomed to the MC way in my limited dealings with them: straight to the point, no messing about, no games. They spoke, they said it once, and if you weren’t listening they dumped you as either stupid or rude. Still: what did she know?
“What do you mean Merthyr?”
“Fuck off, woman. Want me to list your car numbers?”
She held out a hand without looking, the other patch passing her some sheets of A4, and I realised it was most definitely me on a back foot. I shook my head.
“Not telling you, woman. No can do. My own fucking class, yeah?”
Suddenly the old warrior grinned, winking at Deb.
“I was right about this little piggy, then, Debs. She has got a pair, hasn’t she? And I don’t mean the ones hubby carries about for her. Got the stuff?”
Deb laughed, and it was happier in tone than I would have expected.
“In a rucksack, love. Got a mix”
“Aye, but the brown stuff?”
“Give me a minute!”
I understood in the end, as Wildcat’s sister opened some panniers on her bike to pull out four folding camp stools, and Deb started pouring what smelled like hot chocolate from a couple of large flasks into four mugs. We settled down next to the car, nothing audible on that windless day but the ticking of cooling engines and sighs of appreciation, especially after Deb reached into the rucksack again and produced an all-too-familiar cardboard box.
Wildcat smiled, and it was with some warmth.
“You’ve done well with that girl, love. Real talent. Lad’s got no black marks so far, either. You found your place in the world, didn’t you?”
Deb nodded, her own smile not quite so assured.
“Took me a while, though. You heard about Cooper?”
The biker flicked me a Look that could have cut steel.
“Oh yes. But absolutely not until afterwards, isn’t it, copper?”
I had a number of thoughts in quick succession, but I managed to keep them from my mouth, filing them in the secure location I reserved for ‘Steve and Alison Barraclough’. I limited my reply to the obvious.
“If you want to discuss that rapist, I might just have to go and walk off some of these calories”
The other biker laughed out loud, and both of the other woman stared hard at her till she subsided into snorts and catches in her breathing, but I caught a wink from her. I wasn’t entirely without support, then. Her President licked the last jam and crumbs from her fingers and turned back to me.
“Listen and inwardly digest, copper. I am a girl, and I like girl things, including rainbows and kittens and unicorns, aye?”
I had just enough time to think “WTF?” before she started again.
“I like dogs. I REALLY like dogs. My Carling and me, we breed…”
Just the slightest crack in her armour, but she closed it up with an almost audible snap.
“Pig and I, me now, we bred, breed wolfhounds. Got three at home, no fucking puppy farm. Proper licensed breeder and dealer, that’s me. Elf here, it’s bull terriers”
The other woman held up a hand.
“Not fucking chav staffies, copper. Bull terriers. Best breed there is, even if the Prez here disagrees. Rockrose has a deerhound, then there are collies, all sorts”
Wildcat let her speak without interruption, and I watched the interplay closely. There was a clear hierarchy in place, but as long as Elf was talking sense, her leader left her to it. It spoke of a deep mutual respect I found myself envying, before I considered what I myself had in family and team. The older woman nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, dead right. Apart from that bollocks about long-nosed bandy dwarf dogs. Anyway, as I said. I am a girl, and as a girl I love my fucking dogs, and the idea of watching one of mine while he rips another one to shitty giblets makes me unhappy. That is why you have been sitting around in Merthyr, DC Sutton. Isn’t it?”
“I couldn’t possibly comment”
“Ha! Take it from me, then: I do not fucking approve of dog-fighting. This is my turf, and it does not fucking happen here”
I drew in a slow breath.
“Then it’s not the cheap drinking dens, then? Not the competition with your own places?”
Wildcat simply stared at me for about five seconds, as I tried to work out whether I had overstepped her tightly-drawn boundaries of respect and class.
All of a sudden, she was laughing, eyes smiling at Deb.
“Fuck, love! I was right about this one, aye? Balls as well as class!”
Her gaze swept back to me, a rather theatrical butter-wouldn’t-melt look of innocence appearing on her face.
“Told you, copper, didn’t I? Of course it’s also about the customers. I’m a girl, remember? We multitask!”
She was immediately back into business mode.
“I am not speaking to coppers, got me? But if, as a poor little girl of sensitivity and soppiness, I hear that someone may be about to mistreat some poor little puppies, I may just mention the date and place to a friend. In advance. Thanks for the cake, Deb, and the hot choc. Got to go now. Things to do, people to see, straights to outrage”
If I hadn’t stood, I am sure the stool would have gone from underneath me. Two bikes rumbled into life, and then were gone. Fuck. I found my mobile and rung the office.
“Sammy? Di. I think I have some arms’ length humint. Need to know, OK?”
CHAPTER 62
I had to register my source, naturally, but somehow the fact that Deb was merely acting as a go-between, rather than the primary, slipped my mind. There were too many tangled threads to unravel safely, and my friend was already listed as a source as a consequence of her work with us on the Cooper case.
In reality, I wanted any possible connection to a certain couple in Reading strangled before it was born.
I spent many sleepless nights trying to find justification for my own spectacular lapse in P, P, but the closest I could get to formal validation of my failure was from Lord Denning.
Look not at the letter of the law, but rather at what the law is for. Perhaps Steve and what had almost certainly been Pig could have been introduced to Ashley fucking Evans…
No. That was far too tempting a slope, and one impossible to climb back up. It did give me a laugh, though, when I realised that I was now automatically donating an extra middle name to my rapist. I mentioned that to Annie during one of our now-regular chats, and she burst out laughing.
“That’s like Piers Morgan getting his CBE!”
“You are bloody joking! Not in the New year Honours, surely? I mean, Liz is far from senile!”
“No, Di! Not that sort of CBE. It’s from my cycling friends, sort of a rule on one of the forums. The man can NOT be mentioned without adding ‘That CBE’ to his name”
“So spill?”
“Colossal Bell End…”
That was how I translated her reply, because she couldn’t stop laughing for nearly a minute, and that included the time she took in saying those three words. I saw her point, and for Rhod’s sake, Evans became AFE from that moment.
Our observation routine continued, which meant seeing little of my other man during the week, but Rhod was the important one, and he had one parent to love him every day, Mam covering any breaks and ensuring he was never left alone at the school gates.
So lucky.
I was watching Alun closely now I understood the real reason for his shabbiness and constant air of fatigue, but he never seemed to let go of his own peculiar interpretation of P, P. All I wanted to do was return that loyalty and commitment, but I was lost. I read up on MS, I watched endless on-line videos, but nothing jumped out of the screen shouting “Me! Me! I am the magic bullet!”
It really did seem to be merely the official term for ‘World of worsening shit’. That ‘lucky’ thought hurt me at times, for it left me feeling profoundly guilty. Lynne had done nothing to deserve such an affliction—no rubbish about karma---and I had done sod-all to deserve my own good fortune. If ‘karma’ was real, why did it not shit all over people like the Evans family, or Pritchard, or any of those other vermin?
I ended up smiling at that one, in a rather perverse way. I had used Deb as a cut-out to keep her biker friend out of the frame, a sort of subcontractor, and here was I, subcontracting for that karma I didn’t believe in.
Once again, it was a chat with my old friend that cleared my thoughts on that one. I had mentioned Tammy’s mantra, and Annie murmured agreement.
“Aye. Live a good life, and do your best to leave the world a better place than you found it”
“I like that one, woman!”
She sighed.
“Not mine, Di. One of Simon’s”
“Simon?”
“The vicar. Merry’s husband; you met him at Christmas. It was from that funeral we mentioned, someone we got to know a but late in life. All about leaving things better than you found them. Simon’s a bit into that sort of thing. Can’t think of many nicer people…”
She was silent for a short while, then came back far perkier in tone.
“Speaking of which, what are you doing on the weekend nearest the Summer Solstice?”
“Not playing druids, if that’s what you mean”
“No, not at all. Well, sort of. Think what we did at Christmas, but warmer and partly outdoors, aye? Annual thing it is now; Music Day at Saint Nick’s, Simon calls it. And the pubs and that aren’t all shut. Fancy it?”
“Could do. Rhod enjoyed the camping, so it could work, and it reminds me of someone else. Did you follow our paedophile investigation?”
Her voice tightened.
“Yes. Had one of our own, aye? But yes. You found some very brave witnesses, girl”
“Yeah, and that’s what came to mind. One of them has a date in Brighton in the Spring. Some slight adjustments that… Some procedures I think you might understand”
“Ah! Which one? You had a couple of trans girls in the box, from what I read”
“I’ll ask her first, Annie. She might not want to be so open, but I think you’ve guessed what I was asking”
“Could be two things, Di. Doing hospital visit duties for you, or providing B and B for others to do so. We can offer you both, once you’ve done the permission thing, aye? We have a lot of room around here. Not just my place, but Steph, the Woods, Simon and Merry, Dennis and Kirst—too many to remember in one go, aye?”
“I’ll let you know, nearer the day, yeah? But thanks, Annie. She’s as happy as, looking forward, isn’t it? But I think she’s rather nervous underneath all the bravado”
“Bound to be. It’s not exactly a small thing, is it?”
“Not after they chop it off”
“I keep thinking you can’t get much worse, and then… No. I am not going to get into a full description of what they do, woman. Been there, done that. I think you know full well. What I meant was that it is a hugely significant step, aye? Symbolic, as well as physical. Let me know nearer the day, and we’ll sort something that suits”
We wound up the chat with the usual promises, and I sat for a little while feeling far better about things, and I had the beginnings of another idea.
More observation, more cups of tea and bacon rolls, as well as a lot of looking over my shoulder. If the Valkyries had identified us so easily, what about our real opposition? I felt a little as I had the day Blake and I spoke to the woman in the heritage place at Dunraven, when we were shown how much our super-professional investigation had actually missed. One of Dai Gould’s own mantras was spot on, about learning on the job and never finishing the process. He had been quite insistent on the point.
“Di, make mistakes, the more the better, then put them right. That is how you learn. If you keep making the same ones, though, go and find another job”
Yeah, right. I could no longer imagine not doing the job, I had, so it was moot. Life went on as it always had, and I could as easily forget to breathe as much as I could stop coppering.
“Deb?”
“Hiya, Di!”
Her voice sounded lighter than usual, far more upbeat, which confirmed the decision I had formed only minutes before.
“What you up to on Friday night?”
“What are you offering, girl?”
“I’ve got two days off, but hubby’s tied up, and don’t start on that one. Just me and the littl’un, so wondered if you fancied a meal that evening? Round our place?”
“Ah. How many?”
“Just me and Rhod. And the cat”
“No. How many of us?”
“Charlie and tiff and Gemma not out with their lads?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake! You know who I mean!”
Of course I did, but I didn’t want to go directly to collect £200, etc.
“Um, yeah. Frank, isn’t it?”
“You know bloody well who you meant. Now, the short answer is a no. I am not bringing him along so you can inspect him for any flaws or feel his bumps. What were you thinking of cooking?”
“No bloody idea, to be honest. It’s a Friday, so could just hit the chippy. Hang on… How would you come over? There’s an Italian place not far from the station, if you want a back door”
“Explain”
“Deb, it will by now be obvious I haven’t really thought through details, isn’t it? Yes, I wanted to meet Frank somewhere I can talk to him, but perhaps my front room is a bit too pushy. Restaurant would let him decide where he feels comfortable”
“Yes… Di? Could I be cheeky?”
“Who?”
“Charlie and Seb. Let her see she can be normal, if you take my point. What would you feed Rhod?”
“Pizza, I suppose. Or I could get his rainsuit out, and set him loose on spaghetti, hose him down afterwards”
That brought a laugh, and agreement, and as soon as I put the phone down on her I rang the restaurant. Please let me be doing the right thing.
That Friday came, and I dressed Rhod as neatly as I could, making sure I had my old baby-change bag with me so I could carry a clean shirt for him along with a bilk supply of wet-wipes. I did love my little boy, but it would always be tempered with utter realism. Small boys, cluttered tables, tomato sauce by the gallon. What could possibly go wrong?
We were there before the others, and I had Rhod settled with a bottle of pop and a straw within five minutes.
“Mam!”
“Yes, love?”
“Can we have smelly bread?”
“Smelly bread?”
“With the cheese string and green bits!”
Deb spoke over my shoulder. I hadn’t spotted their arrival.
“Do you mean garlic, Rhodri?”
“My Mam calls me Rhodri. When she thinks I’ve been bad. Mam, what’s garlic?”
“What they put on bread to make it smelly, son. Hiya, you lot! Rhod, this is your Aunty Deb, and that’s her friend…”
I lifted an eyebrow to the older man, who clearly understood, smiled and took the hint.
“Hello Rhod. I am Uncle Frank, this is Aunty Charlie, and Uncle Seb”
“You’re not my uncle. I only got one uncle and he’s Uncle Sean”
Bugger, I thought, and then my boy pulled out his own rabbit of a response.
“Saying you is my uncle, is that mean you are friends of Mam and Dad? Dad’s at work. He’s called Blake Sutton and he’s a plismon, Aunty Lainey says”
Frank laughed out loud, and it was happy, it was warm and, most importantly, it was natural.
“You are a very sensible young man, Rhod. Yes, we are all friends, but saying Aunty and Uncle is being polite. And some people like to hear it. Charlie hasn’t any people to be an Aunty to, so could she be yours?”
“Yes! Smelly bread, Mam?”
That meal’s tone was set, and while I gave him pizza to avoid the laundry work, he did his best at the end of the meal by means of chocolate fudge cake. I should have known better.
What was best, though, best of everything that evening, was the company. I tried not to grill, but I suspect P, P was showing out too clearly. Probably as a result, the younger man sighed and shook his head before grinning.
“I think I know when I am being interviewed, assessed, whatever, Mrs Sutton!”
“Di. Please”
“Di. Me and Frank here, together, isn’t it? Both under the magnifying glass?”
“Not how I meant it, Seb”
“Not really a problem, Di. Frank? You OK if I say a few words? If I go out of line, just say so”
Frank nodded, and Seb turned back to me.
“No secrets at this table, are there? I mean, Deb and Charlie. All over the papers, those trials. Mam and Dad were glued to the story, and, well, you as well, Di? Couldn’t hardly miss it, could I? And Frank, I mean he’s got the other girl, Gemma, working for him. No secrets, right?”
I nodded at him, as he seemed to be waiting some reaction or other, and he continued.
“Charlie and Tiff were always together at college, ever since they began there, and the other lads, they were talking about… Small persons. They were all talking about them liking each other a lot, but it was Jake who saw. He said to me one day, when we were in the refectory, yeah? He says ‘Seb, look at them, they’re not fixed on each other, they’re looking outwards, like meerkats’, and he was right. And just then, Tiff made some rubbish joke, and Charlie here, she gives the most theatrical snort. I thought she was trying to vacuum the room. Honest! Then they both laugh, and Jake says, about Tiff, he says ‘look at the life there’ and… Charlie? You OK?”
She dabbed her eyes with a serviette.
“So you two plotted together, then?”
“No, love. We just saw a couple of girls we realised we should, we HAD to get to know better. And we were right. I know I was, and I think Jake feels the same, Now, it looks like Rhod needs a wash, and even though we don’t have college tomorrow, I wouldn’t mind seeing Charlie home. Just the two of us would be nice. It’s not a warm night, and I think we might be forced to snuggle up together. We’re seeing Jake and Tiff down the waterfront tomorrow. You OK with that, girl?”
A nod, the soppiest of smiles, and she was off, Deb the one to wipe her eyes that time. As the restaurant door closed behind the two young lovers, and that was so clearly the word, Frank turned to me with a grin.
“And I have to follow that?”
CHAPTER 63
I grinned and nodded.
“That a problem, Frank?”
He paused for half a minute, clearly weighing his words as best he could, before looking up and smiling.
“No, not really. Depends on how well you know Deb, I suppose”
He lifted his glass, frowned, and waved at a waiter.
“Could I please have another Peroni? The large bottle? Anyone else?”
We all put our orders in, and he turned back to the table with the smile still holding up.
“As I was saying, it all depends on how well you know this woman. I was working for Tesco when we first met. In-store bakery it was, and that was not what I wanted. Not saying anything too bad about them, but what they do is very prescribed. You bake so many of this loaf, so many of that one, make sure the tiger loaf is racked above the plain cottage so that the light catches it, all that sort of thing. There’s me, fresh out of college, full of ideas…”
He gave his smile to the waiter as his fresh bottle arrived, then turned back to us after filling his glass.
“Like Gemma, isn’t it? She loves to experiment, and it’s not how that word sounds. If you have a feel for how things work, how stuff works in combination, it’s not trial and error, it’s talent. That was how I saw myself, but I was tied to making a living, and that meant baking X number of one type and so on. The deliveries came in, I ended up with new chum’s job of checking delivery note against what was actually dropped off, and I got to know the drivers”
Ah. I risked a raised eyebrow at Deb, and she just nodded, and Frank continued.
“Woman driver, isn’t it? Not exactly common back then, but then she was never common. We chatted, and I started getting the kettle on when a delivery was due. Get them hooked on caffeine, give them a fix. That was my cunning plan, wasn’t it, Deb?”
My friend laughed, dipping her head.
“Never worked with me, though, did it?”
His smile drained away as he nodded slowly.
“No. Not at all, or rather not that I could see, girl. I could never seem to get through her defences. She was never rude, and I always got a smile, but no spark. Just made me more determined, though, so I asked her out. Directly”
Deb’s own laughter barked out.
“Yeah, right! Some idea of a date that was! Di, he only suggested a Dafydd bloody Iwan gig”
I had to laugh at that one, given what I knew of Deb’s background.
“Ha! Could have been worse---could have been Max Boyce!”
Deb’s face screwed up.
“At least you can understand him. Iwan’s all in bloody Welsh!”
Frank smiled again, but it was a wistful one,
“You came out with me, though. Just never again. And don’t try blaming it on Dafydd Iwan, woman. Took me years before I found out why, and by that time I was married and running my own business. Not exactly a safe thing to do, looking up old lady friends”
I had a fleeting thought about Annie, and my sort-of-stalking of her. Given what I now knew, we were incredibly lucky it hadn’t turned into a complete pile of crap and recriminations. Frank sighed.
“I just assumed she had either had a bad experience, or was doing what the Yanks say, carrying a torch for someone. I suppose I was right, in both ways. It was a very long time before I found out exactly how bad that ‘experience’ had been. She still won’t go into details”
I looked down at my boy, reminding myself why life remained worth the effort, before answering.
“Trust me, Frank. I know what went on, and you do not want to know anything more than you do already”
“Yes, Diane. I followed those trials, didn’t I? Did you know that one of those cases, there are at least three books on it? The Elliott one? He wrote one himself, the journalist who got involved did one, and so did the senior copper who kicked the door in. Now, tell me to mind my own business if you want, but I am going to take a guess here: That Cooper person is no longer with us”
I shook my head; saying nothing seemed the safest course just then. Frank stared at me for a couple of seconds, his smile having slipped rather a lot, then sighed.
“I should have expected that, so I will try and stay on safer ground, OK? Anyway. There was me, couple of shops, wife cleared off with some bloody pool boy from The Gambia and all the locks and card PINs changed as soon as I got home from THAT holiday, I will tell you, and Deb rocks up asking for a favour”
He spent a few more seconds on his beer before speaking again, looking down into his glass.
“Things had changed a lot in the years we’d been apart. I mean, we were never actually together, but you catch my drift, isn’t it? I knew who Nana Deb was now, knew what I had been chatting up all those years ago. There she is, and I am telling myself ‘man’ and still seeing ‘girl’, and I mean that word, because it took me straight back to Tesco’s and what should have been a good night out if I had had the sense god gave me, and she just says ’Hello, Frank butt’ and I am caught. I know what she is, and then I realise that I really know, and all the history is just that, and then…”
He smiled down at Rhod, who was working away with crayons at a colouring-in sheet the staff clearly held available for bored children.
“And that’s it, Di. I drop straight into daydream land, she’s going to just smile at me, whatever, and of course she’s closed up tighter than tight. Not letting anything get to you, were you, Deb?”
She dabbed at her eyes with a cotton napkin.
“Couldn’t, could I? Had my girls to protect”
“Yes. Focus, that’s what I thought she was calling it, and it was just displacement. Strangest thing, Diane. There she was, fuelled by hatred and fear, and it comes out as love and protectiveness. Alchemy, isn’t it? Base metal into gold… Anyway, she says hello, still all closed up, and then tells me about Gemma, and I make the right noises and do the right thing, and I have to ask myself what my own reasons are. Am I doing it for Deb, or for Gemma, or for me?”
Deb took his hand, lacing her fingers into his one by one.
“Does it matter?”
He was silent again, as he put his thoughts together, and then smiled.
“You know what? I don’t actually care, now. I have a wonderful pastry chef, baker, whatever she wants to call herself, and I have an old friend talking to me again”
Deb laughed, softly.
“It was after Carl’s funeral, Di. I thought, well, I just thought clearly for once. Two men, yeah? Both of them willing to take time, neither of them pushing at me, and in the end, it was a release. I let go of my Carl… I let go of the one bit of history, the one part of my life I had been clinging to, and I didn’t fall over. So I thought to myself, Deb, after all this, it’s time to live”
She was smiling now.
“So, I went and got two things. One was a stone, and, Frank, Di understands. The other was some info. Then I drove down to the shop, by way of the Norwegian church. One quick splash and then I knocked on his door. I was… little ears. I was nervous. Very nervous, and he opened up, and I said my bit, and he just laughed and said ‘Awright, then!’ and off we went”
Frank was laughing now, and shaking his head.
“Di, it tickled me, it did! Deb had clearly never forgotten, not at all, that utter disaster of a night out, and she gets me sorted out in the right kit, we pile into the van and she drives out to Rumney, of all places, to a church. I am wondering what on Earth, aye? And then I see someone in silly trousers, with a melodeon case, and I realise what is going on”
Deb was grinning now, each of them locked in the other’s gaze till Deb looked back at me.
“Folk club, Di. Got it wrong, though, and it was all in Welsh again!”
Frank pretended to frown and said something of his own in that language. Rhod looked up from his crayons, to my great surprise.
“That’s what Mrs Pugh says!”
Deb leant over the table to wards my little man.
“Does she tell you what it means, Rhod?”
“Yes, Aunty Deb. She says it means we have to learn Welsh!”
CHAPTER 64
That removed any traces of darkness from the table, Frank explaining what he had said as Deb sat chuckling.
“All I actually said, in Welsh, was that you will have to learn it. My family, or what’s left of them, are first language, so they will expect no less. Some of the courtesies, anyway. Rhod?”
“Yes, mister?”
Frank looked at me for permission, as Deb sat with another query clearly bursting to get out, so I held my hand out to her as permission.
“Rhod, Aunty Deb wants to ask something, so this nice man will speak to you after she does. Deb?”
She shook her head to clear it, then looked once more at her friend.
“A lot of assumptions there, Frank”
He shook his head.
“Not at all. I have waited a very long time to be here, like this, with someone I am very, very fond of. We’re both adults, we have both been through the wringer, and with all due respect, we are both in what the Good Doctor called the first flush of late youth. I think I have some good years behind me. I would like to see if the best ones are still ahead. So, girl, no assumptions from me. Just offers. That is why I am letting Di answer the question about Rhod, but waiting for you to say your bit, Aunty Deb”
She still had his hand, her face dancing through so many expressions and tells I lost track, so I just caught Frank’s eye and nodded. Deb saw, and slowly added her own sign of agreement. Frank turned back to Rhod.
“Little man, I am a friend of your Aunty Deb here. If you want, I can be Uncle Frank Or, you could say it in Welsh, which is ‘ewythr’, but they still say ‘uncle’. Just spell it differently”
Rhod frowned.
“Mrs Pugh says we have to learn Welsh. Is it hard?”
Frank shook his head.
“Not if you start young, Rhod. I am going to help Aunty Deb learn some, so maybe she could practise it with you?”
“Will she bring cakes and stuff again?”
What a mercenary little sod my boy could be! Frank looked back at Deb, a soft smile clearly meant for her, and her alone.
“So, as I said. No assumptions, no agenda, no cunning plan. And no ‘chaser’ here”
That one caught me blindside, and I waited as he weighed his words in consideration to a young man’s age.
“Chasers, Di, are men who show interest in certain types of lady, precisely because of the type they are. Their aim is… intimacy. Intimacy in private. I read a description the other day, and it said something that cut me. These people are desirous of immediate knowledge, little ears, but they… I can’t say this out straight, but the Yanks say ‘dating’, aye? They mean something else, but it’s a useful word here. Dating. Going out with, and the ‘going out’ bit doesn’t happen. So, Deb, my offer is ‘going out with’. Over to you”
She looked down at their linked hands, then at Rhod.
“If I learn Welsh, will you help me get it right”
He grinned.
“Aunty Lainey and Aunty Siân know it as well! Do you like tents?”
“Sorry, Rhod? What about tents?”
“We went in a big tent in a church at Christmas! It was all singing and planes!”
I realised I had better step in, if only to wipe away the confusion.
“Friends of mine, Deb. They’ve got kids as well, plus a lot of other friends, over in England, some of whom are my friends as well, and so on. They took us to a big event this year, at a church in Surrey. Camping in the grounds, but with proper loos and decent food. Some of them are into their music”
Deb laughed, tension breaking at last, but she still had Frank’s hand in hers.
“Not more… Not more folk music, Di?”
I thought about that one carefully.
“Um, sort of. Flute, fiddle, guitar, that sort of thing. Mostly folk, but they did get a bit mad later in the evening”
“How mad?”
“I am told it was stuff by someone called Jethro Tull”
“Oh. I can live with Tull”
“Yes, I thought you might. How about Metallica?”
She sat up straighter at that.
“Metallica? On flute and fiddle?”
“Absolutely. You wouldn’t believe how well it worked. Did you like it, Rhod?”
He was still looking down at his crayons, and his reply was casual in the extreme.
“Yes. It was good. Uncle Eric said Aunty Steph is barking. She wasn’t a dog, though, Mam. And I liked the nest”
I shrugged across the table.
“Lainey and Siân’s two bunked in with him, and we just gave them a big pile of duvets to burrow in”
“Mam?”
“Yes, son?”
“Sassie and Tone said there’s more camping there. In Summer. Can we go when it’s warm?”
My surprise must have shown, because Frank started laughing.
“Who is supposed to be the clever investigating copper here, then? You or the boy?”
Deb caught his mood, and simply said “Yes”
Frank looked at her, eyebrows raised.
“Yes?”
“Yes to going out. And yes to going camping with Rhod. So, I now have to ask Rhod: could Uncle Frank come as well?”
“Can you do music, Uncle Frank?”
Deb turned to appraise her
friend.
“I don’t know, little man. Shall I see if I can find out?”
They left us very shortly after that exchange, with promises of calendar and diary searches, and apart from putting on their coats, Deb didn’t let go of his hand. I kept my words as light as I could, not just for the sake of my old and newer friend, but for my boy. It isn’t a good thing for a small child to see their mother weep, even if it is with happiness.
Work was back to normal after Wildcat’s polite expression of her utterly altruistic concern for canine welfare, but there was a resulting sharper edge to it. We were still running our surveillance operation, but now with a feeling that something was about to break other than the seals on cans of energy drink. I was praying for it to be soon, for while I fully understood Sammy’s good intent in splitting up couples, I missed my bigger man. I loved Rhod to bits, of course, but I was sick and tired of waking to an empty bed, even more so when the shifts worked so that I had also gone their alone.
‘Normal’? What exactly did that word mean for us? Please, Mr Organised Criminal, please do something, anything. Just do it soon.
More greasy bacon sandwiches. More sitting quietly as Alun described how the illness was taking his wife away from him, and I heard on the grapevine that a sleeping bag had disappeared from a certain room. He was breaking up as I watched, and there was sod all I could do, until a thought struck me one early evening as I sat in Costa’s with Deb and a hot chocolate waiting for Rhod to come back from the toilet (“I am not a baby, Mam!”).
He would always be my baby, though. He had prattled onto Deb about his new obsessions, his big-boy-not-a-baby’s top lip bearing a chocolate moustache. Welsh and camping; I realised we would end up back in the places Dad knew so well, and wondered if three generations of Big Boys would fancy a holiday in Snowdonia.
That was the moment inspiration struck. I held onto the thought so it could breathe and grow, spending a little while on the internet that evening before picking up the phone, Rhod safely in bed. It only rang a couple of times before it was picked up.
“Hello, can I help you?”
“Hiya, Lainey!”
“Di! You not on ops tonight? Thought you lot were all tied up, secret squirreling again”
“Speaks Bilbo Baggins sneaksy Powell! You taught us well, remember?”
“Well, you were apt pupils, as that book said, aye? Anyway, you don’t ring up at this time unless you want the boy to be safely in bed. What’s up?”
Too sharp by far.
“Your two have wound him up. On about camping and speaking foreign, isn’t it?”
“It’s not bloody foreign, woman!”
She said something in Welsh that sounded almost like the phrase Frank had come out with, and Rhod had recognised as one used by his teacher.
“What does that actually mean, Lainey?”
“You need to learn Welsh, and don’t say ‘just tell me’, because that is exactly what it means. Mae’n… never mind. Someone else say that to you?”
“yes, Deb’s new man, Frank, and apparently his teacher”
“Makes sense from the teacher, aye? Hang on. Deb? New man?”
“Yes. Long story, really; someone she has known for years, but because of---no breaking confidence here, but you know who she is, what she is, isn’t it?”
An absolutely flat “Yes”, then a deep sigh.
“Di, love, you know about my little sister Sar, don’t you?”
“Hard not to, really, given our taste in mutual fucking friends”
“Rhod is indeed safely in bed, then. Sarah’s story was like Deb’s, in a small way, it seems. Well, not small: vital, really. You’ve met Tony. They met years ago and had a long while apart. See what I mean?”
I will have to break myself of the habit of nodding agreement to a phone handset.
“I take your point. Not really Deb I’m calling about, though”
“Stay with her for a second, though. Is he sound, this man?”
“I think so. I also don’t want to get pushy with them. Let them find their own way”
She barked out a laugh.
“You are so unlike Sarah, then. She can never keep her nose out! What was it you wanted to ask, then?”
“Your two were nattering with my boy about camping and Welsh”
“You said, aye?”
“Well, he says he wants to go again, where the planes are, and when it’s warm, and I hear that your friends do a similar event in the Summer”
“Yes. It’s a bit different from the Christmas one”
“Er, obviously. Should be a bloody sight warmer, for starters!”
“No, Di. I mean yes, aye? But there’s more. It’s mostly outdoors, and it’s a community thing. They set up a dance floor in that big space by the church. Steph started it off, really”
“The barking one? Not my description, honest, though I don’t exactly disagree with it. Eric’s word, of all people. Rhod heard him, and of course discretion glands are a bit unformed at his age. Talk me through it?”
To my surprise, she was absolutely silent for a few seconds before a clearly audible and very deep intake of breath and sigh.
“Di, Steph started it up, or at least had a major hand in things with her hubby and the vicar. It started with a murder. Trans woman, aye?”
“Ah. Not…?”
“Yes, girl. One of Annie’s. One of the very nastiest, and I would rather not go into detail. Poor woman is buried in the churchyard. It started out as her funeral, and then Simon the vicar asked if it could be annual, aye? Done as a charity fund raiser. He does the usual collection stuff for the Christmas one, and that is usually local, but the Summer one tends to be a bit more specific. Local kids’ support group to one of Pat’s ideas, a facial surgery charity, aye? Always a point to be made, and Simon makes it well. What are you after?”
“A word with him first, if I can. See what he thinks of an idea I had”
“Got a pen handy?”
She rattled off a number for me.
“I trust you on this one. Something you’re not telling, but as I said, I trust you. Give Merry and him our best, please”
CHAPTER 65
“St Nicholas’ church. May I help you?”
A woman’s voice, with a strong West Welsh accent. That would be the vicar’s other half then.
“Miriam Jenkins?”
“Speaking. Do I know you?”
“Diane Sutton. I was over at Christmas, with the Powells. With my husband and little boy”
“Would that be the very big man… Sorry. I sometimes fail to think properly before I speak. There are many big men in our circle. Was he the little one who slept with Elaine and Siân’s two? Um… Roderick?”
“Close! Rhodri. My husband and I, Blake that is, we are colleagues of Elaine’s, based in Cardiff”
“Yes! I remember you now. You were that very old friend of my cousin, am I correct?”
“That’s me. I have known Annie a long time”
“I suspect not, Diane. I suspect you have only known her a short while, as have we all. I also feel you have things to tell about Adam-as-was, no?”
I couldn’t help it and started laughing.
“Guilty! There I am, ringing up to ask a favour, and you have me bang to rights in ten seconds. Are you sure you don’t do my job?”
There was real warmth creeping into her voice.
“I know who you are now, my dear, and yes, Annie has spoken of you. You avoided a major error only by a narrow margin, I believe”
I knew immediately what she meant, and to my surprise I realised I was blushing at the memory.
“Um, yeah. Asking them out would have been… I think that the best description I can come up with is ‘complicated and confusing’, if you see what I mean”
“Oh, yes indeed. You made an impression on dear Eric as well, you know. I… When I first learned of Annie’s delivery from pretence, I was more than reassured by the discovery that she had true friends in England, people who loved and cared for her and stayed true to her throughout the horrors that she endured. I now know that she had others in our own country, just as strong. I thank you, Diane”
“Oh, no need for that!”
“There is always need to say thank you, my dear. Her son Darren is most insistent on that one! Anyway, on to a more pressing matter, and that is the reason for your call. My beloved is in the next room, so I will explain who you are, and then leave him with you”
Which is exactly what she did.
Four days later, I was sitting once more with an ever-scruffier Alun in an unmarked car in Merthyr, wondering if I could actually face another bacon roll from the usual source. Given the sleet slithering down the car’s windows, the answer was going to be in the affirmative. I was bored out of my skull, to be honest, as the lousy weather kept our targets indoors and out of sight, and there had been no vehicle movements in or off plot apart from the Yankpanzer belonging to what we assumed was the main man, one Ivor Geoghan. I was sinking deep into apathy when my mobile rang.
“DC Sutton”
“Ten days’ time, copper, on the Saturday night. Their own dogs will be there on the Monday”
Click. I searched for caller ID, but of course there was none, and whatever phone Wildcat Rosie had used would have been what they call a burner. Cheapest possible ‘pay as you go’, to be trashed immediately after the call.
Shit. I rang Sammy.
“Yes, Di?”
“Just got the word. Dogs come in this coming Monday and the event is the Saturday after, no word on timing”
“Right. Pull out now; I will call your relief. See you back here soon as. I take it this was ‘a spokesman did not say’ call?”
“Exactly”
“Right. I will get someone to do a snacks run. We are going to be busy”
I turned to my partner.
“Got the gist of that, mate? Sammy wants us back straight away”
He simply nodded, started the car and got us quickly onto the road back to Cardiff. I tried to bump start a conversation into life, but it wouldn’t take. He drove, silent and doing his best to look absorbed, but we moved reasonably smoothly, though the Valleys roads are never exactly accommodating for ‘making progress’, as my driving instructors called it. Alun took us down to Pontypridd, and then along Northern Avenue before we had a stop-start through the Centre. A quick buzz, and we were in the yard, then past Custody to our grandly-named ‘operations Centre’. The urn was already hot, and a selection of rolls, crisps and biscuits was awaiting our attention.
No Blake. Sammy caught my eye, shaking his head.
“I let him know, but left him to look after the lad. You can brief him yourself, mate. You are the first contact on this one, yet again. You’ll get a reputation, if you don’t watch out!”
The ride with silent Alun must have put me more out of sorts than I realised, and the words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them.
“Last bastards that got me a reputation are banged away with the rest of the nonces…”
Breathe. P, P.
“Sorry, Sammy. Bit tense with all this heating up”
“No problem, Di. Team here, aye? Anyway, most of us are. Let’s get the word from the horse’s, OK?”
Thank you, mate. He never failed to astonish me, and delight me, with his calm and clear-sightedness. As I dug myself back into my calm place, he pulled out a couple of flip chart stands, each showing a variety of maps and photos of the warehouse units we had spent to long targeting. Once they were arranged to his satisfaction, he stepped out in front of them.
“Not going to say ‘Boys and girls’ now, am I? Elaine Powell cornered the market in that one. Anyway, Di is going to give us the SP, and hint, hint, mate, start from the beginning. These charts: they are not to be left out unattended, not in line of sight from the door. That Evans case showed we had some insiders, and I don’t want to risk that one again. Di?”
“Um, right. Thanks, Sammy”
I turned toward the team. Breathe slowly, DC Sutton.
“You know what we’re looking into, so it’s sorry, Sammy, I won’t go that far back. Dog fighting is our main offence suspected here, but there will be a range of other crimes involved. Unlicensed drinking establishment, ditto betting, probably the usual mix of Class A and B drug use and probably supply. The animals themselves are highly likely to be in contravention of the dangerous dogs legislation, and that leads to warning number one: fighting dogs fight”
I cast a quick glance towards Lexie.
“No heroics with these animals. We will have dog handlers with us, as well as firearms officers. If the animals can’t be contained, they will be removed. Sorry again, Sammy, but I am making assumptions here. If I have it wrong?”
“Fine so far, mate”
“Ta. Their MO is a bit complicated. I am told the dogs fight better if they feel they are on their own ground, so the organisers bring their own charges down early to settle them into the place, make them feel at home. We need to keep a very light touch, just spot their arrival and pull out again”
Once more, I slowed my breathing. This was actually making me far more tense than had dragging arseholes from vans.
“We are now in receipt of very specific information regarding dates and times. The home team animals are due to arrive this coming Monday. The following Saturday is show time. That is all I am able to say safely. Sammy?”
He patted my shoulder as he stepped forward, the turned to the team.
“Thanks, Di. I have been taking advice on this one, and those with experience in this particular method of being antisocial bastards inform me that we are most likely looking at ten dogs max. Yes, Jon?”
My boy looked puzzled.
“Not trying to be a smartarse, and shut up Candice before you say anything, but ten doesn’t work. Four, eight, sixteen, that sort of thing. Like a football league, with heats, semis and so on?”
Our boss winced, his head shaking unconsciously until he caught himself doing it, and he then drew a couple of long, slow breaths of his own.
“I take your point, mate, but it isn’t like that. Sometimes, in what you might call the amateur game… No. I am not going to do it to you. I saw several packs of photos of what happens in these fights, happens to the dogs, that is. There are no heats, no semis, no grand final. The dogs are in no state for more after the first fight they are in. My turn to confess, and that is a simple one, that I have other sources of information. Need to know, but…”
He looked a little ill now.
“Dog fights rules, OK? The dogs go at each other till one turns away, and that’s the win. Both dogs get ripped about, but they can be treated. Torn ears, a few bites, messy as hell, but as soon as the losing dog literally turns tail, the winner’s owner pulls his dog off. What I have been told about our main suspect is that he is interested in, and is offering, rather more than that. Simply put, one dog goes under and the owners let it continue. Real fucking gladiator thumbs-down shit. That was what I saw in the pictures I do not wish to show you, and it leads us into our problem of balance. We have to let things go on long enough for it to deliver convictions. That means we are highly likely to find ourselves with some dead dogs. That is why, just this once, if anyone feels they can’t handle it, they can take a night off. No shame, no come-back. Anyone? Show a hand if so”
He waited ten seconds or so, as all our hands stayed down, then sighed with evident release and relief.
“Thanks, mates. You make an old copper proud. Ellen, please draft us a rota for static and mobile obs teams on Monday. Then all of you, off home. Briefing Monday morning at 0900 and then see what we pick up. Rest of the week, chill, file, make-work, whatever. I will sort the rest with Bev Williams and the other brass, so please get some you-time. I don’t want to see you during the rest of the week, but keep your phones on”
CHAPTER 66
We were back up in Merthyr by Monday lunchtime. Sammy had already briefed, within limits, the CCTV operators, and Jon and Lexie were tasked to spend the rest of the day sitting on folding chairs in the control room watching the screens. My aversion to a certain greasy spoon seemed rather lightweight compared to the hell of boredom that awaited them, but at least they would be in the warm. As for us, I had a flask of hot chocolate, Alun one of coffee, and I had made sure I had fitted a trip into Frank’s/Gemma’s place on the Saturday. We were well prepared.
No need for bacon sandwiches, or so I kept telling myself. The weather was utterly crap again, and I was glad of a chance to stay in the car. The heating made it a little stuffy, though, even after we had turned everything off. Warm the car up, then turn the ventilation off with the heating. Not a comfortable place.
“Di?”
“Alun?”
“That the Volvo again?”
“Um… yes. Sun shades up at the rear windows. I think we could be on. Watch the back while I get the camera… Got it. See anything?”
“Looked like a box or a cage in the back. Kiddy sunshades on the rear side window”
“Yeah, and like that’s a good look in this bloody weather. Hang on while I zoom in on these…”
I fiddled with the digital zoom on the picture, praying I’d got the damned thing sufficiently in focus, and the image contracted onto the rear window of the estate car, and there it was. What passed for daylight had clearly caught a pair of shining eyes and a mouthful of teeth around a lolling tongue. A dog. I started on my notebook entry just as Alun alerted me to a second and third Volvo estate, each with the rear load area obscured by the sort of cartoon-themed detachable sunshades used to keep children cool in cars on hot days, which that one certainly wasn’t. I wasn’t so lucky with the camera that time, but each of the estates had a similarly square shape in the back. I picked up my phone and scrolled to ‘P’.
“Patel!”
“Di. Got at least three so far. Volvo estates, each with what looks like a dog cage in the rear. Positive sight and snapshot of a set of pointy teeth in the first one”.
“Get out then, mate. See you back here soon as, and we’ll start drafting the briefing. Any chance of a walk past before you get rolling?”
“I’ll give it a go. Weather’s bad enough I can keep my hood up. What do you want?”
“Siting of the Volvos. Fire doors are at left of the main building as you look from the gate, I believe?”
“Yes”
“Then just a quick eyes-on of where the cars are standing. They’ll be using those doors for access rather than the front roller doors. Then get away, OK?”
“Wilco, Sammy. Shouldn’t say this, but we’ve still got some pastries left”
He laughed. “Eat them before you come in, or I will! Shout when you’re a few minutes off, and we’ll do a dog and bacon roll run to the Greasy, OK? I am going to have a quick word with the fresh meat in the control room, so wait until you see one of the cameras nod before you walk”
I gave Alun the summary, then squirmed round in my seat as I fitted my Bluetooth buds into my ear and dialled his number.
There. Just a hint of movement, but clear enough. Don’t look at the cameras as you walk, DC Sutton. I popped the passenger door, and the wind almost pulled it from my hand. Out, hood up, start walking as Alun’s breathing hissed in my ear. There was a little newsagent about fifty yards after the gates, and I headed there, hood drawcords cinched tight to my head and the rain beating into the jeans I was wearing.
Bloody windy, cold and wet. They would want the dogs into the warm as soon as they could,
Past the barred gate, head down, corner of the eye taking in what it could, and fuck that was a big dog. Keep walking, woman, keep it steady.
“Dog sighted. Walking on”
Into the little shop, bell dinging as I went in, an elderly woman in a cardigan behind the counter and more variety of porn on display than I had seen in years, everything from ‘Asian Housewives’ to a magazine whose cover seemed to promise a world where lingerie was made only for women in excess of twenty stone in weight. Sod P, P, I had to ask, as I spotted and grabbed the latest edition of Private Eye. I got it on subscription, but never mind.
“Two pound, love”
“There you go. Awful day”
“Aye. Anything else?”
“No ta. Just a question. I might be a bit, lived a sheltered life, isn’t it, but I thought all the porn had gone onto the internet stuff. Couldn’t help noticing, aye? All the mags?”
She laughed in the horrible way heavy smokers do, that sound of bubbles bursting through a gallon of something sticky and revolting.
“Better than it used to be, love. Wrappers on them now, with stuff on to cover up the worst bits. Anyway, internet? Lads who work round here like to read on the job”
She caught something in my look, and laughed again.
“No! Not while they’re working. While they’re doing their other business. Can’t fold a laptop up under your jacket when you want a quick one in the gents’, can you?”
A third laugh, the relish in it making it even more disgusting.
“Wishing you hadn’t asked now, aren’t you? Want a bag to keep that dry? Got some old ones under the counter”
“Please!”
I scurried back to the car, one more flick of my eyes through the gates picking up the ‘Yankpanzer’ now standing next to the Volvos, tailgate down. Wildcat’s warning had been spot-on.
Into the car, hood down, phone off.
“Alun, mate, I do not want to spend any more time in this place!”
Bye, bye Merthyr, at least until Saturday.
All of the team were waiting when we got in, and a phone call from near the City Hall had secured the promised hot food. Alun and I had decided on generosity, team spirit, or stupidity, and left several of Gemma’s finest in the box for the others, and as I got outside a far better bacon roll than I had ever had at Tony’s Diner, Sammy did the summing up.
“We all know what we’re looking at by now, so Di, Alun? Tell us what we have”
I swallowed the chunk of warmth I had just bitten off and looked round the room, just as Blake entered.
“Dot’s got the boy, love. What’s occurring?”
“Right… Alun spotted the first of four vehicles so far, and they are all known to us already. Three Volvo 800 series estates, one Warrior four by four. All three of the estates had the load space windows obscured with child sunshades, the sort that fixes to the inside of the glass with suction cups. We could make out a large and square object in the back of each of them, and as the first one went past us, I managed to get a snap. Candice, could you just warm up the standalone and put this up for us?”
I handed her the camera’s memory card, and once our ‘odd material’ testing computer was running, she brought the image onto the screen.
There were several hisses as breath was drawn in sharply. Looking at those teeth on the camera’s little display was bad enough; the larger screen made it ten times worse.
“Once all three Volvos were in, I walked past to buy a magazine at a shop a little way past the gates, and when I came back the Warrior four-wheel-drive was in place, tailgate down. I didn’t see anything more on that pass, though the fire door was open. When I walked past on the outward run, one of the dogs was just being taken into the shed. I am going to say, quite simply, that it probably weighed as much as my hubby there. Mastiff or some cross-bred derivative, at a guess”
Sammy was grimacing.
“Jon? Lexie?”
My boy looked at the young woman, her hair still short and untidy after the horrible events on the Cowbridge road, and she waved him on.
“Um, yes, Di. We got you and Alun on plot, and all four vehicles entering. Discs saved, of course. Couldn’t get a clear view of the dogs, but, yes, there were four taken in, various sizes, but nothing small”
He looked over to our boss.
“What’s the plan, Sammy? How do we time it?”
Neither feral nor cheeky was visible just then. Sammy was clearly not a happy policeman, and I couldn’t work out why. Everything had gone smoothly, thus far. We had the venue, we had the organiser, we had the booze deliveries, we even had four of the presumed fighting dogs confirmed as being on plot, but something was not sitting comfortably in his mind.
He stood up abruptly.
“Candice, can I have that memory card? Settle down, write your notes, get the package finalised, and relax. I am off for a word with Bev Williams. And leave me one of those apricot things”
CHAPTER 67
That night, as with so many others, I lay with my husband trying to sort the day out while taking so much comfort from the simple fact of his presence beside me. Sammy’s moodiness was niggling away at me, however, so my relaxation was nowhere near absolute.
“Penny for them?”
I chuckled at that one.
“Clichés now, love?”
“OK. What is up?”
“Oh, it’s Sammy, isn’t it? Something not right with him, and I am wondering if there’s something else going on”
“With the Merthyr job?”
“Don’t know, love. I mean, he doesn’t really bring his home life to work, does he? Had all sorts of thoughts today, but I don’t think it’s anything like that”
“Yeah. He did get twitchy when he was talking about seeing Bev Williams. I had a thought or two myself, aye? Had a word with Sean, on the quiet”
“Oh? How is he? Time we had him over for a meal again”
“He’s fine. I was actually thinking about a night out, once this one’s over. Round the Smugglers, rather than the Eli, I’d say”
I smiled into his shoulder.
“You are definitely hitting the clichés, love. What did you ask him?”
Blake drew a long, slow breath before letting it out as a sigh.
“Call me paranoid, Di, but this is so different to the other big jobs. Think of the work we had to do just to get the first breaks with the Evans crowd, and that stuff-up with the Culhwch. I had a word with Sean about it being so easy to get into this one, and he laughed at me!”
“Why?”
“Oh, it was in a nice way, but he told me a story… East End of London, aye? Kray twins country, same bloody street they lived in, and they finally knock off the organisers of what the papers call a bootlegging ring and Sean calls thieving, smuggling bastards. One of the organisers has never done a job in his life, not one he ever paid tax on, at least, never run a business, spent all his life on benefits. So they search his house, and in the base of an armchair there’s some money, and they ask ‘What’s this, then’ and he says ‘Mind your own etc’ and ‘Proceeds from my business, isn’t it?’ and that’s the thing: he’s never run any official business, and the cash is in Scottish notes, and it is one hundred and four fucking grand”
“Shit!”
“Aye, and that’s just part of it. He and his mate had a whole string of runners, van drivers, you’ve seen the things, and some of them were going two and three times a day, and they were so cocky they used to wave at the Customs lads as they drove past”
He gathered his breath to him again, and I felt another long sigh.
“They really thought they were untouchable, love. Thing is, they pissed off a lot of Sean’s mates, so every time one of the cocky ones tooted and waved, someone would note his name, number, description of vehicle and what they could see of the load. Trial took two weeks in the end, so many Cussers more than happy to stand up in the Box and reel off hundreds of grins and waves. Main men got eleven years each”
“What are you saying? This lot think they’re Teflon?”
He squirmed round to look me in the face, a wry smile just visible in the faint glow leaking through the curtains from the street lights outside.
“In essence, yes. Geoghegan and the rest, with their Yank four-bys and their big dogs, they think they are the same as the bloody Culhwch, perhaps even as untouchable as some of the Irish lot. I asked Sean what he thought about this being a false front, and he just laughed and told me some more stories. No, love: it’s something else with Sammy. We’ll just have to watch and wait”
Suddenly, he was laughing. All I could do was wait until he had it under control.
“Tell, husband of mine!”
“Oh, sorry, love. Just that money, aye? The hundred and four K? Well, it got the sod banged away for money laundering, and then they seized it all as proceeds of crime, and then…”
I waited for the last of his shakes to end, and he didn’t disappoint me.
“Proceeds of his business, he says, and ‘That’s fine’, the Revenue say, ‘We’ll have forty percent of that in tax, thank you very much, but not from that bundle under the chair because that belongs to the Queen now’. Then the Benefits people come after him for fraud as well. Wasn’t his year at all!”
That left me laughing with him, and eventually we both drifted off, my last memories still of worry about our boss.
The rest of the week passed by all too quickly, Sammy insisting we all take Wednesday and Thursday as reschemed rest days in anticipation of a very full weekend. Saturday morning finally arrived, and a briefing at eleven hundred hours. I hadn’t seen so many coppers in one place since Cwmbran, and there were shoulder numbers from all over the force, as well as from the Gwent lot. It was their turf, after all, and while our unit worked across all Force areas, I suspected that there was more than a little resentment of our ‘poaching’ and probably a tussle for overall control and hoovering up of any kudos while keeping a route open to transfer blame. Nothing changes.
Bev Williams stepped up onto the packing cases arranged at one end of the hall, covered maps behind him, microphone in hand and arm raised for silence.
“Morning all!”
A brief pause to let the laughter drop away, and he was off.
“Our apologies for the cloak and dagger stuff today, but needs must. This is a major operation with some serious objective risks attached, but the target location is containable. Gold Commander in this case will be the Gwent Chief, but his office will be patched through our operations centre as we have the intelligence in situ here. Silver Commander is myself, Superintendent Bevan Williams, and lead Bronze, on the ground, is Inspector Samir Patel, who is over in the corner—make yourself known, please, Sammy? Ta.
“Our Serious Crimes Review Unit has identified a number of illegal drinking establishments whose stock is obtained in the usual way via the white van trade--- no, whoever that was, this is not a bootlegger knock. Much more, I am afraid. The other business here is dog-fighting”
That brought a much more positive reaction from the uniforms, and I noticed what were obviously dog-handlers exchanging angry looks. Bev carried on.
“Acting on information received—well, that is the standard line, but trust me, we have very specific intelligence on this one, as well as the results of both static and mobile observation, and some very specific communications intercepts. Our information is that there will be a fight this evening, and it will be a series of death matches. Dog deaths, that is. To that end, we have allocated Bronze responsibility to specific roles. When this initial briefing is over, there will be secondary unit sessions, for firearms, dog teams, entry team and what I do not want to call ‘support’. We will need consummate teamwork and inter-unit cooperation to ensure this operation does not go down the route politely described as messy. I am sure you all have other words you would prefer to use. Sammy? Your team’s work; please talk us through it”
Bev stepped down, but Sammy stayed off the makeshift podium, pulling the covers off our maps and other info after a quick look towards the door.
“This is who we believe to be the main man, one Ivor Eammon Geoghegan. This is his vehicle, which we will expect to find on site. There should also be a number of Volvo estates and Mazda or similar pick-ups. It will be important to secure those vehicles for forensic purposes, as we believe they are the ones used to transport the dogs”
He grinned, a Cheeky Sammy one.
“Leave the pick-ups in particular for proper recovery, rather than driving them back. Several seem to lack things like insurance, MOT, tax…”
He paused just long enough for someone to raise a hand, most definitely to point out the law re seized vehicles driven by Police Officers, then added his punchline.
“… and working brakes. Now, this is the target site”
Smoothly and efficiently, he ran through a description of the place we had spent so long stagging, listing potential exit points as well as the way in we would be using.
“The gate is full-height, steel grating, with barbed wire on top. We will be removing it in one go with a tow-truck--- no, you with the grin, we will NOT be ramming it. The Big Red Key is useless, so the truck will simply hook on and pull. That leaves us with two other entry points: a door next to the front roller shutter…here. One entry team with the BRK, and then we have the fire doors at the back, which open outwards. Three big lads with crowbars, but extreme caution there. They’ve been using the back door to bring the dogs in, so you might just find yourself face to teeth with a pit bull. FULL PPE will be worn, body cameras on, and I want a dog team and firearms Officers there to first-foot the place. The good thing is that I do not anticipate the door will be locked, for specific reasons. Any sensible questions before your unit Commanders give you your detailed briefings? Yes, you in the front?”
Some sergeant I didn’t recognise, from the Gwent force.
“Inspector, from the way you have described the site we will have zero view on whatever is going on inside. How do we know it is really happening, and what will trigger entry?”
Sammy’s face fell, and I saw the expression that had worried me so much. His sigh was as loud over the PA system as Blake’s had been in my ears.
“Sergeant, that is a very good question, so much so that we actually ran the scenario past a brief from the CPS before we started detailed planning here. There are no suitable ways to observe events inside the warehouse, so we need a positive trigger”
My boss, my friend, looked green, and I saw Candice starting to rise in reflex from her chair to ease his distress, but she caught herself just in time, as Sammy shook himself.
“We brain-stormed it, and there’ll be barking, shouting, people, men, coming out to get rid of used beer against the fence. None of that gives us a dead cert that want we are looking for is going on. For a dead cert, according to the CPS lawyer, as well as an entry trigger, we need a bin liner or whatever. With a dead dog in it”
CHAPTER 68
That was something that I really should have guessed. It was one thing, far from easy in itself, setting up such a complex and personnel-heavy operation, costing such huge sums, no doubt, that Force accountants’ sphincters would be twitching. Actually setting the whole thing in motion would bring similar lower-back problems to the Crown Prosecution Service and the Brass.
What did we have, in the end? Rather a lot of observation data about booze, plus some specific intelligence that we couldn’t possibly divulge. Not a nice place to be in; I really felt for Sammy, and wondered how well Wildcat, in her professed love of dogs, had understood what would be needed when it came to the crunch of big teeth.
Shit. I looked up again, and Sammy was almost back on song. Almost, but still not happy.
“Two of our Officers have identified a site across the road from our target entrance, and they will be plotting up there. Candice? Jon?”
Office Blonde held up a hand to show who he meant, and rose to her feet.
“We have a flat roof with a parapet, which has excellent sight lines on the main gate to the compound. Another of our team has sorted some night-vision equipment, and we have taken advice from the Police Air Support Unit lads re infra-red kit. They will be on call, by the way. And we have this, sourced from my cousin, or rather nicked from his bedroom while he’s in the Canaries”
I had to look twice at the object she was holding before my eyes could make sense of it. The thing seemed to be the result of some unofficial mating between a baton round gun, a small telescope and an angle-poise desk lamp. Candice was grinning in her usual way.
“I absolutely do NOT want to know where the stock came from, but don’t worry: he’s a twitcher, sad little man, with an obsession with bird song and calls. It is a targetable parabolic mike. Sight on top, point it at what you want to hear, and bingo. My spy friends, of whom I have none, talk about lasers on window panes, but sod that stuff. This should let us hear at least what is going on in the compound, and possibly some of whatever noise we get out of the warehouse. I just hope it doesn’t bloody rain while we are lying up there”
Sammy took over again.
“Dedicated radio channels will be in use; unit commanders have a list. CCTV can see the fire door and any bundles coming out, so we have two options for a trigger. Listen in, await a decision. I want as fast an entry as we can get, but above all I want flexibility. Dog handlers, you will all be working with a firearms team, so agree your decision trees and trigger words between yourselves. The animals will not be friendly. Slides six to ten, please?”
The screen lit up as a mixture of my pictures and CCTV stills played, and there were more than a few rude words from the uniform lads.
“Not friendly is an understatement. They will be ramped up on fear and anger and probably blood smells. They may also be doped to push their aggression even higher. I think I have made plain how I feel about dead dogs, but if there is ANY doubt, I want them dropped. Experience in the US has shown it can take several rounds to stop them, so tactical awareness and positioning will be at a premium. If there are any further questions, ask your unit commanders so they can present us with a consolidated list. Now, get something hot inside you and then it will be team briefings”
I wasn’t really in a mood for conversation after that Lancaster of bombshells, and the thought of food wasn’t a comfortable one, so I sat in the locker room for a few minutes to centre myself on P.P as I changed into my old, familiar uniform. Lexie sat opposite me, her expression probably mirroring my own. I tried a smile.
“Should be different this time, love. Where’s Sammy putting you?”
“On the roof, with Candice and Ellen”
I twitched a little, detecting just a little sexism in there, but pushed it down. None of the three were exactly physical types, unlike me, and it made sense in the end. Candice knew the sound rig, the night vision shit was simple to use, and, most importantly, it wasn’t that long since Lexie had actually survived being shot in the head. I smiled.
“Waterproofs, girl. Top AND bottoms, isn’t it? Knowing our luck, there’ll be a great big puddle just exactly where you need to be. Head down, yeah?”
She grimaced, but there was humour there.
“Um, yes. At least I now know absolutely that the helmet works!”
I raised an eyebrow, and she laughed, properly.
“Got the old one back as a souvenir. Keep it next to the bed in case Julia gets a little…”
Her voice tailed off as a blush swept up her face, and I laughed in my own turn.
“Now now, girl! You know this team has rules! No shagging outsiders, isn’t it?”
“Oh, shut up, Di!”
“This the girl from the Smugglers?”
“Yeah…”
“Going OK?”
Sunlight through clouds, her answering smile and nod. I reached across to take both of her hands in mine and squeezed.
“Glad to hear it, love. Now: team briefing? Shall we?”
We eventually left the nick in convoy, vehicles breaking off in ones and twos so as not to look too bad or obvious. The roof team had preceded us by an hour, and I was myself more than happy to find myself accompanied by my two Traffic friends, who spared no banter at all, winding me up all the way to Merthyr. Barry was, as ever, the worst.
“If you drop your stick this time, girl, just shout ‘Fetch!’. You never know. One of the dogs may return it for you”
Bryn was deadpan in his little dig.
“Trouble is, while Fido is fetching, Fang, Brutus and Jaws will be eating your face”
A short pause, and then real concern in his voice.
“Di, love?”
“Yeah?”
“Not like that Transit stop, aye? No charging in? Stay behind us, please. Going to be some right animals there, and not just talking about the dogs, am I? Promise?”
I looked at him, twisted round in the front passenger seat to look at me as Barry drove, almost as smoothly as Blake did. The two had kept me safe so many times, and not just from violence. Away from Evans and Pritchard that time, and away from a dead baby in a car seat. Good coppers, good men, good people: two “of the good ones”, as Mam would say.
“Promise, mate. And I want the same from you two, isn’t it? No silliness!”
Bryn gave a sharp nod, and turned away, the banter at an end. We parked up in some god-forsaken back street in Merthyr, and I settled down into my spare fleece in the back seat as the radio traffic steadily sharpened.
“Bravo One, Oscar One”
Lexie’s voice, a hint of nerves there, but not too bad, considering her last operational outing.
“Go ahead, Oscar One”
“Eyes and ears on and working”
“Understood. What do we have?”
“Two boys at the gate. Conversation clear over the dish”
“Anything useful?”
“Not really, unless you want a rundown of local girls who will drop them for a Bacardi Breezer and a kebab”
Sammy let out a snort of laughter before making the radio rounds of the various team leaders. No hiccups reported, all in position, all sounding bloody tense. I found myself trembling with nerves, hearing that sound in my memory, that thump of a round striking and smashing Lexie’s lid.
Not tonight, DC Sutton. Not at all tonight, not in any way.
“Bravo One, Oscar One”
Tenser again.
“We have movement, boss, or will have in a few. One target is hungry. Shop down the road?”
I pressed ‘send’ immediately.
“Break! Bravo One, Sierra Three”
“Go ahead, Di”
“Lexie, what’s he said exactly?”
“Um, two of them are unhappy with their job. Wet and cold. Shop down the street does usual pasties, steak slices, and they have a microwave. One boy wants a feed and is trying to persuade the other he should do a food run”
“Bravo One, shop is a typical corner shop. Target is right about the food. Could we use that for entry? Leave the truck out of it?”
“Wait one, Sierra Three”
It was more like ‘Wait five’ in the end, but Sammy did come back to us, and I could tell by his tone of voice that it was most definitely Feral in place.
“Oscar One, Bravo One”
“Go ahead, Bravo One”
“Lexie, what can you see of the lock on that gate?”
“Um… huge great chain, looks like. Hang on…”
She was silent for a few seconds, and Sammy carried on with his sitrep.
“Oscars, Sierras: we have a snatch team in place by the shop, two more near the gate. I want a clear word on what the state of that chain is if our boy goes for a food run. If you are unsure, say so. If it is left loose, and you are sure of that fact, I want to know immediately. All understood?”
“Yes yes”
“All units, stand ready and await my word. Lexie, any sound from the warehouse itself?”
“Yes. Not clear, but lots of barking and a steady rumble we think is men shouting”
So many units, so many separate radio channels; Sammy must have been multitasking like a woman just to keep on top of the tactical positions as they evolved. My respect for him went up a dozen more notches.
“Bravo One, Oscar One”
“Go ahead!”
“Food run is on. One boy is leaving now. Wait for update, please!”
An eternity of nothing except an occasional hiss of drizzle on the front window of the car…
“Bravo One, Oscar One”
“Yes!”
“One off to shop. Chain is not secure, so far?”
“Can clearly see chain is loose. Gate is not locked. I say again, main gate is not locked”
“Thanks, Oscars. Stay off net until you see second snatch team. Busy here”
It felt like an hour, as such waits always do, but by my watch rather than my heart rate, Lexie was back on in a couple of minutes.
“Team in position. Sorry, Bravo One—”
“Got it, girl!”
Someone else was talking in the background, someone next to Sammy, and I clearly heard “Go! Go! Go!” before silence came back to my radio. I could imagine the scuffles as two pieces of shit were grabbed and removed in a hurry, and I was feeling even more uncomfortable. What had happened to waiting for a body bag?
Lexie broke silence.
“Bravo One, Oscar One, snatch made, gates shut but unlocked. No sign of a…”
She must have been dreading it as much as Sammy.
“Update. Bag thrown into back of Volvo estate. Three men, back into warehouse. Bastards!”
“Not now, girl. This is Bronze One. All entry teams, GO GO GO!”
CHAPTER 69
Barry was out of the blocks before I could strap in, and as he drove the short distance to the gates, I felt as if I was back in my days riding with him and Traffic. He could drive almost as smoothly as my man when he wanted to, but this was so different. There was venom in his cornering, and I am sure that without ABS the car would have slid to a stop rather than lurch. The boys had already armed up, and once again I was left behind as they burst from the front seats, eyes everywhere. Bryn waved to me.
“Di! On us! Now!
Stay behind, but do NOT fuck off on your own”
The wicket door next to the roller shutter was off its hinges, shouting and barking as loud as a Wales home match, and as uniforms ran past me for the fire door at the rear, I heard a rapid and very loud sequence of four bangs, just as the roller door began to rise. Barry was muttering, but I could still hear him clearly.
“Shit! Hope that was a dog”
Bryn rushed forward to the edge of the door, weapon poised, and took a low stance where the lock had been, before waving Barry forward. He took it at a rush, followed a clear second later by Bryn, and then I thought ‘Shit!’ and shook out my asp. Move now, girl. Close up on them, DC Sutton!
As Bryn entered, a man came rolling out from under the rising shutter. Something in his hand…
I laid my asp across his forearm, the machete flying free as Barry’s incredibly long arm reached under the edge of the still-rising door to snag the bastard’s ankle. I took the other leg from under him with a kick, but lost my balance, only just managing to strike him across the back of both thighs as he recovered and went past me. It got very confusing for a while, but I managed, god knows how, to tumble onto my feet and catch his legs again.
“Get down now!”
Still fucking moving, the bastard! Just as I dropped my right knee onto his shoulder to stop his scramble for the weapon, Bryn appeared again, hands full of yellow plastic.
“MOVE! TASER! TASER! TASER!”
The barbs struck just as the bastard’s hands got to the handle of the huge knife, and then he was convulsing under the force of fuck knows how many volts. I stayed clear, securing the knife, as two Gwent boys arrived to secure the new prisoner. Cuffs on and dragged off at a fair clip, Bryn grinning at me with savage glee.
“Managed to hang onto it this time, then! Breathe for a second; Bronze for the entry teams wants us outside for now. Containment, aye? They’ve got it tied down inside, but they keep getting runners”
He paused, looking away for a heartbeat before locking his eyes on mine.
“You really won’t like it in there, Di. It’s under control now, but it’s not pleasant. One dog’s down, but some of the others are in shit state. Hang on… your radio knackered?”
“What? Oh! Earpiece is broken. Hang on…”
I pulled the useless earphone jack out, and Sammy was suddenly loud and very clear.
“All units, Bravo One. I say again, all support units remain outside warehouse. Entry teams will process and deliver prisoners. Be aware of any attempts to run. Expect ambulances shortly. Vets are on their way to deal with other casualties. Oscar One?”
“Send, Bravo One”
“Warehouse roof, Lexie. Watch for climbers”
“All understood, Bravo One. Listening out”
I switched off so as not to broadcast everything to the whole world, and found my hands starting to shake as I hooked the rig back onto my ballistic vest.
My two friends were conversing very quietly as the first of a multitude of men started to come out of the wrecked door, along with a few women, one of whom spotted me as a fellow wife, mother, fucking nurturer and delicate soul, et bloody cetera, and sealed our bonds as representatives of the fairer sex by spitting on my stab vest.
Bryn watched my reaction from his semi-kneeling position to one side of the doorway, and shook his head at me.
“Di, don’t go hyper. Spit kit, and centre yourself. Messy bit’s over now, so get your good coppering head back on. Just weigh and pay now, OK? Once the bulk of them are taken away we’ll sweep the inside and… go ahead!”
A few seconds of silence.
“On way now! Barry, mate? Di! With us, stay low!”
We left the compound at a rapid trot, crossing the blue-lit chaos of the main road just as a window blew in on one of the carriers. Oh fuck!
Down a side street, turn right. An extending ladder against a wall, Bryn floating up it, Barry almost as quick. I made it in time to be hauled over the edge of the roof and pushed into a prone position by one of them, I couldn’t see which. Barry’s voice was terse.
“Stay down, Di. What we got, Lexie?”
The younger woman’s voice was shaky, and as the shouts rose from across the street, and another loud bang went off, I understood.
“Candice has eyeballs on, Barry”
“Fine. Stay down, love. Candice?”
“Flat roof, mate. Array of roof lights, skylight things. Four by three pattern. Twat is by the second one on the left as you look at it and count away from us. Hang on…”
I could just make Office Blonde out, silhouetted against the glare of the streetlights, which meant that she would be covered by the darkness of the side street if what was clearly a man on the warehouse roof looked our way, thank god. Candice was fiddling with what I suddenly realised was the parabolic mike thing. A little speaker…
BANG. Tinny, but clear: “Fuck off you cunts! Fuck my fucking business, shoot my fucking best dog, eh? Cunts! Fucking come up here and see how you like fucking bleeding!”
BANG.
Barry wriggled forward to the parapet. His voice was soft, almost dreamy in its calm delivery.
“Let me have a look, girl. Please”
Candice slithered backwards as Barry took the night vision glasses. Still soft, still as calm as a mother’s bedtime story.
“Got him, Bryn. Call in for me; no spare hands here, and I don’t want to risk reflections”
“OK, mate. Bravo One, Bravo One, Tango Three”
“With Oscar One now. Tango Four has eyes on. I am relaying to avoid showing out. Barry?”
“One male… Ah. Looks like a hunting rifle. Not a two two. Bolt action”
“One male, bolt action rifle, larger than two two, so far”
“Shit. He’s got a box with him. Think it’s ammunition”
Bryn swore, shaking his head.
“Target appears to have boxed ammunition with him, so far”
He was silent for at least thirty seconds.
“All understood. Listening”
He turned back to Barry.
“Sammy’s going to try and talk to him. Believed to be Geoghegan himself. Getting another team onto the next roof over, see if we can scare him down”
BANG. Still so calm, my Barry.
“Bryn, we can’t justify taking him down. He’s just shooting up vehicles”
“Thank fuck for that, mate. How do we sort it, though?”
“I am sure Sammy has ideas. He’s a sneaky fucker”
“IVOR GEOGHEGAN!”
The loud hailer was certainly that, and I was glad the listening device was pointed away from it. Sammy’s voice was recognisable through the distortion.
“Ivor, what are you hoping for? There is nowhere to go. Why risk yourself?”
“Fuck off, copper!”
As Sammy kept talking, and Geoghegan kept shouting stupidities, Bryn was listening intently.
“Bravo Three, Tango Three. With Tango Four at Position Six. All understood. Awaiting your word”
He patted Barry on the boot.
“Scope down, mate. Can you get a shot on?”
Barry finally lost a little of his unnatural calm.
“Shit, mate, really? Really?”
“No, mate. No. They are getting a team in position to access the roof, but they want him disarmed first. Be ready to red dot him. No shot, just light him up. Candice, you OK with the night vision stuff? We’ll need to be set. No spare hands, aye?”
I looked across at the others, only now realising that Ellen was holding Lexie to her as they lay flat on the felted surface. Poor kid; what was she seeing in her mind’s eye just then? Bryn whispered to her.
“Lexie, love. We are going to need your help in a minute. That OK? Barry and I will have our hands full, and Candice will be on the starlight scope. We need someone to talk to the boss for us. We can hear him, but we don’t want to have to move and show out to Geoghegan. You up to it?”
A last squeeze from Ellen, and my girl twisted in place, as Sammy’s voice continued to duel politely with two more bangs.
“With you now, Bryn”
“Thanks, love. Appreciated. Can you let Bravo Three know that Tango Three and Four have sights on and possible shots?”
“Bravo Three, Oscar Two”
She took a deep breath as she listened.
“Tango Three and Tango Four have sights on and possible shots”
Pause.
“Boys, await signal. On command red dot the target. Air support will be overhead shortly”
A longer silence, as the helicopter’s roar and slap emerged from the background noise and Sammy kept doing his best to cajole and persuade. Finally…
Lexie hissed “Light him up now!” as Sammy’s voice rose.
“Six red dots on you, Ivor! Can you see them? Can you dodge them all? STAND UP NOW! PUT THE WEAPON DOWN! ARMED POLICE! LAST WARNING!”
A searingly bright light seemed to explode on the rooftop as the beam from the chopper’s searchlight struck it. Candice jerked, throwing the night vison goggles behind her.
“Fuck! Give me some warning next time!”
Bryn didn’t have the calm that Barry held to him so well.
“Lexie, weapon is down!”
Sammy:
“WALK BACKWARDS! KEEP MOVING! KNEEL DOWN! HANDS IN THE AIR!”
Bryn rose to his feet with a sigh, turning to help Lexie up before pulling her into a hug.
“Boys have got him now. Well done, love. Barry? Mate? It’s OK now”
The big man rose so slowly I thought he must have hurt himself, standing head bowed for a few seconds.
“Bryn, mate? I really thought I would have to follow through, aye?”
His friend pulled him into the hug he was sharing with Lexie, and they stood in silence for just a few minutes before they all disengaged, and we started the process of clearing our stuff from the roof. Down the ladder, across the road, looking at the holes in two of the carriers and trying not to see the rounds responsible as having struck helmets, or bodies, or Paula.
Sammy was waiting for us, and his grin was neither cheeky nor feral. It was Official.
“Lexie?”
“Yes?”
“A question, yeah? Black bag? Volvo estate? That wasn’t true, was it?”
“Um, wasn’t it?”
She darted a look at Candice, who shrugged.
“Problem, Inspector Patel?”
I started to move towards the warehouse door, and Bryn took my arm.
“No, Di. You don’t need to see in there. Sammy? You want us to piss off for a bit?”
The Official grin slipped a bit as Sammy took a better look at the two Firearms Officers.
“Di, got a hanky for Barry? Ta. Dry your eyes, mate. No shame. No shame at all. Go and unload, and I’ll shout you a pint when we get time. Candice?”
“Yes, Inspector?”
“You were the eyes on, weren’t you? Lexie just passing on messages?”
“Yes, Inspector”
“Black bin liner. Back of a Volvo estate? Only bin liner we found was full of cans and cigarettes carton sleeves, and it was in a skip, not a Volvo!”
“Well, skip, Volvo, same thing, aren’t they? Anyway, look at my hair! Is it not blonde?”
She struck a stupid pose, then dropped it.
“Got us in, didn’t it?
Suddenly, Sammy’s tension broke, and his grin was a new type: Relieved.
“Fuck me! How could I not love this bloody team?”
CHAPTER 70
We made our way back to Central in convoy, some of the vehicles peeling off to deposit their prisoners at other nicks, the numbers being rather too big for one Custody Suite to hold. I was glad to be able to get rid of all the Personal Protective Equipment that had been weighing me down. I am not a small girl, nor exactly chest-heavy, but I am sure the designers of the ballistic vest were either misogynists playing a nasty joke, or simply nerds with no concept of what a woman’s body actually looked like. Bloody uncomfortable things.
Sammy left us all alone for about two hours as statements were completed, and once that necessity was finished, those of us in Central were called into their canteen, one of the few places big enough for the numbers involved. I managed to find a seat, but others were left perched on the thankfully cold serving counters. Just after the doors were finally closed, Bev slipped in.
“Don’t worry. Not going to start with ‘Evening all’, OK? I will simply say thank you. That was a solid, professional performance, in particular by the entry teams. We have minimal casualties, both human and canine, and more than enough evidence of criminality to keep the CPS happy. I am informed that the heavy lifting has been completed, or nearly so, which means that we will be leaving the resulting grind to CID, CPS and Custody staff. I will be making an official statement in the morning to keep the reptiles of the Press happy,
“Gwent: I am so sorry to leave you with the clearing up on site, but it is your turf. Bribery and corruption of the right sort, however, may persuade South Wales to offer some help. You will also have assistance from HMRC, as there appears to be rather a lot of illicit alcohol and tobacco in situ, and they seem quite keen to transfer it to their own storage. RSPCA are working wonders with the animals, the canines that is, so we can actually see an end to the physical work in this case.
“Quick summary, TL/DR as my kids say: thank you all. That was a difficult and complex job, executed professionally and effectively, with minimal casualties and, despite the final events, no deaths. Go home, relax, and feel proud. Thank you all, once more”
He tried to slip away, but it was a slow process, as so many people of all ranks were there to shake his hand. I spotted Sammy waving to me, and then saw my team gathering round him. I struggled through the moving crowd to join them.
He was Cheeky Sammy, just then, the grin warm, but I could tell Feral was lurking just behind the mask.
“Quick debrief, mates. Got a room down the corridor. Then I have a proposal”
Out of the canteen, a short walk, and then a small room full of the usual impedimenta of office work, somebody’s dirty cup still half-full of tea.
“Right, you lot! We all know what went on, and we know what little games were played, so I am not going to play Heavy Boss on this one. Candice?”
“Yes, oh mighty leader?”
“Not now. Don’t do that again, aye? Just us in here, no official telling off, and I really, really appreciate what you did. I was shitting myself that we would have to see a dead animal before the bloody shysters would give us their nod, but you disobeyed a very direct and specific order”
Candice started to rise from her chair, but Sammy waved her to sit down again.
“No, love, not my point, is it? Just us in here, and I trust all of you, so I am speaking honestly. No bullshit, not this time. The real issue is not that you played fast and loose to avoid the nasties, but that you left an audit trail, as they say. Next time, though I am hoping there won’t be, don’t be so specific about what the fuck you DIDN’T see, aye? Don’t give so much detail. If there isn’t a Volvo estate there…”
His smile dropped, and was replaced by concern.
“Lexie, your statement is nice and simple. You merely reported what you were told. Candice, I have yours here. If you have a few minutes, we need to work through it. It needs to be clearer about both what you really saw, as well as explicit on how you interpreted it. When I say ‘clearer’, I mean ‘vaguer’. You can’t say ‘Put it into a Volvo estate car’, because there wasn’t one. You need to say something like ‘A dark rectangular shape I assumed to be a car’. Got me?”
She nodded sharply, no blonde games just that once, and I really felt for both of them. Cheeky Sammy didn’t come back, but Warm Sammy did.
“Mates, I made a very quick call earlier, and I have a suggestion, OK? Candice and I will sort this little bit of shit out, and I assume it will take about half an hour. I have made that call, as I said, and it was to a place we all know well. They have a late licence tonight, and Marlene is clearing a corner of Elaine’s Bar. Back to James Street, get changed, and then a team drink. Not obligatory, but I think we need to have a little session of de-stressing. Anyone not up for that?”
There were no objections, and after we had all driven back to James Street, dumped our kit and pulled on something less obviously ‘COPPEER!’, we made our way to our little home from home.
It was forty minutes before Candice appeared, Sammy in tow, and I grabbed her a white wine as she made her way through the strangers by the door. She looked a little drawn, so I gave her a hug after passing her the glass.
“You OK?”
“Yeah. He’s a good bloke, isn’t he?”
“We all know that one, girl. Heavy stuff?”
She grimaced.
“Yeah. He had a transcript thing of what went out on the radio, so we had to make sure it all fitted together. Blunt, though. Best word for it, for how he was. I mean, he understood why I did it… Di? No pissing about, OK? I knew what I was doing, and he has made it bloody clear that he knows as well, and he made me realise I could end up done for perjury. I either put down the lies, he says, and he walks away, or we find a way to write the truth that allows wiggle room. Between the three of us, he is really sticking his neck out, so I don’t think I should say any more about it. We are bloody lucky in having him, Di. So bloody lucky. Anyway, I spy bowls of peanuts. Fuck dieting for tonight”
She was off, clearly fighting back tears, and Lexie was at my shoulder.
“Candice OK, Di?”
I looked up at the younger woman, seeing her integrity, her honesty, and managed a smile.
“Yeah, love. Just a little stressed from it all. Can I suggest something, though?”
“Ah. Don’t talk about…”
“Yup. Don’t talk about. Anyway, gossip. You and that girly?”
She blushed, the poor kid.
“I was drunk, Di”
“Didn’t seem to slow you down, did it?”
“I’m not gay…”
Ah. Ease off a bit, DC Sutton.
“Well, whether you are or not is hardly a big thing on this team, is it? Want to talk?”
“Um. I suppose I should. Di, it simply made sense at the time, if you see what I mean?”
“Atmosphere, music, alcohol, everyone else swapping spit? It happens. To be honest, I don’t think people worry so much about it as they would over two men”
She snorted out a laugh.
“Sorry, Di! Just had a vision of your hubby and Alun, aye?”
“How about one of Rhys and Jonny Boy?”
Her smile broadened and warmed.
“Yeah. Point taken”
“So. This snog that’s worrying you. It made sense at the time. Does it still make sense?”
She looked at the racks of optics for a few seconds.
“It sort of made sense back at her place, Di. Never done that sort of thing before”
“But thought about it?”
She shrugged.
“Girls’ school for me, wasn’t it? Crushes and trying out snogs, but I was never, you know… I look at Elaine and her wife, and it’s all so natural, so normal”
“It is normal, girl. Can I take a flyer, here? Sort of say what I think is going on?”
“Yeah…”
“You were happy to… to go with the flow. Felt right at the time. Now it’s guilt-tripping, am I right? Parents, family?”
“Yeah. Wondering what Mam would say…”
I thought of Tiff’s description of her boy’s parents. Give them a cup of tea, ask how they met. So lucky, as was I, and I didn’t need chapter and verse from Lexie about how she felt her own family might respond, nor why.
“Well, have you spoken to your new friend at all? Asked her how she feels? I don’t mean an interrogation, Lexie. Just say hello and see where that leads. You never know, but she might be in the same place you are”
I didn’t really believe that bit, but I had to try, and I suspected that the best and simplest thing for the young policewoman would be to step away from worry and focus on the person involved. I thought it had been hard for me, and I was straight. Lexie hugged me, then smiled in a rather twisted way.
“Lisa’s actually in the main bar. Saw me come in and sent a text. Nervous as all hell, I am”
“Then go, say hello, and see what happens. Your head will sort itself out only when you give it a chance, not sitting around trying to second-guess who you are. No presumptions, and no sorting your life to fit those of other people, OK?”
She looked up, eyes soft.
“Di?”
“Yeah?”
“Please take this the way I mean it, but you’re not that old…”
“And love you too!”
“No! What I mean is, well, how do you get so sorted?”
I took a step forward and a hug.
“Not so easily, Lexie. Not at all easily. But I had help, and friends who showed me what was really worth worrying about, and what I did need to deal with, yeah? This job helps with that bit, and I think you’re finding that out already. Now off and see what Lisa says, and no presumptions. And remember: she might be in the same boat as you”
A quick squeeze, a peck on the cheek, and she was gone. I took a few seconds to look around the room, checking the dynamics. Jon and Rhys grinning at each other, Rob and Ellen slumped together in a corner, and Candice looking lost and alone.
It was obviously my night as Mother Hen. I gathered my patience to me and ambled over to her.
“Wossup, Blondie?”
Office Blonde was in storage just then, and I had a frightened young woman instead. Shit.
“Did I fuck up that badly, Di? Sammy said… Shit. Not going to let myself cry. Not here”
“What did he say?”
“Oh, it was all about overstepping instructions, conflicting notes and statement, all sorts of stuff like that. It was all ‘Professional Standards’ and ‘internal investigation’ and ‘discipline’ and I didn’t MEAN it to go like that and---”
Her voice was starting to rise, so I put my hand to her mouth. Why was it always bloody me?
“Stop now, Candice. Stop. You stopped?”
“Mmmhmm”
“OK. Now, listen to me, just for a bit, and think. Why did you do whatever it was that you might have allegedly considered thinking about doing? No, don’t answer. Me talking for now. We all know why, and so does Sammy. He spelled it all out, didn’t he? Perjury, criminality, all that shit?”
“Yeah. It was really---”
“Shush. Nods or shakes, OK?”
She nodded, and I continued, praying I wasn’t being stupid.
“So, he then sat down with you while you, um, corrected the errors in your statement? Doing his job of assuring the official paperwork of his officers, yeah? Nod or shake?”
A nod.
“Did he caution you, woman? You know, that thing that has to be done when there are reasonable grounds to suspect an offence has been committed? Nod or shake?”
A slow shake, that grew in emphasis as a smile surfaced.
“Di?”
“Yes, Candice?”
“You are right, aren’t you? He was shitting me!”
“No, love. He wasn’t. Do not repeat this, but he’s just put his own neck on the line as well as yours. I mean, he hasn’t put YOUR neck on the line, but you see what I’m saying, isn’t it? Where’s Barry?”
Oh hell. It was Lexie all over again; not my night at all. I thought of a big man, so close to tears at the prospect of doing something he could never take back, never explain away in adjustments to a witness statement. I drew a slow breath, let it out and said the words I needed to.
“Did you see the state he was in on that roof, Candice? Might be nice to give him a ring and see he’s OK”
She looked down at her feet, nodded again and pulled her phone out of her handbag before heading for the exit, no doubt to find somewhere quiet enough to make a call I suspected one more generous, caring human being needed.
Speaking of which, sod the ‘hen’ bit. It was my turn to get marital rather than motherly. I went looking for my husband. I had plans for him. Me.
Us. Most definitely ‘us’.
CHAPTER 71
Afterwards, as so often in my life, I was able to talk with my lover. I couldn’t imagine how I would ever be able to cope without him there to take the load at least partly from my shoulders, but I was certain he felt the same way about the support I offered him.
“Blake?”
“Yeah?”
“Might need some help A few cracks showing”
“Cracks, love? Who with?”
“Candice, of all people. She told a couple of porkies, and she is worried all to hell”
“Bag in Volvo stuff?”
“Yeah. Think Sammy has it covered, but she collared me twice about it. Repeating herself, isn’t it?”
I gathered my arguments, but I needn’t have bothered; Blake was always in tune with my thinking. He squeezed me in reassurance, then set out his stall.
“I think Sammy needs to have a word upstairs, love. Team has been through some real nasties, in quick order. Not easy stuff to step away from. Remember that chat we had about Lainey, on the way back from the sprogging?”
“Bloody hell, aye! You thinking similar stuff with Candice?”
He squirmed around in the bed until he could look me in the eyes.
“Not just her, love. Lexie hasn’t had the easiest of times, nor Jon, and that Scottish twat dropped Rhys into it big style”
He muttered something rude, then grinned.
“Got some thoughts, love. Back me up with Sammy?”
“Stupid bloody question! What are you thinking?”
He told me, and I snorted.
“THIS time of year? In a tent?”
“Nope. Got a better idea, haven’t I? I could show you, but that would mean getting out of bed, and away from a warm wife”
“And a snoring cat”
“Yeah, well…”
Blake was true to his word when we were next in the office.
“Sammy?”
Our boss looked up, and I could see the strain on him as clearly as on Candice.
“Yeah?”
“Could we have a word, wifie and me? In private?”
He muttered something that sounded very like “What now?” and waved us down the corridor to a little meeting room. I made sure I closed the door properly behind us, and then took my seat next to Blake, who was straight to the point.
“Di said it the other night, Sammy. Cracks, isn’t it? People cracking?”
Sammy slumped in his chair, the first time I had ever seen him look so drained.
“Candice?”
I nodded, tag-teaming my husband.
“Yes. She came up to me the other night, Sammy. In confidence, aye? Yeah?”
“Of course, mate”
“She came up to me twice, Sammy. Same shit, just more alcohol inside it. What it is, well, what it is, it’s more than just her. We have had no let-up at all. A month here, a fortnight there, but the real jobs have all been nasty. We nearly lost Jonny Boy, and then there was Lexie, and now Candice”
Blake touched my arm.
“Can I be honest, Sammy?”
Of course you can. I wouldn’t expect anything else from you”
“You, Sammy. How much do you have left?”
Sammy’s head dropped.
“I was expecting something like this, just not from you two. I can give you a bloody good write-up. Where are you looking?”
Blake looked surprised, then started to laugh.
“Bugger it, Sammy! You can be so thick sometimes! Sorry, but has to be said”
The head came up, and the smile was Tired and Drawn.
“What ARE you saying, then?”
Blake gave my knee a quick squeeze, and I patted his hand in permission.
“I had an idea the other night, and my darling here put some meat on its bones. I had a word with Elwyn the Fed rep, and he says we have a case”
“What for, mate?”
“Team building exercise”
“Eh? Playing silly games in some crap hotel?”
“Nope. Di had a better idea”
Tired and Drawn left the room, as curiosity gave them a kick.
“Do tell…”
I made the phone call to Fishguard half an hour later.
Two weeks later, and we had run out of sheep jokes. Sammy had spoken to somebody he knew Upstairs, who I suspected might be called Williams, and they had given the nod. I had mentioned our plan to Lainey, and she had made her own call, and one Monday morning, on the dot of eight o’clock, her cousin Hywel had appeared outside the James Street nick in a species of giant minibus. Candice had cast a critical eye over it, almost back to her snarky self.
“Bit better than a fifteen-seat Transit, then!”
Hywel rumbled a reply, almost but not quite as deep as his father’s voice would have been.
“Bloody well hope not, aye? One of them all the way up there, no ta. Like my comfort, I do. All aboard the Skylark, aye?”
Sod Welsh mountain roads. He took us the quick way, one Dad had always resented, through England. It is something so many of us hate, but there is really no practical alternative. I like the drive up the coast, and the bit through the middle is pleasant, but it takes so much time, and with a chunky vehicle it would be hard work for a driver. So, out to the Severn, over to the Motorway, and then up towards Shrewsbury. Hywel surprised me, though, finding a route that, while reasonably wide and well-surfaced didn’t involve going almost all the way to Birmingham. After about three hours, he pulled over at a place I actually recognised. We all piled out, Blake and Rhys stretching theatrically as Candice trotted off to the ladies’. Hywel called after her.
“Starbucks over the road if you want an expensive drink, love. I’ll be in the Little Chef, aye?”
He turned to me.
“You one of those wants more froth than coffee, girl? They do a proper cafetière in the Little Thief. Wake me up better than that American rubbish. Always tastes burnt to me”
He had just as many depths as his father, it seemed, so I grinned, nodded, and we voted as a team to take over the LC. Candice was back remarkably quickly, and I suspect she had found the bogs not quite the best in her experience. Once we had the drinks ordered, consumed, and the residue filtered, Sammy led us back to the bus, standing up in the doorway holding up his hands for silence.
“Right, mates! Time for the reveal! Blame Mr and Mrs Sutton for this trip, but I will talk sense for a few minutes, if you don’t mind, and I heard that, Jonny Boy”
“Heard what?”
“Heard you thinking ‘That’ll make a change’, son! Anyway. We are going to the hills. Team-building exercise, it is called, and before you start complaining, think about those words. “It is called’. That is how it was sold to the Brass, and that is what we have arranged, but that isn’t what we will be doing unless you individually want to”
He looked round the team, and for an instant, I saw Tired and Drawn lurking.
“It has been a phenomenally hard year, mates. Two years, really. You have all made me proud, you have all stepped up when needed. I heard B and B talking about it a few days ago, and what they said was true. Running towards the problem, never away. Proud. That is what I am, but I am also supposed to be a bloody manager. We had the Evans shit, and while I came in at the end of that, I still picked up the fallout. Then we had Cooper, the moped hit, the bloody biker fiasco, and then, on top of all of that, Merthyr. I am not naming names, except for one, but we are starting to crumble, and I can’t allow that. Bev Williams agreed, and so we have an official trip as cover, and a reality that you can choose for yourself. We are going to an outdoor activity centre”
Ellen called out “Please tell us it’s not tents!”
Sammy grinned, and this time Cheeky was back in full.
“Only if you want to! This place has proper beds, decent food, and a bar. If you want to sit around and get fat, you can do so, but there is a dry ski-slope there and the option of hillwalking, canoeing, rock-climbing, or just getting on a bus and going to somewhere like Caernarvon. We have six days. Breathe, recover, think about what you want to do, and find yourselves again. Six days with no pressure unless you want it, OK?”
“Sammy?”
“Yes, Lexie?”
“That one name you were going to mention?”
Cheeky faltered slightly.
“My own, Lexie. I’m just as beaten down as the rest of you. This is my recovery week as well”
Hywel reached over from the driver’s seat to touch Sammy’s arm.
“Just to let you all know, aye? Elaine Powell is my cousin, for those who didn’t know, and Dad and me had a word before I drove over. You will find some cases of beer and wine in with your bags. I don’t want them in the bus after you get out, aye? I need the room for a couple of bikes I will be picking up”
There was a tap on the door of the bus, and he grinned. There was no sincerity at all in his voice as he laughed, then mock-scowled.
“Oh! Looks like the bikes are here! You will just have to get all of that booze out of the hold now, and bring it into the bus! Oh dear, how sad, never mind, aye?”
What the hell? Sammy opened the door, and I peered out of the window to see the Woodruffs. Hywel was out of the bus in a shot, wrapping the redheaded woman in a hug even as he shook her husband’s hand. I followed the rest of the team down the stairs, catching a grin from Stephanie, who was standing next to a heavily-loaded bicycle and carrying some sort of instrument on her back, rucksack-style.
“Diane, yeah? Lainey let us know, so we’re borrowing their camping stuff. Got the rack and that on the bikes, but we only had to ride from Gobowen, and it’s just about flat”
I dithered for a second, and she grinned.
“Me and my man are climbers. Elaine told us what you are doing, so we thought we’d come along. There’s a music night on in a local pub at the weekend, and we have provisionally booked a couple of big taxis to get us all down there”
“Um, yeah, but minibus, isn’t it? Got our own!”
She grinned, and I saw Annie in her for just a second.
“And you would keep Hywel away from a pint?”
I took her point. In the end, we had enough room underneath for one of the bikes, the other fitting into the aisle, and there was indeed beer and wine, and a ride that got more and more scenic, Hywel singing as he drove. Nobody went stupid with the booze, Steph and her husband fitted almost seamlessly into our crew, and my memories were surprising me with their sharpness.
That was the place Dad had stopped that time for an al fresco pee, only to be caught mid-flow by the truck’s lights as it overtook us in the dark.
There was the spot we had left the main road and driven for what felt like hours, stop-start through villages when the A5 was closed due to a smash.
Here was the long, undulating straight to the bend in the road where we always got our first glimpse of the Really Big Mountains (too cloudy this time).
The Silver Fountain, the Waterloo Bridge, Swallow Falls, Ugly House; my childhood memories were so clear, and I realised I was feeling happier than I had in months. It was cleansing, to be honest. These were memories of an earlier life, a time before I had ever met a man called Evans, before my parents’ brief run for cover in Milton Keynes. Blake was cuddling me, Candice was being sarcastic about nail care, Steph was naming every bend in the road, every rock, probably every individual sheep (no doubt by both first and family names), and I, to my astonishment, was coming home.
CHAPTER 72
We were approaching Capel Curig when I felt Blake tense slightly, then slowly relax.
“What’s up, love?”
“Tell you later, aye?”
I settled back down against him as the bus carried on through the village without stopping, clouds low on the hills. We went through a series of bends before a long straight, Hywel stopping halfway along it at the foot of a hulking great mountain that disappeared up into the clinging grey mess. There was a farm I half-remembered camping at a little way before our stop, and another right where we were. The Woodruffs gathered their various bags and panniers, hauled their bikes off the bus amid a chorus of goodbyes, and were gone. We continued down the road, past a lake I remembered a lot more clearly, and then into the car park by the Youth Hostel, which I didn’t remember.
I mean that I remembered it completely differently. The little L-shaped structure with the tiny snack kiosk had been replaced by something much bigger, and some major earthmoving had enlarged the parking area. I almost felt betrayed, but all Hywel did was use the space to turn the bus full circle so we could set off back to Capel Curig. Along the straight again, a blast of the horn to the Woodruffs, and down the hill into the village, where Hywel turned onto what I thought of as the Snowdon Road. He reverse-parked onto a little lane just after the two outdoors shops, and then Sammy stood up at the front of our bus.
“Right, then! This is where we get off, and I will admit to a little presumption here. The big white building off to our left is the National Mountain Sports Centre, where most of you will be staying. Basic rooms, but I am told clean and comfy. This is the presumption, just down this lane. We have a couple of cottages, each of which has two double rooms. One of them is mine, because I have exercised the privilege of rank. I will assume the other three rooms will be sorted by, er, mutual agreement, unless our married couples are having domestics. And yes, Jonny Boy, I can still hear what you are thinking!”
He waited for the laughter to subside, then indicated the door.
“Grab your kit, mates. I gave the keyholder a shout while were dropping the Happy Campers off, so they should either be there or on their way. Bus will be parking out the front of the Centre. They have a light meal for us, just a few sandwiches and that, and I have booked tables in the first pub down the road for eight. Meet in the Centre bar for seven for a livener!”
It was bloody obvious who he meant, so it was Jon, Rhys, Rob and Ellen who accompanied us to the cottages. Sammy, Ellen and Rob went into their little grey building, while Rhys made a beeline for the kitchen in ours. Over the sound of the kettle filling, I heard him shout to his partner to sort the luggage out. Jon’s reply was predictably rude.
Ten minutes later, we were all sat round a small table in the front room, tea in hand and peace in my soul. Jon was fussing over his phone, looking slightly worried. Blake caught where my gaze was.
“What’s up, Jonny Boy?”
“Just looking on the map app thingy. Says it’s four bloody miles to the pub! Surely we’re not starting trekking shit as soon as we arrive?”
I stifled a smirk, as I worked out what he had looked up.
“Jon?”
“Yup?”
“What’s the pub called?”
“Um, Pen y Gwryd?”
I dug my own phone out.
“Try putting in… hang on… Bryn Tyrch”
“Er, yeah… Oh! The OTHER way down the road! Half a mile! You must all think I am an utter idiot!”
Blake laughed out loud.
“Well, you are spending a week in the rain with us lot, so I think that particular argument is already settled”
“You are a right load of bastards!”
Rhys was chuckling away happily, more relaxed than I had seen him in months, and it was clear how utterly right Sammy’s sneaky plan had been. I took the cups back into the kitchen to wash up before our night out, and Blake followed me, spooning me from behind as I wiped and rinsed.
“I said I would tell you later, love. This is later enough, I think. Remember I told you about the trial, up in Caernarvon? Siân’s parents?”
“Yeah?”
“I think we drove past their house as we came to the village. To Capel Curig. A place called Pont Cyfyng; I heard the name at the trial, and then there it is, a signpost pointing over a bridge. Just where those little waterfall bits were. Threw me a little bit. Suppose I knew it was round here, back of my mind sort of thing, but didn’t want to let it spoil things”
I settled back against him, reaching back to stroke his cheek.
“You think it will? I don’t. And you need to get our coats; you’ve pulled, as they say. Dinner later, snack and a drink now, OK?”
I left the cups to drain and let him help me into my winter jacket before heading along the road to the Brenin, where our clan slowly assembled. A glass of wine, some crisps and a simple sandwich, then off along the footpath in the darkness and drizzle. Like so much of the place, I half-remembered the pub, but the menu was a bit more upbeat and, perhaps, upmarket than I expected. Camping trips with Dad had always involved a little two-burner cooker with a chunky bottle for the gas, and meals that seemed to consist of some sort of savoury rice or instant noodle base with anything from tinned meatballs through tinned Irish stew to basic stewed mince (tinned, of course) dumped on top.
Not exactly cordon bleu cuisine, but I think Dad took some sort of perverse pride in ‘roughing it, and, to be honest, it all added to the atmosphere. It did mean that when we had a treat and ate out at some local café or chippy, the sausage or pie and chips tasted far better than they would otherwise have done.
This pub, though. Beef goulash and polenta? Scallops and black pudding? What happened to steak and ale pie or a mixed grill? Sod it: I went for the scallops, and they were great. Beer and wine, good food, happily raucous company that included a lycra-clad pair of Woodruffs as the screws of our team’s tension came off. I slept bloody well that night
I woke to the miracle of sunlight blasting through our bedroom curtains, and as we trooped out of our self-catering cottages to where Sammy had somehow negotiated a six-day breakfast deal for all of us, I delighted in the view down the Mymbyr to the open sweep of Cwm Dyli and a snow-covered quartet of peaks. I was smiling all through breakfast, right up until Sammy told us the order of the day, which was a choice of gentle hillwalking, harder hillwalking, beginners’ rock climbing, brain-dead lunatics’ rock climbing, canoeing in the lake, or a trip to Caernarvon with Hywel. What was missing, as Candice pointed out, was the sitting-by-a-pool with cocktails option.
In the end, I opted for the gentler climbing option, as the sun was unlikely to stay out for us and hillwalking in the rain has its own perverse pleasures. Rhys and Rob, to nobody’s surprise, took the ‘nutter’ option, Jon and Lexie came with us (Blake knows his place, which is beside me) and the others chose their own idea of fun. Sammy was for the bus ride, and Candice, to my astonishment, opted for boating after a repeat of her nail care comments.
The centre ran the course, and after a short classroom session, our instructor seemed satisfied with our communal lack of qualifications as radical crag grippers, or whatever the term is, and took us to a room full of dangling pieces of nylon webbing and racks of helmets. A bit of a lecture, then into a minibus, and rather oddly back along the road to where we had dropped the Woodruffs off the evening before. All became clear when our instructor led us straight through the farm, over a stile and some heathy ground to the foot of something I actually remembered really clearly.
A sweep of clean rock, only the occasional patch of heather on some of the ledges, and Steph’n’Geoff grinning happily at its foot.
Geoff was chirpy, even for him.
“Wotcher, you lot! We thought some of you might end up here! Lovely day for being silly, isn’t it?”
Steph laid a long arm over his shoulder.
“First place I ever took him climbing, this is. Lots of memories round here. Gives us a chance to agree what we’re up to Saturday night, as well”
Jon was feeling his oats.
“Some of us are doing things with boats. Why not ambush them?”
She laughed.
“Bloody stupid game, that! You can drown in that stuff! Air I can live with”
It was Geoff’s turn to guffaw.
“Yeah, even when it’s all she has under her bloody feet. We’re not stopping here long, anyway. Off round the Slabs for some longer stuff”
Jon had to ask, the silly boy.
“Slabs?”
“Geoff may have intended his smile to look innocent, but it didn’t fool me.
“Oh, a little way down the road. Nice walk. Like this place, just a little longer, and a much easier way down off the top. You’d like it!”
On instinct, I looked over at our instructors, and one of them had turned away, but I could see his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. It seemed the Woodruffs were very well suited indeed.
While our guides led us to the foot of the left-hand end of the slabs and began the process of fitting us all with climbing harnesses, Steph attached a rope, said a few words to her husband, and nonchalantly ambled up what looked like utterly smooth rock. I say ambled, because that was what it looked like. She wasn’t peering around for bits to grab, she didn’t even appear to be standing on anything visible. She just went up, on all fours, while chatting to Geoff.
I looked up above us, and while it was still Up, at least our rock looked broken into bits I could actually see without a microscope. One of our boys, a Birmingham lad in his twenties, took his time going up to a ledge towing a rope, while the girl working with him, who sounded local, explained what he was doing, covering aspects like posture, use of his feet, and where he had his arms.
“Don’t reach up to high, ah? Your arms will get all weak, what we call ‘pumped’. Keep them down at shoulder height. Trust your feet. Ignore that one with the red hair, she’s a teasing cow!”
A voice floated down.
“I heard that, Enfys!”
“You were meant to! Oh, you been speaking to Roger? About Saturday? The Cow, ah?”
Steph had turned round to look down, one hand playing with stuff dangling from her belt.
“Hang on. I’ll just put something in, otherwise he’ll fret… There. Runner on, love!”
Geoff shouted back “OK!” and Steph continued her chat, seemingly unconcerned at her position about forty feet up a wall.
“Yeah, love. He’s doing a couple of minibuses for us. Be room if you want to come along”
“Ah, Roger’s ahead of you! Done a deal with Vernon at the Brenin. Got a load of tourists want to go off to Gloddfa Ganol and Portmeirion, be back late. He’s got a couple of drivers spare, but needs the buses, ah? Vern’s saying to use ours, so someone has to go along to make sure nobody breaks anything”
Geoff started laughing at that remark.
“Let me guess, girl: you volunteered? How’s it go: it’s a crap job, but you’ll take one for the team?”
Much happy laughter, more of the same sort of banter, ravens and buzzards overhead and the sun still out for us. We each tied on to the rope in turn, as Geoff disappeared upwards only slightly less slowly than his wife, and one by one we tackled that little bit of rock. It was nowhere near as hard as it looked, and our guides moved us along the slab route by route, flasks of tea being sampled cup by cup, smile by smile. The Woodruffs did their thing before moving on for their harder stuff, and as the day moved on through our packed lunch, the shadow of Tryfan falling more and more over us as the sun fell behind it, our climbing finally reached the top of the cliff in ever-more complicated games with the ropes.
I found my focus closing down, my sight picking out ever-smaller ripples and folds in the rock and my mind accepting that they could actually be used. The concentration became intense, and I suddenly realised my odd eye for detail was a real asset for such an activity. I got so warm I doffed my jacket and hat, the gentle breeze moving my hair around in a caress rather than an attack, Blake was there, Jon was laughing as he kept confusing his right and left (“No, Jon! The OTHER right foot!”) and Lexie was most definitely happier than I had seen her for a long time. Once again, I blessed Sammy’s wisdom.
We found ourselves in one group again, as Enfys brought up the last bits of gear to the top of the great lump, and she led the way up a couple of rock steps before starting the walk around and down the end of the slab. There was a little corner we had to scramble up; nothing difficult, but its smooth contours and a little trickle of water in the centre suggested a different experience in the rain. Lexie had her hat off, what hair she had managed to grow back moving around in a rather brisker wind than we had felt at the bottom of the climb, and as it moved, the scar on the side of her head showed clearly. I heard Enfys gasp.
“Lexie, sorry if I am being personal, ah? But what on Earth happened?”
A soft, sad smile from my friend.
“I got stupid, love. You know what we all do for work?”
“Um, aye. Coppers”
“Yes. We have had a bit of a year, and this is all a bit of… This is letting some stem off, this week, finding ourselves, destressing. I got shot, simple as that”
“Cachu!”
“Yes, it was. Should have kept my head down, really, but it means I won’t be in the frame for a remake of Breakfast at Tiffany’s any time soon!”
“You OK now, though?”
Lexie smiled again, and it was much warmer and happier.
“It’s like the climbing, Enfys. Had my team around me, all interlocked, inter-reliant, if there’s such a word. Lots of important stuff you can never do alone, isn’t it?”
It was a second before I picked up on the dynamics, and on the walk down I quietly asked Lexie about her friend Lisa, which brought a chuckle.
“Bit of flirting never hurts, Di!”
She let that sit for a second as we worked round an awkward patch of mud, then looked back at me and smiled happily.
“And yes, I think I have found someone I like. Bit of a surprise, that one. That question you asked in the pub that night? Does it still make sense, you said”
“Ah. Does it?”
“Well, it makes enough sense that she’s taken a double room in that pub with the stagecoach out the front. She’ll be here Friday night”
“Coming up by train? How’s she getting from Betws? Need Hywel to pick her up?”
There was a whoosh as a raven tumbled overhead, then a thump as its wings bit the air again, and Lexie was standing still, her gaze sweeping the horizon.
“It is absolutely bloody gorgeous here, Di!”
“It is that, girl. Used to come up here with Dad when I was only little. Camped in the next farm up, Big Willy’s. Which sort of brings us back to Lisa, doesn’t it? You are indeed a devious cow”
Another really genuine laugh burst from her.
“Not the only one, am I? She won’t need a lift--- Barry’s driving her!”
CHAPTER 73
Once again, I should have seen that one coming.
“By any chance, reasons that might be blonde?”
The younger woman turned sharply, fixing me with quite an intense gaze.
“You still manage to surprise me, Di. I get so used to you seeing things so clearly it throws me when you miss something in plain sight. Sammy hasn’t”
“Eh? Why Sammy?”
“Lots of chatting, me and him. You know that, and you know the state Candice was in. That whole fucking job… Sorry, Di. Don’t normally swear, do I?”
“Not to worry, love. That job?”
“Yeah… I really think we were dropped in it on that one. So much shit in one case that I think some brass somewhere was playing pass the parcel, or at least for bits of it. How long did we spend in the wet and cold, in the end? That whole shitty thing about dead dogs, that was not fair. Things go on… Di, no offence, OK? Sometimes you miss things in the team, stuff when you’re not there. Candice was breaking, really breaking, over that bit. Covers it well, but she wasn’t in a good place. I missed some of it, being sort of in hospital, yeah?”
“Being sort of shot in the head, YEAH?”
“Yeah, well. Not doing that again, am I?”
That set us both off laughing, and as we wound down, she continued.
“Then there’s Barry. Soft lump that he is. Did you clock the state he was in?”
“I know he was a bit wound up”
“Did you know that would have been his fifth real shot? The fifth human being he was being asked to put a bullet into? He’s another who hides it well, but Bryn? You know Bryn, his partner?”
“Of course”
“Friend of my uncle’s, he is. They served together. Bryn’s a lot harder than Barry, and he was getting worried as well. I know you won’t cause problems, but please let the two of them make their own jokes, just for a while. And watch Alun. He’s really down”
I looked at her as she stared off towards the bulk of the Carneddau, and she was steady in her gaze, but her fists were clenched.
“Lexie?”
“Aye?”
“How did you get so bloody wise?”
She turned to grin at me. It was still slightly forced, but it was a beginning.
“Watching and listening to the rest of our team, Di. We all stuff up occasionally, but there’s someone there, every time we do it, someone who catches us before we really get stupid. It’s like Enfys there, with the ropes. Let us get really silly, it did. Knowing there’s something, someone to catch you. I just…”
The grin was gone, and there were tears instead, so I took her to me, held her until the sobs had finished, as she wailed about being stupid, and I was so glad that I kept my mouth shut because what she was talking about was the team.
“How could I even THINK of leaving, Di? I’d be bloody lost without you all!”
It took a little while, but we got ourselves back into a sort of P, P, and headed back to the others. I had noticed Enfys watching as we held each other, and she was gentle with us.
“You really have had a shit time, haven’t you?2
Jon put his arms around both of us, smiling in a sad way at the young guide.
“You could say that. We’re all a bit wound up just now. Can I be really silly?”
Enfys cocked her head.
“What particular type of silly did you have in mind?”
“This has all been nice stuff. Gentle climbing, yeah? Nothing really strenuous”
That got me laughing out loud.
“Just a bit bloody high, Jonny Boy, like that Geoff said about his Missus!”
He shook his head.
“Not what I mean. Look: an easy walk up here, lots of climbing, lots of time to think. Is there anything a bit more energetic, something that would burn some of this angst off?”
I watched in more than a little apprehension as a wicked look crept over Enfys’ face.
“I think I can arrange that. Follow me!”
I was expecting her to lead us off somewhere else, but all she did was walk around the base of the slab.
“Nothing too high here, but there are a few of what the serious climbers call ‘problems’, ah? This is one of my Dad’s old friends called Curving Corner. Easy way off the back, but you have a little bit of gym work to get into it”
The bit of rock in question looked rather like a kids’ playground slide, but one that had been folded together. A V-shaped cleft, with a crack up the back, that started out almost flat and then steepened steadily to the vertical. The real problem, however, was that the flat bit was about six feet up a blank wall. Enfys was smug.
“I go up the back and set up a belay, a top-rope this time. You then climb into the corner and follow it to the top. See that slot on the right-hand wall?”
We all nodded, and she continued.
“There are jugs there, big handholds. What we call ‘Thank God Holds’, ah? Get up to them and it’s easy. You can climb the corner either of two ways: back and foot, or jamming the crack. This is jamming”
She held up her hand, folded the thumb across the palm and showed how it made it wider.
“Yes, it can hurt. Your choice! Who wants to go first?”
I had to be the one who asked.
“Yeah, but how do we get to the corner in the first place?”
“Layback”
“What’s that?”
“See that square flake there? You grip the edge, lean back and walk your feet up the rock, moving your hands up as you go”
We all turned to look at Jon, Blake summing up the general opinion.
“You knob! You can go first!”
Enfys did as she had described, showing us the ramp that led easily up the rounded pillar to its summit, her mate ensuring all our harnesses and helmets were properly secured before tying Jon onto the end of the rope.
“Take in, Enfys!”
“Aye aye!”
The rope went taut, and after a few more words, Jon took the edge of the flake of rock. It took him three goes, his body almost horizontal, before he made it into the corner, standing there panting as he looked at the rock.
“This back and foot thing, Enfys?”
“Aye. Face to your right for this one. You’ll want to put your feet on that wall, bum and back on the other one, right hand out behind you to push on the rock… Yeah, that’s it!”
What followed, for all of us, was a lot of grunting and panting, as one by one we did as instructed, and I have no idea whatsoever how I managed to move up that corner, nor even get into the damned thing in the first place. I suspect there may have been a little more tension on the rope than may have been normal. We all learned exactly why the ‘jugs’ were called ‘Thank God Holds’, though: that bit I remember extremely well. Last to try was Lexie, who seemed to float into the corner before looking down at the rest of us, gathered a little away from the cliff for safety.
“I’m going to try that jamming thing!”
Enfys was grinning at that one.
“OK, girl. Don’t try climbing just yet: try your hand in the crack, feel how it settles into the hold. With your feet, turn them on edge, ah? Sort of twist them into the crack. There’s a chockstone partway up you can get a toe onto. Climb when ready?”
Bitch that Lexie was, her way looked so much easier than ours, and it wasn’t till she got down from the top that I spotted the grazes and the little drops of blood. Ricky handed her an antiseptic wipe.
“Call that gritrash where I used to climb. Nothing to worry about. See?”
He showed us the backs of his hands, and there was a very clear difference between the colour of the skin over his knuckles and that of the rest of their backs.
“Those bits don’t tan any more. Too much abrasion over the years. Mark of a real climber! I tell you, there’ll be people in the Centre bar will spot that, so make the most of it, Lexie”
So, naturally, the rest of the idiots with her, including me, had to try it that way as well. Yes it hurt, but not that much, and I will admit it gave me a curious sense of satisfaction to get the technique right. It felt precarious at first, but once I saw and felt how well it worked, how secure it was, I wanted to do more of it. We were disappointed, though, as both our guides explained how different the rock was to the Peak District stuff Ricky loved, and how few opportunities there were to try it. Apparently, the cliff was a different sort of rock to those around it, or something. I lost track as my body started to tell me how tired it was.
Back to the Centre in the minibus, and a solid meal there, with a few beers, after a long, hot shower. I really wanted an even longer soak in the bath, but there were others waiting, and, well, it would have been selfish, and as Lexie had demonstrated, we were a team. Just a rather sweaty and smelly one.
More days went past us: two wet ones where we went hillwalking, which is perversely satisfying in such weather, and two more of playing with ropes, including that day when we discovered what a lying bastard Geoff Woodruff was.
Idwal Slabs, yeah? “Easy way off”? It was another sodding rock climb for about three hundred feet before we even got to the start of the way down! An easy climb, to be fair, but it was still almost as long as the bloody climb itself had been, something called ‘Hope’. The nutters in our group, meanwhile, had gone off to some place called ‘The Bus Stop’, where they were apparently going to climb on slate. Yes. That sort of slate.
As for us, Woodruff, and ‘Hope’: he could have warned us about THAT one as well, the bastard. In the end, though, we were laughing at the situation, and that was what we were there for. Banter, mickey-taking, teasing, call it what you will: we were beginning to heal. On Friday we went out as a team, Hywel included, on the Horseshoe as far as the summit café, our guides calling it quits as they could see some nastier weather heading our way, and they were absolutely right to do so. By the time we made it back down the Miners’ Path to the Pen y Pass car park, the rain was horizontal and the cloud almost as low as we were. Respect to the two of them for their judgement.
Back to Capel Curig, and Sammy disappeared in a hurry, re-emerging from the other cottage in a couple of minutes with his suitcase.
“See you all in the bar in an hour, mates!”
Another long shower, my man to wash my back this time, clean clothes, and over to the Centre ready for a quiet night in. That was when I realised how ell Sammy had prepared things, for as we emerged from our cottage with Jon and Rhys, Rob and Ellen joined us, along with a smiling Barry and Candice. Office Blonde looked slightly embarrassed, which was not exactly typical of her.
“He’s really switched on, isn’t he? Sammy, I mean? ‘Privilege of rank’, he says, takes the double, and all he’s doing is keeping it, you know, from someone else snapping it up. What do we do to say thanks, Di?”
Barry hugged her to him.
“My opinion? Just keep doing what you do. Lexie’s friend is settled into her hotel, and she’ll be walking up as we speak. Now, what’s planned for tomorrow? Evening, that is?”
Blake shrugged.
“Something some friends of Elaine Powell and Annie Price have cooked up. Music, they say. In a pub”
My old Traffic colleague chuckled at that one, making the expected remarks about almost anything being bearable as long as it involved a decent pint, and we crossed the road to the Centre to continue our healing.
CHAPTER 74
I succumbed on Saturday morning, spending a few hours getting wet along with Candice, followed by a memorably graceless display of utter inability on the Centre’s little dry-skiing slope, where I was made to look even worse by the effortless performance of Lisa and Lexie, the little sods. The sun was out again, and Barry just sat on the terrace, headphones on and eyes closed, recovering his life in his own fashion.
Blake had made some very pointed comments about getting bruises on his arse and disappeared with the rest of the team for some zip wire thing in the Dinorwic quarries, but after I had watched the video Enfys had shown, I had made my own, even more pointed, comments. It wasn’t just the publicity video that did it; Enfys had several of her own helmet-camera depictions of brains-out insanity that she had insisted on sharing with us, all but smacking her lips in delight.
No. Not ever, thank you. I stuck to a paddle around in a canoe and a lot of falling off a pair of planks. My friends were all back by late afternoon, nothing visibly broken or traumatically detached, and we had a buffet dinner /tea meal before settling into more appropriate clothing for a night in the pub.
That actually felt odd; after days in walking trousers or wetsuit, a pair of jeans seemed almost unnatural. I kept the outdoors jacket with me, though, as I had more than enough experience of North Welsh weather to have developed a proper distrust of ‘fine’ evenings. That moment on the Horseshoe had been reminder enough, as the rain and low cloud had sped in far faster than we could ever have walked. Local weather came in capital letters. Lisa, however, was in a dress, which made me hope, perversely, for ran and high winds.
Now we were all hardened crag rats, real people of the mountains, we looked down on such frippery and unsuitable kit! Or so I kept telling myself, while ‘myself’ laughed at may delusions of competence. Still: I knew I would be back, and soon, with my little man.
Out to the bus, one of the eighteen-seaters or thereabouts, a lad from the taxi company to drive, and off along the A5 we went, as far as the long lay-by where we had parked to drop off the Woodruffs, who were waiting for us, clutching their instrument cases.
Ah. One of THOSE evenings. I remembered Deb, and prayed that at least some of the evening would be in English. Sammy stood up at the front, cheeky smile in place, after Steph’n’Geoff had found their seats behind me and Blake.
“Mates! And mates of mates! And Hywel!”
“Not a mate then, aye?”
“Shut it or you’re the designated driver!”
Sammy waited for the laughter to end, before holding his hands up for silence.
“This is a team night, mates. We’ve had our silly games, near drownings, sore bums—yes, Di, I was watching what you called skiing! You bounce very well! Anyway, this is a night for letting your hair down, and it will be Chatham House Rules. I could never say that back South, because everybody knows us there, but for a very good reason, whatever happens here, stays here, OK?”
Jon had to bite, as always.
“Why here especially, Sammy?”
“Folk club, Jonny Boy. Floor spots, aye? We’ve all heard how, um, talented Diane there is, and if the rest of you get drunk enough to be tempted, and you are of similar levels of ability, I am told there are other pubs I can escape to. Seriously, now, OK? This is our evening to let ourselves relax. Forget work. Don’t get too pissed. Enjoy the music, or at least act as if you do. And don’t eat any of the locals!”
Past the lake again, and down the long slope to a village I remembered as having a chip shop, and a supermarket, that Dad had taken me into on our camping trips before my world had turned to shit on a rainy night in a beach car park. Steph reached round to tap me on the shoulder.
“Not quite as your boss described, love. There won’t be that many floor spots, cause it’s a guest night. Part of the plan, really”
“Eh?”
“Friend of ours is booked. One of the reasons we came up with you, to be honest. He’s very good”
I flashed back once more to Deb’s story, and chuckled, which meant that I had to explain.
“Friend of ours, Steph, went on a couple of dates, both to folk clubs, and she’s not a Welsh speaker, and everyone else was, including the acts. This friend of yours: he speaks English?”
Her mouth worked a couple of times before she got the answer out,
“Um, sort of English. Your mileage may vary on that one”
We slowed down a lot, well before the village, and Enfys was the one to explain that time.
“Caravan park there: the police often park in the entrance for a play with their speed guns. Only idiots and tourists get caught, ah? Anyway, nearly there. See that road off right? I’m from up that way”
I wondered if that was meant for me or Lexie, but never mind. If she wanted to drop hints, I doubted her target was paying attention just then, or at least not to anyone except Lisa.
There was a Tesco I didn’t remember, but the rest of the High Street was much as it lived in my dreams, right down to the Co—Op and the chip shop. We parked just along from the latter, where a chalk board outside a pub called the Spotted Cow announced ‘Clwb Ffolc Heno’. We all filed off, and considering the rather narrow frontage there was quite a bit of room inside, as the place went back a long way. Steph was straight up to the bar, and the man behind it grinned happily on seeing her, coming to the little door for a hug of welcome.
“Shw mae, Steph! Sut wyt ti’n bod yn cadw?”
She launched into a lot more Welsh, and the landlord nodded before returning some more of their vowel-limited banter, pointing off to his left, and I realised we had a group of tables reserved. Right in their middle was an elderly man in a tweed jacket and a flat cap, apparently dozing. Geoff was simply handed three pints, after another effusive greeting from the barman, this time in English, and carried them over to the tables, where the ‘sleeping’ man casually extended a hand for one of them, sipped, grinned at Geoff and stood to wrap Steph up in a hug even more encompassing than the barman’s had been.
The rest of us started to sort our own orders out, and the landlord held up his hands.
“Right, now. Steph and her husband have put a little bit of money behind the bar, and so has… Where are you, ah? Sammy. He’s put a hundred in. Nothing from you till that’s gone”
The man in question called over Jon’s shoulder.
“No going silly tonight, mates. Enjoy a drink, enjoy the music, and keep the memories, OK?”
I saw what he meant, and resolved to do my best. We collected our drinks, worked our way through a gathering crowd to our tables, and settled down for the entertainment, which I assumed was going to involve the old man, as he had an instrument case just like Steph’s sitting on the table before him. I leant across the table to ask her what the format would be, and Mr Flat Cap replied for her.
I had absolutely no idea what he said, because it was utterly foreign to any language I had ever heard before. Steph slapped his arm.
“Behave, Jimmy!”
She turned to me.
“I have never worked out whether he does that deliberately or not. Jimmy, this is Di Sutton, a very old friend of Annie’s. Di, Jimmy Kerr, a very old piss-taker. Try again”
He turned an utterly winning smile on me, and spoke again, and I realised he was a Geordie. That explained the foreignness. I managed to decipher most of it this time, and it appeared that there was a traditional order to such clubs. Floor spots, as they were called, a sort of amateur bit, would be followed by ‘The Act’, which was him, and after a break the process would be repeated. Steph, thankfully, took over the explaining before my brain melted under the onslaught of his own versions of the vowels that had been missing on our arrival.
“Geoff and I will be doing a spot in the first half, then a set with Jimmy after the break, so settle down and just go with the flow, aye?”
Her husband snorted.
“She’s away! It’ll take me weeks to get her back into English. Always the same”
And so it went, exactly as described, but with surprises. The first was seeing Alun, Barry, Rhys and Rob stand up with Hywel to sing ‘A Miner’s Life’, and even though it was in unison rather than harmony, it was still bloody good. I even found myself singing(ish) along with them.
Candice and Ellen sang something heart-breaking they said was by Suzanne Vega, about Calypso and Odysseus.
The Woodruffs played tunes that got my feet tapping, and some of the patrons by the bar sort-of-dancing.
Local people as well, of course, did their own party pieces, but I was watching friends, people I knew, and taking joy in the fact that there were still new depths to find in their souls. Jimmy did his sessions, and he was superbly talented on the fiddle, as well as funny, as he toned the accent down, but the high point was when he brought the Woodruffs and Enfys up, that girl producing a harp that must have been kept behind the bar for her. Geoff was strumming something like a round guitar, there were two fiddles, and a delightfully pure sound from our guide.
It wasn’t like the Christmas event, because Steph kept her sanity close by, but it warmed my heart. The regulars obviously knew both the music and Jimmy, as well as Steph and Enfys, and their enthusiasm and appreciation lifted the mood. The reception they gave our boys was more than politeness, it was delight in a song well known and well sung.
I was hooked. Next Summer we would be back in Horley, and I would bring as many of the team along as I could, starting with Alun.
CHAPTER 75
It was a wrench leaving our little home from home. It had been a delight, locals and Brenin staff full of smiles and welcome, the experience made immeasurably better as I watched the strain drop from people’s faces and posture. It had been a release for all of us, and I am sure my own tells had been just as overwhelming. Bless you, boss.
The weather closed in as we left, almost as if the mountains felt we were spurning their affections, and as Hywel drove us home by way of ‘forn parts’ I played with my phone and looked up climbing harnesses for rather small people. Rhod would absolutely love the place.
Lisa rode with us, explaining how she wanted to allow Barry and Candice some ‘quality time’, which showed that she was attuned to the team vibe in at least one way. I watched her with Lexie, and it was still a dance between them, still a game of ‘am I really sure about this?’, especially from Lexie.
They still fell asleep cuddled together, just as I did with my own partner, until Hywel pulled up at some truckers’ greasy spoon for a break, which made me laugh. Pint mugs of tea, bacon sandwiches, all day Full English/Welsh (where were we, exactly?) breakfasts: Lisa wasn’t the only one who understood how we worked together. He grinned at us as he worked his way through a gargantuan mixed grill, complete with cheese-covered chips.
“Don’t know who would kill me first, Dad or Mam”
He caught the multiple raised eyebrows we gave him and shrugged.
“Mam is on a healthy kick, aye? Cutting down on the fried stuff for both of us”
Blake snorted, after a quick look at me, the cheeky sod.
“Let me guess, mate: your Dad would kill you out of jealousy?”
“Absolutely, mate! Now, we’re ahead of time, so I can do more than one drop-off. Let me know now, and I’ll work out a route for it”
Generous man. Generous bloody family, as I already knew from Elaine. Blake gave him our address while I popped into the little shop for a pint of milk.
One by one our friends were delivered to their homes, apart from a small group at the nick, and then we were in our own kitchen, with our own kettle, heating turned on to break the chill. As I brewed, Blake rang Mam to arrange delivery of child and cat. Once the tea was poured, we sat in peace, downloading the memory cards from both of our cameras.
Mam and Dad brought cawl and cakes along with boy and beast, and the mood stayed tranquil even as the two latter explored a home they actually knew so well. The pictures were shown, including some I had most definitely not known about, which included video footage of my attempts at skiing. Blake was chuckling.
“Don’t blame me, love! I was off in the quarries, wasn’t I? Hang on… Can you back it up a bit? OK… pause! Now, look in the window there. See the reflection? You should have spotted that one, supposed to be your job, isn’t it?”
A reflection indeed, of a certain Office Blonde and my camera, the cow. I made myself a promise: her time would come. Never mind; it amused Rhod.
“Why did you keep sitting down, Mam?”
Dad was musing over several of the shots, and I realised he was itching to get at his multiple guide books, which were at the old place, fortunately.
“Where’s the little kiosk gone? Dennis and Dafydd?”
I clicked forward to another shot.
“It’s just in a bigger building, Dad. They’ve expanded the car park as well”
“Not done anything to the fairy bridge?”
“Nope. Still there. Got a shot later”
I pulled out a shot of the approach to our climbing crag, as I really didn’t want Rhod asking about a place I could see as rather unsuitable for excited little boys.
“This is where we went rock-climbing, Rhod”
“Mam! The dog lady!”
My own mother gave me a Look at that, so I had to explain.
“Um, someone called her ‘barking’, and I can’t quite get Rhod’s head around the concept. That’s Steph Woodruff. Her husband is the dark-haired lad holding the rope. Blake, tell me you got some video?”
“Yup! Son, do you like this? Like to have a go?”
“Like at the swings, Dad?”
“Just the same, son. Just longer”
He looked over Rhod’s head to my father.
“They have a tiny little climbing wall in a park we take him to sometimes, as well as a rope net thing. Rubberised ground, so that kids bounce rather than break”
Dad nodded.
“Rhod, that’s where I used to take your Mam when she was little. Would you like to go sometime?”
“Will it be tents, Mam? With Sassie and Tone?”
I pulled him onto my lap.
“Dad and me are looking at tents, son. You really want to see the mountains?”
“Yes!”
“Then we shall go and see the mountains, but when it’s warmer. You asked to go camping when it’s warmer”
“Yay! Can I have a torch?”
“We shall see. Now, more pictures, OK? And we have some of Aunty Steph playing music”
It all met with full grandparental approval, Mam smiling.
“These are the people you stayed with at Christmas?”
“Yes indeed! I will admit, though, that Aunty Steph was a bit less restrained that time”
“Barking, Mam! He said barking!”
“Yes, Rhod”
“And Aunty Annie stands on one leg!”
Oh dear. I wondered if the school could manage an impromptu evening session, just to calm him down, but it wasn’t really an option, so I fed him more cawl, made him hot chocolate, and eventually got him settled in bed after a story about goblin trains and fairy bridges. I settled back down next to my bigger man, and Dad oved his conversation to a more serious tone.
“That boss of yours, Di. He knows his stuff, doesn’t he? With people, I mean”
Blake squeezed me before replying in my place.
“I’ll speak to that one, love. Mark, he does. Too many of us were starting to crumble, so he did something to stop up the cracks”
Mam reached over to take my father’s hand.
“Better than that, son. All too often, it’s just papering over cracks, not fixing them. That’s our girl again, isn’t it? Finding the good ones”
I had no argument against that one, because it was so clearly true. We laughed and nibbled our way through the evening, as, in my own view as an acknowledged expert in the matter, a representative group of those ‘Good Ones’.
There were more good ones to see at work, and round Deb’s place, which brought more work, of course. I don’t mean paid work, but that which comes with the not-so-simple process of trying to be a decent human to others around you.
Sammy had kept his promise, and while the files that came our way may have lacked excitement, they were also wonderfully devoid of shootings, mutilations and extreme cruelty to any form of living thing, unless such a class includes honesty, probity and truthfulness. There were several bribery and corruption/malfeasance in public office affairs, plus a long-running ‘crash for cash’ insurance scam, an internet stalking case that went back ten bloody years (did they even HAVE the internet ten years ago?), and three of what Sean called ‘roll-ups’.
It was returned backscratching, in essence. His employers had been so helpful in a couple of our cases, what else could we do but return the favour? In the end, building on work already done on the Geoghegan affair, one of those files took on a life of its own, as we went from vanloads of cross-Channel booze to a shopping list of offences that seemed absolutely unlimited in their variety.
Untaxed and uninsured vehicles, with unlicensed drivers.
Cut-and-shut and otherwise unroadworthy vans, as the Dover boy had hinted.
Forged and counterfeit (there is a difference) MoT and insurance documents.
Benefits fraud on an industrial scale.
Illegal drinking dens (we left someone else to do the ‘heavy lifting’ that time).
Counterfeit goods, from perfumes to headphones, DVDs to razor blades (I learned an awful lot about the Gillette marketing model for that one)
Human growth hormones and anabolic steroids for bodybuilding, plus a lot of powerful prescription drugs like Valium and Temazepam.
We handed off one particular result to Avon and Somerset, which was another eye-opener. Apparently, ‘unmanufactured tobacco’ (leaves in simple terms) has no duty. The gang was bringing it in by the ton, running it through the necessary shredding machine and then repackaging it in counterfeit wrappers before feeding it to dodgy suppliers who were happy to punt it out as the real thing. What amazed me there was the utter lack of discrimination of so many smokers: as long as it contained nicotine…
An educational process indeed.
The weather was improving steadily at last, so one weekend such a delight to be back on office hours again!) we took the boy out to the huge outdoor discount centre in The Avenue, just off the Newport Road, to do our tent shopping, which could have been a disaster. Thank you, Dad, for the advice beforehand.
“Mam! Lots of bedrooms!”
“Di, love, if we get one of those… and…”
I turned to the two of them ready and willing to lay down The Law as Revealed By Mark Owens.
“OK, but we need to get a few things straight. One: this is a tent for three of us. Not a house, not a canvas palace. T wo: I can remember lying in our old tent listening to the gusts as they came up the valley, and holding onto the ridgepole with Dad so that it didn’t snap. Three: storage at home. So we are not going for an Edifice, or a semi-gazebo with windows. Something like THAT is what we need. Now, I am not going on a holiday with my two men to sleep alone, so with that one we can cuddle up in our bags. And it’s got two doors. And the poles are aluminium, and it’s geodesic, and it says you can buy a groundsheet to go under it to save wear and tear and…”
Thanks, Dad. I had written his advice down and then spent three days memorising it, so no contest. When we left, it was with the tent I had sneakily spent a fortnight researching online, as well as three sleeping bags, little pillows, a small stove (No, boys, my idea of a holiday may include tea in bed but it does NOT include cooking all the meals) and a few little things like folding table and chairs, lantern and, being neither inexperienced nor stupid, some seriously toxic midge spray.
I also succumbed to three head torches, which pleased Rhod far more than the tent.
Early March, we tested it all out at a place recommended by Annie, and it was a delight. Near Llanddeusant, north of the Black Mountain, it had a feeding centre for red kites attached, as well as a caravan park, which allowed my little man to show some amazing arrogance for the first time, as he declared such devices as “Not real camping, Mam!”
It turned out be the place where Sarah Powell, her husband and the Barracloughs had all met for the very first time, and I understood their love for it. Even without such memories, it was one of the most beautiful locations I have ever seen. There were decent facilities for us, including a very sheltered pitch to ease my fears about wind, a café, and to Rhod’s delight, that place to feed the kites.
He went absolutely hyper when we were joined by Lainey, Siân and their children, but we had a big field, no main roads, and air so fresh it seemed to stun the children to sleep at bedtime.
What Sammy had started for us in Snowdonia continued working in the Black Mountain. I had my family around me, in all senses, and I was at peace, which was priceless.
Blake couldn’t understand why I started laughing when that word came to mind, so I had to explain, and so for one night out of the three, Rhod got to sleep over with Sassie and Tone while I healed some more with my husband.
I was in a good mood indeed when we returned, and it was still with me a fortnight later as I drove across to Surrey with Charlie.
CHAPTER 76
Annie had been apologetic.
“Sorry to mess you around, Di, but we just haven’t got the room for both of you. Steph’s place isn’t that far away from us, honest”
“Are you apologising, girl? What the hell for?”
“Well, I sort of said I’d put you up, aye? And now I’m turfing you out. It doesn’t feel right”
“Annie, who is it that’s going to be putting her up for so many weeks?”
“Well, we’ve got the room for her, it’s just---”
“Oh, do shut up! And thank Steph for us both, she’s going above and beyond, isn’t it, and for someone she doesn’t even know. I mean, she hardly knows me, friend of a friend is all I am”
The friend in question was rather hushed when she spoke again, after a short silence.
“Well, that’s the way things are with us. Too much nastiness in our lives to want to see any more of it. Now, remember the garage near the church?”
“Yes”
“I’ll meet you there. I can grab a bus out, once I have an idea of timing, OK? Guide you to the house”
“I do have a sat-nave, Annie”
“Aye, but then I don’t get to point out all the curry houses and pubs to avoid. This girl: housebroken?”
For some reason, she was laughing as she said that, so I had to wait until she had finished.
“Absolutely, but she can be a little prickly. A bit defensive”
“God, I still do that. I was nodding at the phone, Di. Keep telling myself it doesn’t work, aye? Then I catch myself doing it again. Getting old, I am. Anyway, got trade coming in. see you in a fortnight”
Two weeks or so later, after an incredibly emotional farewell from the House, Charlie and I were crossing the Severn, her eyes everywhere as she took in the huge sweep of the Bristol Channel, while I tried not to think of boats dragging unpleasant things up with their anchor.
“First time in England, love?”
“No. Dad took us all to Bath once, when I was only little. Hardly remember it now, so I suppose this is sort of my first time abroad”
That set her laughing, if a little hesitantly.
“What’s tickled you, Charlie?”
“Just that word, Di--- ‘abroad’. That’s what I’ll be when I come back, a broad, a proper one. A real one…”
She started to tail off, but her resilience fought back, as always.
“These people, Di? What are they like?”
“Um, an old friend of mine and her husband and their son. That’s where you’ll be most of the time, but they haven’t got enough room to look after us both unless one of us sleeps on a sofa. A friend of Annie’s has a bigger house, and there’s just her and her man there, so they’ve offered”
“Di?”
“Yeah?”
“I know about Annie. Who she is, I mean. You two OK about, you know, stuff? You fancying her and that?”
“Where did you get that bit?”
“Not stupid, am I? So many girls like me together, we spot all the news about us, people like us, I mean. Not hard to work out, and that Candice dropped a couple of hints when she was pissed. So not a problem?”
I shook my head.
“Want the truth? Would have been the biggest mistake of my life, wouldn’t it? Anyway, you’ll see when we get there. Bit of a boring slog the next bit, so I will need a loo break and something to keep me going. We’ve got some services coming up in about twenty miles, so it’ll be coffee and cake and loo before the last bit”
“Di?”
“Yes?”
“These other people? The ones we’ll be staying with? Do they understand?”
“Most definitely, girl!”
There was so much we had in common, but a gulf remained I could never hope to close. What had been done to me had been because I was a woman, while so much of what had happened to Charlie, Tiff and Deb had been because that was not how they had been perceived. I had no doubts in my own mind, of course, for if anyone could possibly see them as anything other than women, they were either perverse or being deliberately hateful.
That clearly didn’t help her self-confidence, and all I could hope was that while my own sense of worthlessness had been wiped away by my two men, whatever the surgeons could do for Charlie might work in a similar way. Once more, I was counting my blessings, realising how easy a life I had actually had.
The services at Membury were nothing special, but I got to walk around for a while, easing the strain on my back and legs. Once coffee and cake were disposed of, in both senses, we were back on the M4, making surprisingly good time to Reading, where I took the shortcut past Sandhurst Annie had advised. Onto the M25 then, which did bring some delays around the A3 junction, but finally, we were swinging round the complicated loop onto the M23. I noticed my friend sit up as she saw the first signs for Brighton and her future life.
“Got the road atlas, woman?”
“Got maps up on my phone, woman! Don’t you trust the sat nav?”
“Charlie, if you had seen the sort of situations some drivers get into following sat navs, yeah?”
That brought a laugh.
“Yeah, point well made! See that one in Tenby? Where they wanted to go and see that monastery thing?”
Of course I had, but let her tell it, DC Sutton. Let her talk her nerves out.
“No?”
“Hire car, isn’t it? So they plug in the place, set off to drive to it, ‘Straight on to your destination’, so they do as it says, and of course it’s on an island, but they STILL drive straight across the beach and into the bloody sea!”
I chuckled, and she pointed.
“Next exit, turn right on the roundabout. Follow the planes, just not too closely!”
“Ring Annie for us, then”
Round the various right turns I remembered, until I spotted the church spire and the Texaco garage. In, park up, and a bus was there in ten minutes, my other friend effusive with the hugs for both of us.
“Annie, Charlie. Where to now?”
“Back to the roundabout and right. How are you off for fuel? Supermarket on the way to Steph’s if you need some”
“Fine at the moment, but point it out for later, yeah? What’s the plan? And how are you getting home? Need a lift?”
“Na. Eric dropped a bike off at their place for me. He’ll ride out later. Plan is a quiet night, which reminds me. Could you pull into the supermarket anyway? They do a build-your-own pizza there, so we need to get some for later, and, well… Charlie?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you mind if we left Di to do the pizzas? I think we need to look at another bit of the shop. There are things you are going to need after they sort you out. Not something Di really needs to hear, aye?”
Bless you, Annie Price. Johnson.
She was all business at the pizza counter, apart from explaining to a slightly puzzled Charlie that there was no point getting a 10” pizza when, for only a fraction more, we could have a 14”, which was almost exactly twice the size. Four immense pizzas ordered, and a basic geometry lesson delivered, she handed me the trolley.
“Get some nice stuff, Di, and can I really suggest some frozz yog?”
“Sorry?”
“Frozen yoghurt. Bit of a favourite in our family. Oh, and probably… Ten bottles of ale. Mix and match it. New woman shopping to do; catch you by the checkouts opposite the barber in twenty”
Charlie looked subdued when they returned, and I gathered Annie had done some serious sharing of her experiences, but under the younger woman’s silence there was just a hint of excitement. I didn’t need to know what they had discussed, just that someone who knew the score was looking after a frightened girl. Blessings counted once more.
Back out of the car park, left, along a winding country lane as Annie made a quick call, and finally into a gravel drive between two large detached houses. Not too shabby for a civil servant was my thinking, and Annie clearly read my mind.
“Don’t assume, Di. She inherited it from her parents. And there she is! Charlie, can you get the frozz yog into the fridge? Steph will point you”
More hugs, and a real smile of welcome to me from the redhead. Car unloaded, our bags dumped in bedrooms, and finally, finally, a decent cup of real coffee and a comfortable armchair in the conservatory, where I was amused to see a whole collection of stringed instruments and music stands. We sipped in silence, till Steph broke it.
“How was the drive, Di? I always find it a real drag after Caerdydd”
“Not too bad, actually. Few holdups on the M25, but nothing major. Had my in-car entertainment, didn’t I?”
Charlie looked up at that, her smile tentative.
“Steph?”
“Yes? Oh. Yes. Yes, me too. Annie given you the talk already?”
“Yeah…”
“Well, not tonight, OK? No worries till the day, and not even then. We have friends due later, we can haz pizza and BEER, and I have some photos of Diane I can sell you for fun and profit through blackmail. That sound OK?”
Annie’s jaw had dropped, but she recovered.
“Hell, Steph! You channelling Ginny now? Is it something to do with red hair?”
The taller woman giggled, and Annie sighed.
“Ginny is a friend of mine, a very good one. She’s on her way up with her wife and daughter, so you’ll meet her later. They live in Brighton, so they’ll be on hand if you need someone in a hurry. Eric and our boy will be over in a bit, so we’ll be a bit of a crowd. Steph, next door?”
“Yup. Naomi’s doing Stuff for us”
I was getting lost. What happened to my quiet evening in after a long drive?
In the end, it was superb. The ‘Stuff’ promised from ‘next door’ turned out to be a tasty collection of finger food, Ginny, the other red-haired lunatic I remembered from Christmas had brought both a collection of salads and utter insanity on confirmation we had the frozen yoghurt, and Geoff produced both nicely dry white wine and bottles of what I could only consider ‘girly drinks’ for Charlie.
It was a lovely evening, right up until Steph brought out the photos and videos from North Wales and Christmas, the miserable sod.
CHAPTER 77
Annie was smirking, and although Eric was doing his best, his own mouth was twitching. I gave him a by-now-well-practised Mother Look, and he shrugged.
“They did it to us, Di, years ago”
Annie slapped his arm.
“You mean me, love! Di, first time I went to that music day event, and they had video of the whole sodding thing!”
Eric took her hand,
“Forgetting something, woman? First festival?”
Annie blushed at that, then smiled. It wasn’t quite as radiant as the one that had shone from her face at her wedding, but there wasn’t much in it.
“Yeah… I will give you that one, aye? Hairy there did me a compilation of the photos of…”
She shook herself, and Steph reached out for her other hand.
“Di, it was so sweet, in the end, and no, Annie, I am not going to share too many details, so don’t worry. Charlie, you have to understand a few things here, understand why we are looking after you. I suspect you are feeling like a freeloader at the moment. Am I right?”
My young friend looked profoundly uncomfortable at that, but her spirit was stull there, and she nodded sharply. Steph smiled, tilting her head just a little.
“What it is, Charlie, is really simple. I have been remarkably lucky, but I didn’t realise how much until I met my family here. Sorry to get a bit heavy, but there were other people who didn’t have that luck”
I looked across to Annie, who actually shuddered. I didn’t need further explanation of what Steph meant, and after such a tasty meal I really didn’t want it. Steph hadn’t finished.
“Ginny, what was it you said? How did you put it?”
“Said lots of things, didn’t I? Stupid woman that she was! Wasted all that time pretending to be a bloke when she could have been out shagging one”
Her daughter barked out a laugh.
“Mum! You didn’t say ‘shagging’, you said ‘snogging’!”
A manic grin.
“Yeah, but that was before Thailand and shit, wasn’t it?”
Steph sat open-mouthed for nearly three seconds, before turning back to Charlie.
“I should know better by now. Anyway, what Annie is on about: photos and stuff. What happened that August was realisation. Nobody changed, nobody had some mad revelation. Just like me, a couple of people looked at each other a little more clearly. That’s what we photographed. Same with Diane here. How much do you know about what she went through, Charlie? Before that trip up North?”
The younger woman gave me a very long and appraising look.
“Quite a lot, Steph. I know Lexie got shot, for a start. And Paula as well”
“More than enough to stress anyone, you’d agree? Now, what we were doing with the video was showing her laughing. Di? Can I be honest? And blunt?”
“I can’t imagine you otherwise. Go on”
“You know we get a lot of stress in my own job, yes?”
“Yeah…”
“We get good at spotting the cracks, some of us. That bus of years, when we got on, there were cracks everywhere. All of you on the edge. We get a few beers down you, a decent meal, do some silly stuff outdoors, and there’s the result. I spoke to Candice, you know”
“Oh yes?”
“She did it the other way. She never came out in the hills, did she?”
“No, now you mention it. Stayed with the wet stuff”
“Stayed with solitude, repetitive motion, effort. Zen, I call it. Annie and me, we always did the same thing with long rides. Sarah’s the same. When you’ve got a head full of tumbled bits and pieces, it gives you an opportunity to file them away, make sense of your life. Annie has that memory stick with the pictures on to show her what life can and should be, because some things stay with you. We can’t go back and change the past, that’s obvious, so what we do is try and improve the future. That’s what we are hoping to give you. No freeloading, no sponging. We get to feel good about ourselves, and that helps put some of our own nasties into their own files”
Darren, the young man cuddled up to Ginny’s daughter was nodding in agreement and recognition.
“Charlie, has anyone told you what I am?”
She was looking a little worried at that, and I wondered how far the true confessions were going.
“Annie and Eric’s son, yeah? Adopted and that?”
“I was a thief, Charlie. A good one, when I wanted, like. And I was gonna sort out all my own shit, and probably end up killed doing it, and then it’s Annie, my Mum, and Eric my Dad there, and before that my Nan and Grandad over there, and I know I ain’t sponged or freeloaded or any other silly words. You wondering why we suddenly got heavy?”
Mouth shut, DC Sutton. Watch and wait. Charlie, for her part, was shaking her head slowly, and the lad continued.
“Shan’s been watching you, Charlie. That’s why. She knows people. She knows me, she knows I was the same, yeah? What they’re all talking about, really, it’s fear. I KNEW I’d stuff up, end up back in some home. I KNEW they was all just playing with me. That’s how stupid I am. Who is Di, Charlie?”
Her voice was very, very soft, but she was looking at me as she spoke.
“My sister, isn’t it?”
Darren was nodding, his own smile emerging.
“Shan?”
“Yeah?”
“Who’s Annie?”
“My big sis!”
The conversation was finally making sense to me, and as I looked at my young friend the tells that had always been there were finally visible. I moved across to her chair, kneeling on the ground and taking her hands.
“Sorry, love. I don’t know how I missed that. You really think this is freeloading?”
Her tears started slowly, but increased in volume as she started to break, and she just nodded into my shoulder as I pulled her into an embrace. I knew what it was, and it was Ashley fucking Evans, same as it had been for so long with me, same as it always would be in small ways. I remembered that phrase I had snarled at Blake a lifetime ago: not fucking, but fucking up. I pulled back, just a little.
“Stones, love. Stones in the Bay. And Seb waiting for you”
The words sounded wrenched from her as her fingers sank into my shoulders.
“I shouldn’t have to be… I shouldn’t NEED to be fucking validated!”
She wrestled her sobs down, turning red-rimmed eyes on Chantelle.
“How did you know, Shan?”
The smile from the young blonde was almost heartbreakingly sad.
“Me, Di, you: all sisters as well. All you need to know today. Mum Ginny, could we have the frozz yog in a mo? And got the Chrimbo video for after the climbing stuff? Charlie and me, we need some air”
She rose, took my friend’s hand and led her outside, Darren looking proud. I raised an eyebrow in silent query, and got a smile to match Chantelle’s.
“Not gonna say a lot, Di, but Shan knows what rape is, and we all know about feeling like a fraud. Sometimes…”
He looked across at his adoptive mother.
“Something Mum taught me. Sometimes you can’t rebuild without a bit of like knocking down first”
Quarter of an hour later, the two girls were back with us, and so was the frozen yoghurt, along with more climbing footage. Subject changed in silent agreement, Steph was casting a critical eye over my technique at that odd suspended corner thing Enfys had shown us.
“Not bad, Di. You could make quite a good climber if you stuck at it”
“Blake’s better. That thing they took us up at Idwal, yeah? Hope? With that really awkward move—yes, Geoffrey, you sneaky, lying bastard, THAT move---Blake just cruised that bit”
Geoff was grinning.
“Yeah, but he cheats! He’s a lot taller than normal people!”
Steph squeezed his knee.
“No, Di, it’s your body position. You integrate things, put moves together in sequence. You see connections where most people just look for the next big lump to grab hold of. If we ever get you onto the slate, there are climbs there where if you don’t follow a sequence, you can’t do the route”
I made a number of short and pithy comments about the chances of my doing anything as silly as attempting to climb a quarry made of such slippery stuff, and then we were onto the other video. Charlie really seemed to have perked up again after the chat with Chantelle, and as the shots of tents and smiling people filled the TV screen, she was letting her curiosity out rather than chaining it up to avoid offence.
“So what’s this, Di? Oh, look! Doesn’t Rhod look sweet in his woolly hat!”
“What this is, Charlie love, is a sort of charity do that the local vicar does at Christmas. There’s another one they do in Summer that we are looking to be at. Annie? Simon?”
“He’ll be over in half an hour, Di”
“Ta! You’ll get to meet the vicar in question, but it’s actually something Rhod said, woolly hat included. He asked if we could go camping when it’s warm, and the Summer thing is what we are thinking of. Ah! That’s the Edifice!”
“Bloody hell! That’s a tent?”
Steph called over.
“My family’s. First time I met them, I am in this tiny little cycle-touring tent, and they even have a dining room in theirs. Only reason I took up with this husband of mine, to be honest. You ever been camping?”
Charlie shook her head, and I pointed to the screen.
“See that ridge tent there?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s the sort of thing Dad would take me camping with. Up where the climbing was. That thing Bill and Jan have, that’s over the top. Want to tag along if we go out, me and my two men?”
She nodded, her smile steadily warming.
“And Seb?”
Definitely coming back to life!
The Christmas video was as suitable for blackmail purposes as I should have guessed, right down to both of my more musical friends being shown in the full flight of their utter insanity, and as we paused the video for a few minutes while Steph answered her front door, Charlie was back to a far livelier mood.
“We ought to show this to Deb and Frank, yeah? All that folk stuff they go to, this would be right up their street”
“Sort of the plan, girl. I am hoping to get my team across for the weekend, and Deb as well if she’s able. Ah!”
I rose to greet Simon the vicar and his wife, and after the necessary introductions I made my play.
“Could I have a quiet word?”
CHAPTER 78
I was back with the others after a surprisingly short conversation, followed by a longer one, with Simon, who was looking positively secular in a checked shirt and jeans, not a whistle of a dog collar in sight. That thought brought back others, of course, and he noticed. After we had finished our negotiations, he asked outright what had disturbed me.
“Nothing here, Simon. Just been a rather heavy time at work”
“Ah. Annie told me about the shootings”
“Not just those, mate. We have had a few other nasties”
“Want to talk through them? It is sort of my job, after all. Goes with vicaring”
I swallowed the bad taste bubbling in my throat.
“Last one was organised dog-fighting, Simon”
“Oh. Oh indeed. Can I be rude and request that you don’t give me any more details than I need?”
“Granted. I was lucky enough to be well away from that part of things, but…”
“You still feel soiled, am I right?”
“Yeah. Spot on. Sort of why I am here, with Charlie”
He smiled, and it was warm indeed.
“Doing a little bit of balancing the scales, Diane? We know about that over here. Can I be rude?”
“In what way, exactly?”
He sighed, taking my hands in his.
“Sarah spoke to me as well. It feels rather odd, sometimes: it’s as if my parish extends across counties. I know all about Joe Evans and his family. She mentioned other girls that he had abused. Can I guess that Charlie is another of them?”
I just nodded in agreement, and he continued.
“I know about his family as well, Diane. I know that you delivered them to justice, so in my opinion the balance we were talking about is already tilted firmly in your favour. Yell me…”
He was grinning now, almost as ferally as Sammy’s worst.
“How did young Evans react when he saw Sarah’s sister? I know what the Lord says about vengeance, but I remain human, and every now and again I succumb to gloating. I shouldn’t, I know. I hear he lost bladder control when he met Elaine”
Poor man. I hated doing so, but I had to prick his bubble.
“You do know he died, Simon?”
“Oh. Oh… Sometimes, I wish I was like Pat, with a bag full of coins for a swear box, but… How do you feel about that, Di?”
I weighed my answer, and I found I couldn’t bullshit him.
“Guilty, in a way, Simon. He should have been safely out of harm’s way, and I don’t just mean harm he did to others. Part of what has been weighing us all down, I suppose. I think it’s hit Charlie more than me, though. One thing wishing somebody dead, another thing entirely when it happens. She has been through an awful lot, but she is still a kid, isn’t it?”
“What are you planning for our Summer event?”
“Summer? The dance, music thing? I was hoping to get my team across, and some other friends, including Charlie and her carer, if you have space for us all”
He smiled, and it was back to gentle warmth after that little flicker of hate, and just for a moment, I could read his mind. He cared about people, deeply, passionately. He cared about particular individuals even more so, a sizeable proportion of whom were sitting inside with Charlie, and as a result, and in a perfectly natural way, he found himself hating, and he really saw that as a failing. I could see why everybody seemed to love him, and I recognised yet again that other people suffer in unseen ways.
“Diane, I have actually planned for that. There is a recreation field next to the river, and the local council have agreed its use, along with some portable facilities. It has become quite the thing, almost a local festival. We even have a couple of professional acts that have asked to perform pro bono, so expect a lively weekend. There will still be a private party, although ‘private’ can be interpreted very loosely. Now, I think we should re-join the others. Thank you for thinking of me this way”
“I thought it might seem like cadging!”
“Family don’t cadge. Can I ask if there is any of that frozen yoghurt left? Virginia has educated my palate more than a little over the past few years!”
What a lovely man indeed.
Steph’s neighbour Naomi Woods drove us to Brighton on a lovely early Spring morning. Steph herself riding shotgun in order to give directions, as it turned out to be her ‘alma mater’, or whatever the term is for a hospital one has used. I had taken a hotel room on the seafront, just a Premier Inn, so it was rather anodyne, but it was all I needed. My young friend was almost trembling as we rode down, and Steph was brightly cheerful in reaction.
“Got some CDs with me, give you a flavour of what we like musically, ready for the Summer. Do you dance?”
“Not that sort of thing, not the square dance stuff”
Naomi called back over her shoulder.
“You will do after that weekend, girl! Now, no nonsense or prudery, d’ya hear? I spent enough time looking after this one here, and she is a wilful and awkward baggage when she wants to be. Got your laptop?”
“Yeah”
“I have put a bag of Albert’s less violent films in the boot for you, along with some headphones. Got your rubber ring?”
Her what?
Charlie almost laughed at my expression
“It’s what Annie and Steph said, yeah? Sitting down will be sore for a while. Yeah, got it, Mrs Woods”
“That’s for salesmen and shopkeepers, Charlie. Friends call me Naomi. Enemies, it’s D.I. I believe you may be a friend!”
D.I.? Detective bloody Inspector? Oh shit! I did the usual trick of rewinding everything I had said, looking for ‘bringing the Force into disrepute’, while Stephanie bloody Woodruff just giggled, the cow, and as I did so, Naomi sneakily added the missing word: “Retired”.
They were well-suited, all of the sneaky sods. We had time to spare on our arrival, so Naomi managed to find a parking space near the seafront, where we ate chips and other things as we watched the waves rolling up the shingle. It was still early enough that Charlie was allowed to eat, so she made the most of it as the gulls screamed loudly enough to compete with the heavy traffic behind us. Steph as calm, steady.
“You won’t be in that long, Charlie. Di will be around for your return to the world, am I right, Di?”
“Yeah. I’ll be there for when you come out of theatre”
Steph nodded in understanding.
“One of the things I was lucky in, Charlie, having Geoff waiting for me. Annie had Eric, as well, and for me at least it made everything so much easier. Naomi or Eric, or one of us, maybe Shan’s Mum Kate, will be there for the drive back. There’s absolutely nothing to worry about. You’ve got a multi-pack of mints in your handbag; I slipped them in earlier. They help with the aftertaste when you’re sick”
Suddenly, she was laughing.
“Hangover from hell, it is, and you don’t even get the fun of being drunk beforehand! But then…”
She tailed off, which was strange, because she was never normally lost for words.
“Charlie, it’s better than that. It’s finally being real, being who you always were. Better than any night on the piss could ever be!”
Naomi was nodding in agreement.
“This young woman, I was beginning to despair. She used to sneak out of the house with her bosom visibly there, ride some silly distance or other, and then return home, only to go off to work with everything bound as flat as she could force it. We all knew, all the neighbours: we were simply awaiting her decision to stop playing hide and seek. Her husband, though, is a dab hand at relaxing those he meets. Remember that morning, Stephanie?”
The taller woman was blushing like the red traffic light behind us.
“It was just as Naomi says, girls. I saw him off to work, nighty and dressing gown, hair all over the place, HAPPY, aye? And she knocks on my door, so I answer it without thinking, and she just does that country lady thing with the eyebrows while I nearly made a mess on the floor!”
Naomi took her hand, smiling in a way that was possibly intended to be soppy but missed its landing on her face. Not by much, I have to say, but she was clearly a formidable woman.
“Rest of your life, though. Just as you have said to Charlie. I have spent too long, both professionally and in my private life, dealing with those trying hard to be something they will never be, COULD never be, never were. I watch Stephanie here, and Annie, and I see how they have ‘become’ nothing. Rather, they have ceased to try to be what they never were. Charlie, I see the same in you. One of us will be along to collect you both, and I suggest we now see about delivering you to your bed before I become maudlin”
We left her at the hospital, with long hugs and rather a few tears from all of us, even the old warhorse, and I was dropped off at the Premier Inn on the seafront, where I fretted, even after two long phone calls to my men and my mother. I was shitting myself, to be honest. All the sage advice, the wealth of experience, the support offered by our friends, it was all draining away before a cold wind of fear. They were going to cut her up. I knew it was the right thing, I knew it would heal her, but hospitals would never be my sort of place, even without my memories of Evans and Pritchard. Sod it. Booze.
There was a chain pub just up the road, but one look inside turned me right off the idea. I went back to the main shopping street that led past the Pavilion, trying to decide what to eat, and where, and I simply couldn’t face the idea of food, never mind its reality.
I walked across an odd park in the middle of a lot of main roads, and spotted a small supermarket. A steak slice and a bag of crisps helped, but swallowing was done past a huge lump where my throat should have been. I ate them walking, till I found a tiny pub in a back street, the place covered in all sorts of exuberant decoration.
Just a couple of drinks. Just to ease me into sleep.
There was the tiniest of patios at the front, barely enough room for the three picnic tables occupied by smokers, and I pushed the door open to find a rather scruffy place that went back quite a long way from its narrow frontage. They had a very plain bar, with pumps from a local microbrewery, and there was a free stool, so I ordered a pint of the ale and started people-watching to take my mind off Charlie.
It was all of about two seconds before I realised exactly how many of the clientele were obviously trans. That revelation was rammed home by the tall woman who materialised next to me and asked in a low voice why I was staring at her friends, followed by a declaration that they were a support group and not a fucking tourist attraction, that she could smell a fucking copper from forty miles away, and the final advice that if I was after a laugh I could perhaps fuck right off and find it elsewhere.
I held up both hands, digging out my conflict resolution stuff, and dumping it immediately back in its box.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to stare. Just a bit worried about a friend”
“And?”
“She, um, she gets her surgery tomorrow afternoon. Didn’t mean to stare, honest, but seeing other women like her, well, I’m just really shit scared about her. If you want, I can fuck off”
“This a trans girl? Getting GCS?”
“Yeah. Dropped her off this afternoon, going back to see her out of theatre. She’s only young. Just, well, a bit coincidental I came in here. All the other places were too full of loud blokes”
The woman laughed, and held out her hand.
“Hi. I’m Martine”
“Diane. Di. Yes. I’m a copper. South Wales”
“We’ve got one of those here. I don’t mean in the pub, but in Sussex plod. Another sheepshagger, but trans. Really sound girl”
I found myself laughing now, tension easing.
“Called Annie, by any chance?”
“You know her?”
“Only one of my best mates, isn’t it?”
“Fuck! There’s a spare chair over there; grab it, will you? We’ve got room at the table. You, my girl, are joining us tonight!”
I managed to squeeze in round the table as Martine made the introductions before she went back to the bar for more beer and multiple bags of crisps. She sat next to me on her return, took a long drink from her pint, and announced me properly.
“Di here is a good mate of Sergeant Johnson, the trans copper, OK? She’s not perving; she’s got a mate down from the Tavi and Portman for GCS, and she’s shitting herself with worry, so can we remember we are a support group and offer this girl some?”
Sometimes, I fall on my feet. The down side of their support was that I needed a taxi back to my hotel as I had somehow become rather refreshed.
I still woke at six the next morning, the day of Charlie’s appointment with sharp knives.
CHAPTER 79
The dining room in the hotel was pretty shabby, and the choice not the greatest, but they had chilled apple juice on tap and as much tea as I could drink, which helped with the beer-mouth. I loaded up on carbs and grease, before sorting out some odds and sods for a morning of wandering along the front while waiting until it was time to head over to the little hospital for my friend’s return from theatre.
I suppose I should have been there for her departure for surgery, but I was so terrified at the possible dangers I hid in the city instead, and played tourist. There was, after all, plenty to see, even if I didn’t go up on the ‘i360’, a viewing platform on the sea front.
It did make me smile, though. It is a huge tower, a pillar, really, which supports a circular viewing platform that you enter at ground level and which is then raised up the pillar to a height of five hundred and thirty-one feet (I looked it up). Thus, in the gay capital of Britain, the most prominent structure is a rigid shaft being gripped by something moving up and down it.
Ginny told me that one local nickname is ‘The Cock Ring’.
That, of course, set me to thinking about Charlie, so I walked along to the pier and played some stupid arcade games before heading into the maze of little streets called ‘The Lanes’, where I window-shopped until boredom sent me past a series of fast-food establishments and up once more to Queens Road, heading for the station, where I knew there would be a taxi rank. I found a discount outdoor clothing shop, where I wasted some more time working through the sales racks for some ‘mountaineering’ garb for my smaller man, which left me missing them both dreadfully, so I paid for my purchases and went looking for a quiet corner to make a quick call home. Of course, it started drizzling, so I ended up in a little café, drawn by the very odd announcement that they did ‘Toast gourmet’. A pot of tea, a quiet corner, and that call, which left me feeling even worse.
God, I was so worried about the girl!
I sat, drank my tea, picked up a paper lying on the next table for something to read, only to drop it on seeing it was actually the Mail. Now wash my hands…
Fretting, I crossed the road on a whim to a music shop claiming to be ‘traditional’, and to my surprise it really was. There was an older man under an explosion of grey hair behind the counter, and after I had walked around an incredibly varied range of things with strings with the sinking feeling that comes with realisation that you actually know sod-all about instruments, I had another inspiration, or at least an excuse to waste more time. I went back to the till.
“Can I help you?”
2Um, yeah, maybe. Got some friends who play this sort of thing, and my son loves it. I was just wondering what he might try. You know what I mean? Let him get a feel for things?”
“How old, love?”
“Infants’ school at the moment. Coming up to five and a half”
“Thought about a bodhran?”
There was a real gleam in his eye as he said the word, and I realised he was teasing.
“Bodhran?”
“Yeah. Irish sideways drum thing”
I remembered what I had seen young Darren playing, and had an apocalyptic vision or sixteen.
“Let me get this right: you are suggesting I buy a little boy, at his most hyperactive, a DRUM?”
That brought a genuinely warm laugh.
“Caught me out! Where are you from? I’m Nobby, by the way”
“Wales, as I am bloody sure you guessed! Diane. What are my options? The realistic ones, this time?”
“Ah. All depends on a couple of things, price being the obvious one. Usual routes into music are vocal, percussion, wind or strings. Percussion’s out…”
“I have heard my boy sing. Ouch”
“That bad?”
“Even a mother, yeah? So: strings or wind?”
“Indeed. What you need is something with set notes, something that doesn’t rely too much on accuracy, and not too fragile, I would guess”
“Spot on, Nobby! Got a friend who plays fiddle, and he would destroy one in about thirty seconds!”
Then… hang on…”
He walked out from behind the till, towards a corner of the shop that held a range of tubular stuff that included some flutes.
“Recorder? Usual school instrument, and I know you’ll probably remember it, but it is actually a sophisticated thing in its own right. No reed to worry about, no embouchure to practise”
“Embouchure? I remember my friend using that word. Plays a flute”
“Yeah. It’s like the fretless stuff, like a fiddle, compared to frets, like a mando or a guitar, or even a bloody ukulele. Notes are ready-made. Less subtlety, but easier for a novice. We do whistles as well, in all the common keys”
My face must have betrayed me, because he grinned, once more with genuine warmth.
“You really ARE a complete beginner at this, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I suppose I am. Trouble is, when I have friends like Annie and Steph, I feel a bit inadequate!”
His eyes narrowed, head tilting a little to one side.
“Flute and fiddle? Both sheepsha—er, Welsh? Dark hair and long reddish sort of thatch?”
“You know them?”
“Fuck me, how could I not? Pardon my French! They drop in every now and again, but I try and get up to the Summer thing, up in Horley. Besides, we used to have a shop in Crawley, and Annie was a regular there, both as they were and as they are, if you see my point”
I nodded.
“Yes. Known her a very long time, I have. Really good mate. You see my problem now? Don’t want to get the boy all expecting great things, and then disappoint him”
“Tell you what, love. Try some of these first. You coming to the Music Day this year?”
“Hope to. We were there this Christmas, which is what got Rhod so hooked. My son”
Nobby laid a selection of objects on the counter, some of which I recognised.
“What I suggest is some simple percussion, like this shaky egg and other stuff here. I can do you a whistle in D, one tuned piccolo, so the holes are really close together, suitable for small hands. They are really cheap, but they can play a decent tune with practice, while the shaky stuff lets him feel he’s joining in with the music, without being anywhere near as loud as a drum. What do you think?”
I left the shop with a little bundle of items to join the outdoor stuff, and a surprisingly small bill, even without Nobby’s insistence on giving me his “mates’ discount”. Up the last bit of Queens to the station, into a taxi, and off to the clinic.
I was still too early, and wasted even more time sitting in the little café until I finally, finally, saw a nurse approaching my table.
“Mrs Sutton?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you the surgery friend of Ms Charlotte Surtees?”
My stomach dropped about sixteen floors.
“Charlie. Yes. Is she…?”
A smile to match Nobby’s.
“Surgeon is really happy. No complications, nothing to worry about. They’ve taken her to her to her room, now. Would you like to be there for her when she wakes up?”
Silly question, so I just nodded, grabbing my cardboard cup, and followed her to a little room filled with flashing and bleeping things, and a slight figure in a hospital bed, a couple of other nurses with her. My escort was still smiling.
“Just need to make sure she wakes safely, and remove a few bits and pieces of equipment. They’re all normal, just things to protect her while she’s out, to keep her airway open and so on. Once we’re satisfied she’s sleeping more normally, we’ll leave you with her. There’s a buzzer just there, in case you need anything. How about another cuppa? We have some biccies as well. Don’t give Charlotte anything by mouth, though, not till she’s been checked over”
They were as good as their word, removing the cardboard beaker and its now-cold dregs and replacing it with a proper mug and a small plate of digestives. I settled down in the armchair next to the bed, working my way through the Metro’s puzzles, until there was a knock at the door. I looked up to see young Chantelle, in cycling kit.
“My Mums couldn’t get away, so I rode over. Don’t mind, do ya?”
Bloody hell, no! I didn’t mind at all, and I did my best to show my feelings with a smile as she stowed helmet, jacket and gloves in a corner of the room before raising a pannier, saddlebag thing.
“Mum Kate said you don’t give her nothing to eat or drink, but Mum Ginny, she says, ‘Yebbut, take stuff for laters’, and then she says, ‘Flip yeah! And befores!’ so I’ve brung grapes, and satsumas, and mints, and some squash to mix when she can drink, and some juice, and… just a minute…”
She rummaged in the bag, producing a steel thermos flask and a couple of camping mugs, along with a grin.
“Annie says you like hot choccie!”
When Charlie came back to us, Shan and I both had brown moustaches.
CHAPTER 80
She announced her return with a series of groans, a flutter of eyelashes, and unfortunately a grab for something, anything, to catch the few drops of vomit she brought up. Shan was quicker than me, taking one of the papier-mâché bowls from the side cabinet and holding it to Charlie’s mouth until she was finished.
“Diane?”
“Yes, Shan?”
“Buzz the nurse? She got something for me”
Two of the staff were in the room five minutes later, bustling around Charlie as they did their various medical duties, and one of them nodded to Shan.
“Yeah, I think she can, love. Back in a minute”
On her return, she had a small bowl, crockery rather than recycled pulp, and from it she produced an ice cube, which she slipped into Charlie’s mouth. Her eyebrows raised.
“Iss lemon…”
Shan grinned at me, before turning back to what now seemed to be her patient, pulling something else from her pannier: a rag doll.
“Yeah, my friend. Annie’s, she is. She’s called Tabby, and she don’t let people not get better. Ice cube thing was Eric’s idea, originally. Did it for Annie, when she had her bits sorted. Not like drinking, and taste gets rid of… hang on, girl”
The cardboard bowl again, then another of the ice cubes from the crockery one, which seemed to settle Charlie a little more.
“Di?”
“Yes, love?”
“Is it all done? All sorted?”
I reached across for her hand, as Shan waved a very pink phone at me and trotted out of the room.
“Nurse said yes, love. All sorted, yes”
The tears were slow to start, but swift to build, but they came with a smile, so I left her to her emotion. We needed no words. She found her balance eventually, and just asked, voice as soft as I had ever heard it, if I could ring Deb.
“In a sec, love. Wait till Shan gets back? Don’t want you on your own, do I?”
She indicated Tabby, and I took her point, but Chantelle was back before I could rise.
“Mum Kate says she’ll come over later, and Mum Ginny says I have to say ‘Convagilations!’ so, yeah. Convagilations, Charlie!”
I left them to their silliness and made my outside for some fresh air and a few tears of my own that I wanted to keep away from Charlie’s sight. The phone was picked up before it could ring twice.
“Can I help you?”
“Deb?”
“Di? How is she? Any problems? Is it all done? Is she out of theatre—”
“DEB! Pause. Breathe. Everything is fine. She’s awake, and a friend is with her, and Charlie asked me to ring you. I was going to do it anyway, but she asked me to, which shows she’s awake, she’s fine, and she has her priorities sorted. OK?”
“Ok… Di?”
“Yeah?”
“Sorry. Just been so worried, all of us. What’s the plan now?”
“I have to come home, Deb, but I’ll stay with her till she’s out of dock. You got my friends’ address? Where they’ll be putting her up?”
"Yeah. It’s pinned up in the main room, so the girls know where she is. You’ve got very, very generous friends, Di”
“Not the right words, Deb. Just got very good friends, in both senses, isn’t it? Good friends to me, good people to have as friends. I have been very lucky in life”
There was a short silence at the other end before she spoke again.
“Yeah. You have that. Got a question, OK? Would they welcome a visitor or two?”
So much love in that woman.
“I’ll ask, love, but to be honest I think we both know what the answer will be. Now, I am heading back in. Any messages?”
“Ah, just tell her we all send our love”
“She knows that already, Deb”
“Then tell her no dancing till next month, and we will all see her at the wedding. Oh, and Paul and Paula have set a date. This November. She’s a bridesmaid, if she wants”
I found myself tearing up, just a little. We said our goodbyes, and I headed back to the little room. Very lucky indeed.
Charlie slowly eased back into the world as the afternoon turned into evening, but she was still in some pain, which was hardly surprising. Kate was round at six o’clock, and at seven her wife appeared, with a repeat of that neologism (university had left some traces on me, it seemed) and a little jacket for the rag doll that looked rather like a nurse’s tunic top.
“Yeah, Tabby does nursing all the time, woman. She’s a healer, so we can haz uniforms!”
Her head tilting to one side, she leered at Charlie.
“I like a girlie in uniform! And out of one!”
Chantelle gave a loud sniff, just like Charlie’s signature, which caused the latter to giggle, then groan with an obvious stab of pain.
“Mun Ginny, we all know you talk crap sometimes!”
She turned to look at the patient.
“She says all that stuff, but the only girlie she likes in uniform, or not, is Mum Kate”
Kate smiled at that.
“Not quite true, Shan. My darling likes a lot of girlies, and one of them is you. Just, and I am taking notes, not in quite the same way. Am I correct, dearest sweety?”
The grin from the tall woman was spectacular.
“Busted! Let’s get Tabby dressed for work, OK?”
That set the pattern of the next few days, as I ate the breakfast at my hotel, wandered around odd. parts of the city, made my way over to the hospital for visiting duties, ate some crap or other on the way back, and spent hours on Skype with my men. Eventually, they allowed her out of bed, and then, finally, out of the hospital, with a solicitous enquiry as to whether she had the necessary circular cushion.
Naomi had volunteered as driver, so we sat quietly on a bench, cushioned in Charlie’s case, enjoying the Spring sunshine, with our bags at our feet and Tabitha sitting beside us.
“So nice to get out of dock, Di. That smell, hospital smell, it gets into your skin, yeah?”
“I know what you mean, love. Always… I had a few years when I couldn’t go near hospitals, Charlie. Too many associations. Too many memories”
She took my hand, squeezing it.
“Yeah, but that changes. That smell, now, for me, it’s going to be good memories, yeah? Making me what I should be. And you’ve got Rhod to think about, remember, with those smells to remind you. You are talking about those two bastard coppers, aren’t you?”
I just nodded, and she smiled back.
“Sisters, yeah? That Naomi there?”
“Yup! You OK standing up, or want a hand?”
Naomi was solicitous and ridiculously careful in her driving, which meant a slightly longer ride than would have been expected under normal circumstances, but in the end, we arrived at Woodruff Towers, as I found myself thinking of it, without incident. I helped Charlie out of her seat, Naomi pulling bags out of the boot as Geoff appeared from the garage, where I assumed he had been messing around with some bicycle or other.
“Steph’s in the kitchen, kettle on and ready to brew. Tea, girls, or coffee?”
Charlie waddled slowly towards the front door.
“Got any coke or something, Mr Woodruff?”
“Geoff, please, and yes. Di?”
“Oh, a latte, with goat’s milk, served in a crystal goblet with a side plate of amaretto biscuits?”
“Oh, sod off. You’re worse than Annie!”
“Tea, then, white, no sugar”
“In three. Got extra cushion on the sofa, plus Steph’s old one. I’ll dump these upstairs and then we can relax a bit”
‘Relaxing a bit’, of course, simply meant a steady procession of friends through the house and, ay Charlie’s request, a pizza delivery. What happened to having a decent curry? I thought about that one later, and I realised it actually would not have been the best of ideas after surgery on what my grandmother would have called ‘the lower body’.
Ouch.
Eventually, though, the day came when I would have to abandon her on favour of my own family, and after running her over to Annie’s house, I took my leave in ways that were more emotional than I had intended. It wasn’t just leaving Charlie; I found myself realising exactly how much Annie still meant to me.
It wasn’t that I fancied her, because there was never anything in me that swam that way, as Bridget had confirmed to her obvious regret, but it was real, and it was deep. Ashley Evans had robbed me of my teenaged years, had driven away friendships either directly, through my ‘reputation’ as soiled goods, or indirectly, via my own self-hate.
That was my takeaway from Charlie’s healing. It wasn’t a worry, though, because as I left her with Annie, Eric, Steph, Ginny, so many good people I was losing count, I finally understood emotionally the thing I had only grasped as a logic game, till then.
If people like this cared about me, I must be someone worth the caring.
CHAPTER 81
Rhod may have been glad to see me, but he had an odd way of showing it, which consisted of dumping the cat into my lap after I had slumped into the settee, followed by recounting what seemed like a century of playground gossip, largely involving children I had never heard of. Blake was at work, so Dad and Mam had driven boy and beast back to our place, together with a big pot of cawl. My larger boy was home at six, and after we had worked our way through a chip supper (I was willing neither to cook nor let Mam do so), the three of us were alone. Three, plus Fritz, who was snoring. Blake set a video going, something about climbing in North Wales he had picked up on our trip, and left boy and cat to their own devices.
“How’s the girl, love?”
“Tired, when we took her to Annie’s. Sore, still, I would think, but she’s got some very good people to watch over her. Annie even sent a doll with a nurse’s uniform to the hospital. I seem to have inherited a lot of good friends, love”
“They probably see what I saw, woman. Though hopefully I get to see a bit more than they do, if you see my point”
I snuggled up to him.
“Could be arranged, if you play your cards right”
“What cards are those, then?”
“Whatever you happen to have, of course! Hang on… what with the boy’s epic stories of adventure, and an animal dumped in my lap, I nearly forgot. Pass the phone?”
It only rang twice before the near-shout of “Powell!”
“Hiya, Lainey. How’s you?”
“Fine, all four of us, aye? How’s the new girl?”
That chimed so well with my earlier thoughts about that I felt my eyes sting, just a little. It seemed that when I took on a friend, so did all those already there for me.
“Fine, Lainey, but would I be right in thinking Annie has been keeping you up to speed?”
She barked out a laugh, so much more at ease than she had been in the dark days of her breakdown.
“You know us too well, woman! Not the reason for the call, is it?”
“Ah, I is plotting sneaksily, just as you taught me. What are your Summer plans?”
“Summer? Oh! You up for another invasion with Kev and Vicky?”
“Oh, most definitely. Two secs”
I turned to Blake.
“Before I cause a mass family argument, this Summer? Kev and Vicky and a villa?”
He used the godbox to pause the video, and our son looked round sharply.
“Want to go to the beach again for Summer, son?”
“With the silly toilets and Sassy and Tone and Taz and---?”
“Yup!”
“Yay!”
Blake turned back to me, grinning and nodding, as I resumed my own chat.
“Man and boy have said yes, so let Kev know, if you haven’t already”
Lainey’s voice was warm.
“Ah, no need. He was already asking, so it’s just a confirmation, aye? Vicky it is, she has a real nose for these places. Ought to be doing our job. Now, what is it on your mind? What exactly are you sneaksily plotting?”
“Camping, in June. Out to Annie’s place. They do a music thing, bit like the one at Christmas, just with more people and nicer weather”
“Ah again. I know the thing…”
She paused, and when she spoke again, her tone was a lot softer.
“Di, love: you do know what that weekend is all about? With Annie, as well as Steph? That killing? Melanie Stevens?”
I found myself nodding, which was always stupid.
“Yes. I am aware, Lainey. It’s one of the reasons I would like to go. With the team, if you get me. We had a bloody good break up in the North, and I would like to see that momentum kept going”
“When are you putting yourself up for them, Di?”
“Um?”
“Your sergeant’s, for starters. Several on your team should be thinking about it, aye?”
“And leave the team?”
There was a much softer laugh.
“Afraid I have been a little ahead of you there, woman. Or at least Sammy has. And Bevan Williams. You are not the only sneaksy plotter, and it has been noted in High Places that the rank structure is a little skewed. Comes from the way it was set up, aye, but there should be at least a couple of sergeants in the mix”
“Yeah, but they would have to open it out to others, people outside the team. I might not get the post, and if I get the stripes, I’ll be moved out”
“Trust in Bev and higher up, woman. I will let you into a secret here: they have asked me to draft the job description. I may just be slanting it, just a little. There’ll be two posts, and one of them will be tailored for you. The other one’s for Rhys. Keeps their diversity box ticked, aye?”
I sat for a few seconds as I chose my words as carefully as possible.
“Is this… Is this fair and open competition, Lainey?” Really?”
“No. Not in any way. What it is, to be blunt, is common bloody sense. So listen to me, go and start your studying, get the qualifications done, and take your present. Frankly, I am surprised at how you picked your career path. With your background, you should have come in Fast Stream, aye?”
“I had my reasons, Lainey”
Another pause, and this time, as she spoke again, there was almost a purr of threat.
“I do know, woman. Two arseholes in particular, am I right?”
Stop nodding, DC Sutton.
“You know it, Lainey”
“Indeed I do. I could have been there too, but my bosses pushed a bit harder. My turn to push now, aye? Do it for me? As well as yourself, of course”
Suddenly, she was laughing, and it was pure, genuine.
“It’ll sort one problem out, anyway! Lot less confusion when someone asks for DC Sutton! Speak to Bev, Di. Please. Now: Horley? Who do you have in mind?”
Subject changed, which relieved me.
“A mixture, Lainey. I want the team along, but I also want the girls. Deb’s girls, those that feel safe enough. I have been doing a lot of thinking, especially watching Annie’s lot, and it’s all about acceptance. Deb does a wonderful job, but it’s all a bubble. This would be a chance to show them there’s a world out there, one that can see them as who they really are and not get snarky about it”
“I see exactly what you mean, woman. With Sarah and that, I have a bit of an insight, aye? Now, just thinking it through, I have a suggestion…”
I listened to her plan. I liked it rather a lot.
Two days later, I was back in work, and as always it was a bit of a culture shock. Sammy had been true to his word, again ‘as always’, and we were working normal office hours for once. I gave the obligatory feedback on what Alun insisted on referring to as “woman and fanny”, before Sammy called a halt to the ensuing ribaldry.
“You lot manage to surprise me. Just when I think you couldn’t possibly get any worse, you do. It makes me proud, I tell you! Proud! Rhys, Di: you two got a moment? Interview room down the corridor? Bring a brew”
I was glad that Elaine had given me the heads up, because it was exactly what she had predicted, as Sammy rambled for a few minutes before getting to the point.
“I think we have turned a corner, mates. This team was initially set up for a specific case, but you have all done more than enough to make it a fixture now. That brings us to a crunchy point in proceedings. Chain of command. We have a gap here. It needs filling”
Rhys looked hard at me, and I gave him a little go-ahead nod to show I understood, and he took the lead.
“Why us two, Sammy?”
“What do you mean, Rhys?”
“Come off it, Sammy. Just us in here, as you planned. Stop teasing, OK? You are on about stripes, aren’t you?”
“Yes”
“Then why us two? I think we both--- I know why Diane, and she won’t admit it, but so does she. But I would like to hear it from you. We both would. Am I right, Di?”
I gave just enough of a nod to register, keeping my eyes on Sammy, then asked the killer question.
“Why us and not some of the others? I think that is what he is asking”
For the first time I could remember, I watched our boss as he showed classic displacement activity, before he caught himself at it, putting his mug down.
“Truth? Because you are both the best of the bunch, and I do not want… Fresh meat is the wrong name. I am murdering a metaphor here, but I don’t want meat that someone else has cooked, if you get me. Not going to make jokes about game birds, well-hung, no shit this time. I want, we need, a couple of sergeants. I want continuity, I want people I know, and I want sergeants who know the team. I am going to trust you two here, but who else on the team do you think would be able to pull it off. Apart from the other DC Sutton, and he is only out of the frame because I need two, two only, and he is not quite ahead of you two. There would also be problems if you were the only two selected”
Rhys pushed, once more.
“Candice? Ellen? Rob? Alun?”
Sammy shrugged, and once more I could see how deeply tired he was.
“Mate, I am not going into details about colleagues, and you should understand why, but there are very good reasons. Now, I think we’re done, so if we can get back to the room, I have another announcement to make, one a bit less personal”
“Can I run another one past the team? Afterwards?”
“Heavy?”
“No. not really”
“Then you first, OK?”
We made our way back to the others, and Sammy called for attention.
“Mrs Blake here has some words of wisdom to share. Di?”
“Um, right. Straight to the point, then. Anyone here not enjoy the week away? No? How about the music down the pub?”
Some muttering, then Lexie shouldered the role of spokeswoman.
“It was great, wasn’t it? What are you offering, Di? We all know that look!”
“Ah. I was camping at Christmas, and no, Candice, I do not ever want to, not with you, as I am a happily married straight woman. Yes it was cold, but there is a warmer version this June. I would like to see about a team run over to England”
Lexie grinned.
“Would this be the home of that tall redheaded woman? The nutter?”
Where did that bit come from? Steph had been very restrained that night.
“You talking about her climbing or her playing, Lexie?”
“Both, really. Enfys says she gets really over the top sometimes, when she plays, that is, not the walking up walls stuff”
Alun was the one to laugh, and comment.
“You still in touch, then? Just in case things… ooh, look at the colour!”
“Oh, bugger off, all of you! I liked her! I am allowed to talk to other women, you know—at least I’m not married!”
Several people together called out “Yet!”, and I did a Sammy, holding up both hands.
“Enough, you sods! It is a charity event, and yes, it is camping, but there are loads of B&B’s nearby. I thought we could go as a team, just a couple of nights, and I was also going to see if some of Deb’s lot wanted to go along. Elaine Powell’s lot are heavily involved, along with Annie Johnson’s family”
Alun looked a little puzzled.
“Who?”
“Annie Price. Used to be a sergeant here, married name”
“Oh. Ah!”
“Ah indeed. I think you know who I mean. Am I right? And it is all level, for those who might need a bit of a hand”
He nodded, and I softened my smile along with my words.
“Get Lynne out of the house with you for a bit? Anyway, everyone up for it?”
I got their agreement, and handed over to Sammy, who answered the unasked question.
“I will square it with the brass, but I will guarantee their support for this one. Start sorting out a tent and stuff, or book a room. Di will let you have date and place. Now: back to work. We have a new job”
There were a few groans, but I was watching Sammy carefully, and his smile had slid smoothly from Cheeky to Feral. Something was brewing, and I suspected he liked the idea of the new case. He didn’t disappoint me at all.
“Mates, I really, REALLY hate to leave loose ends, so I have been doing a little moving and shaking. This is connected to a certain Charlie Cooper”
I saw Jon turn pale, Rhys reaching across to take his hand in comfort, but Sammy had his own hands up.
“No, nothing like that. No more kiddy fiddlers, which is actually the point. I have been doing my own excavations, and they concern one of our witnesses. Ben Nicol-Clements”
He let the muttering build just long enough before he went hands-up once more.
“Cut to the chase, I will. I have been looking into his record, and it does not sit easily with the man we saw at Cooper’s trial. The offences that put him on the Sex Offenders’ register for life were predatory crimes, the sort of thing I’d have expected from someone like the Evans clan, and that is not what I have seen and heard about this man. Accordingly, this will be exactly what this unit is officially for, what the Yanks call cold-case work. My instincts, my nose as a copper, smell a stitch-up. While we are on normal office hours, I would really like that stitching undone, and whoever it was that held the needle introduced to the idea of actions and fucking consequences. Case files are on the table by the urn. Dig in, divvy up the roles, and let’s earn our pay”
CHAPTER 82
The next few weeks passed far too quickly, as I rarely experienced them as individual days. The files managed something new, delivering a sensation I had thought burnt out of me by Evans, Cooper, Pig and all the rest: shock.
I found myself reliving Peter Nicol-Clements comments about experiences with the police, “Back then”, and I finally understood what a different world they had inhabited.
There were bridges from that time to my own, of course, two of whom had visited both me and Sarah Powell in hospital, and showed a little of what it had been like back then, in that ‘other country’. One word came to me, four syllables that summed those people up: entitlement. Pritchard and all the others had felt it, and flaunted it next to my bed. Ashley Evans epitomised the word in his puzzled expression at his trial: ‘Which one was that?’.
I was absolutely certain Cooper had felt it as he walked that landing at Mersey View, that sense that he had a God-Given Right to use whatever lay before him, in any way he felt like, whichever act might make him feel good.
I found myself talking to Mam about it, although I avoided the details. It was all just so blatant, so casual. She just shook her head, and switched on her computer.
“Easier to show, love. Give me a minute… Hang on while I plug the speakers in… Right. Not watching all of it, but see what you think”
She had logged onto a TV catch-up site, some show that played ‘antique’ clips with a knowing smirk about the Olden Days, but there was nothing Golden there. I watched one clip where the punchline was a shop assistant referring to two customers as “You two puffs”, another one which was an episode from something about a language school, which revisited every racist stereotype imaginable and spiced it all with gratuitous sexism and jokes about tits. I looked at Mam in shock, and she just shrugged.
“My own mother’s favourite show was the Black and White Minstrels, love. Hang on… There”
As I stared in shock at a procession of men in grinning blackface, she told me how popular it had been.
“They only took it off in ’78. Still ran as a stage show for years after”
I looked up from the screen, and met a sharp stare from her.
“Dad and me, it was how we met, wasn’t it?”
“What? At a… a thing like that?”
“No, love! You are not the only one with a conscience in this family, not at all! Your Dad and me, we both used to go on Marches”
The capital letter was audible, so I fell back on the raised-eyebrows ploy, and she bit.
“Apartheid, Anti-Nazi League, that sort of thing. That is what I was trying to show you, Di: when those two fine and upstanding Officers of the Law visited you in hospital, I had already seen enough of their behaviour, of that approach to policing. Dad and me, we had a lot of talks when you chose that career, but he was right. ‘Make a difference’, he said. ‘Wash out the old rubbish, clean it up, that’s what our girl will do’, and he was right. You have an old one to look at, am I right?”
“Yes. It’s… Sod it. Mam, breaking confidence, OK? I had some dealings with a couple of men, one of whom has a record involving young boys, but that wasn’t what I saw”
“Gay man, then. It wasn’t a good time for them, back then”
“So I have discovered!”
“Not just that, love. You are all scientific now, isn’t it? Tamper-proof this, computerised that? Harder to make lies up now”
I bridled a little like that, and she did her own mini-Sammy with her hands.
“No, hear me first. Even those who thought they were the good ones, sometimes they weren’t averse to helping things along, usually when they ‘knew’ they had the right one arrested. Lynette White, Di”
“Ah. Yes”
That struck home, a local murder case where three men had been convicted largely on the evidence from one of them, who had been arrested and interviewed nineteen times over four days, initially with no access to a solicitor despite only having a mental age of eleven. I could see Mam’s point, for the case had been used in our training up at Cwmbran as a ‘How Not to Do Things’ example. I wondered how many of the police involved had been acting in what they saw as ‘good faith’. Years later, the real killer had been found following a rather differently conducted investigation, but three men had spent a large part of their lives banged away. Mam wasn’t finished, though.
“Gay people, aye? They were always kiddy-fiddlers, always ‘Keep your backs to the wall, boys’. Was this case you are on down our way as well?”
“No, Mam. Not this one”
“So it won’t have involved your old friends, then. I won’t have to see them in the papers again”
I was still trying.
“How could it all be so blatant, Mam? So, I don’t know, ACCEPTABLE? AccepTED”
She smiled, and while it started out as a grimace, it warmed quickly.
“Changed, though, hasn’t it? And it brought me and your Dad closer, and that brought you, which brought our little man as well as your bigger one. I can live with a happy ending! Now, one question, and then we change the subject, because it is not a nice one”
“OK. Your question?”
“As the Yanks say, are you looking to rip someone a new you-know-what?”
My grin was now matching hers, as feral as anything Sammy might produce.
“Oh, Mam, I bloody well hope so!”
“Good! Cuppa?”
The weeks were indeed passing, which led, eventually, to another ferocious hangover. It followed a seriously weird evening that involved folded pieces of paper and an ice bucket. Each of the papers held a name, and the barman at the Eli did the picking.
Chris was the picture, the poster child, of guile hidden behind a cloak of innocence. Somehow, he made the draw, and we were divided.
“Right! I will make some adjustments first. No married couples, so, Jonny boy, you Di and Rob are with me, Rhys, Blake and Ellen with my medic. Candice? I am going to take one for the team here!”
Office Blonde snorted.
“I am so NOT making the obvious joke, you bastard! Just explain”
“Your utterly delicious Big Boy is with Darius. You are with me tonight!”
My husband had to bite, of course.
“Oy! O’Connor! I thought it was me that was your Big Boy?”
“Darling Blake, you have been RUINED! This woman, she takes prisoners! Anyway, just a little longer to wait, a few more to come, then we are offski!”
He had explained the plan, which matched my own hen night in some ways, but with the added complication that each of the partners could have been described as a ‘stag’, although in Chris’ case it would have been one with fluffy pink antlers and a rainbow tail. Other couples gradually crept in, and their allocation was decided by a coin-toss. I realised that Chris held our team as closely to his chest as any of its other members. Yet again, Mam’s words: one of the good ones.
Gemma and her rugby player were divided, Deb and Frank, the Sedakas, as I still thought of them, Lexie and Lisa fashionably late, Tiff and Jake, Elaine and Siân. Chris was smug.
“Boys, girls and bigger boys! Tonight is a Frankie anthem! We shall be two tribes, but there will be snacks later, Marlene tells me, so it is almost time to get ourselves fuelled! Are you all… UP for it?”
I would never, ever, get used to his taste in humour, which sometimes seemed to consist entirely of innuendo, and as I thought of THAT word, an innuendo in itself, I struggled not to snort the drink I was sipping, and nearly missed the final arrivals.
Charlie was first through the door, Seb a step behind her, but their hands joined, and a very nervous smile there. My friend herself just looked serene, if a little plumper. I slipped through the crowd to hug her as gently as I could, which brought a much firmer squeeze in return.
“Not fragile, Di! Not no more! All healed, it is now…”
She paused, and her following smile was beatific.
“Properly healed now, isn’t it?”
“When did you get back?”
“Last night, evening, not too late, anyway. Had a lift”
She moved to one side, and I nearly yelped in astonishment.
“Annie! Eric! This is a bloody surprise!”
Eric was the one to reply, something about hearing that there was beer and curry on offer, as Annie just slapped his arm in mock exasperation. It was a few seconds before I felt the pressure of eyes from the other side of the group, and then there was a swirl as three men made their way across to us, and Annie blushed.
“Bryn. Barry. Alun, mate. Good to see you all”
One by one, they hugged and kissed her. I am certain that two of the men had damp eyes, but they covered it up with good humour and bad jokes, shaking hands and laughing as Eric made jokes just as crap.
Off we went to celebrate a last night of notional freedom for Darius and Chris, and Mam’s phrase came back to me.
An awful lot more than ‘one’ of the good ones were with me that night.
CHAPTER 83
Chris had really worked hard at his planning, I realised, as our ‘two tribes’ crossed paths at the halfway point. Annie had been sent off with Darius, so I had Eric with me for the first part of the evening. I decided as we started our walk that I wouldn’t pump him for info, but me and good intentions have never been the firmest of friends.
“When did you decide this trip, Eric?”
Siân looked round from the other side of him, where she was actually walking with her arm linked in his.
“My beloved did that bit. We couldn’t get across to pick up the girl, and she was already staying with them, so it made sense doing it this way. Besides, Annie knew Chris already from the old diversity road-show thing”
Eric shook his head, grinning in a way Sammy could never have managed.
“Sometimes I really do think it is assimilation, Di. From day one, it’s been like swimming upstream. Hard work, and you get nowhere, and you still end up going where everything else is”
Siân barked a laugh.
“And you would have it any other way, ah?”
A much happier grin.
“Bollocks would I, and you know it. I just regret…”
He tailed off, clearly losing himself in some memories while seeking the right words.
“Diane, understand this: I have known her a bloody long time. Not as long as you did, of course, or rather not from as long back, but almost from the day she moved over to England. I just wonder how things would be if she had found herself earlier, if you get me? It feels almost like time wasted now”
I took his other arm, squeezing it to me.
“And how does it feel now?”
“You know the answer to that one! Anyway, we have a very cheeky question… Siân? Where are you parked?”
The redhead laughed.
“You know bloody well where! Sorry, Di, but if we are being forward…”
I laughed out loud at that one.
“Mrs Powell, let me guess: you are assuming there will be space in Hotel Sutton? Of course there will… Ah! Am I right, Eric? Same favour?”
“We stopped at Seb’s family’s, and they don’t have that much room”
I couldn’t hold the laughter back after that one.
“Oh dear god! So Charlie has to bunk up with Seb because, you know, limited room and oh dear, how sad…”
All three of us hit “Never mind!” simultaneously, and I sobered just a little.
“We have a spare bedroom, as well as the stuff we bought for camping at Christmas. Rhod is with Mam and Dad, but I doubt you two will fit into---oh, Eric! Blushing?”
“No wonder you two get on so bloody well! Two of a sodding kind, you are!”
“Resistance is useless indeed, mate!”
The evening continued as such things do, and when our crew finally arrived at the Elaine Powell Bar, I was feeling rather mellow, while trying to avoid becoming maudlin, as couples were reunited, alcohol clearly removing more than a few inhibitions, judging by some of the greetings on show. The salient point was the simple fact that nobody seemed to be holding back from showing their affections. Safe space, safe people. Stories were swapped, along with what was most likely some saliva in many cases, and people were relaxed in both senses. The alcohol was biting, and that combined with the release from stress. Barry, in particular, looked serene, an arm around Candice’s waist as the other lay over Annie’s shoulder, and her own free arm hugged Alun close.
That man’s own expression of comfortable happiness really warmed my heart, as it was the best expression I had seen on his face in longer than I could remember. Thank you so much, team, friends, everyone.
Marlene brought out plates of curried stuff, most of it finger food, and I loaded up well, trying to counteract the alcohol a little, or at least leave less room for more. The ceremony was actually due the following weekend, so we would have time to recover, but I was still a Mam, with a small boy due home the following day, and my own Mam not to disappoint.
I found myself in a huddle at one point, six of us in three pairs as Barry filled Annie in on station gossip, in widescreen and well-fuelled detail. I made a comment about overloading her with detail, and Barry just roared.
“Bloody detail, aye? And this minor bloody detail standing in front of me? How the fuck did we never fucking… sorry, ladies! How did we never spot what you were, Annie? Not even after that kiddy…”
I saw the wince seize her face, as did Barry, and he pulled it back.
“Sorry, love. You know how I meant it, aye? And…”
He looked down at Candice, and his face crumpled a little.
“Not the only one, aye? I’ve been lucky, being with Bryn over there, and I see what this lot are like, how they pull together, but you never had that, did you?”
Annie, in turn, glanced at Eric, who pulled her closer.
“Barry, we have this conversation about once a month, and it’s always the same answer, and it’s also always bollocks. Someone asks her how she coped, and she says she didn’t, but as it’s my job now, she can, and it’s not true. We cope together. Simple as that. I would be lost without her. It is a two-way street, and that is exactly how it should be”
He looked across the bar, where Charlie was cuddled up to Seb as his mother hugged them both; it was clearly getting late. Sammy was long gone, Frank was helping Deb with her coat, and I scuttled across after a quick “Excuse me a sec!”
“You off, love?”
“Aye! Both of us getting old, we are”
“Quick question, OK? June, in England, camping weekend, you and the girls, and their boys, and music?”
She fastened her coat, Frank’s arm comfortably over her shoulders and a smile in his eyes.
“Would this be folk?”
“Ish!”
“And in which language? Sod it! I don’t give a shit, right now. Sort details out later; I have a warm man to get into bed and…”
For the first time, I saw her really embarrassed, but Frank just laughed out a comment about playing her cards right. She looked up at him, slightly puzzled.
“How much have I had to drink, love?”
Another happy smile from her baker.
“Does it matter?”
She pulled his head down, kissed him on the lips, and pulled back just far enough that he could see her smile.
“No. Not really. Night, Di”
That last came without her looking away from him, and then they were out of the door. I felt a presence at my shoulder, and turned to find Chris., who was looking a little dreamy.
“This is what it is all about, Di, love. Love, yeah? I never thought… Shit! Not going to get weepy, not tonight, but look at this lot! Now, Marlene is coming to the end of things, and some of us are going clubbing, but I really think Lainey needs to go to bed, and you have a little boy to see tomorrow”
I turned round to pull him close, kissing his cheek.
“You taking over mother hen duties now?”
His smile was as warm as Alun’s had been, and as soppy as Barry’s or Eric’s.
“No, girl. Just finally realising I am coming to the end of a journey I didn’t realise I was on, and it feels good, and it feels right, and it feels almost as if it should have been obvious years ago, and Stuff. I shouldn’t have spent so long talking to that Eric bloke!”
He laughed, and it was genuine and far from his usual campiness.
“Not turning me off solids, though. Horses and Persian stallions for courses! Best bib and tucker for next weekend, for all of you including your little man, and Marlene is already calling a taxi for Lainey. They staying at yours?”
“Shit! Can you tell Marlene we will need a people carrier? Annie and Eric as well”
“Will do, love. You couldn’t make do with an ordinary car and just leave your hunk with me? Annie could sit on a lap…”
“And Persian stallions?”
“Damn it! There’s always a catch!”
“Hang on, Chris: you want Rhod at the wedding?”
He cocked his head to one side, eyes crinkling.
“Elaine and Siân are bringing their two, Di. I want my family around me next Saturday! Do you mind?”
“Of course not! You do realise he will try and sing along to anything you play on the day?”
“And my mileage may vary in terms of the word ‘sing’? All the better if he does. Now, I shall collar Marlene… and then Darius…”
He was as good as his word, and after a slightly worried taxi-driver (‘None of you are likely to chuck up, are you?’) had dropped us all off at our home, we limited the latter part of the evening-that-had-become-morning to a pot of tea as Blake laid out some camping mats and a couple of spare duvets. I was so tired, I think I was asleep while taking my clothes off.
It was raining in the morning, which meant that the light coming through our bedroom curtains was a little more subdued than it would otherwise have been, for which my beloved husband seemed grateful.
“Serves you right, love. Try talking to more people; slows the drinking down. What time’s Mam due?”
“Said about twelve”
“I think we’d better get moving. Hang on… Do you smell what I do?”
He lifted his head slightly and sniffed.
“Bacon? Those buggers know how to make themselves at home, don’t they!”
I pulled on a pair of pyjamas and a dressing gown before trudging downstairs, the bacon’s aroma intensifying with each riser I descended. Three people were in my kitchen doing Things, and the one with dark curls grinned at me as I entered.
“Lainey’s still spark out, aye, but Eric and I had a walk down the road to the garage and got some supplies. What are you doing for lunch?”
“Um, I don’t know. I think Mam might have ideas”
“Ah. Might they involve roasts?”
“You inviting yourself, woman?”
“Yup! Just have a bit of an issue with roasts. Chicken’s OK, but not red meat”
Eric slipped an arm around her.
“Smells, Di. She gets flashbacks”
Oh shit. I understood far too quickly what he meant, and had a vision of old Adam in a hospital bed, with a few minor burns and a lorryload of guilt and shame.
“I will give her a ring, OK? Annie?”
“Aye?”
“You be OK with Mam here? I think she knows about you, and she remembers me talking about you, way back, yeah?”
She smiled gently, patting her husband’s hand.
“And is she sensible about it? I suspect I know the answer, aye?”
‘One of the good ones’, as Mam said so rarely but so clearly. All I could do was nod, and smile back at her. I went into the living room with the tea Annie poured for me and picked up the phone.
“Hiya, love. Up early, considering, isn’t it?”
“He’s still in bed, Mam!”
“Men will be men, love, but you will already have discovered that for yourself and in your own way. Our boy wants me to have a proper dinner with you”
“One of the reasons for ringing, Mam. We have guests after last night”
“Are they staying for a while?”
“Yes, I believe so. Four of them”
“Two of them will be that Elaine and her wife, then. Is the other that boy you were working with?”
How did she guess… Oh!
“No, Mam. Not Jon, but sort of a boy I was working with some time ago. They have problems with roast meat. Apparently chicken’s not a problem, just red meat. I suspect the worst will be pork”
Mam was silent for nearly twenty seconds, her voice hushed when she spoke again.
“I believe I can guess why, love. You, your people, you have a job… You see things I do not wish to think about. I will stop at the big shop on the way. Three small birds will cook more quickly than one or two larger ones. Do you have enough in the way of vegetables. Dessert?”
I laughed out loud.
“If you can find some, Mam, I suspect some frozen yoghurt would be appreciated, at least going from recent experience”
“I will do my best, love. Now, be off and rouse your other man so he has time to work off the hangover I suspect he has gathered to himself. And I forgot to ask: how did the evening go?”
“Oh, Mam! So many happy people I nearly cried. I was thinking about you, as well, you know”
“Oh?”
“Just something you say, yeah? ‘One of the good ones’, isn’t it? And there were so, so many of them there, and they were smiling, and… Sorry. I should have better control, at my age”
As I wiped away a couple of tears, she sighed, and it was a happy sound.
“My darling, you just carry on being who and what you are, just keep making me and Dad proud of you, all right? Now, go and pull the covers off our son while I get our grandson dressed. I will see you at about twelve”
I did as she had instructed, pushing ‘their son’ into the shower (and sneakily reaching through the curtain to switch it to cold when he turned his back, which certainly got him moving).
Bacon, egg and mushroom sandwiches together with mugs of tea settled everything down, even for Lainey, who was book-ending hangovers with my husband. I left them all in the living room to carry on doing whatever ‘mingling’ is called in such circumstances, and settled myself to peeling and chopping potatoes, swede and carrots, and shredding white cabbage. I had just set the oven to heating when I heard the bell. Putting down the rather large cook’s knife I was wielding, I wiped my hands and went to open the front door.
“Mam! We got chickens! Why have we got three chickens, Mam? Can I have two legs?”
I hugged him after Mam, then began peeling off his coat as she undid his shoes. Once they were off, he rushed into the living room as Mam released the cat from his carrier. I called after him about there being guests, but to no avail. The door flew open, and as he rushed in, Mam and I heard him shout.
“Auntie Annie! Yeah!”
The two of us followed, to find him wrapped round my old friend where she sat on one of our armchairs. Mam caught the soppy expression on my face, and whispered in my ear.
“Not just one of the good ones, love, but it looks like she is one who knows the right way she should live her life It is so clearly what she should always have been”
She raised her voice.
“Rhodri ADAM Sutton: will you introduce me to your Auntie Annie, please?”
CHAPTER 84
Just the slightest of twitches in reaction to Mam’s deliberate stressing of the boy’s middle name, and of course I understood her purpose. My son turned his wide-eyed gaze to Mam.
“This is Aunty Annie and she lives in England by a church with aeroplanes and she plays a flute and she doesn’t speak Welsh but Aunty Steph Mrs Woodruff does!”
Pick the sense out of that lot, Mother dear. Mam smiled stepping forward to shake Annie’s hand.
“Hiya! I’m Dot, his Nana. My daughter was always talking about you, when you were working together. Roast chicken do you?”
Bless you indeed, Mam, for talking as if it had always been Annie, and never Adam. She looked around the room, taking in the bodies slumped in chairs and sofa.
“Well, it will take about two hours to get dinner ready, but all that time will NOT be spent standing in the kitchen, by neither of us!”
My larger man looked embarrassed at that, eyes flicking round the room before rising and bringing two dining chairs over, settling himself into one.
“This will do me, Dot. Need anything sorting?”
“You in any fit state, son? I hear it was a very good night. For several of you, Elaine”
I wanted to buy popcorn, settle into a chair and enjoy Mam’s gentle skinning of people I loved, but dinner needed some work, so I settled for taking a few mental notes for the future. My mother had class as well as skill, but it was all being done with love and a twinkle. It was all slightly derailed, of course, by the prattle of one little boy.
“Mam wants to go for the music with the tent, Aunty Annie! Are you going to be there? And Aunty Steph?”
Annie cocked her head, smiling down at him.
“I suspect I will, love. It is sort of our thing, me and Aunty Steph”
“Can we ride on the goblin train again?”
As the exchanges continued, I caught just the slightest of snorts from my mother.
“Mam? Time to get it all sorted and in the oven?”
Once back in the kitchen, she hugged me to her.
“You will no doubt have heard this too many times, love, but thank God you never made the mistake of asking her out! How did you ever miss what she was?”
I found myself looking down at my hands, but the words were there, just for once.
“Ease, Mam. It was so easy to talk to her, and… I wasn’t exactly overflowing with self-confidence back then, was I? With men?”
“Ah, no, love. That you weren’t. Not surprising, was it? I am just…”
She stopped speaking for a few seconds, before fixing her eyes on something outside the kitchen window, something I realised was actually years and miles away from where we stood.
“We ran away, Dad and me”
“You came back, though”
“Shush. We nearly lost hope, your Dad and me. Then you started talking about this boy at work, and we hoped, but he was gone to England, so we… Did you know we had other hopes?”
“What do you mean?”
“Bridget, love. We thought, well, if you were so hurt by men, then, well, would it be so bad if you found your love another way? I look at the Powells, aye? I see how strong they are together, and I see how it might have worked for you”
“I am not gay, Mam!”
She chuckled.
“You very nearly ended up that way, though! Sat in there cuddling our little boy, she is! And I give thanks to the Lord that you are not that way only because, if you had been, we, Dad and me, we would not have two men in our lives that we both love, and that is enough on that subject. Now: I need gossip, I need scandal. Tell me about last night…”
Dinner was a delight, Mam’s cookery skills putting my own to shame, and Annie surprising is all by offering and preparing a sliced-potato dish she called a ‘bastard tartiflette’ (I looked it up afterwards) that was, she assured us, something Ginny would kill her for.
Rhod, of course, had to ask why. I simply filed the recipe away for future use.
We spent the rest of the afternoon in comfortably replete conversation, and there was no question whatsoever that the foursome would stay another night. I am sure I saw moisture in Mam’s eyes as she left.
Blake and I had work the next day, and one small boy ha school, so I simply left the others with a spare key, trust not exactly being a worry. It felt like a loss when I returned to the empty house, but I consoled myself with thoughts about the Summer.
Things continued as they had before the stags night, and I found myself disappearing more than once into that zone of mine as I continued to excavate the history of one Benedict Nicol-Clements.
It stank. It reeked to high heaven, to be accurate, and Mam’s words came back to me more than once, but I found myself disagreeing with her. Too much of what I was reading wasn’t a case of honest coppers cutting corners to ensure a real villain was put away for long enough to protect the innocent, oh no. It did, indeed, stink. I knew that my favourite pair of colleagues could not possibly have been involved, but they had clearly been cloned and the resulting filth employed on Merseyside, for once confirming that age-old insult.
I found myself shuddering. It wasn’t just the victimisation of men for the non-crime of being gay, it was the simple equations of resources and time. How many pieces of shit like Charlie fucking Cooper, and the Parsons, and all those who had raped Ben, Deb, Stevie Elliott, how many of them had never been challenged, had been left to carry on with their obscenities, while Real Men in uniforms just like mine had been teaching poofters lessons in life? Whatever their reasons, I had my own focus, and the more I saw of the corners that had not just been cut but bulldozed, the more I dug, and the more I dug, the more that emerged from under a whole mountainside of rocks.
I put it all away at the end of the week, of course, for the whole family had an appointment at a registry office, and in ‘whole family’ I include my parents, who astonished me in their knowledge of who I knew, and how, and why.
It was a wedding, of course, but there were other dynamics. The number of coppers in the place was positively abnormal, even for a Wales home match, and while both ‘grooms’ had a best man, Darius had opted for a rather un-dragged Marlene, while Chris had called on Elaine. It was certainly a wedding, Jim, but not as we knew it.
It didn’t matter: women, and some men, cried. Toasts were made, after dreadfully non-cutting speeches by Marlene and Lainey. A bloody good, if rather unusual, meal was eaten, courtesy of a local pink support charity, whose chefs included both Fahmi and Debbie Mohammed, and whose desserts had a most definitely Gemma input.
Even Rhod’s singing was moving towards a variety of tunefulness. It hadn’t quite arrived, but I had hopes. One real surprise was the presence of Elaine’s Uncle Arwel and Aunt Alice, which pleased me hugely. Chris had done so much, had put his life in jeopardy, out of love for others, and they were paying him more than just respect.
It was a bloody good day, and in a final twist, the two people it was all about left the reception in a tuk tuk for the Central Station, where they would catch the train to Rhoose and a flight to Barcelona.
A bloody good day indeed. It was only equalled, not surpassed, when Paul and Paula tied their own knot a month afterwards. So much of Bridget’s advice was not just being followed, but actually lived, by so many people around me. It got even better over the next two months, as other Forces started on a series of interviews relating to Ben’s convictions. If I say that those Forces around Merseyside were not backward in coming forward to assist us, I will be making a serious understatement. Cooper’s trial had certainly opened eyes, as well as reddened some faces, and damage limitation had turned into some very enthusiastic spring-cleaning. My initial reaction to reading Ben’s case files had turned into smug satisfaction as I read a number of transcripts that revealed a culture that matched everything Mam had described.
My own comment had been spot on: it had indeed been open season on gay men. Unfortunately, two of the Officers involved had passed away, but there was enough in the files to show how badly justice had been perverted. The final touch was almost a thank-you from the Cheshire Force, who asked me up to sit with one of their own people, Detective Inspector Lois Mulready, as she interviewed one Graham Linehan, a newsagent from Bootle, who had once been a fourteen-year-old boy.
Yes, I know all men were once fourteen, but that isn’t the point. This man had been Ben’s alleged victim. Lois was as smooth as Jon, and after the preliminaries, the dance began. It wasn’t a long one, because I gathered that Cheshire had been rather free with their publicity around the investigation. The solicitor was already well-prepared.
“Mr Linehan has a statement prepared in this matter. He asks that due consideration be given to his age and vulnerable situation at the time of the events we are discussing. May I read it out?”
Lois nodded.
“For the benefit of the tape, Mr Fowler will now read the prepared statement of Graeme Linehan, who is not at present under arrest. I must warn you, Graeme, that if evidence emerges of criminality in this matter, I will be obliged to caution you, and you must then consider whether you wish to continue with this reading”
Fowler nodded, and started on what looked like a reasonably thick sheaf of A4 paper. He got as far as a description of discussions with a certain DC O’Sullivan before Lois called a halt.
“Graham Matthew Linehan, I must caution you…”
She ran through the words smoothly, then asked if he wanted time to consult with his solicitor. Linehan shook his head, expression weary.
“No. I have been waiting too many years for this to happen. Waiting for that knock on the door. I know what happens next, and it’s arresting me. Could we do that bit later? I won’t say I am happy to stay and answer your questions, but I am willing to, and I would really like this put away. Before you put me away, like. Can you give me the statement, Mr Fowler? I think I’ll read it myself”
It wasn’t like Pritchard and Evans, with nothing but criminality lying behind their behaviour, but it felt much worse. As Linehan gave us his story, it became one of coppers who believed in what they were doing, really told themselves they were ‘protecting little boys, and they had done it with the help of bribery, coercion and blackmail. Linehan had been picked up for shoplifting, and as Ben had been such am obvious danger to little boys, well, you’ve got to look after kiddies, haven’t you?
Lois arrested him in the end, then sorted out Inspector’s bail after he had been booked into the system while ‘investigation continued before a decision on whether to charge’ was made. It all seemed too easy, and as the DI treated me to a surprisingly decent coffee from her own stocks, I made exactly that comment, and she laughed out loud.
“How long have you spent putting the case together, woman? How many man-hours? That was his second interview, and it was done after we handed over a shitload of stuff from your office. He wasn’t caving in quickly, he was just getting his contrition in as early as he could. We did our own digging, you know? Not too many cash machines back then, and our Financial team went through O’Sullivan’s cupboards. Stupid man had kept old cheque books going back decades, don’t know why. Cash withdrawals on exactly the dates Mr Nicol-Clements warned us about. They are both screwed nine ways from Sunday, and they know it”
She paused to take a sip from her cup, then grimaced.
“Not the best analogy, really, considering. I followed those cases, Diane, Cooper’s, including the other stuff in Bradford. Nicol-Clements was the child we should have been protecting, him and Deborah Wells, and we failed. That hurts. Now, how do you want to play this?”
“Pardon?”
“Are you after a big court case, dragging everything out again, which would not be nice for the real victim, or is there a less stressful way?”
I caught just a whiff of ‘canteen culture’, just as she caught my tells.
“No, Diane. Not a cover-up, but pragmatism. O’Sullivan’s running mates are no longer with us, he himself is in the early stages of dementia, so there is no real way to hurt him in any way that his own body isn’t doing. Linehan will get off with a ‘vulnerable kid’ plea, and I do not see that going anywhere in terms of prison time”
“You think he’ll get off?”
“Nope, not that one. He will pick up a conspiracy to pervert and a perversion, but the mitigation will be massive. I still want to see him in the dock, though”
“Why, if he’s likely to walk?”
“Why? Diane, why are you here? Why did you open this can of worms again? It was Nicol-Clements, wasn’t it? Getting his conviction quashed?”
“Guilty, if that’s not a bit of an inappropriate word right here. Yeah. I felt that when I first met him”
“Then if we get a couple of convictions, Linehan and O’Sullivan, everything gets easier. What is your friend like? He is a friend now, isn’t he?”
“Yes, I believe so”
“Then he is indeed a lucky man. Biccy?”
CHAPTER 85
I left Chester with a real sense of hope, while wondering what else DI Mulready had in the way of evidence against Linehan or O’Sullivan. I suspected that my team had not been the only ones digging for things other than gold. There would still be a long way to go for Ben and Peter, but I had a feeling that it wasn’t going to end badly.
Sometimes, my job got to me. While it was all too often in ways that left me understanding how many demons rode on Annie’s shoulders, there were moments where I felt on top of the world. Wrongs put right, some of the demons slain, a little more brightness introduced to that world I lived in; that sense of hope rode with me all the way back to Cardiff, where I shared the results with Sammy over some of the pastries that had been calling my name from Frank and Gemma’s place, and somehow managed to fall into my bag.
With the chips/bread and butter tradition, and her cakes, I was going to end up like a whale if I wasn’t careful. I took a cuppa to an interview room for a wash-up with Sammy.
“So what do we have, Di? Not details, mate: just broad strokes and what our options are. Do we have a file the CPS will run with?”
“Absolutely, Sammy. Not ours to run with, though, is it?”
“I take your point, but you take mine, I am sure. Our case, no matter who fires the starting gun in court. What do you have?”
“Classic stitch-up, in summary. I am finding this a hard one, in some ways. I can sort of see why the people involved did what they did. Don’t approve of it, don’t bloody agree in any way, but I can see a sort of logic in the whole thing”
“Sympathy for the Devil, mate?”
I put on my own version of a feral grin.
“None whatsoever, Sammy. Nasty, bigoted shits, all of them, but what’s that stuff from the Equality Act? Proportionate way to achieve a legitimate end, or whatever? That was what they thought they were doing. They just utterly wrecked somebody’s life in the process. Reminds me: I need to let them know, but I’m not sure if I should wait until the CPS has finished buggering about”
I played with my tea for a while in displacement.
“I never know which way that lot of idiots will jump, so I have sort of decided to wait until the charging is done”
“What about waiting till the trial is over?”
I could feel what he was doing, testing my assessment of the case, measuring my judgement.
“No. The trial is a formality. Main man has coughed the lot, his handler no longer knows which century he’s in, and there’s so much documentary evidence they’ll need a forklift for the jury bundles. I will ring Peter and Ben once Cheshire confirm there are no issues with the charges. I might want to be at the trial, though, to give them some support”
I laughed as a rush of memory caught me, Sammy’s eyebrows rising in mute enquiry.
“Just remembering my own trial, Sammy. Ashley Evans, yeah? So many people there to support me, not left to face it all on my own, and it helped me realise how well-off I am. I was thinking I would offer the same favour to Peter and Ben, and then I realised they will probably have the whole Elliott clan down for their event. I now find myself in the really odd position of feeling sorry for a scrote! Linehan is going to be shitting himself!”
“Linehan?”
“Stupid little teenager who took the backhanders that put our friend in the crap. Not a teenager now, obviously, but you know what I mean. Anyway, case closed, job’s a good’un, all that shit. Change of subject: are you up for two months’ time? Our trip to Surrey?”
That brought a bark of laughter.
“You want me in a tent?”
“Absolutely! And I am told there is dancing!”
“Oh bollocks!”
“Team do, Inspector Patel!”
“What about the wife?”
“Bring her along. She’s seen you pissed before. I know this, because we have loaded you into a taxi on more than one occasion, so unless you have a VERY odd home life…”
A snort, and a happy grin.
“Oh, go on, then. Can’t be any sillier than that week up north. I will see about getting a tent”
As soon as I was back at my desk, I mailed him some links to the outdoor shop’s website. I made sure I put a read-receipt on the mail—get out of that one, Patel. A week later, they charged Linehan and O’Sullivan.
So it was that I found myself once more in a car peeling off the M25 onto the M23, Rhod asking loudly when we would be able to see the aeroplanes.
“In a few minutes on this next road, son”
There was a rustle from the back seat, so I looked over my shoulder to spot the expected guilty party, and I was not wrong.
“Dad, we do not need the road atlas. We have a satnav, and we have been there before, and we know the way”
“Yes, and what happens to your precious satellite stuff if you lose power? A map doesn’t run out of battery life!”
“Dad, if we run out of what you call battery life, it will mean the engine has stopped. If that happens, we won’t be going anywhere, so we won’t need a map, will we?”
Mam was giggling.
“Mark, love, understand that our daughter here is a mother now. That means she has special powers in arguing, powers men never get, isn’t it? Put the map away! How far now, love?”
“About fifteen, twenty minutes, I think. We go past the airport. Little loop, then we are there”
“What about a cuppa?”
Blake’s turn to laugh.
“I think, knowing Mrs Vicar, that there will indeed be enough tea to float one of the planes”
“Planes don’t float, Dad!”
My own father answered that one.
“Some do, Rhod. They call them flying boats”
And so it went, as we crested the couple of rises before the first sight of approaching and departing airliners seized my little man’s attention, and slowed Dad’s explanation of nautical aviation (and boasts about the capacity of his camp cooking equipment). The traffic was horrible for a mile or so before we cleared the airport, and then it was familiar: past the garage, past the church, turn down the back road to the pub, and find a slot to park in. As we passed St Nicholas’ church, I had noticed that the field across the river had been opened up for parking and camping, and there were already several tents in place.
I was feeling excited, in many ways. It wasn’t just the opportunity of meeting so many old friends again, and being able to introduce them to my family and to each other, but also another demonstration of Bridget’s answer to everything. This was living our lives well.
Out of the car and stretch all sorts of body parts, Blake hurrying off with the boy for an urgent visit to the pub’s facilities, and me and my parents left to start hauling out tents and kit. Where were the drudges I remembered?
Onto the grass, find the Edifice and pitch two tents nearby after effusive greetings from Jan and Bill. A couple of minutes later, and it was “Aunty Jan!” as Rhod piled into her for a hug.
“Hello, young man! Are you staying with us this time?”
“Can I, Mam? And Tone and Sassie?”
Jan was clearly as much in Mam-mode as myself, and in short order we had tents up, sleeping bags aired and a nest, small persons for the use of, constructed., which entailed an explanation to Small Person Number One that it was for that evening and not for Right Here and Now.
Children. Who’d have one?
We had set off as early as we could that Friday, the sun bright in our eyes for the first hours of the journey, and that morning’s promise was delivered with brilliant blue skies and a warmth that actually made the tent uncomfortable when zipped up. All three boys were now in shorts, having changed in the Edifice, before we answered Mam’s question with a visit to the church hall, where Mrs Vicar did indeed have a moderately=priced cuppa available for us, next to several trays of flapjacks and sponge cakes, which reminded me that this remained a charity event.
Merry was as sparkling as her name, and insisted on a hug on our arrival.
“My dear cuz is at work, Diane, but she will be here at four. Have you ensured you have a hat with you for tomorrow morning?”
“Eh?”
“My beloved will be holding a service at nine o’clock sharp, and you will be there, I have no doubt. You will needs be decent in His house”
I supposed that even though we were in the church hall rather than the church itself, it was still technically “His house”, so I kept the “WTF?” to myself. Annie hadn’t mentioned that bit, but then again, Christmas had involved carols, and a service, so why should this one be any different? I had packed a sun hat, so it would have to do. I made polite comments to Merry while wondering if I could manage to sneakily oversleep.
And sod the worries about turning into a whale: I bought several pieces of sweet naughtiness, along with our drinks, and we left the hall to walk straight into Elaine and her family, which released us from a small boy’s attention for the rest of the day.
“Elaine, Siân: Mam and Dad, Dot and Mark. Just got here, Lainey?”
“Aye. Settled the kids into their nest, saw you were already in place. Feels strange, aye? Being here before the usual suspects?”
“Well, be a few more over later. Team do, isn’t it?”
Elaine is a woman of strong emotions, which she can rarely disguise, and that time was not one such moment, as a grin split her face. I nodded.
“Even Sammy, and he should have the wife with him”
“Oh, such rich opportunities for blackmail! No, Inspector Powell: not appropriate. Naughty woman! Mature mother and plasmon, aye? Now, serious stuff. Mark and Dot, was it? Has Di explained to you where this weekend comes from, and why?”
Her grin had gone, and I fully understood why. She took my nod of permission, and turned away, gesturing for my parents to follow her.
“Mark, Dot, I need to tell you a little story, but I will show you someone first…”
People were now arriving in a reasonably steady stream, which included clumps of colleagues, and I was so busy saying hello and directing people to available spaces around our tents that I almost missed the return of my parents.
Mam was wiping her eyes, while Dad was tight-lipped with anger. He shook his head, looking off past the church for a few seconds before turning back to me.
“Light and darkness, love, isn’t it? We find out how lucky we really are on days like this. I think Mam and I will be at the church tomorrow. For the service, yes? And… and I will continue to wonder where your friend Annie finds her strength. Distraction. I need to cleanse my mind. Aeroplanes? How do we see the planes?”
That one I could remember, so we gathered three hyperactive infants together, while Blake remained on meet and greet duties, and with Mam and Dad I led them by way of the number 100 bus and a ‘secret stairway’ to a ‘goblin train’ and the inevitable multiple trips back and forth. We picked up some odds and sods such as milk and child-cleansing stuff from the airport shops before heading back to the airport and our first night under canvas as a family.
There may have been other events before then, such as our walk into the edge of the town to the ‘Taj Balti’ Indian restaurant, and the actual evening itself, but that was our endpoint of the day. Other events…
Our team arrived in clumps, as I have said, and some clumps contained couples. Alun had booked himself and Lynne into a guesthouse almost directly across from the church, but the others had tents, and some of them knew how to put them up. What was worse was that some of our friends thought they knew how to put theirs up, and also how to put up those of other people. I suppose that was our first real entertainment of the day, as a newly arrived Eric, Annie, Darren and Steph moved from tent to tent, somehow managing to stifle both laughter and swearing in equal measure. Sammy surprised me with his facility, as did his wife, who seemed to have a real eye for structures. I caught her shaking her head at one incredibly inventive piece of complete incompetence, and managed to put my foot so deeply into my mouth I couldn’t see how I would ever extract it.
“Hi! Diane!”
“Sonia. Duw, how do they do it? I thought they’d already found all the wrong ways, and then, bang, along comes another!”
“Surprising, that. Don’t see that many women so clued up on tents”
“I’m not. I’m just a civil engineer by profession”
Come friendly ground and open up… Somehow, I managed to rescue myself from my sexism, turning the conversation onto safer, but still dodgy ground.
“I am told it’s all dancing tomorrow. Square dance stuff. Don’t know what I’ll be like at that. I was just thinking it might be like the tents. You know: all sorts of different, um, interpretations of the instructions”
Sonia’s grin was so clearly like Sammy’s I managed to relax.
“You got the video camera ready, then? How’s it go? Fun and profit through blackmail?”
I knew Sammy; I should have expected nothing else from his other half. The afternoon continued, up until our little feeding trip, and people arrived, greetings were given, to friends, team-mates, odd individuals half-remembered from Christmas, including the French ones, and I was starting to get a little lost. Eric and Geoff were setting up microphones and speakers in the hall, a bar was clearly already in place next to an obvious outdoor dancefloor and the weather gods continued to smile down on us. Mam and Dad had found Arwel and his wife, Rhod was immersed in a horde of other children, some of whom spoke English, and I had found a piece of wall to sit against as I simply basked in warm sun and contentment.
Safe. Surrounded by friends, old and new. I sat and watched more trays of food being carried from a white van into the hall, and it was a stupidly long time before I recognised the two porters as Frank and Gemma’s boyfriend.
There was enough space to either side of me, so I simply sat where I was as I was joined by Tiff and Charlie, and I closed my eyes once more in the warmth of that sun and the people I loved.
CHAPTER 86
The wall was almost as warm against my back as the sun was in my face, but the ground remained unforgiving. I felt my rump aching slightly, and when I stood up it was with some definite awkwardness, as the required muscles had all gone to sleep. It was the first time in ages I actually heard a Charlie sniff, but this one came with a twinkle.
“Numb bum, Di? Should’ve brought a rubber ring! Some of us know these things!”
Not now, DC Sutton; leave it at a grin and offer a hand up. Well, wobble some life into your legs first.
“Who’s come over, Tiff?”
“Um… Deb and Frank, Gem and her fella. And, er, our two. Oh, and Paul and Paula. Kim’s watching the house”
I understood the reality behind that one, because there was no way Deb was ever going to abandon her charges unless she could leave them in safe hands. There were limits to her ability to relax, but I still hoped she could expand them enough to enjoy the weekend. I cast my eyes over the nearby field, which was steadily filling with tents and vehicles, before checking my watch. Teatime for little people; I went seeking husband and offspring, as well as parents, and found them clustered around Steph, who seemed to be deep in some odd anecdote about hillwalking for once, rather than more vertical silliness. Dad was in full flow.
“Yes, and so they said it was an easy path on the map, and flat, so I showed them it wasn’t a path but a boundary, and it was only sort of flat if you turned it ninety degrees”
The redhead looked a little puzzled, then her eyebrows lifted.
“Where was this?”
“Only the gully line on Gallt yr Ogof! Di, you should remember that one. It was raining when we met them. Dutch couple”
I couldn’t hold my laughter back for long.
“Dad, saying ‘it was raining’ about North Wales doesn’t really help that much!”
“Fair point… Food? I fancy a curry, if there’s one about”
Steph pointed along the main road.
“Head along there till you see the Six Bells sign. That road continues the other side of the main road, and if you walk along it a few hundred yards there’s a parade of shops. Indian and a Thai, plus takeaways, if you prefer”
Dad was fiddling with his phone, as his obsession with guide books had clearly transferred seamlessly to on-line reviews.
“What’s the Indian like?”
“Cheap. Scruffy. Not bad food. Nice people. No licence, so take any drink you want, if it’s alcoholic”
I reached out to stop Dad from beginning his internet browse.
“Not this time, Dad. This time we just see what it’s like, yeah? Come on: I want poppadums and stuff”
“Mam!”
“Yes, Rhod?”
“Will they have mango jam?”
“I think they will, love. Now: hands wash and ready!”
It was about half a mile in the end, and it was indeed a parade of everything the post-pub trade could ever desire, from Chinese takeaway to kebab shop, all backing onto a pub/carvery with yet another ‘Number 100’ bus stop. See how full we get.
Our group initially added up to nine, with the Powells, because separating the three kids was always difficult, and the party was enlarged further by the addition of Elaine’s parents Twm and Sioned. I had spotted the ‘Carvery’ sign on the pub, and it offered an alternative if they couldn’t handle our little army, but in the end, there was no problem. A tiny Romanian girl working the counter simply smiled and started pushing tables together before answering Blake’s question with the words “Lidl, that way, two hundred metres”
Small, scruffy, cramped and rather tasty. We arranged napkins as bibs, which helped, and there were soft drinks for messy small people as well as beer and wine for older ones, and life continued to be good. Three men ended up talking about Rugby, which was enlivened when the waitress joined in. I hadn’t realised how big the sport was in the Balkans, but she really seemed more like a host at a private home than a waitress doing a job. We ambled back as a happy and replete party, just in time to catch some other arrivals before the evening followed its expected course into silliness of a musical nature. Gentle silliness, with a curfew, but enough for smiles. I slept well, until dear Rhodri returned from the child-nest in the Edifice to begin sleeping-bag-bouncing.
“Mam! Mam! Aunty Jan says up and atom and be neat and tidy for church!”
What was that word of Annie’s? Arsebollocks; that was it. I sent him back out to alert Mam and Dad, before beginning the process of removing the taste of curry and other stuff from my teeth... Dress… Where was that sun hat? The hall was offering breakfasts at a reasonable price, so sod cooking, and then finish off the tidiness necessary to slither past my mother’s appraisal, while trying to ensure one small person stayed as unsullied as possible. There was a queue at the door to the church proper, and we were each handed a little carnation to pin to our tops, which struck me as a little unusual, but given where we were, and in whose company, that word was rather like Dad’s comment about Snowdonia and rain. We found ourselves some seats, Dad began the process of marking the hymns listed by the pulpit, and Rhod, Sassie and Little Tone began hitting each other with pew cushions.
That all stopped at the appearance of the vicar himself, Simon, who was grinning away happily in a way I was coming to recognise as his signature. The old hymn tile said it: Joy to the World. The Choir was full of singers, including Arwel and his son, along with a mix of others that included a young woman that was clearly Down Syndrome from he features. I had expected to see the usual suspects back in place before the altar, instruments in hand, but there was only an older woman on the organ to deliver any musical titillation. I was tired, I was in a church, and I had a bloody hat on, and it was a little while before I realised Elaine was missing, just as Alun appeared at my side.
“Need you outside now, girl”
I followed him out of a side door near the front of the church, beginning to worry about a whole string of possible issues, including Lynne’s health, before I realised what was going on.
Sat at the front of the pews had been a grinning Paul and a rather nervous Frank, Deb nowhere in sight. You devious bitch, Wells! Alun led me round to the more usual door, where that woman was waiting, circlet of flowers on her head and bouquet in hand, three grinning younger women in attendance. Deb waved at them, her own nerves clearly there.
“Girl needs a chance to be a bridesmaid, Di. Can’t imagine three finer”
“I am honoured, Deb, but you could have given me some warning. Anyway, not exactly a maid, am I?”
Her face clouded, before clearing.
“What? Oh! No, not you. Three’s enough. And the Matron’s just arrived. Hiya, Rosie! Cut it fine, why don’t you?”
I had completely missed her arrival, but she was there, and while it was in a dress rather than leathers, she still had a presence to her.
“Copper”
“Wildcat”
Her face broke into a grin, and she stepped forward to hug me.
“Just the once, aye, and no photos! You ready, Deb?”
“Think so”
“No. Are you fucking ready for this? Do it or say fuck it, but choose now”
I took a glance up towards the lych gate, and they were there, as I had expected, patches as visible as the enamel badge on Wildcat’s blouse. I didn’t expect her to hang around after the completion of what was clearly planned. Almost on cue, the organ started up with the traditional Mendelssohn, and Deb grinned at her old friend.
“Then it is ‘Fuck it, let’s do it’, then. Come on, Girls”
They started to follow her in, and as I stepped forward, Wildcat turned on the spot.
“No. Not you. Not yet”
Eh? Another voice spoke just behind me: Jon.
“Give them thirty seconds, Di. Then it’s us. Here, take this”
It was a small box, and I goldfished for a few seconds before he took my arm.
“Off we jolly, aye? I think you know how it works; you’ve had practice already”
Into the church, the organ still playing, where Paul stood beside Frank, Wildcat beside Deb, and Rhys was just entering from a side door on Elaine’s arm.
I felt utterly stupid, but Simon the vicar was beaming, the organ had stopped as the choir drowned it out, and Jon was right: I had a bit of practice at that sort of event. Simon waved the singers to an end.
“Dearly beloved, and I never tire of hearing and saying those words. I am fortunate indeed to have found a place in this world that allows me such joy in my work, and today it is another moment of such delight. I am aware that this may be a surprise to many of you, but this morning I ask you if you will stay to witness the joyful union of Deborah and Francis, and that of Jonathon and Rhys. If you feel that such is not for you, then our kitchen remains open, and there are refreshments available at reasonable prices before we begin the day’s customary festivities”
He paused for a minute or so, and there were a few departures, but not many. Fuck ‘em if they can’t take a wedding.
“I have been fortunate indeed to preside over the marriages of many of you, but each remains a wonder to me, a true sacrament of the highest. That two people should find each other, should enjoy love and companionship through life, is precisely what our Lord intended when he created us, but it is made even brighter by its sharing. That is what today is all about: sharing, declaring one’s love to others, spreading joy throughout. Now, I have spoken for too long, and there are four people before me with important and wondrous things to experience…”
It went as such things should, and I didn’t drop the ring, and the choir was amazing, and the sun was shining, and I didn’t realise how hard a happy woman could cry, because we were all doing it. I looked around the pews as soon as I could see clearly, and it still appeared full despite the little flurry of exits. Jon just looked stunned, but we managed to make it to our own exit, where there were photographs and bad jokes.
Sneaky, sneaky bastards. I found Simon at my shoulder, after a few moments of soppiness, and he was grinning.
“You looked rather surprised, Diane”
“Rather surprised? Bloody astonished! When was all this sorted? How? Why here?”
“Ah, it was after Christmas. Elaine was rather busy on this one. Which should explain the link, I suppose, as so many of her people have been here before. I will admit, though, that it was our cousin Annie who did most of the legwork, which should cover any other confusion about ‘why here’. I believe you know her rather well?”
“Um, yes. We worked together for a while”
“Then you will understand. My darling wife spoke to me of Annie’s love of her family, of how they worked together to bring them round so that they could be there for her own wedding, and I suspect she feels similarly about her old colleagues. Annie is a woman strong in her roots, Diane. This is part of it”
I watched the couples as they celebrated, Wildcat off to one side talking to…
Oh shit. She finally gave Steve Barraclough a hug and a peck on the cheek, before heading off towards the lych gate and her sisters. On instinct, my eyes swept the church yard until I found Sammy, who held my gaze for a second before a very emphatic little shake of the head, which he followed up with his bladed hands making a capital ‘T’ shape. Into the church hall, mugs in hand, back outside and straight into it.
“Rosie’s away home, Diane. I think we leave it there, mate. I believe the subject of our possible further enquiries may no longer be with us, OK? Nice hat, by the way”
“Nice change of subject, you sod. Did either of you bastards give any clue they were planning this?”
“Nope. Well, apart from the honeymoon leave bookings and the name change applications for new warrant cards”
I started laughing, as my two men came up, so I had to choose my language more carefully than I had been about to.
“Mam! Mam! Going to be dancing soon Aunty Annie says can we dance Mam and can we have chips and a burger?”
Sammy made a subtle finger-to-lips gesture of ‘silence’ before heading off to find his wife, and I settled back into a more normally festive day. So many friends, including the ones I had never met. Several of those friends gathered outside to play for dancing, which we did indeed do, my father surprising me yet again with abilities I had never suspected he had, Mam screaming with delight as he swung her with facility and extreme velocity.
Rhod did indeed dance, in a set of children overseen by several of the Woodruffs, their squeals almost drowning out the music. By ‘their squeals’, I don’t just mean those of the children, for Steph’s in-laws were rather manic about their guidance of young people.
It was sunshine and music, dancing or lying on soft grass, soft drinks and smiles. I decided not to go looking for people to say hello to, as I was surrounded by my own family, and there was more than enough love for the day, although we did have a sort of Brownian motion around us as many folk did come up and say ‘Hi!’ before melting back into the crowd.
Smiles. Hand-holding, or arms around waists. Lovers, mates, laughter. In the end, though, it had to come to an end, and Simon was at the microphone once again.
“Thank you all, as always. That is the end of another music day at St Nick’s, and I am delighted to say we have raised a significant sum from our raffle and our catering, as well as the simple matter of dropping spare change into a collecting tin. So, we shall go to the raffle winners…”
Of course we had tickets, naturally Rhod had the job of checking if we had any winners, with Dad’s assistance, and we ended up with a rolled and boneless leg of pork to take home with us, courtesy of a local butcher, which left my boy in such a state of excitement I resolved to start checking his sugar intake.
“Naturally, you will all be wondering where we will be sending this year’s donations. Well, we have a number of recipients listed, but one is awaiting completion, and will be announced tomorrow. We will be donating other sums to our own Young T charity, many of whose workers have been slaving away on the catering front today. Which reminds me: Summers!”
A short man with a beard shouted back.
“What do you want now, Your Vicarness?”
“Break is over! Back in the kitchen, serf!”
“I hear and obey!”
So much laughter, so much of it from those new friends. Simon hadn’t finished, though.
“We have another cheque for the Mermaids charity for trans children and their families, plus donations for musical instruments to three local schools. I cannot reveal the sums yet, for we are still adding up our takings, and the final allocation will depend on tomorrow’s announcement. For those of you who have pre-booked, there will be a further event this evening in the hall, but for now, our wonderful house… Field? Our wonderful field band will play a few polkas for those who still have more energy than sense. Band? Hit it!”
Sod that, was my thought, and as a family we drifted back to our tents, where the children did kid things in safety, while elders smiled and some of us simply enjoyed the warmth of the Summer.
I lay there with my eyes closed, working through the day’s dynamics, my attention to detail not letting up as I replayed so many little moments, including one where Annie had found herself in a dance that started with Barry and ended up with her being passed from him to Alun, then to Bryn, then Sammy, before finally ending up with her husband Eric. Simon’s comment rang so true. Rootless in England: how had she coped?
How on Earth had she survived?
In the end, tired children met sleeping bags with watchful ‘aunties’, and the rest of us gathered in the church hall again. All I will say on that evening is that it involved alcohol and extreme insanity, as well as love and laughter, and there were two weddings still being celebrated, and none of us cared how utterly non-traditional the whole thing was. I watched Deb’s glowing face as she kissed her husband between one joke and another, and just for a microsecond I wanted Charlie Cooper there to witness it.
Love, you piece of shit? This is love. THIS is someone who knows how to love, knows what it means in truth.
I found my mind wandering, thinking at one and the same time that if it hadn’t been for Charlie Cooper, Deb could have had her life so many years earlier, then understanding it would not have included Frank, and I realised I was getting rather drunk, so I grabbed my husband to drag him away from watching Annie J and Steph W as they did something improbable on the little stage, because I had plans for Blake S that involved Diane S and nobody else.
Sunlight through the tent, and the hint of a hangover. Mam handing in two cups of tea. Breakfast in the hall once more (when did they ever take time off?) the whole of our team present, and then Simon’s announcement.
“Morning, all! Final figures sorted for the donations, if you’re interested. Darren? Do the honours?”
The young man in question grinned and rose to leave the hall, as Simon chuckled.
“Alun? Lynne Can you make yourselves known, please?”
Alun held up an arm.
“We get breakfast in the hotel, Vicar. Why drag us out here?”
“Because your team-mates asked me to. DARREN?”
That lad came back into the hall, this time on wheels, electric ones. Simon’s grin was spreading into a proper smile by then.
“A present from us as well as your family, in all senses of that word. We can offer no miracles, Lynne, but many here have found love, and that is always a miracle. Arwel has offered to deliver it for you”
A rumble from the other side of the room.
“Aye. On my way home, it is, aye? Leave me the details before you head off home”
Lynne was in tears. So was Alun, but he did his best to hide them as a line of colleagues shook his hand, admitting what I had been working at for so many months. We had a canteen culture of a better sort, one that didn’t need disinfecting.
Sometimes it is possible to choose one’s family. I am reasonably certain the night before was when our own family gained another girl, and Rhod a sister, nine months later.
Lives, lived well.