CHAPTER 53
I got the feedback from Arwel the day after, and it sounded better than I had expected. It seemed that Miriam, the cousin I had first met, the one Annie had held out such hope for, had been even more devious with her family than I could ever have imagined, and I did wonder whether she fancied a job with my old team. It was the other girl I was concerned about though, and I was jerking to each ring of the telephone, expecting it to be from Diane.

“Inspector Powell?”

“Yes, Adele?”

“Got a visitor for you”

“Send him in”

She sniggered as she put the phone down, and my office door opened on Diane. I gave her the eyebrow.

“Did you feel your intelligence ebbing as it set? ADELE! ANY CHANCE OF SOME TEA?”

“You have an intercom, Inspector Powell!”

“Er, sorry”

Di snorted. “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?”

I settled back into my chair, trying to read her tells. “What did you think of her?”

My friend took a few seconds to frame her thoughts, then shook her head. “That’s the word, isn’t it? ‘Her’? I mean, I watched them… Blake and me got a table in the corner of the main room, and they 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”

“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 poured as Diane visibly struggled to find exactly the right phrase.

“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”

I handed her a cup, and she took a sip, winced at the heat and then fixed my gaze again. “She’s straight as well, innit? That bloke you mentioned, 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”

“He’s a good man, Di”

“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…”

Suddenly my girl was crying, great racking sobs that brought Adele to the door to see what the fuss was before closing it gently and then loudly banging the outer door as she found some excuse to leave the office. Di grabbed for some tissues from her handbag, and slowly, slowly, wrestled her self-control back into existence.

“Talk to me, Di? Blake?”

“Oh, Lainey, yes, and no, and all sorts of shit, yeah, and it’s not him, but…”

This time, the tea was cooler, and she managed a proper mouthful. Her voice was soft, but I could tell how her distress still howled for attention.

“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…”

She started waving her hand about, looking for the words, so I waited, and they finally came.

“It’s breaking the association, Lainey. It’s washing that bastard out of my dreams in a sort of shower of Blake and…”

This time, it was laughter. “No, not like that! Bollocks, you know what I meant!!”

I had my own words, just for once. “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?”

I just nodded. Let her speak, girl.

“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”

Once more, she busied herself with her tea, and then delivered the summary.

“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”

Another sip. “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”

That little barb was soothed when she produced her phone, and to my delight she had captured exactly that ‘Ice Cold in Alex’ moment that she had described, Annie looking up from a crowd of strangers, her cousin beside her as her smile transformed her face.

Di grinned. “You trained us well, Inspector Baggins! Sneaksy!”

That visit left me on a high, and I was fairly fizzing with happiness as the weekend came round. Both of us had both days off, so after our Saturday morning supermarket run we took a drive out to Three Cliffs (nobody seems to have agreed a real name for it, so I just call it Traeth Pennard) and then settled down to our first proper two-of-us debauch in what seemed like ages, and we were both rather fuzzy the next morning when the doorbell rang. Who the hell?

There was a small, spare man at the door, a cheap anorak over jumper and corduroy trousers, all in muted colours, earth tones. He looked nervous.

“Pardon me for disturbing you on a Sabbath morning—“

I started to shut the door before he could pull out a sodding pamphlet or tract, and he raised his voice, just a little.

“I am looking for Siân Roberts”

My wife called over my shoulder “Powell, aye?” and our visitor looked very uncomfortable.

“Um, yes, your mother thought you might say that”