CHAPTER 8
It didn’t last, of course, and I was back in uniform after only four weeks, but I learned an awful lot in that short time. Years later I was talking to an engineer about some car fiddle or other, and he told me that in his college they had a sign hanging in the workshop.

“I hear--- I forget.
I see--- I remember,
I DO--- I understand”

It was of a kind with the muscle memory they emphasised in our whacking and walloping courses, where we were taught, as Alun would say, ‘How to use reasonable force in accordance with yadda yadda’. The more I did something, the closer it got to second nature, and both Harry and Alun had the same little trick of letting me discover something before gently letting me see how much more I had found. It served me well in later years, but it was something that had been spectacularly lacking in my classes at Cwmbran.

Sammy was right, and this was where I was actually learning the job as opposed to practising for exams.

After four weeks of secondment, I was back in uniform and trying to hang onto the skills Alun had shown me in questioning and hang them onto the tricks Dai had taught me in defusing conflict and avoiding getting hit. Section 5…

Sammy had me in for a combination state-of-my-probation interview and how-did-it-go session a fortnight after I pulled on the stab vest again, and he was smiling throughout.

2Harry likes you, girl. Asked when he could have you back”

“Oh. What did you tell him?”

“Oh, that he could sod off and find some other fresh meat of his own. Not letting you go, am I?”

He must have caught my tells, because he held up a hand, quickly.

“No, no, not like that. Your career is your choice, Diane. We always try to fit round pegs to round holes, but you go where you can, not where we say, innit? I just think you’re enjoying yourself now, and I don’t want you diving into the first thing that catches your attention. Now, Dai’s got you crewed with him for the next three months. Area car, so you’ll get about a bit, but main thing will be supporting Traffic”

“I’ve only had the basics of that one, boss”

“Na, not doing it, are you? Just sometimes they need back-up, or just a hand sorting a crowd, so that’s your role, you and Dai’s. And it’ll give you a chance to see what they do in Traffic without having to sit a course. You might decide you fancy it”

I fancied CID, I already knew that, but I took his point and the front passenger seat in a marked BMW. Oh yes—and a slot on almost permanent night shifts, the bastards. My dear sergeant may have explained, but I didn’t really see it as an apology. I was there to learn, and while ‘shit happens’, it mostly happens at night. I will give him the kudos I owe him, though, for he knew every late-night and early morning establishment going in Cardiff and the area around it. In between pasties, or bacon sarnies, and gallons of tea, we covered pub fights, domestics, gobby drunks, stupid drunks, maudlin drunks, happy drunks who wanted to share their cider as well as more than enough sad bastards off their faces on less legal chemicals.

I got used to the smells of puke and piss, and on one shift picked up my first but my no means last black eye, which I don’t really believe was intentional.

Microwave meals and cocoa before trying to sleep through the daytime; I bought new and heavier curtains for the bedroom.

“Three One, Control”

“Control, Three One, go ahead”

“Dai, where you to?”

“Up by Bessemer Road”

“Can you attend an RTC at the Mail office? Junction Penarth and Sloper?”

“Three minutes, Control. How urgent?”

“Ah, one Traffic Officer on plot, but restless natives”

“Two minutes, then. On way. Listening out”

Bloody hell he was quick about it! In no time at all, with full light sand noise, we were pulling up by a Citroen Saxo with a marked Honda bike on its side behind it. Not on its side stand, but actually lying on the road. Shit.

Our mate was outside the Saxo, someone cuffed to the rear bent over the roof as pressure was exerted as per yadda yadda (sod you, Alun) on the rigid handcuffs that had been applied to the rear. Three other youths were shouting and weaving between the Traffic Officer and his bike, and I had a sudden suspicion, correct as it turned out, as to why his Honda was off its wheels. One of the shits was filming everything on a mobile phone, and as we left our car I could hear another of them expressing his firmly-held opinions as to how the law should be applied.

Dai had been terse in the car.

“Fasten everything up, girl, pockets, zips, the lot. Keep your baton away but be ready, and watch me if I go for my spray and get out of the way sharpish. You ready for this? Follow my lead, aye?”

“Aye. Your shout”

We bailed out of our car as he muttered “Get behind them, by the bike. Split their focus, and watch their hands. Ware sharps”

“Let him fucking go, you short-arsed cunt!”

Ah, the gift of tongues was present and fully operational. Dai muttered a quick call for a van, and we were in the middle of it.

“What we got, Adam?”

“Drink or drug driving, butt, I would say, but driver won’t deliver. NYC cap there floored the bike”

I moved round behind them, not before one noticed, though.

“Fucking bitch! Where you think you’re going?”

I saw the pipe wrench just as his arm went back, and it was indeed “I do---I remember” as I stepped quickly inside his fighting arc and struck his right shoulder with both open palms. Slap, wrap, attack, and I had the arm, spinning in place to haul him off balance and down to the ground, just as Dai pulled his spray and the van roared in.

“STAND STILL OR GET SPRAYED!”

For fuck’s sake, mate, it’s not a taser! Before the remaining two could bolt, they were grabbed by a couple of lads from the van, and Dai was straight across to me, wrist-locking my boy’s other arm and hauling it across till I could cuff him. He looked across to me, and in the faint light I could still see him raise an eyebrow. Oh, right. I took a deep breath.

“You are under arrest for assault and use of an offensive weapon. You do not have to say anything…”

I got him to his feet, and he was first into the little cell at the back of the van after a rub-down. We got another van and a couple of cars for the three other shits, the video phone got secured, Dai gave ‘Adam’ a hand hauling his bike upright, and I got to drive the Saxo back to the Nick. No worries.

Not really true, of course, for the shakes hit me as soon as the four idiots were gone. Dai noticed, of course, as did the Traffic lad, and both came over to me as I leant on the seized car.

“You right there, Diane?”

“Sort of, mate. All a bit quick, that. Didn’t see what he had till he was swinging. Nearly too late”

“Wasn’t too late, though, was it? Told you to watch their hands”

“Yeah, you did. Give me a minute, OK?”

“No problem. Diane, this is Adam Price, with Traffic. Adam? My probationer, Diane Owens”

The helmet was off now, and I could see a nice-looking lad with very dark hair, or so it looked under the street lights. A short man, only about five foot eight or so, but even in the heavy jacket I could see he looked quite fit, and when he smiled there was a most definite twinkle.

Oh, Constable Owens: I thought you were off men for the duration? My mind did a quick split-screen, and I told myself it was stress and the simple fact that he was about as unthreatening as a mug of cocoa, his compactness contrasting so starkly with Evans, Evans and Pritchard. Stop it, one half of me told the other, stop it now.

He pulled his lid back on after a quick “See you in Custody, and I set off for the nick, followed by Dai, in a shitty little car that had a screwdriver where the key should have been, hoping nobody else I knew would see me. Custody was a hoot, one of them (mine, naturally) trying to kick Adam as they went before the desk, but in the end the driver agreed to do the necessary on two machines. No booze in him, but he was more than just positive for cannabis and cocaine. Bish, bash, and thirty-four wraps of cannabis in the car together with ten of coke. More than a nice job.

Eight of us gathered in the canteen for the necessary and traditional cuppa and greasy sandwich, and I got a proper look at Adam, which only served to confirm my libido’s suspicions.

Heavy jacket off, he was very, very fit-looking, his wicking top leaving no doubt at all about that. Dark hair, remarkably pale skin with a pristine complexion and only a few years older than me. Dai kicked my foot gently under the table.

“Diane here’s sparkly new, Adam. Done some stuff with CID already, they liked her, so next time you might not see her dressed like this”

Dressed. Shit. I could feel the blush coming before it arrived, and managed to get away to the counter for some serviettes before they noticed. Or at least I hoped I had.