Hathaway Episode 2: Smoke & Mirrors
Oxford was once again in all its beautiful splendour as the streets began filling up with people. Broad Street and the High Street was again increasing in pedestrian and traffic flow. Stephen Hazel drove down the street en route to the station. He was running late. His alarm clock failed to go off on time and this distressed the young sergeant immensely. The young man wanted to impress, and this was a complete setback. Hazel swore out loud and bashed the palms of his hands on the steering wheel as he hit a long tailback. He looked at his phone contemplating whether to call in…
James Hathaway walked from one of the many hotel dining room tables to a huge window holding a cup of coffee in his hand. He looked out onto the gardens. A few weeks passed since he was reinstated and took Caroline to Cambridge. They both decided to stay longer as she had a few things to do. Bright was understanding and granted him more leave, but if he decided to come back earlier he could. He carefully took a sip from his cup and watched the people milling about outside enjoying the morning sunshine.
Caroline walked over to him and he placed his arm around her holding her close. They knew they had a place to visit today, one which was long overdue. Caroline looked up at Hathaway and noticed the look on his face, one which was distant. She squeezed him, and he looked at her.
"Everything okay?" she asked. Hathaway nodded.
"I should be asking you this," he said. Caroline gazed into his blue eyes and nodded.
"I have to do this. We have to do this."
"I know." He kissed Caroline slowly and they rubbed noses playfully. He gazed into her eyes and he smiled lovingly at her. They were distracted by a noise coming from outside and they saw a hapless couple, the husband accidentally dropping a bag and his wife screaming blue murder at him. Their taxi was parked not far away, the driver wisely keeping his distance.
"I hope we do not end up like them," Caroline remarked. She took note of the no response from Hathaway and looked up at him. She jokingly thumped him on the arm as he tried to keep a straight face. She grinned and held him tighter.
Stephen Hazel knew he was in the deepest brown stuff as he ran inside the station. The female desk sergeant watched as he sped by without even a 'good morning' and she felt a bit disappointed.
"Morning, Marian!" Hazel called out as he disappeared around a corner. The desk sergeant blushed and grinned. Her morning was complete.
Bright was in the middle of a briefing when Hazel burst through the door. There was immediate silence and all eyes and heads turned in his direction. Hazel turned a bright shade of red and he cleared his throat as he walked inside. He stood next to a pretty brunette who bit her lip cheekily with her head slightly turned downwards.
"You are lucky she is in a good mood," she whispered to him as Bright resumed proceedings.
"I am so late!" Hazel whispered back, still slightly out of breath. "This isn't what I wanted."
"Was she worth it?"
Hazel blushed. His colleague stifled laughter.
"Anything you would like to share, you two?" The two detectives looked up as Bright asked them the question. "Nice of you to show your face, Stephen. Come see me in my office when this is over, please?"
"Shit!" Hazel swore under his breath as once again Bright continued. His female colleague turned her head trying to suppress her laughter. Hazel once again blushed and sheepishly looked up listening to the end of Bright's waffle. He followed her out as the briefing ended and glanced round his shoulder as his colleague started chatting with a couple of other detectives.
The cemetery was quiet, serene, peaceful and tranquil. Hathaway and Caroline got out of the car on a path outside some internal gates and stared at the miles and miles of gravestones around them. Caroline walked over and stopped a couple of steps in front of Hathaway. He was carrying a bunch of flowers. He watched Caroline as she stared at a section of the cemetery and left her be for a little while. She suddenly outstretched her hand. Hathaway walked over and held it, looking in the same direction. He felt Caroline take a deep breath as they both walked inside.
They passed the many rows of graves, some dilapidated, some uncared for and forgotten and others beautifully attended to. Two women passed them carrying buckets and they nodded once in greeting before going on their way. Hathaway and Caroline finally stopped nearby, and she tensed up suddenly. Hathaway took one look at her and then straight ahead. A figure was kneeling by a headstone, placing flowers at the base. Caroline squeezed Hathaway's hand and ventured forward. She stopped a few feet behind the figure.
"Dad?"
The figure turned. He had dark hair and dark features, which were haggard and stressed.
"Hello, Caroline." He caught sight of Hathaway and his face slightly lit up in recognition. Caroline looked at her father and wondered what he was doing back after so long.
Hazel walked into Bright's office and heard the door close behind him. He gulped but tried not to look apprehensive as Bright walked past him towards her desk. She stood in front of it, leaning her hands on the edge.
"What time do you call this, Stephen?" she asked, disappointment in her voice. "You know I brief everyone once a week. I expected you to be on time like always."
"I am so sorry, ma'am," Hazel replied apologetically. "My alarm failed to go off and…"
"That doesn't matter now, Stephen." Bright looked at him still with a hint of pride. Ever since the Hemsworth-Frost bust, she viewed him quite favourably. He was holding the fort successfully and this pleased Bright even more so. Hazel watched as Bright walked over to the other side of her desk.
"Have you heard anything more from Hathaway, ma'am?" he asked.
"Not a thing," Bright replied. "How are you finding the department, Stephen?"
"Good thank you, ma'am."
"Excellent." She paused and took a folder from the in tray on her desk. "Stephen, your hard work and enthusiasm has not gone unnoticed." She placed it in front of him. "I have spoken to Hathaway briefly and he is in agreement." She watched as Hazel picked up the folder and opened it. "I hope you will take this opportunity."
Hazel's eyes widened. "Thank you, ma'am."
"The assessment is in six or so months. You can ask James for assistance when he gets back. He has agreed to let you take the helm on a few cases when they come in and will observe and advise." Bright looked at the joy on Hazel's face and smiled. "Congratulations, Stephen. Use this time wisely. You will do well, I am sure." She held out her hand. Hazel looked up and shook it, a grin coming over his face.
Hathaway watched from a short distance giving Caroline and her father a bit of privacy. He observed the mannerisms and body language from both, but Caroline especially and he realised more than one or two things about her. He was leaning against a tree.
Caroline knelt next to her father and placed the bunch of flowers beside his. She greeted her mother and asked how she was, apologising for taking so long in visiting. Her father meanwhile watched her, his eyes overcome with a little bit of emotion.
"You look good, Carol," he said to her. Caroline didn't make eye contact with him as she cleared some earth with a cloth she brought with her.
"What brings you here?" she asked.
"I was in the area. I thought to visit..."
"Out of respect for Mum, I won't argue." She cleared the debris from the headstone, polishing the granite with the cloth. She turned her head and beckoned Hathaway to come over. "Dad, you remember James, don't you?"
Caroline's father looked up to see the tall blond detective nearby. "I do, yes. Nice to see you again, James."
"You too, sir."
"We're getting married, Dad." Caroline looked at her father. She stood up and Hathaway placed a very protective hand on her shoulder. Caroline's father looked at them both and stood up.
"Congratulations," he told them. "I supposed I am not surprised. You two were pretty tight the last time I saw you both." He put his hand out to Hathaway and he shook it out of courtesy before looking at the headstone. Caroline stared at her father, her expression hard but upset. Her father looked at both his daughter and future son-in-law and said nothing except walk past them. Caroline fought back tears and angrily wiped them away with her hand. Hathaway leaned forwards and whispered in her ear kissing her on the cheek. She looked at him and shook her head slowly. Hathaway turned her round and held her tightly as she wept. He looked once more at the grave of her mother and thought of his own father. He looked to the sky with hatred in his eyes.
Stephen Hazel stared once more at his invitation for assessment and still couldn't believe it. He was absolutely made up and chuffed! This was what he always wanted; and to get the blessing from Hathaway and Bright just made it more than the icing on the cake! He turned the pages of the assessment notes and started reading quietly. He didn't realise that someone was standing in the doorway, looking at him with a smile on her features.
"I just heard," she said. Hazel raised his head and his face lit up.
"Hey, Gemma," he said. She walked inside and parked herself on the edge of Hazel's desk. "I honestly cannot believe it. This is what I joined the force for!"
"Well, you are a good sergeant… Sarge." Hazel looked at the brunette in front of him. There was no doubt that she was a looker. She just joined the ranks as a detective constable from uniform 6 months previously but was only assigned to his and Hathaway's department a month ago. They hadn't seen each other much as she was under a different Inspector in a different section. She was of average height, her shoulder length dark hair always pinned up. She had brown eyes and milky white skin and was always dressed in a trouser suit. She and Hazel became friends almost immediately and this was apparent earlier that morning when they shared a not so secret conversation. Gemma smiled. "When's your assessment?" she asked, trying to peek at the documents.
"Six months." Hazel grinned and closed the folder. "For my eyes only!" he told her jokingly. They shared a playful and flirty look before a knock on the door interrupted them.
"On your bikes, you two," the DI told them. "You're on the case. Suspected poisoning at the university." Hazel placed the folder inside one of his desk drawers and stood up. He grabbed his phone and he and Gemma ran out.
Caroline walked into her and Hathaway's hotel room and sat down at the foot of the bed. Her body language was heavy, and she bowed her head, her hands between her thighs, the strands of her hair falling forwards. Hathaway closed the door and placed the keys on a table nearby. He dropped Caroline's bag by a chest of drawers and sat down next to her. He placed his left arm around her shoulders and rubbed her arm, planting a kiss on her hair. Caroline sat up and he laced the strands of her hair at the back of her ear.
"Bastard comes back after more than I care to mention," she spat. "He didn't even attend the funeral…" She stopped and took a deep breath. "I hate him, Blue Eyes. He is the sole reason why I am such an insecure piece of work."
"Hey!" Hathaway put a stop to her put down almost immediately. "Don't talk like that, Caroline. He may not be Father of the Year, but he has a wonderful daughter." Caroline looked at him knowing where he came from. She saw the look in his eyes, one that told her he related to her full well. She nodded. Hathaway's mobile phone rang, and he reached into his pocket to answer. "DI Hathaway… Hello, Stephen…" He stopped, a look of concern came over him, and he stood up to pace slowly around the room. "Poisoning? What kind?" He listened, and his eyes hit the ceiling. "Okay, who is with you? Gemma? Gemma who? Okay, you take the lead. I will be back tomorrow." He listened again to Hazel and nodded. "All right. Just wait for Aurora to confirm things. I should be there sometime late morning." He hung up and tapped the side of the handset to his lips. Caroline looked at him.
"What happened?" she asked.
"University poisoning. Looks like a campus wide one. Two students dead and five more in hospital. I have to get back."
"Yes, of course." Caroline understood, and this Hathaway appreciated. He sat back down next to her and brought her close.
"Will you be okay here?" he asked.
"Definitely," Caroline replied. "I came here to see Mum. Anyone else can do one." She suddenly laughed softly. "Remember we used to criticise the college canteen?"
Hathaway tried not to laugh. "I remember that thing we had one afternoon. It was terrible!"
"Just try not to think about it when you get back." Caroline looked again at Hathaway. "Be careful. Don't eat anything."
"I won't." He gazed into Caroline's eyes and stroked her cheek. Caroline smiled and accepted his kiss.
Aurora picked up her clipboard and signed off the paperwork. She handed it to her assistant who wheeled the covered body away for further examination. Hathaway, Hazel and Gemma walked in. The brown-haired pathologist looked up with a smile.
"James Hathaway!" she greeted pleasantly. "Welcome back!"
"Thank you." He had arrived back in Oxford ten minutes previously and hadn't had time to change. He was clad in a smart pair of jeans, black shoes and white shirt which was open at the collar. His gold chain was around his neck.
"I hear congratulations is in order."
"Thank you again." Aurora smiled, and Hathaway followed suit. Hazel and Gemma glanced at each other in amusement.
"I take it you know what happened." Aurora walked to a ledge nearby to pick up some paperwork.
"Stephen informed me yesterday, yes. Suspected poisoning?"
"I'm afraid so; and not isolated either." She handed the paper grimly and watched as Hathaway read it to himself quietly before passing it over to his two junior officers. "You saw the body that was wheeled away? That was the third victim; passed away overnight."
"Do you have any idea what it could be?" Hazel asked.
"From the looks of things… arsenic." Hathaway rolled his eyes. It seems that will always come back to haunt him. "I could be wrong though." Aurora watched as Hathaway looked straight at her. "The tests on each victim will come back as soon as possible. I have put an urgent stamp on it." The three detectives looked round as yet another body was wheeled in. Aurora sighed heavily. Another of her assistants looked at her regrettably. "Good luck," she told them. "I'll report back as soon as I get the results from toxicology." The three detectives left as Aurora got down to business. They left pathology with not much between them apart from that piece of paper. They walked out on to the station forecourt and breathed in some much-needed air.
"What did you find at the university?" Hathaway asked.
"Campus has been sealed off. All the students and tutors have been given leave. Understandably, the Dean is very annoyed, but he also wants this solved sooner rather than later."
"Any evidence of what it could be or any traces?"
"Not much to say a definite," Gemma replied. "It could be something the kids were drinking from. There was a party a couple of nights ago." Hathaway looked at her.
"Gemma isn't it?" he asked her. "What is your last name?"
"Richardson, guv," she replied. Hathaway nodded.
"Welcome aboard, DC Richardson. Stephen here will take charge of the case. I will still be here lending a hand. Is that okay?"
"Absolutely! Thank you, guv." She glanced at Hazel, who blushed. Hathaway looked at them and said nothing. His look though gave it all away and the more Hazel blushed.
"All right. Give me everything you have. From start to finish." They walked in the direction of the main entrance, Hazel giving the lowdown with Gemma taking it all in.
The campus in question was teaming with police when the three detectives walked in that afternoon. Straight away, they got to work and headed for the entrance to the halls of residence where the bodies were discovered. Members of SOCO were in each room taking evidence, mostly from empty used glasses but also other effects. They had to be careful as these would be eventually handed back to each family. Hathaway viewed this with regret. It was a complete and utter waste of life and he thought about the families and their impending grief. Hazel and Gemma looked around the first room, their gloved hands going through the contents that the SOCO team hadn't got around to touching yet. Gemma looked through the bedding and Hazel the items on the desk and window sill. Gemma picked up a book on the bed side table and fanned the pages. That came back empty. She then began looking through the contents of the drawers. All the time, Hathaway watched observing. He knew he would be losing Hazel eventually but hoped it wouldn't be too soon. He was only beginning to get used to him after losing Lizzie. A wave of the hand brought Hathaway back in and he walked over.
Hazel handed him a card and he looked at it. Nothing sinister, just a university club card, but anything at his point may prove useful. He wondered which campus this was. Irony would tell him Science, namely chemistry, but he thought less of that as always things may not be as they seem. He told Stephen to bag it just in case and walked over to where Gemma was.
She was looking underneath the bed on all fours, her torch shining through the partial darkness. All she could see was dust and a few bits of rubbish but nothing that could prove crucial to the case. She stood back up only for the tall figure of Hathaway to make her take a step back in fright.
"Hello," he said with a grin. Gemma held her chest in relief. Hazel turned his head briefly and smiled in amusement knowing she had a lot to get used to. "Find anything?" Hathaway asked.
"Not really," she replied. "It looks far too tidy to belong to a student." She walked to the window and took a look at the ornaments on the ledge.
"Uniform for how long?"
"Five years or so. I came here straight out of Hendon."
"A Londoner?"
"Uh-huh." Gemma moved over to a small bookshelf and crouched down to look at the many spines of the many books that adorned the open interior. Hathaway watched as she studied each spine carefully and it brought him back to a similar case where he and Lewis were looking at a bookcase… ironically involving arsenic. Hathaway shivered at the thought of him suffering food poisoning and thought immediately of what Caroline said to him.
"What do you think?" he asked her.
"Not much, guv," she replied. "Mostly books about literature and various celebrity autobiographies." She stood up. Hazel joined her and shook his head at Hathaway telling him it drew a blank. Hathaway nodded and suggested the next room a couple of doors down where the second victim lived. As they walked out, two SOCO team members walked past them inside. The three detectives walked the short distance down the corridor passing many a white clad forensic. Gemma caught sight of one holding a bag with a bottle in it and stopped him. Hazel and Hathaway turned and watched as she spoke to him, the forensic nodding and walking away. They waited for her as she walked back towards them.
"Everything all right?" Hazel asked.
"Yes. I just asked SOCO where that bottle came from and he said the third victim's room. I asked him to take it straight to Aurora and to see if the dusting he took revealed any lip marks or saliva traces." Hazel looked at Hathaway impressed. They walked into the second victim's room to find it crammed with three SOCO forensics. This room was slightly bigger than the first one. The two young detectives got straight to work with Hathaway taking a look round himself. He put on the latex gloves he had in his pocket and began to look through some of the drawers.
"Guv?" Hathaway turned his head and saw Gemma beckoning him over. He took one final look at the contents of the drawer he was sifting through and walked over.
"What is it?" he asked.
"This might be interesting." She picked up a book and opened it where the bookmark was. Hazel looked up as Hathaway stood next to her to read quietly to himself the page and in particular what was underlined in pencil. It was a passage from a novel, which by the looks of things, wasn't overly sinister. But, experience told him otherwise and he looked at the front cover.
"Do you know who lives or lived here?" he asked looking directly at Hazel. The youngster looked up straight away and glanced at a passport in his hand as Gemma passed by.
"Oh." He flicked through the back to the ID page. "Damian Kirklees," he read. "20 years of age."
"Chemistry, guv," Gemma called out. She was waving what looked like a notepad from the other end of the room. Both Hathaway and Hazel walked towards her, the younger taking the pad from her.
"Advanced it looks like," he said as he sifted carefully through the pages. There were lots of diagrams, periodic tables and other matter jotted down in messy scribble. Only a student would understand this. "Pharmacology possibly?"
"I wouldn't rule it out," Hathaway replied. He looked at Hazel as if he was prompting him. He looked up and saw both his superior and junior officer looking straight at him waiting for his next move.
"The Dean?" he asked as if he was waiting for approval.
"I don't know. You tell us," Hathaway replied. Hazel froze. He was stuck. He knew what to say, what his ideas were, but this put him completely on the spot. Gemma noticed his slight distressed look and turned to Hathaway.
"The sarge is right, guv. Perhaps we should go to the Dean or maybe one of his tutors. He or she may be able to give us an idea of who this Damian is or perhaps the students affected themselves."
Hathaway nodded. "Hazel, you go. Gemma and I will stay here and see if we can find out more."
"Yes, sir." Hazel felt like a failure as he took off his gloves and left. Both Gemma and Hathaway looked at each other as he departed.
"He knew what to say, guv," she told him, but Hathaway said nothing as he stepped over some clothing on the floor to walk to the other side of the room. Gemma sighed heavily. She hated showing her friend up, but thought she was saving him. She bowed her head and got on with the search.
Caroline got out of a car and raised her head skywards. The tall block of flats greeted her in all its 1960s glory. She turned and smiled at the taxi driver, giving him her fare before walking off the pavement and across the road towards the entrance. She could hear kids playing in the distance and the bass of music pumping away above her. This was a housing estate in what was seen as a rough part of Cambridge. She knew her father lived here and had done so since he walked out on her and her mother all those years ago. God knows why she was here or why she decided to visit him, but she had an urge to do it, like there was closure to have. Caroline took a deep breath and pressed the flat number on the intercom. Almost straight away the buzzer sounded letting her in and she pulled open the door, holding it open for an elderly lady who smiled her gratitude to her as she walked past. Caroline walked inside the rather messy entrance and decided against the lift, which looked like it hadn't gone under maintenance in a long while. She took another deep breath and began the long climb up the steps. Her father lived on the 10th floor.
Stephen Hazel was ushered into a rather bright office. He was offered a cup of tea or coffee by the secretary, which he declined politely. He was told it wouldn't be long and to take a seat. The young detective took the opportunity to have a look around at his surroundings. This wasn't your average Dean's office - far from it. The brightness from outside easily bounced off the bright wooden walls and the white tiles on the floor even more so. There was a fairly modest sized desk not far in front of him which had a leather chair behind. Hazel scanned the contents of the desk which had a lamp, a desktop computer screen and keyboard and several in-trays. There were also a few framed photographs and a telephone. Hazel's eyes rose upwards and he noticed an unused flagpole by the window and a few framed photographs on the walls, he hazarded a guess were perhaps old alumni or sports teams. As his eyes moved across the room, he noticed the bog standard bookshelves, chest of drawers and of course the sofa which he was sitting on. To his left hand side underneath the windows was a small table of which a tray of glass tumblers and bottles of spirits was settled on. Outside, people walked past going about their business along with the odd student on their cycle. Hazel glanced down at the immaculately clean floor tiles and noticed his own reflection, the rather troubled look on his features taking him aback slightly. His thoughts turned to his performance in front of Hathaway and Gemma and his whole being sank. He must have looked and sounded like such a dunce! The nerves now got the better of Hazel and he wondered how he was going to look like in front of the Dean. That question was about to be answered when the door opened suddenly and the person in question walked in. Hazel watched his movements carefully. Just like this office, this wasn't your average Dean of Faculty. In fact, this looked like more your average boss of your average office than anything else. He wasn't in robes. He wasn't even in a suit. He had a tracksuit on like he had been on a run or in the gym. The trainers he had on his feet squeaked as he stepped across the tiles towards the drinks tray. He poured himself a glass of what looked like whiskey before walking to his desk where he sat down with a relieved sigh.
"I apologise for my lateness, detective sergeant," he greeted. "But, I was roped into adjudicating a rather messy rowing competition. With Cambridge winning everything but the kitchen sink this year, things have become rather urgent." He paused. "Did you watch the Boat Race?"
"Yes, sir," Hazel replied. "My family are very much into it."
"Not our year obviously." The Dean chuckled and Hazel forced himself to smile. He stood up to hand over his warrant card. The Dean took a long, hard look. "Stephen Hazel," he read. "Any relation to Martha Hazel?"
"Yes, sir... She is my mother."
"I thought so, although I knew her as Martha Jenkins. She was a very fine student and equally passionate about certain student rights." He handed the warrant card back over. "She must be so proud of you."
"I think so, sir. I don't think she expected me to follow her into academia." Hazel was finding this all rather bizarre as he packed his warrant card away in his jacket pocket. "Sir, I am here because of the rather grizzly discoveries on your campus recently..."
"Yes, the poisonings, or suspected poisonings." He sighed heavily with regret as he took another sip. "I have to be brutally honest with you, detective sergeant, this isn't what I hoped would happen nor the message I would like to broadcast of the college. As you can imagine, we all have our reputations to uphold. But, with that also comes grief. The students who were involved were some of my brightest bunch with good futures. It is such a tragic waste of life."
"It was one of those students I have come to see you about, sir."
"Oh yes?" Hazel finally got his attention. He watched as the Dean sat up rather slowly in his seat. "Which one?"
"Damian Kirklees. We found his passport in his room. I was wondering if you could tell me more about him?"
"Is he dead?"
"We don't know that yet, sir." Hazel's eyes followed the Dean as he stood up to pace slowly nearby.
"Damian Kirklees was one of the pharmacology students. He seemed bright enough; just passed his first year. I was a bit concerned he wasn't applying himself as much as I'd like, but he has enthusiasm." He stopped suddenly and turned to face Hazel. "You said he was one of the students found?"
"I didn't say that, sir. We're trying to paint a picture of the situation."
"Of course, yes." The tension disappeared from the Dean and he became his rather unusual self again. "The best person to speak about Damian is his tutor, Karen Macclesfield." Hazel took out his small pad and jotted down the name. "She can tell you more about what he was like."
"Was Damian the only student she taught?"
"Are there more dead?" Again, Hazel wasn't going to get caught out. He didn't reply and the Dean chuckled. "Just like Martha. She wasn't one to stumble on her words neither." Hazel looked up and saw the look on the Dean's face. He was becoming rather concerned about how he was speaking about his mother.
"Thank you, sir. I will be on my way."
"Karen isn't on campus, as you know." The Dean walked back to his desk and opened on of the drawers. "She also teaches at Brookes. Here is her card. I suggest you call her first just in case."
"Thank you." Hazel took the card and walked to leave.
"Please pass on my regards to Martha." Hazel stopped dead in his tracks and turned.
"Thank you, sir. I will do." He pushed the door handle down and walked through the doorway and down the corridor, thanking the secretary as he did so. As he stepped back out onto the bright Oxford streets, he became rather affected by the conversation he just had. He reached into his pocket and took out his phone. "Hello, Mum? No, everything is fine. I need to talk to you about something. Yes, of course. I'll pop by the house tonight." As the call ended, he took up the business card he was given and dialled the number. He left a voicemail as he walked down the street.
Caroline finally reached her destination and took a couple of deep breaths to regulate her heartbeat. Ten flights of stairs she just climbed. She couldn't believe she was doing this as she rang the doorbell and waited. She heard the sound of the chain and the bolt unlocking before the sight of her father greeted her through the small crack of the doorway.
"You should always ask who it is, Dad," she told him. "Bad enough you let me in downstairs..."
"You sound like a copper," he told her with a hint of bitterness in his voice. Caroline tried not to let his response bother her as he stepped aside so she could walk in. What met her was a complete disappointment. The flat wasn't in the best of health, but at least it was warm. She ventured into the living area, which was as basic as you could get. There was one sofa by the dated floral wallpapered wall with a 20" television set on its stand not far in front. There was a Freeview box and DVD player on the floor along with many a DVD. A small cabinet was standing not far behind it, with pictures of her mother and her dotted around. To her right, the rather huge curtain less windows gave a good view of Cambridge with a small balcony outside. Caroline noticed the windows and balcony door were double glazed. "Sit down, Carol!" Her father was now polite. Caroline said nothing as she sat down on the edge of the sofa. She felt very uncomfortable and began to regret her actions. "You want something to drink?"
"No thanks," Caroline replied. Her father walked past her and picked up a framed photograph off the cabinet.
"Look at you," he said with a hint of pride. "Your first day at primary school. I was so proud of you..."
"Why did you come back?" she interrupted. "Why did you visit her after so long?" Her father continued to stare at the picture but didn't reply. Caroline was beginning to lose patience with him and she stood to leave.
"Where are you going?" he asked her. "You've only just got here."
"Dad, I am not going to get a straight answer from you. So, it is better if I just go." She walked to the doorway and noticed a black and white picture on the shelf. She stopped and looked at it, the memories of her childhood coming back. "I remember always looking at this when I was young," she said. "It fascinated me." She felt her father's presence next to her looking at the picture himself. A smile came over his face. "I remember granddad telling me all these stories about you back in the day." Her father picked up the frame and they both looked at it together. "You were good looking back then. No wonder Mum fell for you."
"I was a bit of a looker then, wasn't I?" Caroline laughed a little. Her father smiled.
"I see you kept your wedding photo."
"Why wouldn't I?" Caroline walked behind the television set and looked at the framed pictures one by one. "I didn't mean to hurt you both."
"Too late for that. Mum was devastated and angry. She lost the plot, Dad! She kept going on about how you weren't the person she thought you were." Caroline stopped by a particular picture and picked it up. "If it is any consolation, she died somewhat comforted, like she knew someone was waiting to collect her. She was smiling." She placed the picture back on the shelf. Her father noticed her engagement ring.
"You and James look good together," he remarked. "You always did. Is he looking after you?"
"Of course!"
"What does he do now? Wasn't he studying theology?"
"He did, yes, and graduated. He's a Detective Inspector now for Thames Valley in Oxford." Caroline watched as the look on her father's face turned bitter but she knew she didn't need his blessing or approval. She and Hathaway got her mother's a long time ago and that was the main thing.
"Do you still have the house?"
"Yes. James has moved in with me." Her father nodded once seeming satisfied with the response. He walked out and came back a couple of minutes later with a can of beer in his hand. Caroline's face fell in disappointment but she also wasn't surprised. She watched as her father drank a third of the contents down and knew this was her cue to leave. She walked past him to the front door.
"You had to get involved with a copper, Carol!" she heard him call out. "Out of all the bloody professions in the world, it had to be a bloody police officer!" Caroline stopped and counted to ten before turning.
"It isn't my fault you hate them, Dad!" she called back. "Don't worry, you won't get an invite. I will walk down the aisle on my own."
"You're not bloody Meghan Markle!"
Caroline turned. "I may not be marrying into royalty, Dad, but I love James and he loves me; and like Meghan Markle I don't need my arsehole of a father embarrassing me neither!" She opened the door and walked out slamming it. She approached the rather dirty windows at the opposite side of the corridor and wiped the tears angrily with the back of her hand before storming towards the stairs. The door to the flat opened and her father appeared in the doorway.
"Did you ever ask your mother why I left, Carol!" he yelled after her. "Did she tell you everything?"
"I have no need to know, Dad!" Caroline turned to look at him. "She is dead. For God's sake, for once in your pathetic life, let her rest in peace!" She started the descent down the stairs towards the ground floor. Caroline's father ran the short distance to the banister and looked downwards as the figure of his daughter grew smaller.
"Ask yourself who you really are, Caroline! Your mother lied to you!" The sound of this voice echoed as the figure of his daughter became a dot. He heard the entrance door slam and hit the palm of his hand angrily on the black painted bar. He dragged his feet back to his flat closing the door.