Hi everyone! I hope you enjoy this, I think it's a bit unbelievable though ;-) It's set after Series 2, and the first bit it set on 17th December 1982, then it goes to 24th (Christmas Eve!) There is no Keats or anything :)
This story is sort of inspired by the S3EP1 quote "You made things better then you left us", except Alex isn't the one who makes things better this time...
PLEASE NOTE: 1) I don't own Ashes to Ashes or any of the characters. 2) I do, however, own Joanne and her family :D 3) I'm slow at updating ;)
Sorry it's so short :)
Reviews make me smile :) xxx
In Loving Memory
Chapter One
One dark, cold, winter night, in a small flat just west of Londonderry, a young girl lies limp and lifeless on her small, hard bed. Her eyes sting red with crying, the sheets beneath her wet with tears and blood. The image of him above her, assaulting her small body, was still fresh in her mind. All she could hear was her mother's drunken cackle and all she could feel was Tony's breath hot on her neck. It was then that she made her decision; she had to get out of there.
Slowly, she gets off the bed. Careful not to make too much noise, she limps over to her school bag and empties the contents on the floor. She then goes over to the small cardboard box that is her wardrobe and picks out the warmest clothes that fit her. All she has is a pair of jeans with a huge hole in one knee, an old ripped David Bowie t-shirt her Gran bought her and an old paint-stained pair of her Aunty Eileen's joggers. Aunty Eileen! She thinks, I need to tell her I'm ok. Quickly she rips a page out of one of her school books and begins to write.
Aunty Eileen,
I'm going to stay with a friend in London for a bit, so don't worry when I'm not over for dinner on a Sunday. I don't know how long I'll be there, but I'll be fine.
All my love,
Joanne
X
She folds over the piece of paper and slips it into her bag with her clothes and purse. She doesn't have much money, but it should be enough for a cheap last minute flight and some food and water. Carefully she creeps through the front room and grabs her bright purple heels, casting one last glance at her mother and Tony before stepping out into the night.
"You're nicked! Chris, Ray, cuff this poofter."
"Yes gov," Ray punches him in the stomach while Chris cuffs him, looking at him with a disgusted expression. They drag him off to the police car. Gene looks around for Alex. She's standing at the end of the room, staring off into space.
"Bolls?" She jumps and looks round.
"What?" She asks, walking towards him.
"We're off," he says, looking her up and down. They had been distant since she had woken up. Too distant. They no longer stayed up all night in Luigi's, chatting about everything and nothing, drowning their sorrows together. He never stayed at her flat when he was too pissed to drive home anymore. The only times they spoke were at work, and even then it was just short, awkward conversations that lasted barely more than a minute. Sometimes he felt like he'd imagined being so close to her. All those nights they'd worked late and fallen asleep together, all the secrets they'd shared, all the times he'd been so close to admitting he liked her more than just a friend were just old dreams now. He no longer felt he knew her better than anyone else she knew; she had become a stranger.
She walks past him and out into the Quattro and he follows, ready to help her if she slipped in the snow.
"Interview started at 11:35am," Alex says into the tape recorder. Gene rolls his eyes.
"You are David Norman, correct?" Gene says.
"Aye," he says, folding his arms and sitting back in his seat.
"Where were you at 11:30pm on 15th December?" Alex asks him.
"In bed, where do you think?"
"Can anyone confirm that?"
"No."
"Do you know a woman called Sandra Baker?"
"No."
"Really? Because she says she knows you."
David says nothing but looks uncomfortable.
"You know what I think?" Gene says.
"No, and I don't care either."
"I think you saw her in the pub, tried it on with her, she turned you down so you followed her home and raped her."
"No comment."
Alex scowls. What a scumbag, she thinks, poor Sandra just got her life back on track, and then this bastard comes and does something like this.
"You know, we know you did it," Gene says, leaning back in his chair.
"Prove it."
"We already have," he pulls out an evidence bag. "Sandra's underwear. Your fingerprints all over them," he pulls out a sheet of paper. "DNA test results that match yours." He opens David's file. "And, you've got form. Now tell us you're innocent."
"I think you're nicked," Alex smirks, standing up and exiting the room. She walks into the ladies toilets' smiling to herself but her smile soon disappears as she gasps in pain, clutching her stomach. She had been getting these pains ever since she woke up. She rushes into the nearest cubicle and locks the door, sinking down onto the floor. She pulls up her blouse and sees the tiny pink mark left by Gene shooting her. The mark that reminds her every day of what's been taken away from her. She knows she shouldn't care; it isn't real after all. But she still feels like if she ever did decide to stay here, if she ever fell in love, she wouldn't be able to give her man what he wants; a family. She gasps as another wave of pain shoots through her and she dives over to the toilet, throwing up violently. Wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, she stands up weakly and unlocks the door. She is just rinsing her hands when Gene charges through the door.
"You know this used to be the ladies," she says, walking over to the hand drier.
He gives her a quick scowl then remembers why he came in there in the first place.
"Bomb's just gone off on Arnold Road."
