Author's note: all usual disclaimers apply.
I have been travelling a bit so my thoughts wandered.
Dorothy Lynley screamed and threw her pitchfork into the hay. She turned and cursed the mare that had just broken the fence and was now cantering up the hill. The damned animal stopped and looked back at her as if taunting her. She picked up the fork and threw it towards it but it fell well short. The chestnut horse snorted then turned and ran freely, its black mane streaming in the wind.
Enough was enough. She was too old for playing lady of the manor and it was about time her son either came back to run the estate or sold it to the National Trust. She could be anonymous in London. Lady Asherton could retire to a nice townhouse in Chelsea where she could be simply Dorothy Lynley except on necessary occasions. Even Knightsbridge would suit her and she could attend the ballet or opera, and eat in restaurants with fine linen and silver cutlery rather than the fish and chipperies of Nanrunnel. This time she would not sacrifice what remained of her life so that Tommy could feel good about himself doing his civic duty as a policeman.
She trudged wearily to the house and telephoned the estate manager. "Lynley's Glory broke her fence down again. She's running up in the cliff paddocks."
Her second call was to Tommy, the Eighth Earl of Asherton. She was about to launch into a tirade when she she paused. "Who's that?"
"Good morning Lady Asherton. It's Barbara, Barbara Havers. Sorry the DI is indisposed at the moment. Can I take a message and get him to call you?"
Dorothy wondered if her son was using his sergeant to field his calls. "Tell Lord Asherton that his precious brood mare has escaped."
"Right," Barbara replied hesitantly, "any other message?"
"Yes! Tell him I quit!" Dorothy slammed down the phone and instantly regretted her rudeness. It was not Barbara's fault. She was angry with Tommy, not her. She would ring back and apologise but not until she had showered.
Barbara looked at the phone then placed it back on the table to finish recharging. Her boss would be back from his meeting with the Hillier and the prosecutor soon. As she sorted through their statements for the trial tomorrow she smiled at the thought of Lady Asherton storming off Howenstowe in a fit of rage. Mother and son were frighteningly similar but both would hate to acknowledge it.
It was almost an hour before he sauntered in to the office. "Sorry, it took longer than I thought. Did anything happen?"
"Yeah, sort of. Your mother rang. She said your precious brood mare has escaped and that she quits. She sounded pretty upset."
"Did you try to calm her?"
"No. She hung up on me."
Tommy sighed heavily then ran his hand through his hair. "Should I ring her back do you think?"
"Er, yeah, I definitely think. I'll leave you to it. I need a break."
Tommy took three deep breaths then hit his mother's speed-dial button. She answered on the third ring. "Good afternoon Mother."
Ten minutes later, his ear throbbing, he dialled off. His mother seemed determined this time. She had threatened to leave the estate before he had married Helen but this time he knew she meant it. They had argued, as they often did, about his responsibilities. In many ways he would be happy to return to Cornwall but he could not leave his job and more troublingly he could not leave his partner of ten years. He knew it was not healthy but he needed Barbara. She kept him grounded; kept him sane. If he thought she would ever consider a transfer to Cornwall he would have asked. They could both live at Howenstowe. There was plenty of room. They could dine with each other when time allowed and at weekends maybe go walking along the clifftops. He could even help her with her cases; act as a sounding board for her theories. There were less murders in Cornwall so she would have a better work-life balance. They could live some sort of life together. He shook his head and dismissed the thought. It would never work. How could he even ask her?
"Did you sort your mother out?" Barbara asked when he emerged from his office. He beckoned her over and closed the door behind them.
"Not really. They caught the mare. She was unharmed. Mother asked me to apologise for her rudeness. I promised her we would go down this weekend."
"Right okay," Barbara replied almost automatically. "We?"
"I know it's asking a lot but I could do with the moral support. She'll be less...aggressive with you there."
Barbara tried not to look at his pleading brown eyes, two pools of anxiety and friendship that she could never refuse. "No Sir, I think you need to be a big, brave Earl and face up to your mother by yourself."
Tommy could not help but grin at her. "Please?"
"When are you leaving?"
"Friday afternoon. We'll drive back on Sunday afternoon."
"You will. I don't remember agreeing to go."
"I need you Barbara." Tommy knew that her resistance was partly game but mostly genuine. She, understandably, did not want to be caught up in their family quarrels but he did need her with him.
Barbara looked up. He had never said that so blatantly. Even that night he had turned up distraught at her flat they had talked in abstract about their dependency on each other. He was serious and she was touched by the raw honesty in his voice. She knew she could not refuse. He had a way of spellbinding her that was frustrating yet wonderful. The damned man knew she would relent but she was not going to let him walk over her. "Why?"
It was a simple question but the answer was incredibly complex. Tommy opened his mouth to speak then clamped it shut. "Because," he finally managed feebly.
"Didn't your mother ever teach you that 'because' is not an answer. I'll come with you if you can tell me why you need me." She tried not to look smug but she knew by his red face that he was at a disadvantage.
"Let's have dinner. I'll think how to phrase it properly and tell you then."
"It's not something you can look up in one of your books you know Sir."
"I know. I just want time to think...about how to answer. Seven o'clock?"
"Somewhere I can wear jeans," she shot back, "I'm not going to have you try to make me uncomfortable so that you don't have to answer."
"Jeans it is. I'll pick you up."
Barbara smiled briefly then left him to ponder. She tidied her paperwork and headed for the bus. She might intend to dress casually but she wanted a shower and she had to check she had a clean pair of denims. It would be awkward to have to dress in her best trousers after making her point.
Tommy sat as his desk thinking about his answer. He had come within a hair's breadth of blurting out something he had never even consciously thought. He had almost told her he loved her. Now she was gone he was able to smile broadly. He was in love with her. It made perfect sense and opened so many possibilities but it also brought a thunderstorm of problems. How could he possibly tell her that he loved her? How could he solve his mother's problem without being separated from Barbara? How could he ever bear to be without her? How could he suggest she move to Cornwall when she was a London girl? He ran his hands through his hair. One problem at a time. First he had to tell her he loved her. Or did he?
Tommy made two phone calls then drove to Barbara's flat. He nervously wiped his sweaty hands down his trousers then practised his smile before he knocked. He shifted his weight across his feet twice before the door answered. "Good evening my, er Barbara."
"My what?" she smirked.
"My favourite sergeant?" he suggested hopefully.
"Hmm, you must really want me to come with you."
"I do, rather desperately," he admitted as Barbara shut the door and checked it had locked properly.
"You really think she means it this time don't you?"
Relieved to be able to talk about anything other than their relationship he started to tell her everything. "She's threatened before but she knew Helen would never move down there. Helen thought it far too provincial." Tommy opened the car door for her and noticed her eyebrow shoot up. He raced around and hopped in the driver's side allowing her to pull her own door closed. "Then after we separated Mother knew I had to wait, then after Helen...Mother never pushed me but this time I think she is really finding it too much. She wants to do other things with her life and I can't blame her."
"But what about...your life?" Barbara had been thinking about his dilemma since she had left the office. Tommy was acting as if he needed her permission to leave. She did not want him to go but he could not stay because of their partnership. It made no sense but she knew in his position she would hesitate too. "Are there any DI roles in Cornwall?"
Tommy grinned at the way she could read his mind. "Yes, a junior one. I rang to check this afternoon."
"No good. What about DCI? You should have been promoted years ago."
"Nothing immediate but I am not sure I want to continue in the service. If I go back I should put time into the estate."
Barbara stared out the window. It seemed he had made his decision. She was not surprised but it hurt. Just the thought of not seeing him everyday, not being able to argue with him, not having him arrive with a coffee in the early morning when they had to drive to a crime scene brought a lump to her throat. "I'll miss you." She had not meant to sound so pathetic.
"There are things we need to talk about Barbara but not in the car."
She was unsure whether she had been chastised or whether the waiver in his voice was a similar emotion. They sat in silence until he pulled up at his fashionable Belgrave house. "Chez Tommy, the finest food served with a jeans-friendly ambience!"
They looked at each other and grinned. Tommy had ordered a dine-in service for eight o'clock. He escorted Barbara to his lounge and asked her to sit while he fetched two beers from his well-stocked refrigerator. He had only taken a sip when the door rang and he left Barbara while he showed the chef his kitchen and dining room. "Won't be long," he said as he returned.
She smiled up at him. She had almost tucked her feet under her on his sofa. She subtly moved to sit more demurely. "So do you do this often? Order dinner to be brought to you?"
"No; it's run by the wife of a school chum. I thought it might be perfect tonight so we can...talk."
"Why don't you just admit..."
"Sir, dinner is served," the waiter announced pompously.
Tommy put his hand gently in the small of her back as he guided her into his dining room. A small circular table had been set up next to his carved mahogany monolith. The intimate table was draped in crisp white linen and set with glinting silverware. At the centre of the table was a floral setting with three red candles which the waiter lit as Tommy pulled out Barbara's chair.
"I said jeans-friendly," she hissed as the waiter left the room, turning off all the lights except a lamp in the far corner. It was a little too cosy, romantic even, and she felt like a goldfish on carpet.
"My house, my dress rules but that doesn't mean we can't have a nice meal."
The waiter returned with appetisers. Barbara was not sure whether to use cutlery or her fingers to eat the six little snacks on her plate. She waited until Tommy began. He had delicately picked them up between his thumb and forefinger and placed all of the little pancake into his mouth. When she Imitated him she found it was salmony but delicious. "Hmm, these are good," she said after the prawn nori.
He smiled at her softly. "You sound surprised."
"We you know me, pig's ear and all that."
"I disagree. You are well past that stubborn class distinction phase. You only need the opportunity to blossom into a beautiful, cultured woman."
Barbara almost spat her sip of beer in a manner that would have completely contradicted him. "How much have you had to drink?"
"One day you will learn how to take a compliment," he said grumpily.
"Sorry. Thank you Sir, but you're having a delusion."
"No I'm not actually. Barbara this is long overdue but I..."
The waiter reappeared. He cleared the table then reset it for soup. He ladled out steaming creamy soup. Barbara remembered that the soup spoon always went from the front of the bowl to the rear. She focussed hard on eating correctly and not slurping. She could not identify the taste but it was tasty and slightly spicy. "Spiced cauliflower," the waiter said in answer to her unasked question.
Tommy decided to keep the dinner conversation light and general. Earlier awkwardness disappeared as they ate tender eye fillets grilled to perfection and served with thick cut chips and crisp green beans. Barbara wondered how often they were asked to provide steak and chips as part of the service. She smiled lovingly at Tommy knowing he was trying hard to make her feel relaxed. The painful thought that she would miss him made her pause. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the time they had together.
Tommy had been watching her carefully and had not missed her expression. It made him sad yet hopeful. Her expression changed to pure joy when she saw the mousse - three large spoonfuls of dark, white and milk chocolate on a bed of crumbled chocolate biscuit and drizzled with double cream topped with golden shards of toffee. He watched mesmerised as she devoured hers then helped finish the one that lay half-eaten in front of him.
They retired to the lounge where Tommy prepared Black Russians as digestifs. Barbara sat contentedly on his couch. She had enjoyed the meal and the effort he had gone to make her feel comfortable. They continued to chat about work until they had finished their drinks and the restaurant staff had packed and were about to leave. Tommy made them second drinks then left Barbara while he discreetly paid and escorted the waiter and chef to his door. He wanted to ensure they were alone.
Barbara was relaxed; perhaps too relaxed. She wanted to hear his explanation to her challenge earlier but she also knew she would go with him at the weekend regardless and thought perhaps not knowing would be less disturbing. When he returned she was ready. "Thank you for dinner. It was lovely. I will come with you this weekend if you want me to, but I want it on record that the dinner did not persuade me."
Tommy laughed softly then sat on the sofa next to her. He noted her surprise and grinned at her. He could easily have sat on the opposite end of the couch but he had chosen to be next to her, so close in fact that his thigh burned where it touched hers. "I wasn't trying to bribe you. I was trying to set the atmosphere to tell you something else."
Barbara lowered her gaze into her drink. She studied the way it reflected light as she swirled it in the glass. "I've guessed," she said slowly.
Tommy swallowed hard. "So how do you feel about it?"
"I understand your reasoning but I'll miss you. I...I'll really miss you."
Realising she thought he had decided to go to Cornwall and not that he loved her Tommy put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. "You don't have to miss me. You could come with me..."
"To Cornwall? Are you daft? What would I do there if you weren't working? It wouldn't be the same."
Tommy lifted her chin with his hand so she was forced to look at him. "No, I'm not daft. For a start you could take the DI's role in St Ives. Your name is second on the promotion list. I checked that today. Don't look at me like that. Of course I know you took you exams when I was trying to drink myself to death."
"I wasn't sure you'd ever come back to me. I only coped by burying my head in work."
"I wish I'd never shut you out then, I'm sorry Barbara. The thing is...I don't want everything to be the same between us any more. I want something else." He leant forward and kissed her.
