"Your father's not normally this late home!" Said Chummy as she stroked the head of her sleepy son.
Peter was due home almost four hours ago. Chummy tried to hide her worry, she knew although Freddie was only young he could still pick up on her moods. She just stood there, her eyes on Freddie as he fell into a deep sleep, occasionally glancing out of the window hoping she would soon see her husband arriving home. Before long Freddie was truly in the land of nod, each breath releasing a small wheeze. The poor lad was still trying to fight off the latest chest infection. Chummy had become a regular visitor to Dr Turner's surgery if not for Fred then for herself. As soon as one person felt better another was struck down with different symptoms. Chummy had been standing at the window waiting for over an hour now, still no Peter. The bedroom was growing cold, the early hours closed in. She was of course used to nights without her husband by her side, but tonight she couldn't help but think something was wrong. He was never this late, and if his shift ever needs to be extended he always rings to let her know.
"He probably has a really important case going on, one that he cannot possibly leave!" Whispered Chummy to herself in an attempt to calm her nerves.
She headed for the bathroom reaching for her nightie and gown that hung on the chair of her dressing table as she passed. She wandered out to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Freddie's wheeze harshened, it developed into a small cough. Moments later she returned to the bedroom and took one last glance out of the window. The moon was full, hovering just above the houses opposite. She couldn't help but worry.
"Do you really have to go?" Asked Trixie as Tom vacated their bed.
"I'm afraid the station were very persistent." Replied Tom as he gathered his clothes.
"What is so important that they need to drag you out of bed at 1am?" Sulked Trixie as she lit a cigarette.
"Must you smoke in here dear? I thought we agreed that you wouldn't smoke in the house?"
"You cannot expect me to stand out in the freezing cold, when it does no harm to smoke indoors." Argued Trixie as she took a drag.
"I must go, Sergeant Noakes sounded very stressed. I don't believe this is going to be a straightforward case."
Trixie stubbed out her cigarette and tucked herself back into the bed, turning her back on her new husband. "Goodnight!"
Tom raced out of the house and into the cold. He was right, what was waiting for him at the station was far from straightforward.
"Miss, Miss, please calm down!" Sergeant Noakes said as he tried to approach a lady that had been brought into custody.
She was blind drunk and throwing herself all over the place. She had previously been sick, and was now trailing vomit all through the station, Peter was handed a pair of gloves along with some tissues and was pushed towards her.
"Miss, I am here to help you!" Said Peter hoping to ease her fear. "Does anything hurt?"
Peter persisted with his efforts to help her but was thanked by a smack in the mouth. Accidentally of course, but unfortunately, assaulting a police officer was to be added to her list of offences.
"Who was that on the phone?" Asked Shelagh as Patrick returned to the bedroom.
"The London, Dr. Birk has been sent home with flu symptoms, they need me to cover the rest of his shift." Replied Patrick as he too stripped from his Pyjamas.
"But its 1am. How are you supposed to run a surgery if you are always being seconded to the London?"
"I am relief staff, if they need me they call, there's nothing I can do about it. The shift finishes at five, I will come home and grab forty winks then open the surgery at nine as normal!" Smiled Patrick as he exited the bedroom, popping back in to blow a kiss to his wife, then disappearing once more.
"Still no Daddy, I am afraid!" Said Chummy as she cuddled Freddie.
he woke himself through coughing, a fever was starting to develop once again. Chummy had filled the room with bowls of boiling water, she knew that the steam would help ease his chest. A warm cloth lay on the bedside table, she would lie it across Freddie's forehead trying to draw out the fever.
"In the time of swords and periwigs and full-skirted coats with flowered lappets - when gentlemen wore ruffles and gold laced waistcoats of paduasoy and taffeta - there lived a tailor in Gloucester." Read Chummy as she rocked Freddie hoping he would return to sleep.
"Look who I found tucked in between the pillows!" Smiled Chummy as she reached under the pillow. "It is Lady and Gentleman Mouse!"
She pulled out two small mice teddies, that she had made the week before. Everytime they start a new Beatrix Potter Book, Chummy makes the relevant characters in teddy form. Lady and Gentleman Mouse join Peter Rabbit, Benjamin Bunny, Squirrel Nutkin and Tom Kitten in Freddie's collection. Freddie took them in his grasp and began to suck on his thumb, gently falling back to sleep.
"So what do we have?" Shouted Dr Turner as he burst through the doors of the emergency ward.
"We have a gentleman with stab wounds." A nurse replied. "They bleeding has been stemmed and Dr Birk was about to clean the wounds just before he became ill."
Dr Turner changed into his crisp white scrubs and started to clean the wounds.
"Do we know how this happened?"
"I believe it was a mugging sir!" Answered one of the nurses.
"Miss! Miss! You must get up off the floor. You cannot go to sleep there!" Said Peter trying to keep calm.
"Don't touch me!" She replied, her words rather slurred.
"Please, you need to get up. I can take you into a different room where you can sleep. You will be safe!" Continued Peter.
"Right Madam, we are not playing this game. This is a police station, not a bed and breakfast for every common drunk. Either you get up on your own or two of my officers will help you up." Shouted Inspector Fielding, who'd been watching from his office for sometime. "You have til the count of three! One. Two. Three! Right! Noakes, Brown, get her up and throw her in a cell!"
He returned to his office as Peter and Constable Brown struggled with the lady. They led her down the corridor towards cell D. Her balance was all over the place and of course the choice of shoes were not helping the situation.
"Do you think she's a prostitute sir?" Quizzed Constable Brown.
"I'm not sure Brown, these clothes look designer."
"She could be an escort!" Replied Brown.
"And the difference is?"
"Well, an escort is someone who spends more than just the night with you. You take them out for dates. Buy them things." Grinned the constable as they entered Cell D.
"Talking from experience are we?" Winked Peter.
"I may be a little bit drunk but I can still hear what you are saying! I am not a prostitute nor am I an escort! I am a singer and my name is Bella!"
Peter and Constable Brown helped Bella onto the bed. Brown exited and returned moments later with a blanket and a cup of nescafe.
"This should sober you up! Get some sleep and we will question you in the morning!" Said Peter as he exited.
As he closed the door he felt a Tap on his shoulder. He jumped a mile. Banging his head on the door frame.
"Sorry! I didn't mean to make you jump!" Giggled Tom. "You leapt up like a petrified cat!"
"Thank you for coming, I'm so sorry to have rung you so late. We have a prisoner who has requested a visit. He says he hears voices." Said Peter ignoring Tom's earlier comments.
"Voices?"
Tom followed Peter down the corridor, he wasn't really sure what was happening. Peter suddenly stopped at a door, he lifted a hatch and the gentleman ran towards it.
"Are you God's helper?" He screamed, lips pressed up against the hatch.
His hand reached through, he was trying to touch the cross that rested around Tom's neck.
"Can you help me?"
Tom and Peter looked to each other as he resumes his place on the bed.
"I won't leave you alone with him!" Whisphered Peter. "We can keep it like this for the time being, if you don't feel safe?"
"No its okay, open the door. You stay out here, I'll be okay!"
With a nod Peter opened the door and in walked Tom.