Author's note: all usual disclaimers apply. For all of you who ever think about having a mid-life crisis.
Tommy Lynley did not need to be the Met's most brilliant Detective Inspector to see that his sergeant was miserable. She had been grouchy and snappy all week so in desperation he had taken her to their 'serious pub' for a chat after they finished up on Friday. The Lord of the Isles was a traditional establishment dominated by wood panelling, gleaming brass and strong beer. Over the years it was where they had gravitated when one or other had something serious on their mind that they wanted to share.
Barbara had not opened up to him as they had eaten their fish and chips so after their third pint Tommy took a calming breath then tried to sound supportive but not intense. "Cheer up Havers. Whatever is bothering you can't be that bad. You do know I'm here for you to talk, or help?"
She looked at him over the rim of her glass. She had downed the pints too quickly for his liking and looked as if she might bite his head clean off his shoulders. "I'm trying to decide between getting a tattoo, dying my hair blue or having some intimate body piercing."
Tommy choked on his beer. He struggled to breathe in a coughing fit that had turned his face crimson. He tried to focus - breath in through the nose, out through the mouth. Intimate body piercing!
Barbara jumped up and started to pat and rub his back. It was pleasant in a totally unhelpful way. When his breathing did not calm she began to give him a series of blows designed to make him suck air into his lungs but in reality only made his back ache. He waved his hands to insist she stop. Slowly he regained control of his breathing and his coughing died to a hoarse attempt to clear his throat.
"Was that no to intimate piercings?" she asked cheekily with the first smile she had given him all week.
"You caught me somewhat unawares with that one I admit," he said in a strained voice, "I presume you are joking but may I ask what has led to contemplation of such drastic steps? Something's troubling you Barbara."
She sighed. "It sounds silly but my hairdresser found a few grey hairs last Saturday when I had my hair cut. It made me realise I'm getting old. I'll be forty in a few months and what do I have to show for my life? No partner, no kids, no real friends, a mortgage that I'll still be paying when I start drawing the pension and I can't even keep a cat because of the weird hours at work."
"Do you want a cat?"
"No, but that's not the point! I just don't know what my purpose is in life. I feel like I'm just floating along wasting it all. I'll end up a lonely bitter woman in a home looking back on a life filled with criminals."
"Your life is not a waste. Our work is important to keep the community safe and retain confidence in law and order. You're a wonderful detective with a very different viewpoint. You understand human nature better than most which is why you're invaluable to me and the Met. Different people live different lives. You don't need to tick off a checklist. There is no checklist of success. It's what's in your heart that counts."
"Exactly. Nice speech but I feel like I've wasted my life - outside of work."
"Well by your scoresheet then I must be a champion loser. Over forty, no relationship, a failed marriage, no offspring, friends who only like me for my money, seventeen years of isolation from my Mother and a strained relationship now, a drug-addicted brother who barely speaks to me etc etc. Yep I win."
"Don't be stupid Sir. You're an Earl, a brilliant detective, you have Simon as a friend, and me, and your marriage wasn't a failure. It was cut tragically short."
"Hmm, it would have failed Barbara but let's not talk about that. What do you want to do with your life?"
"I don't know. I just want to feel noticed and needed I guess. I have visions of dying and not having a funeral because no one would be there to care. What do they call this? A mid-life crisis? I just want to feel I've meant something to the world or someone in it."
"And intimate piercings would help that how?" he smirked.
Barbara shook her head as if trying not to smile. "Just to make me feel like I'm not boring old Havers for a day or two!"
Tommy reached across the table and took her hand. She looked up at him as he had intended. "Barbara you are never boring and I would be there because I care and I would miss you terribly. Remember that night I came to your flat?" Barbara nodded. "I went to you because there was no one else in the world I could ever say what I needed to say without them judging me. I asked you how you did it; how you lived alone and seemed content. Remember what you said?"
Tommy saw the tears well in her eyes. "That I was used to it and that you find something else, another reason to get up in the morning."
"Remember what I said?"
Barbara looked at him with that same fondness that she had then and a small smile curled her mouth. Tommy's insides tightened just as they had that night. "We both do."
"That hasn't changed Barbara," he said softly. That night he had been so tempted to reach out for her and kiss her but he had known it would have undermined a deeper connection. He had not been able to give her everything then and love her the way she deserved to loved. Tonight he was free of the complications and restrictions that had troubled him then. He brought her hand up and kissed it softly. "Let me take you home."
Barbara seemed nervous as she sat in Tommy's car. He was anxious too, unsure what his intentions had been when he had asked to take her home. He could not honestly say if he had meant Chalk Farm or Belgravia. He decided to drive to her place. As he turned that way he glanced across to see Barbara relax slightly. He could drop her out the front as he often did or he could go in for a nightcap, something that was also not unusual. It did not mean he had to stay.
He locked his car and followed her up the path to her flat. Wordlessly they went inside and as usual she began to surreptitiously throw items of drying clothing behind her furniture. She smiled as he watched her and he grinned back. He walked over and put his hand on her arm then pulled her into a hug. She put her cheek on his chest and he felt her take a deep breath as she put her arms around him. He softly kissed the top of her head then held her tightly. Cradling her and feeling her hold him just as ardently was comforting on a level far deeper than he had expected. He wanted to love her the way she deserved. She looked up and he watched her eyes for an invitation to kiss her. Instead there was uncertainty and fear. She straightened up and pulled away from him. The moment was lost. "Thanks Sir, for being a good friend."
He sighed knowing that she was not ready to let him in behind the last layers of her well-constructed defences. I could be so much more Barbara if you let me! "Always Barbara. I'll always be your friend. Well I had better go. I'll ring you tomorrow. Maybe we could go to dinner?"
As they walked to the door Barbara seemed to be debating something with herself. "Yeah, I'd like that. There's a new place in Camden I'd like to try."
Tommy grinned at her. "Right, well I'll ring you around noon. Goodnight Barbara." He leant down and kissed her lightly on her cheek before going to his car. As he unlocked it he looked up and waved. Barbara waved and for a moment he thought she was about to call him back. He drove away looking in his rearview mirror at her standing on the kerb watching him.
Barbara regretted rebuffing her boss as soon as he was drove away. The loneliness was a heavy price to pay for pride but she had not wanted his sympathy. She longed to have his lips on hers and his arms around her, although she could not think beyond that without excruciating embarrassment. She wanted that too but on equal terms where he wanted her for who she was and not as an act of charity. She sensed he had been prepared to sleep with her to boost her self-esteem and make her feel wanted. It made her feel warm and fuzzy that he valued her enough to make that sacrifice but Barbara wanted to feel loved as a woman not as a good friend who needed a boost.
She shuffled slowly back into her lounge room and poured a drink that she downed quickly. She poured a second and began to pick up her discarded washing before heading for her shower. As the steaming water ran over her body she was pleased she had agreed to see Tommy tomorrow. She wanted company and she always enjoyed it when he took her out. It had been quiet at work in the last two weeks and yet they had still had a pint together most evenings and had eaten a few meals in nice but moderate restaurants, ostensibly so neither of them had to cook. If she was not as astute she could almost think they had been dating. She smiled at the thought and filed it away. He was her friend, her mate, not her lover.
Barbara had another drink. There was a screech of brakes and the roar of a car as it tore down the main street nearby, well over the legal limit. Hoons had been stealing cars in the area lately and terrorising the neighbourhood with their burnouts and skylarking. She turned the stereo on and closed her eyes. In the distance she could hear sirens and hoped that the hoons had been arrested.
She was half-dozing but thinking of Tommy, floating pleasantly just above reality but below stupidity so when her phone rang it took her a few moments to remember to answer it. "Havers."
"Sergeant Havers it's Assistant Commissioner Hillier." Beyond that she only heard a few words "disturbing news about Lynley", "fatal road accident", "Lynley's car was T-boned by joyriders" "looks like he was going to your flat" and "sending someone around now."
Barbara said nothing. She could not listen to more and pressed 'end'. She sank onto her bed and her universe imploded. If she had just let him stay he would have been safe. Her pride had killed the only man in the world she had ever loved and the only person who had understood her.
Suddenly it dawned on her - the noises she had heard were the accident. She slipped a coat over her flannette Lion King pyjamas, grabbed her warrant card and phone and shoved them in the pocket then pulled on her joggers. She slammed the front door and ran towards the sirens. She would have sold her soul to have the last hour back.