The gin lost its appeal after Janet and Rachel had left. Getting rat-arsed in rebellion seemed less empowering somehow when you remembered Rachel Bailey. The kid was far better at it than Gill was anyway. There was style to her levels of drama. Besides, Sammy didn't need both of his parents passed out senseless before the night was out, did he? That'd be a great example for Orla of what a copper's life could be.
Gill found she was quite steady on her legs as she made her way downstairs. The party was in full swing now. Orla and Sammy were surrounded by well-wishers, and she stopped a moment to watch them fondly. They were mental getting engaged at their age, but who the hell was to say what sane really was, actually? They were young, and full of life, and life was a strange and fucked up thing. Let them grab happiness where they saw it.
She had a sudden flash of blue eyes, framed in a rear-view mirror. The saddest blue eyes she'd ever seen in her life maybe, and with everything she'd seen over the years that was saying something. Suddenly Gill was certain she didn't want to be among a gang of teenage revellers. She needed something else. She needed other coppers, she thought. Who'd look at her, and nod, and know. She didn't want to talk or anything, but maybe to share another drink or even bum a fag.
With one last look at Sammy she turned and made her way to the kitchen where the crowd was thinner, older, and on average about a hundred times more cynical. Janet and Rachel had already left, but Mitch was there looking solidly out of place against her sideboard. Gill was about to approach him when she realised that standing next to Mitch, bending his ear, was a sloshed Dave Murray. There was a plea for rescue in Mitch's eyes as they locked onto hers from across the room, but Gill ignored it. Tonight of all nights life was too short to deal with her ex husband and his bullshit.
Instead she made a beeline for the open back door and the cool night air outside. Should have invited Pete Readyough, she thought, rubbing the bruise at the side of her neck. Least then she wouldn't be the saddest case here. Of course, Julie would say -
Gill stopped in her tracks.
Julie wasn't here. How had she not noticed until now? In fact she'd not seen Julie since it happened. She'd spoken to her on the phone while she was at the hospital and Jules was still barking orders at everybody from the RED centre, but that had been hours ago. Julie hadn't come tonight at all. A few seconds of stupefaction at her own failure to think of her best friend sooner was quickly replaced by an absolute certainty that she was the person Gill most needed to see right now. She wanted Julie to call her a stupid mare, and tease her about the party, and give her a hug, and be solidly, reliably, strong and tall and present. But Julie wasn't at the party, and Gill was in no fit state to drive. Well, it looked like Mitch was going to get his escape route after all.
She didn't want to worry Sammy, but she wasn't about to disappear without an explanation to anyone either. So she found Ben - whom she'd been thinking of as Sammy's sensible and sober friend since the boys were about eleven - and explained where she was going, who she was with, and when she'd be back in case her son missed her and panicked. For good measure she found three or four chip-carrying colleagues and told them too - grateful for once that AA members were over-represented at this level of her profession. Then Gill grabbed Mitch as her chauffeur and slipped out unnoticed.
Julie Dodson stared blankly at her half-finished report. She lifted her fingers to type another sentence and found she couldn't remember what the last one was about. Since she'd sat down to start this night had fallen and the office had grown dark around her, save for the glowing computer screen. Julie considered getting up to turn on the light, but found no motivation to put the thought into action. With a thorough absence of guilt or shame she switched windows with a click and stared blankly at Facebook instead. Pat Dagleish was back from her Olivia Cruise. Janet Leonard had been stood up by an Amazon delivery. Sinéad Quinn had checked in from Sammy Murray's engagement party.
Julie waited for her brain to supply a reaction to any of this, but nothing was forthcoming. Exes and parties and people who narrated their whole lives online all crashed in a jumble against the same eerie feeling of disconnection she'd been overwhelmed by all evening. Well, at least that was better than the mortifying sobbing fit that had caught up with her about ten minutes after she'd gotten out of Regional Emergency Dispatch. Thank Christ nobody had been there to witness that. Shock was a bloody ridiculous thing.
Right, Julie thought, pulling herself back to lucidity. Turn off the computer. Stand up. Go home. Sleep this off and deal with it in the morning. She got as far as scooting her chair back, then sat still with her arms braced on her knees, staring at the floor. In that last moment had Helen Bartlett thought about taking Gill with her anyway with one more flick of the knife? Had it occurred to her? Would she have done it if they'd moved in sooner? If Janet Scott had said something different? If the damn wind had been blowing in a different direction or Gill had worn a different coloured shirt? And then would she have seen it happen on the cameras, or not known until Rachel Bailey came and told her that they'd heard - Christ.
She wasn't dealing with this well. She knew she wasn't. Just go home, she ordered herself again. Because tomorrow you're going to have to talk to Gill about everything she went through, and if you haven't got a grip by then you're going to make a complete tit of yourself. If she could just get her head straight before she had to face Gill then it would all be okay. The agonising what-ifs she could deal with on her own time. Sleep would help. And maybe a couple of hours on duty in the morning, putting the fear of God into some of the uniforms before she had deal with her best friend face to sodding perfect beautiful stupid face.
A little time was what she needed, that was all. But when had the universe ever been that kind? When Julie finally got her body to obey her brain's commands and rose to leave her office Gill Murray was standing in the doorway.