He got through another half a cigarette before he was approached by one of the blokes in a suit. It was the younger one, the one that had been taking orders from the posh old guy, and Alex prepared his best sullen teenage sneer in advance of whatever stupid questions he was about to be asked.
"Alex?" the cop said, and Alex rolled his eyes. Who else would he be, standing in the family's back garden like he was?
"Yeah," he said unwillingly, not that it seemed to make a difference in the Geordie cop's attitude.
"I'm Detective Sergeant Lewis. Can you tell me what happened today?" he asked neutrally, without any trace of suspicion about Alex's involvement. Alex hadn't expected that. He was used to being the target of suspicion because of his attitude and reputation. The attitude kept kids his age from giving him trouble. The reputation made people his parents' age more likely to give him trouble.
"Already told that other copper about it," Alex said dismissively, taking another drag and not looking at the sergeant.
"Can you please tell me?" Lewis asked, although it wasn't really a request. It was a nice way of not being a request, though.
Alex sighed heavily, flicked ash, and still didn't make eye contact with the cop. "I got home from school a little early. My dad was lying in the garage. He wasn't breathing. I called 999, but they couldn't do nothing. Then you lot came and now the house is full of cops and crying people. Sum it up well enough?"
"Why did you leave school early?" Lewis asked, noting down Alex's answers in a notebook like some Sherlock Holmes type.
"Got tired of being there," he shrugged, glancing up. "Not like it'll matter whether I'm there or not."
Lewis gave him a long look at that, and Alex waited for it to turn into suspicion now. It still didn't. Instead Lewis gestured to his cigarette.
"Not the best habit to have," he noted mildly, and Alex scoffed. As if this plodder knew anything about him, as if he had any right to be giving advice. Alex was just another case to him.
"What's it to you?" he challenged, and watched the sergeant's eyes wander to the old guy.
"Just know a bit about how much trouble bad habits can cause you later on," Lewis said mildly, and then changed the subject again. "Can you think of anyone who'd want to hurt your dad?"
He'd been asked that question before, of course. He'd managed to be flippant about it, probably because the other copper had been so obviously ready to believe that Alex was involved. Lewis clearly hadn't decided Alex was involved, though, and he felt his sullen expression slip.
"I - No. He was great," he said haltingly, and then got himself back under control and coolly took another drag. "I mean, for an old guy."
"Right," the sergeant said. He didn't look or sound any more sympathetic, but somehow Alex thought he was. It should have irritated him, but it didn't.
"Any other questions?" he asked arrogantly, all but daring the copper to ask more.
"No, not right now," Sergeant Lewis said nicely. "We might have more later since you were the one who found him. Where d'ye go to school?"
"The Oxford School. Dunno if I'll go tomorrow. Grieving, innit?" he said, chuckling humorlessly. It was a good excuse to skive off. That he actually was grieving his dad was something no one needed to know.
Lewis looked at him again, and Alex felt like he saw right into him, saw the scared kid who'd just lost his dad. He didn't know how a copper could look past the smoking and the defiance, but he was sure he had. Alex'd had been planning to say something really narky to drive the man away, but the words wouldn't come. Instead he dropped the end of the cigarette and ground it under his trainer, buying himself some time.
The moment, whatever it was, was broken when the posh old bloke with the bad habits called out from the back door and the sergeant turned away from Alex.
"Thanks for your time, Alex," Lewis said nicely. "We'll let you know if we have any more questions, alright?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever," Alex dismissed, and pulled out another cigarette. Lewis glanced down at it and then back at Alex . He didn't smile. If he'd smiled, Alex would have ignored everything he said.
"If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. There are resources for you," Lewis pointed out. "People to talk to. People who'll help."
"What, like you?" Alex sneered, but it was weak.
"No, not me," the sergeant demurred. "Just a simple copper, me, but it's Oxford. Smart people everywhere. Good people. People who'll hold out a hand when you need it. Just think about it."
With that, he turned away and walked up the garden in his mid-range suit and old shoes, and Alex stared after him, forgetting to light the cigarette. Detective Sergeant Lewis was smarter than he seemed, Alex was sure of it, and for all that he said he wasn't the one to help, Alex felt like he'd just held out a hand to him anyway.
He remembered the cigarette in his hand, lit it, and leaned his head back against the wall. One more, and then he'd go face the new reality of his life.