Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Where was that cat when she wanted him? If only he lived for food like normal pets, where even if you just kicked their food bowl accidently as you walked past, they would come racing from nowhere thinking that it was dinnertime. But not Jerry. He couldn't care less. He was very much his own cat, just like she was her own person. They really suited each other quite well when she thought about it.
But right now he was making her late for work. She spooned a few globs of Whiskers into his bowl and walked out the door, unable to wait and call out to him any longer to see if he was inside or outside. If he was outside he'd just have to wait until dinner. Jennifer walked briskly down the front path and stopped only for a moment to drop the empty cat food tin into her recycling bin before she slipped stealthily into her car. As she pumped the accelerator and turned the key in the ignition to wake her car up on the impossibly cold morning, the digital clock lit up brightly on the dash. 7:47am. She usually liked to allow twenty minutes to get in to the office, but as she backed out of the driveway she felt confident she could do it in thirteen. She flew up the street and was into the morning traffic in moments.
Almost there, she entered a clear, long stretch of road that was the final leg of her trip. Time was ticking, and she was beginning to get twitchy about being late. A red ute sat in front of her, doing well under the 100km that was allowed on the highway. She cursed the driver inside her head as his brake lights flickered on ever so tentatively and she changed lanes with the flash of her indicator. Out of my way, she thought, eager to get to the kitchenette in the Homicide office that always promised a new carton of milk and packet of biscuits on Monday mornings, thanks to Homicide's favourite cleaning lady. Jennifer could practically taste the coffee already.
More brake lights. No room. No distance. No time. She pressed hard on her brakes as the car in front of her stopped almost to a standstill. She gasped, not even reacting quick enough to swear, and tried in vain to control her small car. She heard the squeal of her tyres, felt the skid of her wheels and smelt the burning of rubber all at once as she fishtailed into the lane she'd just changed out of. She pulled at the steering wheel one way, but her car went the other and her eyes opened wide as she tried to direct her car and keep her life.
But as quickly as it had happened it was over. She was in her lane again. Her heart wasn't in her mouth though, nor beating wildly out of her chest in fright. She couldn't even feel it at all anymore. She quickly slipped into the emergency lane and came to a slower, more dignified halt than she had moments before. Not even realising what she was doing, she turned off the car, pulled the keys out of the ignition and threw them into her handbag on the passenger seat next to her. She sat stock still for what felt like minutes, but was probably only seconds.
What had happened? She was concentrating on the road, but she knew she'd been going too fast and been too impatient. She tried to slow her breathing and her heart rate, but had little success. In a effort to pull herself together she placed a cold hand on her forehead, hoping it would make her feel better and with the other dug into her bag for the bag of jelly babies she had left half eaten in there the previous day. Maybe sugar would bring her back to life. She grabbed a handful and shoved them into her mouth, chewing unconsciously. Her heart began thumping in her chest again the longer she sat on the side of the road and despite the incredible urge she had to vomit, she started the car up again and slid slowly back into the traffic, barely managing half the speed she'd started out with that morning. In a daze she made it to the office, and walked dizzily to the entrance.
She'd done defensive driving and stunt work at the police academy all those years ago, and, according to her resume, had passed with flying colours. But nothing compared to the sheer fright a single moment when one has no control over what's about to happen to them can bring. Driving a car she realised, was as dangerous as wielding a gun. She knew she should be used to both with the job she had, but she freely admitted to herself in those moments she sat in the emergency lane that some days she wasn't everything she thought she was.
Her shoes clicked on the marble floor of the foyer of Homicide, a surprisingly stylish building in the heart of the city. But she didn't notice the sound of her shoes, or the people around her, still in shock from her very near miss not even an hour out of bed. She suddenly found herself in the elevator and she just stood there, waiting for the doors to close. Her left hand held her briefcase loosely and her handbag slipped one strap at a time off her shoulder as Matt ran in just as the doors began to close.
"Hi," he smiled, not noticing her unsteady breathing and shocked eyes. It was their usual greeting on a Monday morning, a day when they always seemed to arrive at the same time. She used to think that it was because he was as eager to begin a new week with the team in a job he enjoyed the way she did, but recently she'd been having her doubts that that was the reason. He smiled and reached across her to press the button for their floor. As the number lit up in a bright green glow, he settled back to standing beside her, his arms weighed down even more than hers with a heavy briefcase and numerous files.
Jennifer gave him a half hearted, not all there smile and continued to look dazedly ahead of her. Frowning at her lack of response in morning greeting, something he so looked forward to everyday (but would never tell her!) he gave her a soft nudge with his elbow. It was barely a graze, but it made her drop her briefcase and get her arm tangled up in her handbag straps as her knees buckled a little. Juggling his own belongings, he reached out to catch her arm and quickly had her upright again, the frown still on his face.
Are we getting closer?
Falling to your knees
"Are you ok?" he asked worriedly as colour finally returned to his colleagues face. She turned to him in appreciation and pulled her bag back onto her shoulder. The smile was wider this time and he felt relieved.
"Sorry, sorry," she apologised awkwardly, absentmindedly bending down to gather her half open briefcase off the floor of the lift. He bent down to help her and a moment later they returned to standing together, just as the doors opened again. "I'm ok," she smiled. "Just not quite…awake." Now she appeared flustered and Matt watched her mentally gather herself together. Something must be up, he thought, because it wasn't working. She stumbled out of the lift, almost dropping her briefcase again and making quite the entrance for her workmatres to have a chuckle at over their morning caffeine hits.
Matt followed Jennifer as she strutted briskly straight to the kitchenette across the office. She dumped her belongings on the bench and immediately opened the fridge and pulled out a half drunk bottle of Coke. Leaning on the fridge door, she held the bottle up to her forehead and closed her eyes.
Matt hovered by the bench. "Are you sure you're ok?" he asked again, concern in his voice this time, all the evidence before him that something certainly wasn't ok. Jennifer looked up and finally seemed to come to life and appear as the Jennifer he usually saw on Monday mornings.
She shook her head as she put the bottle back into the fridge. "Oh you know, I just nearly killed myself on the freeway just then," she revealed, frowning at the memories of the near miss that had rattled her so much. "I was so worried I was going to be late." She shook her head, trying to erase the fog and the memories. She turned around and leant on the bench and bowed her head, closing her eyes again, and as she did so Matt took the opportunity to sidle up beside her and make her a coffee. He picked up her hand and placed the steaming mug in it, wrapping her almost blue fingers around the handle.
Jennifer at last took a deep breath and managed a proper smile, and Matt smiled back at her encouragingly. She wrapped her other hand around the mug and walked back out into the office. As she reached the doorway she stopped and looked back over her shoulder, turning ever so slightly back to face her colleague. "Thanks Matt," she said quietly, her fine features, usually so serious, and this morning up until now so shocked, curving into the face he constantly worried he was falling in love with.