Reflections

"Sometimes, when I'm alone, like I am now, I wonder why. Why me? Plenty of other coppers die, so why is it me who has to stay behind to help them along.

I wanted to go through the door with Alex. I wished and wished that I could, but I never can. Unless there is someone who is willing take my place. And how many dead coppers do you find that are willing to spend eternity in a run – down police station in 19 bloody 83? Not many, I can tell you that.

But the thing I regret the most is that I never told her. How I felt about her. I never told Alex Drake that I loved her. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with that one woman, but she remembered, and then she had to go. She had to bloody well leave.

And the hardest part is knowing that I'll never visit her in that flat, or carry her up there when she too pissed to walk up there herself. Never again will I see her beautiful face, or get shivers when our hands accidentally meet.

I keep thinking about that night. The night when we danced and nearly kissed. I wanted it to happen so badly, I'd been waiting for that moment for ages. And then Keats showed up and ruined it, the big bastard.

Well, I'd best stop there, I'm starting to sound like Nancy – boy. God, he had to go too. I wonder if she's met him yet… Anyway, best stop, Tom (the new DI) is rambling on about something or other and I've got to go and knock his bloody block off."

At that moment, DCI Gene Hunt pressed the "stop" button on his voice recorder, placed it the bottom draw of his desk, and went into the CID room to give that ponce a piece of his mind.

End.

Please R&R