Consequences
Thomas Lynley could not forget that night, the one night he had spent with his sergeant, his dear friend. Barbara. He had found himself at her door, having been unable to face another woman, the efforts of flirtation, seduction. He knew that Barbara would let him into her home, give him a drink, the comfort of her understanding. They had talked, he and Barbara, in a way they'd never done before, they came close to acknowledging what they felt for one another, and then he had kissed her.
'Sir," she'd said, her fingers touching her lips, as though to keep the feeling of the kiss. "You're married."
"Am I?" he'd said, "I'm not sure for how much longer. I think Helen is going to ask for a divorce. And you know what? I'm not sure I care. I'm not sure I love her, not sure I ever loved her, not the way…" He hadn't finished his sentence, but that kiss had led them to her bed, and left him with a thought that it was perhaps this woman that he loved, that he might be ready to accept a divorce if it meant that he could be with Barbara.
And it was the very next day that Helen had reappeared, and far from asking for a divorce, she clearly wanted to work at their marriage. He felt that he had no choice; he had to go along with her. So instead of telling Barbara that he was in love with her, he was a coward, never telling her anything, letting her find out for herself that he and Helen were together again, allowing her to feel used and tossed aside. He agonized over the whole appalling situation, feeling trapped and miserable. He was not surprised, a few months later, to learn that Barbara had asked for a transfer, had secured an appointment as a DS in Kent, He had grieved enough during those months when they'd continued to work together, but in a cool, detached way, even when she had defended him to a tribunal. He thought that she had been the stronger, wiser one, finding a way to resolve the mess they were in. He'd written her a rave review, trying to tell her how much he valued her. Treasured her.
He watched her packing up her desk, discarding some papers, saving others. As she passed into a ray of sunshine that outlined her body, he was startled.
"Barbara, will you come into my office please? Now?" She came in and he quietly closed the door behind her.
"Barbara," he said, his voice catching in his throat.
"Sir?"
"Barbara….I think you're…..Are you pregnant?"
She looked down at the almost unobtrusive bump. "Yeah," she said.
"It's mine, isn't it?" he asked, very sure there hadn't been another man in her life, in her bed.
"No," she said firmly. "It's mine."