A/N: This is the first thing I've written fic-wise in quite a while so I hope its okay, feel free to review.
Disclaimer: I don't own New Tricks or any of the characters.
A Friend of Ours
Day Seven
She arrived at the office deliberately early, so that way it would be at least half an hour before she had to deal with anyone. Standing in the middle of the silent room, she glanced around at its familiar features, which in some way seemed distorted by the events of seven days previously. Steve's earphones laying tangled and forgotten on the sofa, Dan's photograph of himself and Holly taking proud centre of stage on his desk. And then there was Gerry's desk. She should probably sort it out, but it still seemed too soon. She sighed, knowing that if she didn't do it now then someone else would. And she had to be the one to do it, she had to do this one last thing for him, she had to complete the cycle that she had started that day, all those years ago, by selecting him for the team. Somehow they had come full circle but he wasn't there to see it.
Day Six
It rained that day. Whether it was pathetic fallacy or just some kind of warped coincidence, she was unsure, but either way it simply didn't feel right. As they congregated in the church, the dull sound of the rain echoing around the cold space, she knew he wouldn't have wanted it to be this way. Paula crying silently so as not to alarm her son, Carole desperately trying to restrain her tears for her daughter's sake, Gerry Junior not quite understanding what was happening around him. More to the point, he didn't deserve this. It should be her in that coffin.
The gathering afterwards was better. The clouds remained ominously heavy, but glimmers of sunlight prevailed. She sat with Dan and Steve for a while, then found a quiet corner with Brian and Esther. It had been a few days since she had broken the news to them, and thankfully they had known better than to contact her, no matter how much they knew she needed them. Yet today, hours passed as they talked- today was about Gerry, and together their shared memories of him almost made it feel like he was there. Which no doubt he was, somewhere. If anyone would take some kind of perverse delight in reappearing as a ghost at their own funeral, it was Gerry Standing.
Day Five
Grief was something she preferred to experience alone. Still, she should have come here earlier, she told herself as she vacated the unusually morose Standing residence. She admired the strength, the unity, of the family he had left behind, as they had all gathered together in his home of happy memories. They had welcomed her kindly enough, offering her tea, smiling politely when all she could offer was her condolences, but it wasn't enough, not really. Who did she have now? Dan? Steve? There was Grace, of course, but she never had felt comfortable sharing her feelings with her mother. Or anyone else for that matter. Except him.
Blinking, she prised herself out of her internal monologue and reminded herself of her surroundings. She was on Gerry's driveway, standing beside his beloved Triumph Stag, the brisk autumn breeze whipping up strands of her hair and lashing them at her face. If that was nature's way of telling her to get a grip then she needed it. If it was nature's way of giving a slap then she deserved it. Unlocking her silver convertible, she opened the door and sat heavily in the driving seat. Where now? She wasn't sure she could take much longer at home.
Although, it was the funeral tomorrow and she had promised both herself and Strickland she would return to work the following day. Maybe one more day of this wouldn't hurt. Turning the key in the ignition, she pulled away and tried her utmost to focus on the quiet roads ahead of her, but all she found was thoughts of him.
Day Four
It was Monday, she suddenly realised as she awoke from her troubled sleep to a quiet tap on her front door. Climbing out of bed and combing back her tousled hair with not even half the embarrassment she usually would, if she had been awoken by her colleagues in any other situation, she made her way downstairs, eyeing the slim shadow of Dan through the panes of glass in her front door. Leaning into the living room to grab her discarded dressing gown from the back of the sofa, she put it on and opened the door.
"Hi," he began hesitantly.
"Hi. Listen, you and Steve can take the day off today, it's fine-"
"No," he replied calmly. "Steve is already at the office, looking through our potential cases, and, well. I've come to see if you want to go for a coffee."
"Coffee?"
"I thought you might want to get out of the house for a while."
She nodded, surprised at his precise estimation of her mood, despite having only known him for a few weeks. Although, she'd known from the second she had met him that he was the type to quietly observe those around him, much like Brian. Oh, Brian. She would have to tell him. How could she have forgotten?
"Erm, yeah. Coffee. Sounds good. Come in," she stood back to let him pass, the cool autumnal air filtering in from outside.
"I called Brian, by the way. To let him know. He said he and Esther would come to the funeral, of course."
She sighed, half in disbelief at his apparent ability to read her mind and half in quiet gratitude.
"Thank you, that means a lot," she smiled half heartedly, gesturing into the living room. "Sit down, I won't be long."
An hour later and they were sat at a window table in a small cafe close to her house, watching the traffic go by. They had been in silence for a while, but it wasn't uncomfortable, in fact it was companionable, a welcome change from the almost ominous quiet of her house.
"Tell me about you and Gerry,"
"What?" She answered more sharply than she had intended, caught off guard by his sudden question. She had assumed the point of this was to take her mind off Gerry.
"You've known him for a long time, you must have some good memories of him."
She nodded slowly, staring into her coffee as she let the series of sounds and sights from the past ten years that had been constantly in her thoughts completely take over, losing herself in the memories.
"Yes. Yes, I do.
Day Three
The previous day had been spent entirely at home, desperately trying to recreate the energy she had somehow found on the day he has gone. She'd cleaned the house from top to bottom, sorted out her wardrobe and kitchen cupboards and bookshelf, but nothing seemed to take her mind off him. Or more specifically, it. The moment he had been hit by the car, that stupid bloody car that had taken away a father, a grandfather, her best friend. So today she had just given up. Allowed herself to wallow in the shock and grief and injustice of it. Just for a day. And then she would emerge, as strong as ever. Only she didn't know whether she would ever be quite the same.
Day Two
For the first time in a long while, she had absolutely no idea what to do. She didn't know what to think, what to feel. Yesterday she had done all the duties expected of her as Gerry's boss, and his friend. She had called the ambulance, called everyone, accompanied him to the hospital, held his daughters as they had cried, gone with Steve to pick Gerry Junior up from school and take him back to the office for a while. She must have been on autopilot until the moment she arrived back home and fell asleep on the sofa. And now she was awake, and the effect had worn off.
Day One
"So," he opened as they got into her silver convertible, their latest conversation with the victim's sister having been deemed a waste of time. "I was thinking maybe if I got the Xbox and kept it at mine so it's like a special treat after football, what do you think?"
"Yeah, if Paula doesn't want him playing on it too much, which is understandable, then it sounds like a good idea," she replied casually, pulling out onto the road and joining the steady flow of traffic. Gerry and Paula had been debating the pros and cons of getting Gerry Junior an Xbox for his birthday for what felt like weeks to her, owing to the amount of time he'd spent discussing it recently.
"Hmm, I might nip into the shop and get it after work then. Talking of shops, can you stop at this newsagents at the end of the street, I need some fags," he asked, reaching into his pocket to check how many he had left.
"Can't you wait until after work?"
"Nah, I've only got two left, and it's only eleven."
She sighed reluctantly, parking opposite the small shop. "Fine, just hurry up, I want to get back to the office, I'm gagging for a cup of coffee."
"Ah, addiction," he smirked as he got out of the car. "Gets to us all."
Rolling her eyes, she watched him walk away before reaching for her black leather handbag, taking out her phone to check her emails. She was idly scrolling through the seemingly never ending list of spam emails she had received when she heard the sickening thud, the squeal of brakes, saw the packet of cigarettes soaring through the air in her wing mirror and the body of her best friend sprawled on the road.
