Peggy sighed as she trailed behind her aunt as they entered the Ballarat Police Station. She and her little brother, Marcus, had been living with their aunt, uncle and two cousins since their father had been imprisoned a few months ago. Her whole family had been remarkably understanding, despite the fact that she knew full well that it was her fault the publican had killed Bobby Lee. Since both of her cousins were boys, Auntie Bella insisted that she was glad to have Peggy join the household, another woman in an otherwise entirely male environment.
The girl was feeling rather put out with her at the moment, though, despite that. She had dragged her down to the police station to report the theft of a bangle and a book that had gone missing at school. Neither object was worthless, but they were certainly replaceable. They had notified the school last week, and apparently her aunt didn't feel they were doing enough to recover the items and apprehend the thief – there had been several other petty thefts over the past six months – and she was going to be the one to take it seriously, it seemed.
Bella strode into the building, marching up to the desk to report the crime, her neatly ironed skirt moving like a metronome as the somewhat rotund woman walked. The tidy, innocuous station was dredging up emotions and memories she'd rather not face. She stood close behind the taller woman, effectively hiding from the cop manning the desk.
"What can I do for you, ma'am?" a polite voice asked. A voice Peggy was fairly certain she recognised. No doubt this was one of the policemen she had come into contact with when her father had been sent away.
"A book and some jewellery was stolen from my niece down at the high school. It is the latest in a barrage of crimes, and the school's been unable to stop them. I thought it was time someone told the law enforcement about this," Auntie Bella said seriously.
The policeman hummed in agreement and shuffled some papers for a moment before speaking again. "I'll need to get a statement from your niece, then I'll get into contact with the school and talk to the other victims," he informed them. "Is that her there?"
Peggy edged sideways, peeking at the young man behind the counter. Her aunt clearly was in no mood to tolerate shyness, stepping briskly to the side and nudging the girl forward. Peggy froze, recognising the man instantly. He was the one who had arrested her dad. He wasn't unkind, he never seemed too rough, unlike some of the glimpses she had caught of policemen in action when the pub had gotten too rowdy, or one time when a fugitive had been chased up the main street. She had given him a lemonade before that, she recalled. He had given her an open smile, his blue eyes catching the light as he had thanked her, more attentive than any other patron was whenever she helped at the bar. While he chatted to Dad she had watched him, quietly admiring the way he moved his large hands and the movement of his jaw when he spoke.
He was giving her that look again now, wide-eyed and slightly smiling, like he was trying to encourage her into speaking. "I'm Sergeant Davis. You're Peggy Bowen, I remember you. Now, how about you describe the things that went missing?" he prodded gently.
Her voice was quiet throughout the conversation, in contrast to the deeper, stronger voice of the man posing questions pertaining to the relevant wheres, whos, whys and whens. She mostly stared up at him, at least a foot taller than her. When he declared he had enough information, he promised to follow up with the school and keep them up to date with any developments on the case, and the girl felt oddly disappointed. His focus was no longer solely on her, but divided between the two of them. He showed them out the door, waiting for them to start toward the exit before striding down the corridor to the office, clipboard in hand. Peggy admired him as he went, confident step, broad shoulders and slim waist. In that moment she regretted the whole incident regarding Bobby Lee, but this time for a very different reason. It seemed terribly foolish to fawn over a musician she had never met when there were policemen around, young and even more handsome. Plus, Bobby Lee had never worn a uniform like that as far as she knew; shiny buttons, crisp lines, formal and striking.
"Come on Peggy," Auntie Bella said gently, no doubt aware that this visit would dredge up memories for the now seventeen-year-old. Unfortunately, that wasn't all that was being brought to the surface. If her last infatuation was anything to go by, a mess was sure to follow.