Worried About Ray
The beige phone at Sam's desk rang. And rang. And rang. Sam glanced around the station to check if anyone else had heard it. Nobody raised their heads. Either they hadn't heard it or hadn't cared. Ray sat at his desk, staring in Sam's direction, chewing as usual, then winked at him, and walked off. Sam paced over to his desk and raised the receiver to his ear.
"DI Tyler," Sam said assertively.
"Sam, it's alright. Your conditions have stabilised," a familiar echoing male voice muttered down the line. Sam's eyes widened. Lowering his head so that everyone else in the office didn't hear, he began to panic.
"Who are you? Why are you ringing me? How can you be ringing me?"
"Sam, it's Morgan. It's OK, you're getting better."
"Don't do this to me, please, don't keep haunting me like this," Sam's breaths became sharper and more frequent with stress.
"Don't panic, don't do anything which might bring you out of your comatose state, that would worsen things. I know you can hear me, just hang in there." Sam burst into tears.
"Please, just leave me alone!" Sam shrieked, awaiting the reply with fear. But the line fell silent. Deathly silent. Not even an end call tone. Sam's eyes followed the telephone cable to find Gene stood beside the broken wire, waving a pair of scissors in the air, smirking.
"Wh… wh… what'd you do that for?" Sam questioned, not angrily, yet not happily either, as he had just severed the one connection to his future life.
"You told 'em to leave you alone. They didn't. So I made 'em," Gene pulled up two chairs and sat them facing each other, then gestured to Sam to sit with him.
"That Hyde lot of yours, weren't it?" Sam nodded in reply, Gene moved into close proximity to Sam's ear, just in case anybody was listening, "well they can't have you back."
"You what?" Sam couldn't quite believe what Gene had said. Perhaps he'd taken it the wrong way, caught the wrong end of the stick. He had to have. Gene never cared that much.
"You're a bloody good copper, Sam, and they can't take that away from me now."
"You don't mean that, Guv."
"I do. Sam, you're a good bloke. All your Hyde-talk and your by-the-book methods, they may not agree with me, but half the time they get the job done. And I'm grateful," Gene stared Sam square in the eye. He cracked a smile for a split second. Something Sam rarely caught sight of.
The next day…
The station was considerably quieter than normal. There was Sam, sat on his desk pondering, Gene chatting with Chris, Ray kicked back at his desk chewing the cud, and Annie, sorting through case files on a criminal released for indecent exposure. But Sam's mind was in a different place. On a different planet. He couldn't stop thinking about what his Guv had said about him. He never felt accepted in 1973, and what Gene mentioned made him feel like he belonged there for once. He had waited a whole year for the purpose he needed to stay in 1973, and now he'd found it.
The beige phone at Sam's desk rang again. He checked the wire and it was still severed, as Gene had left it. But it rang. And rang. Sam once again scanned the room for signs of anyone's recognition of the phone ringing, but no-one was looking in his direction. Except Ray. He was staring into Sam's eyes from a distance, arms folded and chewing as before, and then raised his eyebrows. Sam avoided his glare by looking down at the phone, confused as to how it was ringing, yet picked it up regardless and answered.
"DI Tyler," Sam said, his arm beginning to shake while grasping the receiver.
"Systems failing. We're gonna have a power cut," the usual male voice from the hospital said.
"But it can't, it can't turn off his life support, that's my baby boy!" Sam's mother's voice replied.
"We can't help it, these things happen for a reason, Mrs Tyler," the male stated.
"Sammy, can you hear me? Sammy, it's going to be alright, just hang in there, please, Sammy, I love you," his mum shouted.
"Mum!" Sam whispered down the phone, he could feel Ray's eyes watching him through the back of his head. Suddenly, the line fizzed and another voice sounded.
"All your Hyde-talk and your by-the-book methods, they may not agree with me, but half the time they get the job done," a different yet familiar voice was mimicking what Gene had said earlier.
"Who is this?"
"Right old Guv's pet, ain't ya?" Sam finally recognised the voice. It was Ray's. He dropped the receiver, letting it hang off the side of the table, turned sharply to find Ray but he was no longer there.
"Where's Ray?" Sam snapped at Chris who was sat nearby.
"He's right there, boss." The constant beep of the defibrillator assaulted Sam's hearing.
"No he isn't, he was just on the phone," Sam started shaking frantically and uncontrollably, storming over to Ray's desk.
"Boss, he's at his desk now, right in front of you, boss."
"He can't be. I… I… I can't see him." Sam blinked hard and forcefully, the hospital noises invading his mind, blocking out the sounds of the station. He clapped his hands around his ears, breathing sharply and squinting, but could not see Ray, no matter how hard he tried.
All of a sudden, the hospital voices disappeared, along with the metallic beeping of the machines. Ray was now at his desk, motioning his hand back and forth to Chris and still chewing.
"Where'd you go? What were you doing on the phone?" Sam pointed over at the phone.
"I'm here boss, have been for the past half hour. And that phone's broke, boss, you saw the Guv cut the wire," Ray replied in his usual sarcastic tone as his jaw grinded.
Ignoring this, Sam stormed over to the phone again and picked up the hanging receiver to his ear, hearing the end call tone. He slammed the phone down and shot a stern look back at Ray, who winked back.
The next day…
Sirens and screeching brakes marked the start of another adrenaline-rush car chase.
"Hold onto your handbags, ladies!" Gene shouted. Sam grabbed hold of the Cortina's dashboard as Gene swung the car viciously around a bend. They were chasing a dark red Ford Zephyr, stolen by a gang of Liverpool yobs who came up to Manchester plainly to cause trouble. The radio was blaring Sweet's 'Blockbuster' and Chris was sat in the back seat mumbling the lyrics. On the chorus, Gene had joined in, closely followed by Sam who couldn't help but laugh, the last time he'd heard that song was when his Mum and Dad were dancing around the living room to it on his fourth birthday. Just when he was getting into the song, an announcement began on the radio:
"And that was Sweet with Blockbuster, an old favourite for all you glam-rockers at heart. Now, for The Hoosiers with Worried About Ray," the female's voice said.
Truth be told, the truth be told, I'm worried what the future holds, the future holds. I'm starting to worry about Ray.
"Hold on, that's Worried About Ray," Sam stated. At that moment, the song reverted back to Blockbuster.
"Not surprised, not like you not singin' along, Ray!" Gene shouted back to Ray, who was sat perfectly straight, staring into the rear-view mirror, expressionless.
Sam looked in the mirror and glared into Ray's dazed eyes, and one of them winked back at him.
Chris was hanging his head out of the car window and banged it when Gene slammed the brakes down. The Zephyr's battery had blown and they were continuing the chase on foot. Gene hopped out, and broke out into a sprint after the nonces. Sam turned around to face Ray and Chris.
"You coming then?"
"Sorry boss, you go ahead, I'll catch you up in a bit," Chris said, moaning and rubbing his head in pain.
"What about you, Ray?"
"What, boss?" Ray appeared dazed and confused. Then: "Oh, right, yeah, sure boss," and with that slowly heaved himself out of the car along with Sam.
As they caught up with the criminals, Sam sprinted as fast as possible, speeding ahead of the others and tackled one down to the ground, Gene headbutted another and Ray stood, frozen, aiming his hand gun at the squirming man in Sam's grasp, his hands shaking nervously.
"Ray, don't be stupid, it's too risky, you hit my DI and I'll throttle you within an inch of your life, you got that?" Gene spat at Ray, carelessly ignoring the other two criminals escaping.
Ray ignored, his eyes blurring over, darting in different directions, not quite knowing what to do. His hand, quivering furiously, clenching the trigger and pulled. Bang.