Alec stared at the packet of Mayfair and at the words printed in black at the bottom: Smoking Kills. His throat was dry, his palms sweaty. Unable to stay still, he took his Blackberry and started to pace up and down his small flat. Sure enough, he could manage this crisis by himself.
No, he couldn't.
Swearing, he typed the words quickly and sent them at once. "Can I call you?"
The answer was almost as quick. "Sure."
So he called her.
"What's up?"
She sounded a bit weird, but he could hardly distinguish her voice against the noisy background.
"What's this mess? Where are you?"
"In a pub. Scott got himself a promotion. Detective Inspector."
"Are you kidding?"
Scott Mitchell was, to put it mildly, an idiot. He had arrived at South Mercia CID about a year before Alec left it, and whenever he was in Alec's team, he'd had to keep an eye on the 30-something sergeant and double check whatever he did. Cocky and overconfident, he was unreliable and rather slow when it came to finding clues or following logic paths. He was, at best, an average officer. Alec couldn't believe he had been appointed DI. In lieu of Tess.
"Alec, why did you call?"
Right. He had a more urgent problem to deal with. "It's about Daisy. I found cigarettes in her school bag."
"Are you prying into her bags?"
"Yes," he muttered. "I'm just worried about her. I don't know what ... how ... Did you know that she smoked?"
"Let's say I had strong suspicions, but I never caught her with a fag so ... Only circumstantial evidence."
"Tess, this is serious. She's only fifteen."
There was a long silence. In the background someone cheered. "I know."
"How are we going to deal with it?" Alec was aware he was starting to sound like a petulant child, but couldn't help himself.
Her voice lowered of a further octave. "Have no idea."
"But Tess..."
"Give me a break, ok? We'll play Good Mum and Dad and have a talk with her. I'm sure they have a precompiled pamphlet online for teenagers about the risks of cigarette smoke. I'll print it and learn it by heart."
"Are you drunk?"
"Not yet, but I was working at it. I'm at a party, remember?"
"Great. Sorry for the bother, enjoy yourself." He hung up and tossed the phone on the sofa.
Shit, he was an asshole.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Sitting alone in a dark corner of a pub whose name she didn't even remember, Tess Henchard watched her male colleagues laughing and backslapping. Since the news of Scott's promotion had spread that morning, two or three of her oldest friends had approached her to voice their incredulity ("That place had your name on it," "I'm so sorry," "You must be angry"). Tess knew they meant well, but their empathy mixed with pity had only made her feel more awkward. What was she supposed to answer? Of course she was angry.
Tess knew that self-pity would lead her nowhere, knew that when life gives you lemons you better play it cool and make yourself a lemonade, but that night she was too tired to put on her mask of amused indifference and self-sufficiency. She emptied her glass and headed to the bathroom, wondering how long before she could leave the party without drawing eyes.
She was checking her hair (a frizzy disgrace), when Scott entered.
Revved and dishevelled, he beamed at her. "Hey, Henchard."
"Hey, Mitchell."
"Having a good time?"
"Sure." Smiling back, she headed toward the door.
"You look rad tonight."
Keeping her stiff smile, Tess patted his arm. "You don't look too shabby yourself."
Scott leaned against the door, openly sizing her up from head to toe. "What about a drink at my place after this shit's over?"
He sounded so ridiculous that Tess couldn't help chuckling. She hadn't meant to, but the mental image of Scott Mitchell rehearsing his cheap pickup lines in front of a mirror was too much. "You already had a couple of beers too much, Scott." She refrained from calling him Scotty at the very last moment.
The golden-boy seemed to have lost a notch of his brashness. "Well, maybe. But I've been fantasizing about this for a long time."
He was still blocking the exit with his body, so she hadn't any choice but to keep up that absurd conversation. "This?"
He nodded, still appraising her.
That was enough. Tess moved her arm toward the doorknob, but Scott grabbed her wrist. His breath reeked of alcohol.
More shocked than scared, she yanked herself free and stared at the young man. She had always considered him an harmless windbag, and such boldness was a disturbing surprise.
Mistaking her surprise for sexual tension, he sneered. "You like it a bit rough, don't you?"
Tess was no longer amused. She just wanted to go home, as far as possible from that place.
"You don't mind doing it in semi-public places either. If it wasn't for Dave, I would have never guessed you were a risk-seeker, Tess. But I'll tell you, I like that in a woman."
The meaning of what Scott had just said washed over her as a cold shower, but she drew upon all her will to block it out. Clenching her fists, Tess dug her nails into her palms till she felt a stab of pain she could focus on.
"This would be more than enough to fill a sexual harassment complaint, Scott, and even you know it. I'm not sure that would be the best way to start your career as a DI. But I'll give you the benefit of the doubt; you are drunk and not yourself tonight. Now please step away from the door."
Scott's smug grin didn't falter, but he moved a few steps away. "Oh, feel free to file your complaint, Sergeant. I wonder how seriously people would take it."
Clutching her bag, Tess hurried outside and didn't stop till she reached her car.
Her house was just ten minutes away, but halfway she had to stop and pull off at a gas station. Her hands were shaking so bad she was barely able to stay on her side of the road. Turning off the engine, she opened the door and retched outside. Luckily, at that hour of the night the place was deserted. Heaving, she tried to concentrate on the smell of wet grass coming from a dingy flowerbed.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Daisy had returned home at the appointed hour and was now hanging on the sofa, busy with her phone. Alec, resisting the urge to put the cigarette pack under her nose and set an interrogation, sat on the opposite side of the sofa, pretending to read a book. She had changed in a pink pyjamas with white stars, her hair gathered up in a loose bun. She almost looked like his little girl again. And yet, Alec thought, he should be happy to see her changing and turning into a young woman. He should be here to help her getting up after every fall, trusting her, allowing her to grow up and make mistakes. Like smoking, or being really angry at her mother. Was that the reason why Tess had decided to tell her about Dave? She deserves to know the truth, she had told him. Maybe she was right: his little girl had grown up and deserved to be treated accordingly.
"Dad, you're staring."
"Was I? Sorry darlin', I was just thinking."
"Oh no," she sneered without diverting her eyes from her smartphone. She was so her mother's daughter.
"How was your party?"
"That wasn't a party. We just ate pizza."
"Ok. So how was the pizza?"
"Awful." Daisy stopped to look at him. "I hate it when they top pizza with too much tomato and barely any cheese."
"Well, that might be a diet pizza though."
"Screw diet. I want my pizza greasy."
"Language, young lady!"
The girl sighed. "Sorry. What were you thinking about anyway?"
He wasn't expecting that question, so he had to improvise. "I heard from Mum this evening. She was pretty upset."
Daisy stiffened a bit, her eyes back to the screen. "Oh?"
"Apparently a new DI was appointed. Someone who didn't deserve that promotion."
"Who would that be?"
"A certain Scott Mitchell. I used to work with him when ..."
"You mean Scotty? I can't believe he got promoted; that place was Mum's!"
Alec was genuinely surprised. "You know Scott?"
"Well, not in person. Sometimes she tells me about her colleagues, and Scotty is our favourite character. If only half of her stories are true he's a patented idiot; no wonder she was pissed."
A vivid image of Daisy and Tess hanging at their kitchen table and laughing about Scott Mitchell formed in his mind. Tess had always been a natural storyteller; he remembered listening to her telling bedtime stories to wee Daisy, making weird voices, making Daisy giggle.
"Why don't you send her a text?" he suggested. "You'd make her day."
"Dad ... "
"Oh come on! It's Mum we're talking about!" There, he had just made the faux pas that would put an end to their conversation.
But Daisy surprised Alec by shouting louder than him. "Yes, and now I'm not sure I ever knew her! There was the mum that never missed one of my soccer match or ballet recital and then, on our way back home, sang with me in the car. And now there is the mum who had an affair with a colleague and screwed an important case and let you take the blame. I don't understand her, and I'm not sure I'll be able to trust her ever again. So what should I write her, dad?"
She wiped angry tears from her eyes with the back of her hand and Alec had to fight the urge to take her in his arms. Suddenly, the cigarettes drama seemed so far away.
"Taking the responsibility for the Sandbrook fiasco ... it was my choice. It all happened very quickly and I never asked Tess' opinion." God, talking about that with Daisy was torture.
"Well, she got the best out of the bargain."
"Did she? Darling, don't punish the people you love. It will never bring you any joy."
She stood, staring at him. "What about you? You still love her?"
That was going even beyond Alec's definition of torture. "Well, I will always love your mother ... "
Daisy shook her head, angry. "Are you in love with her? Am I a grown up now, right? Or I can be switched back to a little girl status whenever you two decide it's handy? Because Dad, I see things. I've seen an upset Mum deciding to drive all night to be with you after your surgery and staying down there with you for days. Then I've seen her coming back and telling me about how you and your buddy Ellie solved Sandbrook. Are you two dating, by the way?"
Alec was speechless. "Miller?"
"Yeah, Miller. Sweet, brilliant, loyal Miller. The lawyer during the trial accused her to have an affair with you, didn't she?"
"How ..."
"Twitter, dad. The Broadchurch Echo live tweeted the whole trial. And I followed it, cause I needed to know."
Alec buried his face in his hands.
"I really don't understand you two. I just wish I had two normal parents."
Retrieving her phone, Daisy went to her room.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Leaning against her car, Tess sat on the concrete and kicked her shoes off. High-heeled shoes, to appear taller. It was a clear, cold night. Looking at the patch of stars above her head, she thought of her empty house, waiting - hoping - for the tears to come. But tears didn't come.
Listening to cars passing by, she imagined the lives of their passengers; their struggles, their achievements. Nobody knew she was there, and the thought was both sad and oddly freeing. That empty gas station offered her the same kind of comfort of her childhood house attic, where she used to hide when her parents were yelling at each other. As she used to do then, she hugged her knees and rested her head against them.
She was brought back to reality by something buzzing inside her pocket. Her phone. She had drifted off. Trying to clear her mind, she picked the phone and looked at the screen: it was half past midnight, she had left the pub right before 11 pm. She had a missed call and a text from Alec.
Been trying to call you. Where are u? Daisy is back home from pizza. Didn't tell her about the cigarettes.
Dialling his number, Tess shivered. Hell, the temperature had dropped.
He picked up at the second ring. "I tried to call you."
"Yup, I saw. Phone was inside the bag, sorry. Everything ok with the scary teen? You did good avoiding the cigarettes topic for now. We'll think to a way to approach it ... if you want."
"I do. Where are you now?"
"At home."
He seemed to search for something to say. "Was it ... Did you have fun? I mean, despite Scott and all."
She bit her lip, trying to sound casual. "Yeah, I managed to avoid the new DI and have a nice time."
Long before becoming her husband, Alec had been Tess' best friend. The only person she had really trusted in her life, the only person to whom she could have told about that night's humiliation. But that was gone too now, together with all the rest.
From the other side of the line, she heard soft steps. He was going to bed. "That's nice. Good night, Tess."
"Good night, Alec."
Tess clutched the now dead phone for a few moments. Then she stood, put her shoes on, and got back into the car. She had an early shift the following morning.
- End of Chapter 2