Part 2) Questions
It was a long and silent car ride back to the station. Carwyn was angry then but our history dictated he was going to lighten up eventually, he always did. There were more important things to think about than when my partner was going to forgive me for running off. I walked through the too familiar police station and smiled at my coworkers, greeted my friends, and tried not to let them know what I was going on inside my head. I started up the stairs to Deputy Chief Andy Davidson's office. There was a reason why I decided to become a cop. My mother had been one too. She'd worked for years in this very department with Andy Davidson. He'd come to my birthday every year until I was old enough to think birthday parties were childish. He sent a card every Christmas and visited my Dad when he could. Most importantly he came to Mum's funeral.
I stopped outside his door and took a deep breath before knocking.
"Come in," he called from the desk. I pushed open the door and stepped inside. Why did I feel like a kid about to be scolded for peaking at the Christmas presents? Andy was old. There is no other way to describe him now, he'd been balding for as long as I can remember and now when I look at him behind the desk it's hard to imagine he'd ever stood in my shoes. Hard to think he'd ever chased down a suspect or stood in the rain waiting for a crime scene to be processed. He looked up at me and smiled making the skin around his eyes crinkle. He set aside some files and folded his hands in front of himself.
"It's good to see you, sir. May I ask what this is about?"
"Please Anwen, have a seat, I just wanted to invite you up here for a little chat is all," he said getting up and rustling about in the drawers of his desk. He pulled out a bottle of scotch and a pair of glasses.
"Sir, is that appropriate?" I asked feeling startled. Andy Davidson was a man who obeyed the rules. The idea he'd be storing alcohol at work was so ridiculous she was certain she was seeing things.
"It is for what we have to chat about. Would you like a glass?" he asked after pouring himself a shot.
"No thank you, sir," I answered. He downed his shot in one swing then immediately began pouring a second.
"So I hear you were at the Hanley house today," he phrased it like a question but he knew the answer. I simply nodded. "Did you see anything strange there?"
I opened my mouth to lie the shut it quickly. Andy had been my mother's friend for years. He knew her almost as well as my dad did. There was no point in lying. I'd spent the whole ride back to the station mulling over what I'd seen and there was a name for what I'd seen. A name half forgotten from a story told a long time ago. A name I suppose I wasn't meant to remember at all.
"I saw a weevil. That man Hanley he was murdered by a weevil," I answered watching Davidson's expression. He pursed his lips and then drank another shot.
"Who told you it was a weevil?"
"No one. I guessed it."
"Did your mother tell you about weevils?"
"No, sir. I mean, not on purpose. I think I might have heard her talking about them with my dad. Ages ago now," I stuttered. "Sir, what is Torchwood?"
He sat there quietly for a long while as if unsure of what to say or how much. He let out a sigh, "Torchwood is a special operations unit that works outside of the government. Way back in 2006 your Mum was offered a job there and she took it. I don't know any more than that and even that is more than most folks are supposed to know."
"That can't be all you know and by what rights do they steal cases from the police department. If they don't work for the government then who do they work for?"
"I told you I don't know, Anwen. Please I did not ask you up here to talk to you about Torchwood or the past."
"Then why call me up here and talk about it?"
He stood up, walked around the desk and held my hands. The look on his face aged him and it zapped the questions from my throat. It was an old, tired, worried expression.
"Don't go looking for them, Anwen. That is all we ask of you, me, your parents, this department. Torchwood is dangerous. You're mother died while working there and they would never say how or why. Don't go looking for Torchwood, Anwen."
Don't go looking for Torchwood. They say it like Torchwood is a synonym for trouble. Or danger. Andy was giving me the rest of my shift off so I swung by my apartment and picked up the macaroons my roommate made then started for St. Winifred's Nursing home. The day I had to commit Dad was one of the worst days of my life second only to Mum's death. He suffers from Alzheimer's and when I told him he was going to be living in a home he started to cry and beg. He thought that it was Miracle Day. I was only a baby at the time but my parents had lived through that nightmare. Mum had lost friends and my granddad. I read about Miracle Day in school like it was distant history but when I was driving Dad to the hospital he thought I was taking him to the ovens.
I parked my car in the usual spot. I liked to park as far from the building as the parking lot would allow. I know it might seem weird but I enjoy the walking, it's time for thinking. Dad has to be here, I need my job or I'll never be able to afford a place to stay or food but Dad needs around the clock care. We held on as long as we could but the day our neighbors called 911 because he was having a fit there was nothing left to do.
The nursing home was lovely on the outside with its healthy green lawns, sprawling gardens, and pristine white walls. It was the best nursing home in Cardiff. I approached the front desk with the macaroons under my arm and smiled at the nurse at the reception. Pod was a regular and he recognized me immediately. Friendly bloke always flirts a little. However, today I wasn't feeling up for a chat.
"How's my Dad doing?" I asked.
"He's actually having a good day it's great that you're coming to see him. Don't you usually wait for the weekend though?"
"Yeah but I got off early today so I thought I'd drop off some snacks," I said holding up the tin of macaroons.
"Don't mind if I do," said Pod taking two. While walking to Dad's room he complimented my cooking and tried at small talk. Mostly about football and whether I had any exciting cop stories for him.
Sorry, Pod but not today.
I knocked on his apartment door before opening it. It was a bit snug compared to my apartment. Dining area and living room were all one thing with a kitchen (not that Dad ever uses it) separated by some counters. Dad was on the couch watching the TV but he looked up when I came in and smiled.
"Anwen, I wasn't expecting you," he said cheerily getting to his feet. Unlike Andy Davidson my dad still had all his hair it'd just gone grey. I put the macaroons on the counter and gave him a hug. My stomach hurt at the thought of the questions I needed to ask him.
"I know but some things happened at work and Andy gave me the rest of the day off."
"You didn't kill anybody did you?" he asked smiling at his joke but when he looked at my face a bit longer his smile fell away. "What happened sweet heart?"
"Torchwood happened," I answered. Dad frowned and looked away his face wrinkling with anger. "Today at work I was called to a disturbance and when I got there, there was this thing, I think it's called a weevil and it killed a man…"
"Bloody fucking Torchwood wasn't bad enough they take your Mum now they're meddling in your life too," he barked throwing the remote.
"Dad please I'm sorry to bring it up but I need to ask you some questions. What exactly is Torchwood?"
"Trouble! That's all Torchwood is. It is trouble and that Harkness. Bastard Jack Harkness. He's the king of trouble that one."
"Who is Jack Harkness, Dad? You've mentioned him before. Please don't be angry I just want to know who these people are," I begged feeling tears in my eyes. I'd rather be back at Hanley's chasing the weevil or at an armed robbery anything but here with my Dad causing him pain.
"Don't go anywhere near him, Anwen. Or he'll kill you too just like my Gwen and all the others. Everyone dies around him. Anwen, please don't be like your Mum just do as I tell you and stay away from Torchwood and Captain Jack Harkness!"
Pod and another nurse came into the room one was holding a needle. I cried and begged them to leave him but they said it wasn't good for his health to get too "excited". Dad kicked and threw his arms about still screaming and then he quieted as the drugs entered his bloodstream. When I left Dad was unconscious in his bed with a nurse hovering. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I ran to my car, slammed the door shut and a sob ripped from my chest. I knew this would happen but no. No, I had to go and ask anyway. He'd been having a good day but the mention of Torchwood sent him spiraling just like every time before.
I was beginning to fear "bloody Torchwood," would be the last thing I'd hear my Dad say.
