Over her final few days in hospital Robin had sunk into an oppressively dark mood. Strike knew this was probably down to the amount of morphine she had been forced to take over the last few weeks. She drifted from speaking in just a few monosyllables to silence and back again. Then from the dark clouds of her mood came flashes of a growing anger with herself, Strike, her parents, the doctors.
Michael returned to take her and Linda back to the family home. Robin had point-blank refused to leave the hospital in a wheelchair. So, his arm had supported her around her waist as she had very slowly escaped the hospital.
At the car, Strike refused the comfort of the front seat and folded himself behind the passenger seat prepared for a cramped journey so that he could stay as near to Robin for as long as possible. She had watched the wet London streets blur away until they had hit motorway. Robin unclipped the seat belt and lay on her side, shoeless feet up on the seat, propping her head on Strike's lap. Strike traced the overly thin limbs of her body with his palm. Eventually, she pulled his arm around her shoulders and held his hand to her cheek. If she hadn't forgiven her at least still loved him. She slept the rest of the way which made him feel less guilty.
That night had been the first time they had slept in the same bed in over a month. Robin had tucked herself into his arms, her face nuzzled into the beard on his neck, her too thin legs tangled with his. They had both indulged in the littlest of intimacies that they had missed. The sound of his heartbeat under her ear. The smoothness of the soft plane of her back under her nightshirt. She stroked fingertips through the hair on his chest and pressed her lips against the base of his throat. He nuzzled the space behind her ear and massaged the arch of her foot. Noses touching, blue and green eyes locked together, they savoured the moments they had left together before he went back to London the next morning.
All too soon it arrived and her tearful but indignant expression, as she lay under the blanket in the living room, made him feel his own stab of guilt as he walked away. But, he just couldn't give her and the business the attention they needed. They had both agreed he was protecting their future but acceptance of this was a hard stage to find.
Days later, Strike was just about to pick up his mobile where it lay on the little table to call Robin when there was an uncertain knock on the flat door. Friends and family rarely visited or even met him at the flat apart from Robin, so Strike opened the door cautiously. Al stood in the hallway and smiled relieved when he saw that, yes, his brother lived here.
"Bruv, good to see you," Al clapped in on the arm as he stepped into the attic space, "Just wondered if you wanted to go for a drink?"
"Oh…yeah!" Al had purposely caught Strike out, he could have hardly had said no when l could see the empty flat and noise of the TV made it clear Strike was in for the night. A phone call and Strike could have said he was out on a job. As he pulled his coat on he caught Al casting an assessing gaze around the attic flat with a serious intensity. When his eyes went back to Strike again he saw a look of admiration in his younger half-brother and Al gave him his usual congenial grin, "Shall we get going then?"
Thirty minutes later they had both finished their first drinks in The Tottenham and were on to their second. Strike with his usual Doom bar and Al with a bottled beer. Strike was trying to relax after remembering that he still hadn't called or texted Robin.
Al also seemed on edge when he said, "So, Vanessa told me Robin's gone back up to - "
"Yorkshire?" Strike finished for him, "So was that a professional conversation or…"
"Definitely 'or'," Al looked sheepish, "I really like her,"
This sounded more like an admission to himself rather than trying to convince Strike who smirked and nodded, "Well don't mess it up, I'm thinking of asking her if she wants a job, doubt she'll take it as I can't match a police salary."
Al's eyebrow lifted and for once Strike noticed a resemblance in their shared mannerisms.
"You're extending the business?"
"Thinking about it – too much work now for just me and Robin – one of the offices has come up for rent in the building, so I'm thinking of taking on the lease."
Al smiled broadly, no doubt taking some of the credit for his brother's success as he given the offer of their father's loan in the first place, "What will you do to finance it?" Al's voice had a hint of excitement. His insight into Strike's living conditions was clearly evidence Strike was not in the financial position to fund expansion himself.
"Go to the banks," Strike was brusque, wishing he'd never brought the subject up.
Soon Strike found himself back in Masham. His thirty-seventh birthday had passed mid-week and he was relieved not to be in London, he didn't have to make excuses to family and friends. At the house, Strike could tell Robin's laughter and smiles were forced and if she thought no one was looking the shadows appeared and her moon-pale face lost its aura, her expression sad and pained. He knew she missed her job and London but her sense of desperation seemed out of place compared to when they had been in Masham in October.
They had walked to the King's Head and Robin pointed out the constellations that could be viewed in the dark sky which were usually hidden by the immense glow of Central London. He put his arm around her waist and as she tucked her head against his shoulder she gave him a small smile. Probably the first genuine one of the day, he thought.
Strike's dessert of treacle pudding and butterscotch sauce was put in front of him, Robin did not have the appetite for one yet.
"Wait!" she said and felt about in the pockets of her coat on the chair. From a hand came a candle which she stuck in the top of it when she looked up at the expression on his face it had been the first time he had heard her ringing laugh again, "Light it then!" Robin rolled her eyes, exasperated
His eyes carried their usual look of disdain as he lit the candle, but there was a smile underneath, " Cheers, Robin," he said without a hint of genuine pleasure which made her laugh again.
"Don't forget to make a wish,
And he blew out the candle, quickly removing it from the pudding so he could start to eat.
"What did you wish for?"
"Can't tell you, won't come true,"
She nodded, smiling at him.
"You know I wanted you to stay with me in London don't you?"
Again, she nodded but her eyes dipped away from his. He held his hand out to her over the table. She took it and sighed, she seemed to be struggling with her thoughts.
"What's going on?"
"I'm not upset with you for leaving me here – anymore…"
They exchanged smiles. Robin breathed in deeply, "It's being in that room again,"
Strike eyes narrowed confused.
"Do you remember I told you I couldn't leave my room after…the rape," she had forced those two words out not letting them defeat her, "well, it was for months - I didn't leave the house in a year. After Laing when I came back I started to have nightmares again and the old feelings came back. I didn't tell Matthew," Strike tilted his head, unsurprised, "Or mum – I didn't want them using it to discourage me,"
"You didn't tell me either,"
"You say that now but at the time what would you have done if I did?"
His features shrunk and he looked away.
"I feel like I'm trapped in that feeling again, that they'll always be someone to make me feel powerless – like nothing,"
The weight that compressed Strike's chest forced the air out of him, "You didn't say anything in the hospital when we talked about you coming here,"
"I knew you felt terrible enough already - "
"No, Robin, never spare me my feelings for the sake of your own, okay?" he squeezed her hand knowing what would get her to properly talk about how she felt, "It's the same for me and hospitals, can't stand them - I should have realised Robin."
"Don't be silly – last time we were here I was fine – how could you know?"
"No…I was talking about after Laing attacked you – I should have listened to what you wanted, not thought I knew best,"
That night he and Michael moved her things into Stephen's old room. And later, when she slept with her head on his chest he carefully reached over to the bedside table so as not to disturb her. He picked up his mobile and texted Al. He hoped it wouldn't regret it later.
Strike pushed himself off of the wall and turned to look back at St Mawes. By now the multi-coloured lights around the harbour had flickered on. They weren't the only ones, they twinkled from almost every house. The sea sparkled with light reflected from the village and the now bright moon. He had no choice but to change his plans to spend Christmas with Robin and her family because crises came in pairs. An appointment with her GP had turned into a cancer scare for his Aunt Joan. They were all on tenterhooks awaiting the results till after Christmas, so Lucy had demanded they all spend this Christmas together. He had not needed forcing but unfortunately, it was too late notice for Robin to change her plans too.
His slipped his mobile out of his pocket and dialled Robin's number.
"Hello," her voice sounded warm and pleased.
"Can't believe you're not here to get me through this," he grumbled.
"Greg that bad already?"
"Why do you doubt me, he's bought a bloody kayak – tell me where he's going to do that when he's back in Bromley?"
"Hmm," she giggled and he smiled at the sound of it.
"Where are you now?" Robin asked
"There's a castle down the road from where my Aunt and Uncle live and you can look out across the River Fal to Falmouth,"
"Good view?"
"Pretty good – I know what I'd rather be looking at right now," he murmured into the phone. He hadn't seen her for a month, even though he had sorted out the immediate issues of her absence from work, things had become chaotic again which had been another reason why he didn't have the patience for his extended family.
"Are you going to be able to wrap your presents without me?"
"I asked the shop assistants to do it,"
"You're very resourceful!"
"Why do you sound breathless – are you okay?" His voice became concerned.
"It fine – I'm just out for a short walk,"
"And here's me thinking it was the sound of my voice,"
But as he waited for her to rebuke him, he realised the call had gone dead. Bloody reception is rubbish down here, he thought as he tried to get his mobile to call her back.
Suddenly he felt the sudden jab of two hands at his waist and jumped. His mind seemed to slow down from the shock, had Jack come down the hill to find him?
And then he heard it and spun around.
"Robin?" her cheeks were tinged pink by the cold and her full lips curved into a smile.
He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her, "How did you get here?
"I managed to get a ticket all along, I just wanted to surprise - "
But he'd already pulled her closer, his hand tangled in the hair at her nape. Robin clasped his face and she leant towards him, her soft warm lips against his cold mouth. His eyes closed and he breathed in her fresh scent. It was a sweet kiss full of tenderness and comfort until their longing for one another became more insistent.
