Three weeks later Tommy watched Barbara pack up her desk ready to leave for the evening. Once again she had rejected his invitation to dinner. For one night they had been so close that he had dared to hope she loved him as strongly as he adored her and now, for no reason he could fathom, she was drifting steadily away from him. He ran his hand slowly through his hair, pushing it back from his face. It was a gesture she had repeated throughout that night and the memory stabbed him.
His eyebrows arched curiously when she pulled his old laptop bag from under her desk. "Night Sir," she said happily as she gave him a generous, fond smile, "gotta run. See you tomorrow."
"Good night Barbara." Tommy tried to sound cheerful. He was determined not to let her see him morose. As he watched her bustle away, her coat snagging momentarily on the door handle, he smiled briefly at her clumsiness then frowned.
"Sir? Everything aw'right?"
"What? Oh, sorry Winston. Yes, fine. Do you know where Havers is going?"
"Nah, just that she wanted to get away on time. Hot date maybe."
Tommy felt his anger stirring at the thought. "She had her laptop with her so I doubt that," he snapped.
"Computer dating?" Winston suggested, oblivious to his boss's growing anger. "She brings it in twice a week. Maybe she joined some sort of gaming group or a nerd group."
He began to regret buying his new computer. "A nerd group?"
"Yeah, people who do things with computers instead of interacting normally. She's shy like that, it might be a way to make new friends."
Tommy was becoming more uncomfortable. He did not want her making new friends. He wanted her back with him, having a drink and then a romantic dinner followed by a night cuddled in his arms. He sighed heavily. "Thank you, Winston. Good night."
"Good night, Sir."
Winston was now looking at him sympathetically. Tommy had revealed his feelings and it annoyed him. "And make sure you finish that report first thing so you can go out with Havers and interview the woman across the street. I don't know how someone with your experience missed her the first time!" Winston's face fell and he muttered an apology before escaping.
Lynley took a deep breath and returned to his office. He had taken out his anger on poor Winston which was not fair. He would apologise in the morning. He felt far too much like a drink so he sat at his desk to delay the inevitable. He had been imbibing far too heavily in recent weeks, even he recognised that fact.
He brought up the report into the baker's murder but sat staring blankly at his screen as he twisted his pen repeated through his fingers. He could not really concentrate on anything but Barbara. His mind had barely been off her since that wonderful night at his house. He had not really known what he expected when he had whispered in her ear that they should go to bed. She had smiled so lovingly at him that his heart literally skipped several beats. As he led her upstairs he was determined that it had to be her choice. He was not going to press her into anything she might regret. There was no need to rush anything; they had the rest of their lives. He had pointed out the spare room as an option but to his joy, she had elected to stay with him.
Tommy closed his eyes and remembered every word spoken and every gentle touch. He had bared his soul to her that night and she had listened without judgement. She had told him things about her family and her feelings that she had never before admitted aloud. Together, in each other, they had found solace and acceptance. Her absence now was a physical pain gnawing deep inside him. He needed her, and he could not understand how she could so callously ignore the fact that he was in love with her.
They had slept through the next morning, still in each other's arms, then in the afternoon he had helped Barbara set up his old computer in her flat. After that everything had changed, or rather it had not changed the way he had hoped. She had waved goodbye with a generous, adoring smile then the next day back at work she acted as if everything was the relationship reverted to their old style of friendship. Even the sexually-charged banter had gone. She was still treating him with her unique mix of caring disrespect but Barbara no longer seemed interested in dining with him and always seemed anxious to get away when they went for a drink after work. Even if she told him she was not interested they could, at least, discuss it but treating it as if nothing had ever happened was beyond cruel. He felt used.
He sat and stewed for another hour before he remembered his old laptop was still linked to a tracking app on his phone. If she was logged into a Wi-Fi hotspot or internet connection, it would silently ping her computer and give him its approximate location. He debated for several minutes the ethics of spying on his partner. He knew it was an unnecessary and unwarranted invasion of her privacy but his possessiveness and jealousy won out and he guiltily pushed the trace button on the app.
It took about two minutes before the answer appeared. Barbara was near the Clerkenwell Animal Hospital. That made no sense to Tommy at all. He waited fifteen minutes then pinged again. This time, it pinpointed the corner of Goswell and Clerkenwell Roads on the tiny map. Tommy brought up a bigger map on his computer. It was near the veterinary hospital but the only thing he could see there was a coffee shop. The knowledge did nothing to calm his restless mood. How could she have someone else? He paced up and down his office then did the only thing he could do. He drove home and finished off the bottle of Balvenie he had started the night before.
The next day when he picked her up at her flat, Barbara noticed Tommy was moody and slightly hungover. She had learnt to read the signs over the years. He had been very good the last few months but the last three weeks, since the night she had stayed at his house, he had been out of sorts. It was a shame because she had enjoyed the evening and the night that followed. She had secretly hoped they might be able to repeat it some time, but she feared Tommy had realised she was growing too fond of him. She was long practised at pretending she did not love him so it had been easy to step back and give him some space before he made a foolish mistake.
"How was your evening?" he asked. The question dripped with bitter sarcasm which she ignored.
"Yeah, good. Quite productive really. What about yours?"
"I drank."
"I can tell that. Want to talk about it?"
"No." There was a minute of deadly silence. Tommy had to ask. "Productive, in what way exactly?"
Barbara did not miss the edge to his voice. Something was troubling him and she could tell she was at the heart of it. If only he would tell her what was going on in his head! "I achieved a lot."
"Well good for you."
Barbara grunted and bit her tongue. There was no point arguing with him. She would only say things she would later regret. She had already revealed far more than she had intended that night when she had been safely cocooned in his arms. Her face flushed crimson as she remembered how warm and secure it had been and how she had surrendered, just for a night, to feeling loved.
She looked across at Tommy. His knuckles were white as he strangled his steering wheel. Barbara wanted to reach over and stroke them or put a reassuring hand on his thigh, anything to let him know she saw his pain. It was impossible to explain to someone like Tommy why she retreated but it was to protect him. He would forget soon enough when he found another leggy brunette to chase after.
The following day Tommy was at the office early and as he suspected Barbara had her laptop with her when she arrived. He found an excuse to spend the day in his office where he could ignore her. Just the sight of her made him angry.
When Barbara left the office ten minutes after her boss she did not notice him standing in the shadows of the grand hotel foyer on the corner. She hurried along to the Tube and into the drab grey triple doors of the station. She held the handrail of the escalator as it descended to the platform. She had a vaguely uneasy feeling as she stood on the charcoal coloured tiles waiting for the train. She looked around but nothing seemed amiss. When the blast of air across the platform signalled the train's approach she stepped up to the row of yellow bumps that acted as a final reminder of the gap. A quick glimpse of movement caught her eye but when she turned no one was there. She would almost have sworn Tommy was nearby. She shook her head then found a seat just inside the door. She settled in, unaware Tommy had slipped quietly into the carriage behind her.
The Circle Line train took her straight to Barbican. Tommy cursed inwardly when Barbara alighted at one of the only Tube stations open to the air. He felt more exposed and visible as he stepped from the train carriage just before the doors closed. He prayed she would not turn around. He followed at a very discreet distance, almost losing sight of her twice. She wound her way out of the station and walked purposefully, heading north along Goswell Road. The public street was relatively quiet and provided little cover. Tommy knew with one glance behind, Barbara would spot him. Blood pounded guiltily in his temples and he loosened his collar under his jumper.
He lingered in the doorway of a hotel as he watched Barbara check her watch then hurry towards the Charterhouse Buildings. He trailed about one hundred yards behind her and saw her turn left then enter one of the buildings. He waited five minutes to be sure she did not re-emerge then walked up the little road that was not much more than an alleyway. Framed by the maroon trimmed picture windows she was sitting in a group watching a display. Tommy's eye was drawn to the sign above the door, "Society of Genealogists". A sandwich board by the door read 'Genealogy for Beginners, Eight Sessions, Tuesdays and Thursdays 7 - 10 pm'. His offer of love had been passed over for a Family History course!