William was slowly walking towards station four. There was a game tonight. He had been playing for a while now. The boys at Station One had somehow found out he knew how to play and had coerced him into it when one of their regulars had broken a leg. After all, he needed some distractions; anything to get his mind of Julia. Even his priest had told him he needed to get out more. It was the day William had confessed to breaking the 10th commandment…., again. This time, his priest stopped William from continuing by lifting his hand. The priest looked at him, took a long breath and said:
"William, Willliam, William. Every month now for nearly two years you confess to breaking the 10th commandment. No matter the number of Hail Maries I assign to you, you come to confession every month with the same sin." The priest took another long breath and said:
"Perhaps this is something you should take directly to the Lord William. I don't seem to be able to help you with this." He hesitated again before continuing:
"William you are a good man who just had a terrible time of it. Your position, your sister, your ..." Father O'Leary did not finish his sentence. He hesitated again: "Maybe you need a bit of distraction. Why don't you try doing something other than work?" William had taken him to his words and had decided to start playing hockey again.
William arrived at the rink, sat down on the bench, exchanged a few words with his teammates and started getting his equipment on. This time, William thought, this time he would not look up; would not look up to the morgue window to see if she was there. This time, William would have control.
He nearly made it. He was down to lacing up his skates when, without even realizing it, he looked up. Her light was on. He stopped breathing for a few seconds. His chest tightened. Julia was there; so close to him. He wondered if he would see her in the window again tonight. During previous games, he had noticed her standing there, looking down. He wondered if she had recognized him on the ice. Deep down, he really hoped that she knew it was him.
William's thoughts were interrupted by McLaren of Station Four: "I hear the good doctor likes policemen Murdoch. With her husband neglecting her and such, it's a good thing I am around to pick up the slack."
The players around them stopped talking and looked at William and the other constable. William stood up quickly, took a few steps towards McLaren, stopped and looked at him directly in the eyes for a few seconds. The other constable was the first one to look away. William simply skated away.
The game started and William started enjoying himself. Again and again George came charging down the ice trying unsuccessfully to skate around William. George did manage it once and scored. William had again taken another glance at the morgue window trying to see if Julia was there and his inattention had allowed George to skate through.
And then, there was McLaren. Each time they met on the ice, the constable would manage to do some dirty play and say something even worse.
The first time: "You were not man enough for her Murdoch."
The second time: "She likes them young you know, and guess what. I just happen to be around."
Each time, William would deftly take the puck away from him and skate away.
The third and final time: "We should compare notes sometimes. I really like it when she …
McLaren did not get to finish his sentence. William dropped his gloves and started pounding away. Within seconds McLaren was down on the ice with blood coming out of his nose and mouth. Still, William did not stop hitting him. Finally George and another player grabbed William and dragged him away from Mclaren. William glared at the constable while taking in deep breaths.
McLaren slowly got up with an ugly sneer on his face. Then without anybody excepting it, he took his stick and viscously hit William in the head with it. Quickly other players got Mclaren away as again William was lunging at him.
"Oye what's going on here." Said Brackenried.
George answered. "We had a bit of a fight sir". He skated to the Inspector and muttered a few words:
…. "Mclaren drinking on the bench. Said ….. about Dr. Ogden….. William just exploded….. McLaren pretty beaten up. Will need stiches."
Brackenried looked up: "Bloody hell. This game is over lads. Go home. George, bring those two in and keep an eye on them while I get a doctor."
Thomas looked at William and McLaren for a second then walked away. He did not like McLaren. He was chief Inspector Stockton's nephew. He was incompetent, lazy and spoiled, but he was Stockon's nephew and Thomas had to put up with him. He walked over to the morgue to get Julia. He really did not want to involve her in this but he wanted this night to be over and she was the closest doctor. For the thousandth time he wished her and Murdoch could have sorted themselves out. It was obvious to everybody but them that these two belonged together.
In the last year, he had noticed her working later and later each evening. Obviously the marriage was not an overwhelming success. After being married to Margaret for more than ten years, he still looked forward to going home each night… Brackenried chuckled, well not lately; the bloody women had her two sisters staying for a few weeks. He had not been able to get a word in in days.
He walked into the morgue and explained the situation to Dr. Ogden. The boys had been rough tonight and a doctor was needed. Could she help? Of course she agreed. Thomas felt guilty. He did not tell her one of the players was Murdoch. She packed her bag and followed him to the station house. They walked in. Thomas motioned for George to leave. Bloody wimpy McLaren complained the whole time the doctor worked on him. Thomas even told him to shut up once. He was running out of patience with the drunken bloody idiot. Finally the doctor was done. Thomas grabbed the constable by the arm and turned to the doctor:
"Well I will take him home and leave you to deal with the other one. While he needs a bit of stitching up, he at least is not drunk. You should be able to handle him with no problem".
William had been quietly sitting in the corner for a while now. He was angry for loosing control. McLaren was an idiot. Deep down William knew there was nothing going on between him and Julia. He knew that McLaren had only been egging him along. He had managed to keep his control for most of the game. Then McLaren had gone a step too far and William had not been able to stop himself. William had gone for him. William did not even remember the fight. He only remembered the anger, the burning anger. Two years of anger, hurt, bitterness had gone into that fight. McLaren never knew what hit him. William had snapped out of it when George had dragged him away telling him: "Stop Will, stop. He's had enough. He's had his lesson. Stop before you go to far." William had shook his head, looked at George and had let himself be dragged away from McLaren.
William heard the door open and saw the Inspector walk in with… Julia. He frantically looked around to see if he could escape before she saw him. Impossible, there was no way out. She did not notice him. Brackenried walked her over to McLaren and she started working on him. William tensed. If that idiot said or did anything to Julia, William was ready to pounce. But, with the inspector standing over him, the young constable managed to behave.
William let himself relax for a moment and looked at Julia. She looked so beautiful. It had been so long since he had been able to look at her this close for this long. For a few precious minutes, he allowed himself to enjoy and simply looked at her. She finished working on McLaren and exchanged a few words with the inspector. She then looked up directly at him and stopped as she realized who he was. William saw her look back for a second before she started walking towards him. William spoke first:
"Good evening Doctor".
Julia answered him and quickly set to tend to his wound. She touched him, and it felt so good. William now knew how an alcoholic must feel when he takes that first drink. He could feel the sweetness of her touch slowly invading every cell of his body. He knew it was wrong, that it was bad for him, but like an addict he could not stop himself. Lost in the pleasure of her touch, he only heard the last few words she said.
"much of you these days William"
"Constables from Station House One don't have much reasons to visit the morgue", Even as he was mouthing his response, William regretted his words. He realized that it sounded as though he was blaming Julia for his current situation. He knew this was wrong. It was not her fault. His current state was all his own doing; his own fault. Julia was talking again:
"What possessed you to fight tonight William? I have never known you to fight at hockey before".
William did not know that a dozen words could make him so happy. She had been watching him. All those nights hopping she was watching. She had been. Despite his better judgment, William enjoyed that thought. So much that he even dared to tease Julia:
"You have watched other games before?" I did not realize you liked hockey. Do you attend Darcy's games then?"
Julia looked flustered as she answered. William was enjoying teasing her. It was like before, before when they were together. They exchanged a few words and ended up quietly smiling at each other. Her smile felt like the first warm spring day after a long cold winter. Julia was the first one to look away and said:
"Well I am finished here Constable. These stitches should stay in for about 10 days. Do please come over to the morgue when it is time and I will take them out. I do hope this will teach you a lesson about fighting. Why on earth did you fight, you never did say?"
William decided he would not allow the ugliness of McLaren to ruin this moment and deftly avoided the real reason why he had fought by talking about having to wear a silly hockey jersey. Julia was talking again:
"Even though this is a nasty head wound, I do not think you have suffered any serious head injury. Nevertheless, should you experience heavy headaches or feel unusually lethargic, do please get in touch with me"
William looked at her, smiled and thanked her. Julia left. William just sat still for a while thinking about those stitches. He was already looking forward to getting them out. He would endure any pain to be close to her for a few seconds. Just those few moments with her here tonight had been wonderful. He knew it was wrong to enjoy her touch so much.
The 10th commandment had taken another beating tonight. William would have to have another talk with the Lord. He picked up his things and left, happier than he had been in years.