Thanks for all your encouraging comments, it's really great to hear what people think. Hope you enjoy this next installment.
xxx
Chapter 4 – Heart of Glass
Returning to the office after lunch, Alex ploughed through paperwork, clearing her desk, sorting and filing, trying to find the missing piece in the Pat Smith case and trying not to think about Gene and his wife. She was a whirlwind of activity, giving the impression of being efficient and productive, though in reality she was failing in both her objectives.
Eventually the hands on the clock on the station wall crept round towards home time. Glancing at Gene's office, she watch as he buttoned his shirt collar, straightened his tie and ran his hands through his hair. Earlier on he'd vanished to the gents for ten minutes and come back clean shaven and fresh smelling. He shrugged into his overcoat and pulled on his leather driving gloves, striding out across the squad room and towards the double doors.
"Night all, have one for me," he called, making his way to the exit, avoiding catching anyone's eye. Murmurs of "Night, Guv," and "See you tomorrow," followed him out.
Alex sagged in her chair. What the hell was wrong with her? Nothing a glass of red wouldn't cure, she was certain. Shoulders back and closing her folder with a snap, she looked around the room. "Right then, you lot," she announced. "You heard the Guv. Last one in Luigi's buys the round." With that she pushed back her chair, picked up her bag and made straight for the restaurant.
Sipping too quickly from her wine glass as she leant against the bar, Alex thought again about Gene's date with his wife. She really didn't want the thought of it to be so disturbing. After all, it wasn't as though she had any claims on Gene's time or his affection. He was a convenient fantasy figure, that was all. It was nothing to do with her how he spent his evenings, or who he spent them with.
She couldn't help herself, though. She realised that she'd never asked Gene about his wife, what she was like, why things hadn't worked out. Alex wondered what sort of a woman would have dragged Gene to the altar – a quiet, mousy type who never challenged Gene's opinions and made sure there was always dinner on the table and scotch on the sideboard? Or a brassy, headstrong harridan in the Elsie Tanner mould?
It was a struggle to picture him with either. She could hardly imagine he'd be satisfied with someone who didn't fight her own corner – Gene was too fond of an argument to live with someone who never answered back – but he was also too sure of his own opinions to be happy with a woman who constantly challenged him or, worse, tried to make a fool of him. Perhaps that's why they they'd separated. It would be a special kind of woman who could keep Gene happy and not lose herself in the process.
Looking at her watch, Alex wondered impatiently what had happened to the rest of the team. They'd never leave the Guv waiting like this. Where would he have taken his wife for dinner? What if this evening was the beginning of some sort of reconciliation? But then, if Gene were nothing more than expedient fantasy fodder it wouldn't matter if he was married or single, real or imaginary, alive or dead. So why was her throat tightening and her stomach twisting at the thought of Gene's wife falling back into his arms?
She was saved from more uncomfortable introspection by the arrival of Ray and a few of the other members of the team. She stood a round then joined Ray at a table near the stairs. She suspected he'd prefer she wasn't cramping his style but she decided to pull rank – what was the point of being a DI if you couldn't force your subordinates to have a drink with you when you didn't want to be alone?
"All right, boss," he greeted her reluctantly.
"Yeah, not bad thanks, Ray. Good day."
Conversation wasn't flowing smoothly; all they really had in common was the job. Ray looked at her from the corner of his eye. "Missing the Guv tonight, Ma'am?" Alex blinked. Perhaps he wasn't so insensitive after all.
"The Guv? No. Why?"
Ray took a long swig from his beer. "He's out with his missus this evening."
"I know. He told me."
"Think it's the first time she's been down since we moved here."
"It's really none of my business what Gene's doing with his wife…" Alex trailed off unconvincingly.
"Right," said Ray, nodding. He waited, wondering how long she'd take to crack.
"So… Did you know her then? Gene's wife?"
Ray smirked. Not long, then. "Met her a few times. Christmas do's and the like."
"I suppose she must have been…" What? Pretty? Funny? Permanently pissed off? "Nice."
Stifling a chuckle, Ray shook his head. "Not quite how I'd put it."
Was she going to have to drag it out of him? Come on, Ray, she thought. Help me out a bit here. "Strong willed, then."
"Could say that." Ray stubbed his cigarette out, smiling to himself.
Alex resisted the urge to grind her teeth. The silence stretched between them, Ray apparently lost in some memory, Alex drumming her fingers against her thigh in frustration.
"So," Alex tried again. "She gave the Guv a hard time, did she?"
Nodding, Ray folded his eyes and sat back in his seat. "She knew what she wanted, all right. And how to get it." He threw Alex a speculative look. Did she really think the Guv was such a pushover, that he'd never had to deal with a strong woman before?
"And she wanted the Guv?"
"For a while. Then she got fed up with the long hours, the tarts and the booze." He paused, looking at Alex and shaking his head. "She thought she could change him. Tried to get him to cut back, spend more time at home. Course, he didn't. He wouldn't change for any bird. She gave up in the end, kicked him out."
"Mmm." Alex tossed Ray's words around in her head. "What's she doing down here, then? If she's so happy to be rid of him? Gene said something about the divorce settlement."
Ray shrugged. "Dunno. S'pose she could be after the money, whatever he's got left after the bookies and the offie. Knowing her, she'll be trying to squeeze every penny out of him, and then a bit more."
Ray fell silent again as Alex watched Shaz and Chris arrive, walking stiffly to a booth in the corner, not looking at each other, sitting awkwardly together. Ray drained the last of his pint. "Just gonna…" he said, pushing back his chair and wondering across to Shaz and Chris's table. He sat with them and Alex looked on sadly as their faces betrayed their relief at the company.
Refilling her wine glass, Alex wondered back to a stool at the bar. She rested her head on her hand and tried to clear her thoughts of Gene. It was a losing battle. Well, at least she didn't have to torture herself with images of Gene and his faceless missus enjoying themselves in the back of the Quattro. If her mind was going to insist on focusing on him, the least she could do was make sure she was the woman in the scene. She gave a wry smile and closed her eyes, picturing the two of them together, making imaginative use of the filing cabinet in the evidence room.
As pleasant as the daydream was, she found herself distracted by a thought nagging on the edge of her consciousness. Pulling her eyebrows together in a frown, she willed it away but it was too late. The thought had already taken hold.
The money. The missing cash from the evidence room. A cold wave washed through her as she pinned down the elusive thought and she was suddenly glad she hadn't told Gene about what she'd found. Missing money. Gene's cash-grabbing wife. What did two and two make?
Surely he wouldn't. The Gene she thought she knew – she didn't want it to be him. But how well did she know him really? She thought back to Sam Tyler's notes. He'd recounted plenty of incidents when Gene had pushed the boundaries of acceptable behaviour. Those had all been justified on the basis that they helped get the right result in the end. But Alex knew that it was a slippery slope, that once you started breaking the rules it became easier and easier to explain away your actions.
Alex felt desolate. Not only having to wrestle with her jealousy over Gene's wife, she now also had to cope with the idea that Gene may be lifting cash from the station. It couldn't be him. But anyone could have access to the keys to the safe, Shaz didn't exactly keep them securely stored away. And no one would question what the Guv was doing in the evidence room. Somehow it seemed all too plausible.
She remained sitting at the bar, finishing one bottle of wine and moving on to a second without really noticing. Lost in thought over Gene, the shiraz adding to her sense of confusion, she ran scenario after scenario through her head. Gene announcing a move back to Manchester, arm in arm with the missus and wearing a satisfied smirk. Gene being carted away by some nerdy internal investigations officer for theft and corruption. Gene sweeping her off her feet and onto her back –
No! Not that. The alcohol had sapped her powers of reasoning but she knew she was way too angry with him right now even to contemplate such an encounter. The team had noticed her increasingly sour mood and had largely left her alone, and she'd spent the evening drinking herself miserable, swapping between righteous indignation and angry despair.
Alex had blearily poured the last of the second bottle when she sensed someone take the stool next to her. It took her a moment longer than it should have to realise. "Gene," she said carefully, eyes narrowed in confusion. "What are you doing here? Thought you were out with your 'wife'."
Gene pouted as her fingers traced quotation marks in the air as she spoke. "I've told you to stop doing that," he replied gruffly, gesturing at her hands. "Had to pick something up from the office. Thought I'd stop in for a pint on my way home." The only thing Gene had left in his office was his hip flask, and it wasn't as though he hadn't any spares. He was hardly going to tell her the real reason for coming back, though. That dinner with his wife – soon, thankfully, to be ex-wife – had been so soul destroying that he'd been driven to come back here, to see if Alex was here, to draw reassurance from her strength and her warmth.
He peered closer at her. Oh. Perhaps less strong and warm this evening than drunk and disorderly. Looked like he had some catching up to do. He put out his hand to signal for another bottle when Alex turned on him, gripping his arm tightly as she frowned in his direction.
"Have a nice evening, did you?" She leant towards him, lids heavy, pronouncing each word carefully. An acid smile twisted on her face. "You and the delightful Mrs Hunt?"
Gene stared at her for a moment, wondering exactly how much she'd had to drink. "Not especially," he replied.
She couldn't stop herself; the wine and the anger made it come tumbling out. "Didn't feel like a quick roll in the hay, then? For old time's sake?"
"What?"
"Or did she turn you down? Can't say I'd blame her, but then she can't have had all that much sense to have married you in the first place."
"Hang on a minute, Bolly."
"No, no, you hang on." Alex clutched the bowl of the wineglass, picking it up and waving it dangerously close to Gene's white shirt, pointing her index finger at him accusingly. "You think you can have whatever you want, push your way through every problem, throw your weight around make everyone fall into line. You know what you are, Gene? You're a bully." She nodded at him, folding her arms clumsily, spilling a few drops of red on the floor, daring him to deny her accusations.
Gene looked along his nose at her. "As usual, Bolly, I haven't got the faintest idea what you're on about. But I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume it's the booze talking." He tried to disguise the disappointment in his eyes, although he suspected she was too far gone to notice anyway. What had he done to her this time? He'd thought she was coming round. And what was all that rubbish about his missus? "Maybe it's time you went home, before you say something else you'll regret."
"Ooh, that's just typical," Alex spat. "Can't stand the truth. Rather brush it aside. Well, you won't get rid of me that easily, Gene Hunt."
"More's the pity," he muttered under his breath.
She set down her glass with a thump, sending a few more drops over the side, and slapped both hands down on the bar. Luigi, polishing glasses from a discreet distance, sent Gene a sympathetic glance.
"You know your problem, Gene?"
"My grace under pressure? My innate charm and good looks?" He needn't have bothered; she didn't pause long enough to hear him.
"Your problem is that you're so arrogant you refuse to play by anybody else's rules. Your wife wants cash? You'll skim a bit so she can have it. Easy." She frowned, deflated suddenly, and carried on in a mumble. "Don't even know why I'm disappointed. Should've known better."
"Alex," Gene sighed, exasperated. "Is there any point in continuing this conversation? Or shall we skip the bit where you give me ten shades of grief and proceed straight to the part where you stalk off in a huff?"
"Smart answer to everything," snapped Alex. "Well, you won't get out of this one with a – a – a throwaway line and a cheeky grin." She took another slug from the wineglass, wiping a hand across her mouth and smearing her lipstick as she replaced the glass unsteadily on the bar.
Gene began to lose patience. "I'm not trying to get out of anything, love. Look, I think it's time you went home. I'll help you upstairs."
"Oh, that'd be right, wouldn't it?" Alex was shouting now, not caring that she could be heard across the whole restaurant. "Think you can charm your way out of anything. We'll, I'm not buying," she yelled, swaying slightly on the stool and grabbing onto the bar for stability. All Alex's increasing hurt and confusion came out in her tirade. "No wonder your missus turned you down for a little reunion quickie. No woman would end up in the sack with you out of choice. Certainly not twice."
It was the drink talking, Gene told himself. Something was winding her up – God knew what – and she was just ranting at the first idiot to get in her way. Didn't mean anything. "Listen, Alex," he hissed in her ear. "As interesting as this conversation is, perhaps it's one we could have another time. A little more privately. With a little less volume."
"Cover it up, you mean?" she asked loudly. "That'd be just like you. Well, I'm not covering anything up for you. Oh no. So you can just put that money back where you found it, Gene, and if you're very lucky I won't tell anyone what I know."
Gene sat back, baffled. He didn't need this. He'd had a shit evening haggling with the wife and he'd hoped for a quiet pint and a little understanding. Instead the one person who could make him feel better was doing her damnedest to make him feel worse. "You're making even less sense than usual, Bolls," he said angrily, sliding off the stool and picking up his overcoat. "Perhaps you'll take my advice for a change and get yourself home. I'll see you tomorrow. Don't even think about being late."
"Don't worry," Alex replied, missing the bar with her wineglass but barely even noticing as it smashed to the floor. "I'm off." She slipped off her stool and strode carefully towards the door. "And to think," she threw over her shoulder as she left, "I was beginning to change my opinion of you. Which makes me an even bigger fool than you." With that she banged through the doors and left in the direction of her flat.
Gene sat back on his stool, lighting a cigarette with hands that trembled slightly. Even now he wanted her. She'd looked beautiful, her anger and her drunkenness adding colour to her cheeks and sparks to her eyes. There really was no contest when it came to who was the bigger fool.
Catching Luigi's eye, he signalled for another bottle. He wasn't nearly drunk enough yet to go home alone. With his back to the room, he didn't notice Shaz leaving her table, pulling her hand from Chris's, her eyes suspiciously bright as she dashed through the door and into the night.
