(i)

Terry Perkins returned to his desk and opened up a case file with a view to double checking a few details about said case. It was boring work, and he found himself on the lookout for some form of distraction. That came when he glanced out the window to see Max escorting Andrew and Millie out. He watched as Max stood and waved as the taxi drove off. No doubt about it, thought Terry, Max played the role of doting dad very competently. Terry just wished that Millie could see through it as clearly as he did. He thought back to his attempt to talk to Millie about Max during her visit. If it had simply been a matter of warning Millie not to trust Max for her own sake, he could have told himself he had done what he could and leave it at that. But there was a child's life at stake here. Why didn't she see that? Could he have made his point any clearer than he did?

Terry's analysis of this was brought to an end by the appearance of Grace Dasari, who was just leaving DI Manson's office. Nothing unusual about that in itself, however Terry happened to catch a glimpse of Grace's face as she passed him, and noted something different about it. Cool, cerebral, detached Grace was looking somehow girlish; there was no other way to describe it. And did he detect a pinkness about her cheeks, like she was blushing?

But that train of thought was also derailed when Terry sensed the lingering presence of Max Carter at the side of his desk. Terry ignored him at first but then realised that Max wasn't going away.

"Sarge," Terry said. "Can I help you?"

Max picked up a pen from Terry's desk to fiddle with.

"Yes, actually. Could I, um, have a word with you? In private?"

Terry closed the case file. This was much more intriguing. "Sure. Let's go into one of the interview rooms."

The two men walked to an empty room and shut the door behind them.

Terry found Max's behaviour odd. But three years of working with Max had taught Terry not to trust him, so he wondered if perhaps this nervousness was all for show. He nonchalantly crossed his arms and leant back against the table.

"Okay Max. I'm listening."

Max combed his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. Only then did he raise his eyes to meet Terry's.

"Terry," said Max. "I've been thinking about what you've been saying."

Terry worked his gum hard while he considered Max's statement.

"About what in particular?" he asked.

Terry's detachment was annoying Max, who had expected more of a reaction from Terry. His nostrils flared slightly, but his flash of anger soon passed. He knew he had to keep his cool.

"I think you know what," he replied.

"You mean your drug addiction?"

"I think the word you want is 'use', Terry. I'm not an addict."

Terry shrugged. "Call it what you want. Anyway, what have you been thinking?"

Max took another deep breath. "I've been thinking, now I'm a father, I need to do something about it."

Max glanced up at Terry to gauge his response, but apart from a slight raising of one eyebrow, Terry's expression didn't change.

"Good. That's the first step. Any idea what exactly you're going to do?"

"I guess I'll take some time off to straighten myself out."

"Spoken to the DI yet?"

"I'm just about to."

Terry nodded. "Right. You do realise, don't you, that this could spell the end of your career?"

Max put his hands on his hips and threw his head back. The hand travelled through his hair again. "I know. But what else can I do? Andrew's more important to me than my job."

Terry suspected most of Max's gestures and grandiose statements were made for dramatic effect. He supposed he in turn should act supportive. "I have to say Max, it took me a lot longer than three months to realise that about my kids. Well done."

"Thanks. Anyway, I just thought I'd let you know what was going on."

Terry stood up and patted Max on the back.

"Good luck with the DI, Max. Let me know how you go, eh?"

"Sure."

Max stood at the doorway and let Terry pass through first. As he turned to shut the door behind him, he thought to himself, some things were just too fucking easy…

(ii)

Neil Manson was leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head, smiling. Grace had said yes! It was amazing to him that a man such as himself, at the staid and venerable age of forty, could pin so much importance on whether or not a girl that he fancied accepted his invitation to dinner. But here he was, over the moon! It had all been a lot simpler than he expected. Grace had come into his office to ask him about a work matter, and the conversation had evolved from there to a few brief comments about how adorable Andrew was, until Neil felt comfortable enough to pop his question. And she hadn't even hesitated. This was shaping up to be quite a weekend for Neil. Time with his son, a night out with the first woman he'd met in a long time with whom he'd consider having a serious relationship, and then the debrief with Millie once the date had taken place. He felt like a very lucky man.

His soaring spirit was brought down from the heavens by a knock on his door. He wondered hopefully if perhaps it could be Grace again.

"Come," he called.

His high hopes well and truly plummeted back to ground level when he saw Max Carter at his door. It felt like the only reason Max entered any sphere of his life, whether it be here at work or his personal life in the form of his relationship with Millie, was to cause him trouble and stress in some way. He wondered what doom and gloom Max was bringing with him this time.

"Good morning, Max," said Neil, clinging to the positivity of his mood. "Andrew made quite an impression this morning, eh? Not that I'm surprised, of course. He is very impressive."

This wasn't the welcome Max had expected and it threw him. "Err, thanks. Guv, I wanted a word with you if that's okay."

"Go ahead," replied Neil, still vainly hoping that his remaining cheerful would counteract the curse of misery Max inevitably brought with him.

"I think I need some time off," said Max simply.

Neil clasped his hands together and tapped his mouth with his extended index fingers. "Okay. As a new father, you're certainly entitled to it. Any particular reason for it, other than Andrew? I did notice you used the word 'need' there."

That he might be entitled to paternal leave hadn't even entered Max's head. He was almost regretting having gone through all the rigmarole of talking to Terry. Still, it was probably best to cover all his bases.

"Andrew's the main reason, but actually, with you spending so much time with Jake - and Millie - these past months, there was a lot of extra responsibility falling my way. I guess I'm feeling burnt out."

Neil flinched slightly when Max had mentioned Jake, and more so when he'd added Millie to the equation. Max always had to get his dig in, didn't he?

"I see. Effective immediately?" Neil found the thought of getting Max off his hands straight away was an appealing one.

"If possible."

"No loose ends to tie up on any cases?"

"All up to date, Guv," said Max.

"Well, in that case just pop the paperwork in and you're on your way."

"Thanks Guv," Max stood to leave. "I would say goodbye, but I dare say we'll be seeing each other soon enough at Millie's anyway."

"Probably," agreed Neil. "Enjoy your time off, Max."

"I will," promised Max.

(iii)

Neil closed the door behind Max. He was always glad to see the back of him. Max's reasons for requesting leave were reasonable and valid, and yet, there was something about the whole interview that didn't quite ring true to Neil. He felt that Max had left the room quietly congratulating himself for having pulled the wool over Neil's eyes. But Max claiming this as a victory was pointless, really. Neil had absolutely no grounds for denying a long serving officer leave at the birth of a child anyway.

He considered the possibility that Max had been laying it on a bit thick about his state of exhaustion, and that could be why he left the room so pleased with himself. Well, whether Max himself knew it or not, any fool could see how much, in the space of the last year, Max had started to unravel. It showed in his diminished physique and his deteriorating relations with everyone he worked with. He was a very different Max Carter to the one who had started at Sun Hill three or so years ago. Having time off, for whatever reason, would undoubtably do Max the world of good. Well, at least Neil hoped so, for Andrew's and Milile's sakes, if not for Max's own.

But despite his dislike and distrust of Max, or maybe even because of them, Neil had recently discovered he had a sneaking sympathy for Max. This was partly due to his understanding of what it was like to be a father when your relationship with your child relied on someone who wasn't actually your partner. No matter how fair they tried to make the system, Neil thought, mothers still held most of the cards. And Neil utterly believed that Max's love for Andrew was very strong and just as sincere. Max was lucky that Millie didn't seem the type, like Pippa, to make the decision to whisk a child away to live in a foreign land. Thank goodness for Jake's maturity and innate ability to understand and forgive parental motivations. Though luckily, on the whole Jake had quite reasonable and rational parents. But how would the average child cope, Neil wondered, if they had been raised by a mother like Max's, to whom Neil and Millie had been introduced the night Andrew was born...

Neil and Millie had been alone with Andrew while Jake visited a friend and Max had gone to collect his mother. Neil was holding Andrew, allowing Millie to have a bit of a stretch by walking around her room. Then they heard the approaching sound of angry voices. At first the only voice they heard was decidedly female, but it was soon joined by a very angry sounding male.

"Is that…Polish?" Millie had asked him.

"I believe it is," confirmed Neil. He knew that her question was actually "do you think that's Max and his mother?" but neither was going to say it. Whatever language it was and whoever the speakers were, the discussion was definitely vitriolic.

It was in fact Max and his mother speaking, and if Neil and Millie had been able to speak Polish, they would have found the conversation running something along the lines of this.

"So, what room is this slut in?"

"Mum, for god's sake, someone will hear you!"

"No one can understand us!"

"What, you think we're the only people in London who speak Polish?"

"So what if they hear us! I just tell it like it is! If you were so ashamed, you'd have asked this girl to marry you! Then you wouldn't have a bastard son!"

"And I've told you a hundred times," said Max through gritted teeth, "that I didn't know she was pregnant until a month ago and she was hardly going to marry me then."

"Why not? You think she's happy not to be married, with a child?"

"She doesn't love me…"

"Well maybe if you'd been man enough to ask her to marry you, you might have talked her into it! Women, especially ones like her, like strong men, not…"

"Right, old woman, we're here. So bite your tongue or you might ruin everything for both of us!"

Max and his mother walked into the room and saw Millie standing across the other side of the bed. Neil was sitting in the corner and remained unobserved by them. In contrast to the bitter shrew he had heard in the corridor, Mrs. Carter had somehow transformed herself into a sweet, fragile grandmotherly type, apparently unable to get herself across with room without the help of her devoted son.

As soon as she set eyes on Millie she made her way towards her, smiled beatifically at her and extending both arms to embrace the mother of her grandchild.

"You must be Millie," she said, in clear though slightly accented English.

"Hello, Mrs. Carter," said a confused Millie, returning the hug.

Neil noticed Max standing nervously behind his mother, trying to anticipate what the old woman would do next.

"Call me Mum," Mrs. Carter continued, playing the loving matriarch to the hilt.

Millie was temporarily dumbstruck. There were so many reasons why there was no way she was ever going to do that, but she could see immediately that annoying Mrs. Carter could have dire consequences for her, and worse ones for Max. And from the defeated look on Max's face, he had enough to cope with already.

"Thank you, Mrs. Carter," Millie said. "But my own mother is still very much alive, and I fear it would be disrespectful to her to call another woman 'mum'."

Mrs. Carter smiled and looked at Max. He was relieved to see that Millie's response seemed to have pleased her. "You hear that, Max. She has respect for her mother. That's very good. Now, where is my grandson?"

Mrs. Carter and Max had presumed Andrew was with a nurse or something, so when Millie indicated Neil sitting in the corner, they were both taken by surprise. Neil was struck by the way the old woman's saccharine demeanour instantly vanished at the sight of another man in the room in which her son's child had so recently been born.

"And who is this?" she asked through narrowed eyes, the venom in her voice undisguised.

"This is DI Neil Manson, Mum," announced Max. "My boss."

"Why is he here?" she asked, her son's answer apparently not satisfying her.

"What's going on?" came a boy's voice from the door to the room. Jake Manson had chosen the perfect moment to return. Mrs. Carter angrily swept around to see the new invader to this family scene, and her eyes lighted on a small, skinny boy, pale skinned, wearing a cap to cover his still half bald head. Some deep long forgotten mother instinct in her was touched by the child. He had obviously been very sick. "Who are you, darling?" she asked softly.

"Mum, this is Jake Manson, Neil's son," Max explained, seeing the perfect segue into an explanation of Neil's presence at the hospital at this late hour. "He, um, has spent a lot of time at this hospital in the last year. Millie and Neil knew each other through work, so when they bumped into each other at the hospital, they became a support to each other. You see what I mean?"

"Yes, yes, I do," the smiling façade had returned to Mrs. Carter's face. "Now, can I hold my grandson?"

Neil's mind returned to the present. He opened his blinds and looked out at CID and saw Max at his desk, still smiling smugly. Max the police officer was all ego. And he was a complete contrast to Max the son. No wonder Max had such concerns about his ability to parent a child. And no wonder it was so important to him to make a success of it. He really had no one else to belong to. He clearly didn't live up to whatever his mother wanted him to be. Neil doubted anyone could.

(iv)

As Max walked out the gates of Sun Hill, he smiled to himself with satisfaction. At times like this he had to ask himself, was he exceptionally smart, or was everyone around him just very, very dumb?