I used to have a hamster called Rufus
"What did you mean, I'm ready?" Robert Strickland couldn't concentrate on his cornflakes. He watched as his daughter meandered hurriedly about their flat trying to get herself and her baby ready for the day. His… girlfriend? was in the bathroom and he was still trying to eat the breakfast that wasn't nearly as captive to his imagination as the elusive words he had been told last night.
"Hmm?" Mia murmured as she pulled the cushions off the sofa. "Where the bloody hell is it?"
"Mia?" he regretted the sharp tone to his voice as soon as she looked at him. "Sorry, what are you looking for?"
"Bella's flipping sock!" she exclaimed. "I want to put a wash on before I go to college right? So where the heck's it gone?! Ah-ha!"
Triumphantly she stood in the middle of the room amongst a pile of discarded cushions holding high above her head the evasive sock that had in fact been underneath the coffee table probably the whole time. She looked about her as her dad looked on in confusion and her daughter clapped her hands together. Taking pity on the somewhat desperate look on his face she stepped over her attempt at feng-shui and cut a path to where he sat at the breakfast bar.
"Your cornflakes are all soggy," she pointed out mundanely as she tickled the little girl staring up at her from her car seat. "You know what I meant," she added quietly for she knew that Sandra was only a few yards and two walls away from them. "You're ready. Ring him."
"Who?" Rob was no nearer to understanding. Her elaboration had only increased his lack of understanding.
She cocked her head to one side, 'seriously dad?' written all over her face. "Rufus? My brother? Your son?"
It was only through the miracle of Bella pulling on her fingers and distracting her that she hadn't added the final qualification that she had been about to attribute to her brother. Rob nodded slowly. He hadn't spoken to Rufus since Christmas Day, Helen had taken him away with her to spend Christmas in New York with her new bloke and his family. The conversation had been brief. And as soon as Rufus had greeted his sister, Helen had taken the phone away from him and hung up. Rob and Mia had spent a relatively peaceful Christmas Day together, once they'd finished mutually cursing his ex-wife.
"I'll ring him today," Rob promised.
"You're fishing on Saturday," she reminded him, returning to rearrange the sofa as it had been before her rampage.
"Oh yeah," Sandra emerged from the bathroom rubbing her hair dry with a towel. "Brian mentioned that again last night."
"Oh?" Rob asked.
"Relax, he's looking forward to it. He's been going on about some sort or other of bait and which one to get," she rolled her eyes. "As long as he doesn't keep it in the fridge again."
Rob decided he didn't want to know.
"Your cornflakes are all soggy," Sandra observed as she pulled up a seat and filled a bowl of her own.
After a morning less tiresome than usual, most likely owing to the Commissioner and Assistant Commissioner being out at a high-brow soiree that evening and spending the day that they would usually be destroying the souls of their underlings having their suits fitted. And their nails done, Rob imagined playfully. He settled in his office with the sandwiches Mia had made him that morning. Tuesdays were a full day for her at college and included spending lunchtime at an extra class, so she took a packed lunch rather than use the canteen and had fallen into the habit of making him one up too. It was something he was not objectionable too as Tuesdays for him were usually ball-aching bureaucracy in the morning followed by never-ending paperwork in the afternoon; a little reminder of home half-way through the day was nice. Having enjoyed his lunch, he pulled his mobile from his pocket. Now was as good a time as any. Rufus was at boarding school in Hertfordshire, lunch time was likely not that different there as in London. Sure enough after a few rings, the call was answered.
"Hi Rufus? It's your dad. … Yes, how's school? … Good, good. What are you up to now? … Lunch. I see. Me too. … No, everything's fine. … Listen, what are you doing this weekend? … Ok, erm, is it ok if we come up on the Sunday then? … Yeah? … Right, well, the thing is, Mia would like to see you. … Yes, you can meet your niece. …. There's someone else I'd like you to meet too. … Ok, great, well we'll see you this weekend then. … Ok, take care, bye."
"Are you kidding me?" Gerry exploded as he put the phone down angrily. "Are they actually having a bloody 24/7 comedy gala at Bournemouth Nick?"
"Not helpful?" Steve looked over as he chucked his jacket over the back of one of the chairs. He and Sandra had just returned from seeing the woman who had petitioned them to re-open the case of her father's death twelve years ago.
"Understatement of the century," Brian confirmed as he glanced up from his computer.
"The file they sent over is bloody useless; the original investigating team, who have by the way been relocated all over the sodding country, are impossible to talk to; and the idiot who was in charge of the case is a bloody idiot!" Gerry fumed. "How the hell he managed to get promoted to running anything more than a tap is a flaming joke!"
"This is the guy who's now Chief Super at Bournemouth?" Sandra walked across the office to the kettle. "I worked with him once in the murder squad. He was on attachment, Jack sent him back after three days with a note requesting he be attached somewhere else."
"By his underpants up a lamppost?" Gerry asked optimistically.
"Something like that," she grinned. Putting the kettle on to boil she eyed the fridge suspiciously. She really hoped Brian hadn't put any live bait in there. Mia had made her some sandwiches that morning and she was fairly sure that cheese and maggot was not a favourite combination of hers.
"Here, I'll do that," Steve interrupted her thoughts and nodded toward the ringing phone in her office. "So the case was basically run by a bunch of monkeys who have all since been separated to the far corners?"
"Pullman?" Sandra answered. "Oh, hi. What can I do for you?"
"In the middle of the working day? Don't give me ideas," Rob's voice came down the line. "Actually I was just checking that you didn't have any plans on Sunday?"
"Why, where are you taking me?" she toyed with the wire of the phone for a moment then stopped herself. There was no need to act like a character in a romantic comedy.
"Hertfordshire. I'd like you to meet my son, and for him to meet you. If that's ok?"
She hesitated a second. For some reason, this felt like a big deal. It shouldn't, she reasoned. She already lived with his daughter and granddaughter after all. "That's fine," she assured him. Agreeing that she'd probably be late and that chicken would be lovely for tea she put the phone down.
"Everything alright, guv?" Gerry called.
"Yeah fine," she re-entered the office where Steve had finished making the coffee and was handing out the lunches from the fridge. "Rob's taking me to meet Rufus on Sunday."
Gerry and Steve exchanged meaningful looks with their boss while Brian simply responded with a statement he had made once before: "I used to have a hamster called Rufus."