CHAPTER 19 -Something's challenging

Part 1

When George Fancy got back at round five-thirty, the house was still empty. He was feeling in a much better mood than he had been a couple of hours earlier as he had been given the all-clear by the police doctor to return to work on Monday, albeit on light duties for most of the week. That meant he would be confined to the office and required to carry out the dreaded 'general duties', a term of expression that he had learned covered all manner of dull and tedious routine office tasks including typing up reports, doing background research, logging evidence exhibits and a wide variety of physically undemanding and mentally mind-numbing jobs. However, to Fancy, they were infinitely more interesting than sitting alone at home being bored out of his tiny mind.

He decided he would quickly take advantage of the fact that he was still alone in the house, although he suspected it might not be for long, to revisit Morse's room and check that he had left no immediately visible signs that he had been in there behind Morse's back. Trewlove's words of disapproval and disappointment were still ringing loud in his head and he was desperate to get back in her good books as soon as possible. He could at least make sure that he had covered his tracks properly and had left behind no tell-tale signs of his unauthorised presence. He had just finished making a careful and painstaking sweep of the room with his eyes when he heard a key in the front door. He rapidly exited Morse's room and bolted into the lavatory to take cover. Moments later he flushed the loo and emerged onto the landing and went downstairs where he ran into DS Strange in the kitchen.

'Hi, George,' said Strange with a warm smile. 'How did it go at the doc's?'

'I can go back to work on Monday,' replied Fancy. 'Only light duties, though, at the start of the week at any rate.'

'Well, that's good news, isn't it? Better than moping around here all day on your own, surely?'

Fancy nodded in agreement although he still wasn't looking forward to having to move out of his temporary accommodation. He had got used to the company and the social life that it had afforded him over the past few days. 'I suppose so. I'll be glad to get back to work but It's still going to be murder going back to living with my parents again. Still, at least you'll get your own bed back. You'll be glad about that.'

Strange chuckled in response. 'You're telling me, George. That sofa wasn't too bad the first night but last night I hardly got a wink of sleep. I was tossing and turning all night trying to get comfortable.'

Fancy apologised again for depriving Strange of his warm, comfortable bed but Strange wouldn't hear of it. 'You're alright, George. I was glad to help out until you were back on your feet again. Don't mention it.'

Strange put on the kettle and made them both a cup of tea as they made themselves comfortable in the kitchen which, more so than the living room, had become their routine meeting place where all the housemates tended to gather for a chat. 'Well, since this is going to be your last night here, George, do you feel up to celebrating it with a night out?'

'Sure,' said Fancy, more than a little intrigued. 'What do you have in mind?'

'There's a quiz night from eight o'clock at St Aldates. I've already spoken to Dr De Bryn and Shirley and they're both up for it. If you're interested, then we've got a team of four.'

'What about Morse? We could do with his brains on the team, don't you think?'

Strange gave Fancy a pitiful look as if to say, 'Come on, be serious!' before dampening his enthusiasm. 'Well, I'll ask him if you want but I know what his answer will be.'

'What, he'd even turn down the chance to show off how clever he is in a quiz? Seriously?' Fancy was astonished that Morse could be so modest, so self-effacing, so eager to hide his light under the deepest bushel, that he would shy away from a rare opportunity to publicly display his vast range of knowledge in front of Oxford's learned gentry.

'That's Morse for you, George. When he's at work and there's a puzzle to be solved that needs specialist knowledge, you know, like opera or literature or ancient history, things that are way above the heads of the likes of you and me, then he's in his element. That's his moment to shine and show off. When he's not at work, he hates the limelight. He's not comfortable showing off in front of other people. He prefers to stay in the background, hide in the shadows, so to speak.'

Fancy nodded in silence. He believed he now recognised that contrast between the public and the private Morse. These last couple of days had enabled him to see the two sides to this enigmatic and contradictory colleague who could seemingly switch between these contrasting masks at will. Right on cue, as Strange and Fancy were openly discussing him in detail behind his back, they heard a key in the door and in walked Morse. They fell unnaturally silent as one often does when confronted by the very person one has just been talking about and Morse looked at the pair of them a tad suspiciously.

'Have I interrupted something?' he asked as he saw the suspicion of a guilty look on Fancy's face.

'No. We were just wondering if you would join us on our quiz team tonight.' Strange looked quizzically at Morse with no outward sign that he knew it was a pointless question. 'There's one taking place at St Aldates at eight.'

'Can't, I'm afraid,' said Morse as he picked up the local newspaper from the table and thumbed through it looking for one particular section towards the back.

'Something planned, Morse?' asked Fancy, curious as to what Morse might be doing on a rare night out.

'Um…yes, I'm meeting someone.'

'Wouldn't happen to be that girl you got talking to in the pub last night, would it?' Strange knew how quick Morse was to form relationships with attractive women he had only just met up with.

'It might,' said Morse, being deliberately vague. 'I thought we might go to the cinema if there's anything good on.'

'I think In The Heat of the Night's showing somewhere in town,' suggested Strange, trying to be helpful in case that prompted Morse to divulge any further information about this latest conquest of his. 'I've heard it's a damn good film.'

Morse nodded his head approvingly at Strange's suggestion. 'Yes, that's a possibility.'

'Ok. Well, you could always drop in at the pub after the film finishes. See how we're doing. Introduce us to your new girlfriend.' Strange knew he was being a bit cheeky, not to mention presumptuous, but nothing ventured, he thought.

'She's not my girlfriend,' said Morse and having read through the local cinema listings, he replaced the paper on the table and took his leave without taking any more of the bait offered up by Strange. After Morse had left the kitchen, Strange couldn't help breaking out into a broad grin and he winked at Fancy who smiled nervously back. What Strange couldn't know was that Fancy was no longer pondering over Morse's mysterious new female acquaintance but was instead waiting with bated breath to see if Morse came charging back down the stairs in a blind rage demanding to know who had been in his room.

Part 2

Fred Thursday and Win were having a run through their Tango routine out in the back garden in preparation for the quarter-finals of the county finals in just over a week's time. Even though Fred was feeling a bit tired after his strenuous day traipsing around the pubs of Oxford with Morse, he hadn't been able to refuse Win's request for a bit of practice time to polish up their routine. Win was desperate to put on a good show this year and make at least the semi-finals at long last after a number of near misses in recent times and Fred was determined not to let her down by putting forward tiredness as an excuse for not rehearsing their routine until it was virtually perfect down to the last step.

They rehearsed their routine several times while the early evening light was still good and the fresh air made Win's cheeks glow although that may also have had something to do with the pride she felt at Fred's masterly performance as he led her confidently and expertly around the impromptu dance floor that was their back garden.

'That was near perfect, Fred,' she cried with elation at the end of their final practice dance.

'Near perfect's not enough, Win,' said her husband as they stood facing one another as they held their final pose for a few seconds, imagining the applause that would break out on completion of their routine. 'If we want the semi-finals, it will have to be perfect. Shall we try one more time for perfection?'

'No, better not,' said Win. 'Let's leave perfection for the quarter's, Fred. Let's not peak too early.'

'Fair enough,' said Fred with a knowing smile. 'You know best.'

'Well, I think we've earned ourselves a drink, don't you?' Win led the way inside and went to pour Fred a glass of Mackeson's and herself a small gin and bitter lemon. They took their drinks into the lounge and collapsed in exhaustion on to the sofa where they put their drinks on the table and got their breath back after a punishing rehearsal session.

'Are you all set for tomorrow, love?' Fred asked Win as they relaxed with their drinks. 'You got your outfit planned?'

Tomorrow was the day of Joan's party which Win, in particular, had been looking forward to for the past week.

'Oh, I'm not going to wear anything special, Fred.'

'I thought you got yourself a nice new frock for it.' Thursday was surprised to hear his wife play down the occasion so much after the fuss she had made after they got the invitation when Fred was highly dubious about whether Joan would really want them to go.

'I did. But we're only going to be there for an hour or two, aren't we? You said yourself, Joan won't want us hanging around all evening. She'll want to really enjoy herself with all her friends and you can't do that with your parents standing in the background watching you.'

That was true enough, thought Fred. He had indeed said as much himself, as he recalled. But as the days had drawn ever nearer, he had realised that he was looking forward to it more than he thought he would. He was curious to see what the flat looked like. Win had been there once or twice already and had done her best to describe the place to him but there was nothing like seeing something for yourself with your own two eyes. He hoped it was an improvement on the dingy, depressing little flat she had lived in for a while in Leamington. But then in all probability his bad memories of the flat in Leamington were coloured by and damned by association with the terrible relationship she had got herself into with a married man. As far as he was aware she was currently single, but sharing the new flat with friends so that sounded altogether more optimistic and safe.

'Besides,' Win added as an afterthought, 'We won't know anyone there, will we? We won't want to stay too long.'

'Well, Morse will be there, love,' Fred reminded his wife.

'I don't expect Morse will want to spend time chatting to us old fogeys, Fred. He'll want to be with people his own age.' She turned to look at her husband with a puzzled look in her eyes. 'Doesn't he see enough of you at work?'

'I think Jim Strange is going too.'

'That's even worse!' cried Win in horror. 'He shares a house with him. He sees him all the time. No wonder the poor lad can't find a girl to take his mind off work. He never gets to meet anyone new!'

'I'm sure he will one day, love. Only a matter of time. Someone will walk into his life when he least expects it and turn it all upside down. You mark my words.'

Win looked at Fred dubiously. She hoped he was right, but she felt desperately sorry for Morse. He had always cut a rather sad, lonely figure to her mind in spite of him being such a polite, caring and kind person. He needed a nice girl to take care of him and look after him, but such a possibility seemed a long way off happening to her way of thinking. Still, maybe he might meet someone at Joan's party if he could prise himself away from his colleagues for long enough.

Part 3

The pub was full to bursting as the time approached a quarter to eight, with the quiz all set to kick off at eight o'clock on the dot. Strange was sat in the corner at a table comfortably housing six people, while Fancy and Trewlove were at the bar getting in the first round of drinks. Strange was a stickler for good preparation when it came to general knowledge quizzes so he was busy making sure there were enough pens or pencils for everyone, that there was a stack of rough paper on the table which his teammates could help themselves to for scribbling down questions or possible answers and that the team name was written down on every answer sheet.

When Fancy and Trewlove came back with the drinks, Strange was just putting the finishing touches to the pre-quiz preparations and Trewlove couldn't help but smile to see Strange being so organised and thorough, almost to the point of obsession.

'I'm impressed with your organisation, Jim,' she said, beaming at Strange and her eyes seemed to be twinkling mischievously at the burly copper who wasn't entirely sure if she was paying him a genuine compliment or taking the piss out of him.

'Well, my old training instructor at police college always used to say, 'Fail to prepare, then prepare to fail,' he replied, 'and I've never forgotten it.'

'If we don't win tonight, it certainly won't be through lack of preparation at least,' remarked Trewlove, noting with approval the now neatly stacked piles of scrap paper in the middle of the table, the pens and pencils meticulously placed in front of everyone and the team's answer sheets placed in front of himself, ready to be brought into play once the quiz started.

'Aren't there supposed to be more of us?' asked Fancy, a puzzled look on his face. 'I thought we had a team of four or five.'

'Doctor DeBryn's coming. He should be here any minute now,' said Strange, looking at his watch a touch nervously. The good doctor was cutting it a little fine, he thought, but he had never let them down before and Strange was quietly confident the doctor would join them in time for the start.

'Is it general knowledge each round or does each round have a different theme?' asked Trewlove. It was her first appearance turning out for the Cowley station pub quiz team, so she was curious to find out the usual format of this pub's quiz nights.

'Depends who's setting the questions, usually,' Strange explained. 'Some quizmasters don't like to put in a huge amount of effort so just go for blanket general knowledge each round. Others like to be a bit more imaginative and inject a little variety into the evening, so they choose different subjects for each round. Also, some quizmasters like to give teams a joker to play, others don't.'

'So, who's the quizmaster tonight?' asked Fancy, looking around the pub to see if he could spot who was in charge that evening.

'It's Colin Harvey,' said Strange with a bit of a chuckle. 'He likes to have a bit of fun with us all. There'll be different themes each round, but you can guarantee there'll be a few odd twists thrown in to knock us out of our stride.'

'Sounds like it should be fun,' said Trewlove laughing as she sipped her vodka and orange. 'I'm really looking forward to it.'

'Oh, it's always a good evening, Shirl, win or lose, I promise you that. Though it's more fun when you win.'

Trewlove nodded. She could imagine Jim being extremely competitive and quite possibly being a bit of a sore loser on the quiet so she was hoping she would be able to make some sort of contribution to the team effort and not just sit there all evening looking like a spare part. She wasn't going to stand for being the drinks waitress. She had brains and intelligence and it was time that other people realised that if they didn't already. Her general knowledge was fairly strong, so she was quietly confident that she would prove to be a valuable member of the team.

Fancy, on the other hand, was wondering what he might have got himself into. His knowledge of core quiz subjects like history, geography and literature was shaky at best, if not downright fragile but he was pretty knowledgeable on things like sport and TV & films, so he was hopeful of providing a few answers from time to time to justify his presence on the team. He just wished that Shirley would start talking to him again since she had barely said a word to him all evening so far. Doubtless she was still angry with him for the incident in Morse's room although he had been able to breathe a bit more easily in that regard as Morse had seemingly noticed nothing amiss in his room and he hadn't brought up the matter back in the house before they all left for the quiz.

Just as Strange was beginning to get rather concerned at Dr DeBryn's absence, in walked the good doctor to the relief of Strange who invited him to sit down at the table while he popped off to the bar to get him a drink. 'Your usual pint of Best, Doc?' he enquired to which Max DeBryn nodded in grateful thanks.

'Well, look who we have here!' said DeBryn with a big welcoming smile. 'We've got the A team out tonight. Jim must be really keen to pull off a win. DC Fancy and WPC Trewlove. How lucky are we!'

Trewlove smiled at the doctor with a touch of nervous giggling. She was sure he didn't have a clue how good either of them might be at quizzes but Doctor DeBryn was politeness and respect personified at all times and she liked him immensely.

'I'm not sure about that, Doctor. But we'll do our best to chip in with the odd answer.'

'It's a pleasure to have you on the team, my dear. You two youngsters can only make our team stronger, particularly when it comes to the youth culture questions. I always struggle with those, being as prehistorically ancient as I am.'

Normally Trewlove would have bristled with barely concealed indignation if someone had called her 'my dear' but she took no offence whatsoever since it came from the good doctor. She knew he meant it as a wholly innocent term of endearment only, without any intention of being patronising or disrespectful. 'I'm sure that's not true, Doctor. You're as old as you feel, surely.'

'Oh indeed, that's the problem,' said DeBryn with a cheeky wink and a grin which made Trewlove laugh. Jim Strange returned at that moment with DeBryn's pint and the four of them settled down to look forward to what they hoped would be a very enjoyable evening's entertainment.

Part 4

It was a cool, yet still pleasant evening when Morse and Veronica came out of the Odeon cinema at the end of the film. They strolled down the road side by side and exchanged easy, relaxed conversation as they skilfully dodged the other revellers going to or coming from their own evening's entertainment.

'That was a wonderful film,' said Veronica as she turned to smile at Morse who smiled warmly back. 'I've really enjoyed this evening.'

'Yes, it was a good film, I have to admit,' said Morse.

'I get the impression you don't go to the pictures very often,' said Veronica perceptively, hoping he wouldn't be offended by her presumption.

'No, I don't, you're right,' said Morse with a wry grin. 'I'm more of an opera man, myself.'

'Really?' said Veronica, her eyes wide open in surprise. 'I would never have guessed that. Do you go often?'

'When I can, if I can get hold of a ticket.'

Veronica was quick to seize upon the one word that was of particular interest to her. 'A ticket? You mean you go on your own? Don't you have anyone to go with you? A girlfriend, perhaps?'

Morse shook his head and came near to blushing. 'No girlfriend. No anyone, really. I don't know anyone who likes opera.'

'Poor you! How sad. Well, at least you didn't have to see the film tonight on your own. That would have been too tragic for words.'

Morse couldn't help laughing at Veronica's oh so serious face as she passed innocent judgement on his loneliness and isolation. 'I don't mind,' he said, truthfully. 'I'm used to it. I tend to spend most of my life on my own. When I'm not working, that is.'

'Well, I'm really glad you asked me to go with you to the pictures tonight. I hope you enjoyed my company. I definitely enjoyed yours.' She smiled at Morse so warmly and genuinely that he had a rapid change of heart. He had been planning to see Veronica home and then return to base himself straight after, but a plan quickly formed in his head which surprised even himself at its boldness.

'Well, the night's still young,' he said, his eyes full of hope and optimism. 'I've got half a bottle of Scotch in my room back home…..and two empty glasses, if you're interested.'

'Do you know what? I think I just might be,' said Veronica. 'You said in your room. Do you not live alone?'

Morse shook his head. 'No, I share a house with a colleague…. well, two colleagues, actually but that's only a temporary arrangement.' He gave Veronica a brief synopsis of Fancy's assault and his temporary lodging with him and Strange. She expressed her shock at the attack on Fancy and told him he and Strange were ever so kind to offer Fancy a bed for a few nights while he recovered. This made Morse feel terribly uncomfortable inside, remembering how less than ecstatic he had been when Strange made the offer without bothering to consult him for his opinion. He didn't deserve her unequivocal approval and he inwardly hung his head in shame.

'Won't your house mates be there?' she asked. Morse sensed she might not be up for being paraded in front of Strange and Fancy as 'the new girlfriend', but he quickly sought to put her mind at rest. 'They won't be back yet. We'll have the place to ourselves… for a good while, anyway.'

'Why? Where are they?'

'Pub quiz night,' said Morse, pulling a slightly dismissive face.

Veronica laughed her head off at Morse's reaction. 'Oh dear, not your thing, are they?'

'Not exactly,' said Morse, letting out the tiniest of sheepish grins. 'I'm not a competitive sort of person, really. I've never really understood the point of it all.'

'I bet you're not a fan of board games either, are you? Not into draughts, cribbage, scrabble?' Veronica looked up at Morse with wide-eyed sympathy and compassion and Morse began to feel his heart melting just a little under this relentless bombardment of niceness and pleasantness on her part.

He shook his head. 'I like the occasional game of chess,' he offered by way of a consolation.

'Why doesn't that surprise me?' Veronica giggled as they arrived back at Morse's car where he had parked it earlier in the evening.

'Do you fancy that drink, then?' he asked a little hesitantly, not entirely sure if she had given her one hundred per cent approval to his suggestion.'

'Lead the way, Sergeant,' she said with a nod. 'I think you'd better take me in for some more questioning, don't you?' she laughed heartily, and Morse couldn't help laughing along with her as he politely opened the passenger door to let her into the car.

Part 5

'The next round is on TV and Films,' announced the quizmaster, needing to raise his voice a little above the general hubbub and murmur of the patrons in order to make himself heard.

'Thank God,' cried Fancy with a sigh of relief. 'At last, a subject I might know a few answers to!'

'You've done OK, George,' said Strange in an attempt to boost Fancy's dwindling self-confidence. 'You did alright on the sport round, remember. You knew quite a few of the answers.'

'Yes,' said Fancy, grudgingly acknowledging that he held his own on that round. 'But you knew all the ones I knew the answers to also. It would have been nice to be the only one to know an answer, just for once.'

'Well, maybe your moment will come now, if you're strong on film and TV,' said Dr DeBryn kindly. 'You can never tell when your moment to shine will come along. This could be your 'piece de resistance', your crowning glory, George.'

Fancy hoped the Doc and Jim were right. He had felt utterly overshadowed by his three teammates so far, with all of them contributing a lot of correct answers while he was only of some use during the round on sport where he felt slightly more within his admittedly limited comfort zone. He was in awe of the extent of knowledge of Doctor de Bryn and Jim Strange was no slouch either when it came to knowing lots of useless bits of information. Trewlove had proved her worth to the team with a storming display in the round on Art & Literature and she still had a music round to look forward to, one of her special general knowledge strengths. Fancy still felt like nothing more than a spare part, a cheerleader at best while his colleagues took all the plaudits and he was reduced to a supporting role of applauding, backslapping and general whooping and punching the air in a display of undeserved shared triumph.

'Which 1927 feature film was the world's first talking film or 'talkie'?' was the first question posed by the quizmaster. Fancy groaned in frustration and disbelief. Just his luck that the first film question asked related to a film forty years ago! Strange looked blankly at Trewlove who returned his gaze with a puzzled expression of her own while DeBryn leant back in his chair and closed his eyes in deep concentration, seemingly trying to drag the information out of the darkest recesses of his memory. The doctor suddenly leaned forward towards the other three and whispered, 'The Jazz Singer.' Jim Strange let out a cry of approbation, nodded furiously at a smiling DeBryn and wrote the answer down on the answer sheet. 'Well done, Doc. It was buried deep in my mind, but it just wasn't coming out.'

Trewlove smiled in admiration at the doctor who modestly declined the praise being showered on him by the others. 'I'm sure Jim would have got there in the end.'

'Question two!' The four of them stopped talking and congratulating each other and listened intently to the next question. 'Well, nobody's perfect!' is the last line in which Oscar-nominated movie?'

'I know this!' Fancy almost jumped out of his chair as he shouted to the other three, causing much laughter from the tables around them and making Fancy turn red with embarrassment. 'Let's write down what we all think the answer is and compare notes,' suggested Strange, whereupon all four hastily scribbled their answer down on a rough piece of paper. They held up their respective pieces of paper towards each other and Fancy could see that all four of them had written down the same answer, 'Some like it Hot.'

'Oh, bloody hell' protested Fancy with yet another groan of frustration.

'it's OK, George,' Strange reassured the young man with a sympathetic pat on his shoulder. 'You've got it right. What are you worrying about?'

'I wanted to be the only one who knew the answer, Jim,' replied Fancy, rolling his eyes and looking quite fed up.

'We're not competing against each other, George,' Trewlove piped up, amongst the first words she had addressed directly at Fancy all evening, a fact that had not passed unnoticed by Strange and DeBryn. 'We're competing against the other teams. It doesn't matter who get the right answer among us as long as someone does.'

Fancy let out a small sigh. 'Yes, you're right, Shirley. I know. It would just be nice, once in a while…' his voice tailed off and he tried to refocus on the next question and stop feeling sorry for himself when it wasn't really necessary or indeed helpful for the team.

At around the same time as his colleagues were getting stuck in to the pub quiz and fighting hard at the top of the quiz table, Morse was lying on his bed with Veronica, each with a large scotch in their hands, gazing into her wide, smiling eyes, wondering if he would be seriously overstepping the mark and misreading the signs if he leaned forward and kissed her. He tossed the idea around in his head for a few moments. She hadn't resisted or put up any form of protest when he suggested they lie down on the bed together and she had gradually moved closer to him over the past five minutes as they lay there talking.

He made a sudden decision to just go for it and was pleasantly surprised when she readily responded to him moving his face close to hers and kissed him back softly and sweetly. For some unknown reason, the expression 'This could be the start of a beautiful friendship,' came into his head as they kissed again. This second kiss was even more enjoyable than the first as he felt Veronica lay a hand on his shoulder and breathe more heavily. He wondered if he should ask her to stay the night or whether he would be well advised to just see how things progressed without getting too far ahead of himself which had often been his downfall in the past. He decided discretion would be the better part of valour at this early stage. He didn't want to frighten her off at the very moment he was beginning to really enjoy himself. He reckoned they still had plenty of time before the others returned. No need to blunder in recklessly, he thought. Let her dictate the pace of things. He would go with the flow and see how far she wanted to go.