Chapter 8
"I grew up in Liverpool as the youngest of three brothers. I idolised my two older brothers, Mike and Jim. Even though I was the youngest, they still let me go along with them, and treated me as an equal. The three of us were mad, bad and dangerous to know. No one messed with the Boulton brothers.
"Mam and da both worked, my mam was a nurse and my da was a car mechanic. We lived in row houses, on the corner, so our garden was a bit bigger than everyone else's. We weren't poor, we were better off than most, actually, however we weren't, by any stretch of the imagination, rich. We went to the local school which was at the end of the road. We knew everyone, and everyone knew us, by name or by reputation. It was a lot of fun, growing up like that.
June could almost picture in her head three flame-haired little boys, as hard as nails, causing trouble and mayhem wherever they went. She smiled inwardly to herself.
John continued, "Mam worked shifts, obviously. Dad was more regular hours, but he was on emergency standby. Us boys were left to our own devices quite often. It didn't bother us, though. We could charm the suppers out of our mate's mothers, and even though both parents worked, we knew we were loved.
"It started when Mike and then Jim went on to comprehensive but I was still in primary for two more years. We weren't together as much anymore, as the comprehensive was a mile away, and they got the bus to school. Because Mike was older than Jim, he was there first, and made lots of friends. When Jim came along, Mike didn't really have time for him because, by now, Mike's friends were more important to him than his two little brothers. It was hard on me, as I was used to having Mike and Jim around to help me fight my battles. Me on my own, I was vulnerable and had to learn to defend myself from school bullies, which I was more than capable of doing. I started to make friends as well, with people in my own classes. Jim, on the other hand, never quite fit in. Mike and I were moving on, making friends and becoming our own people, but Jim wanted it to be just the three of us again. He started hanging out with some dodgy characters, who would smoke and drink, and occasionally shoplift from the local stores. Mam and dad were going spare. They couldn't figure out why Jim was always in trouble, while Mike and I stayed relatively alright. Jim became more sullen and withdrawn from the rest of us. Mike and I both tried to speak to him but, by now, he wanted no part of either of us.
"Mike had his own room, but Jim and I shared a room. One day I was looking for one of my schoolbooks when I came across a bag of marijuana. I had a pretty good idea what it was, and I presumed it was Jim's. I asked him about it and he lashed out at me, telling me to mind my own business and stop going through his stuff. We got into a punch up. Mike heard the noises from the bedroom and came to investigate. Jim had me on the ground and was pummelling me. Out of the three of us, Mike was the biggest and strongest. He grabbed Jim and threw him off of me. Mike took the drugs and flushed them down the loo. Nothing more was said of the incident, and of course we didn't tell mam and dad, but we knew that Jim was in serious trouble. We had no idea how to help him, and couldn't approach him.
"Shortly after that incident Mike and I followed Jim after school one day. We saw him and his friends smoking and drinking. They had some spray cans and painted graffiti along the side of the school. One of the guys lit up a joint and they were passing it around. We knew what it was because we smelled the weed. They sat down in the grass behind the school and passed joints. Some girls came up and joined them. Mike and I gave up and went home after a while, as they didn't seem to be doing anything else.
"That night, Jim didn't come home until late. This wasn't unusual. However, around 12:30 at night, we had a knock at the door. Apparently, a gang of youths had vandalised the school, and someone fitting Jim's description was seen leaving the scene of the crime. They took Jim away for questioning, however one of the girls he hung around with gave him and alibi, saying that Jim was over her house at the alleged time of the crime.
"When Jim was 16 he dropped out of school. He said that school was for 'idiots' like Mike and I. Jim claimed he had the 'real answer to making money' and it wasn't in some arsing schoolbook. By now, mam and dad had pretty much washed their hands clean of Jim. No one could do anything with him. He packed up and moved out one day, while Mike and I were at sixth form. None of us had any idea where he went.
"Shortly after that, Jim was arrested for trying to sell drugs. Because he was a minor, he was imprisoned for three years. It wasn't long after he got out that he died, of a drug overdose. It was when Jim died that I decided I wanted to be a policeman, to stop people like Jim from hurting others, and from turning more people into dealers and users. For me, nothing is more satisfying than putting a dealer away. I couldn't stop my brother, but I can stop others from turning out like him."
It was obvious that this memory gave John a lot of pain. June poured him some more wine, and took his hand.
"John, you use that pain as your weapon. In your line of work, it is your greatest asset. That is your drive, your determination. But it is also your downfall. You are so used to anger and pain, that you don't know how to handle pleasure when it comes along. It throws you for a loop, makes your mind stop working as you want it to. There are two sides to John Boulton, the hard angry tough copper and the vulnerable side. You're afraid to love, but your heart embraces it in spite of yourself. You need to be gentler to yourself, and realise that Jim's problems were through no fault of your own. The fact that you moved on with your life, as did Mike, were completely normal actions when kids are growing up apart. Your close brotherly bond was shattered by the inevitable passing of time. There was nothing you could have done to change what happened. You are not responsible for Jim. You are responsible for John.
"Everyone goes their own way, and so they should. Don't be afraid to make friends with those around you, or to be close to people. Keep that anger and fire reserved for when it's necessary, but it doesn't have to be the only aspect of yourself. Let the world see you for who you really are, beneath the pain and anger. I think you'll be surprised at yourself, and your mind will be better suited for your police work."
He looked at her, sipping his wine. She made a lot of sense. Still, he felt uncomfortable by her insight, which was proving to be closer to the mark than what he anticipated. He decided to deflect the sombre mood with a joke.
"I didn't know you brought me back here to psychoanalyse me, June," John said with a smile.
"I didn't. The main point I want to make is that, I know you have feelings for me, but hold onto that anger, now more than ever. I'm just a colleague. I'm the same to you as Kerry Holmes or Cass Rickman. I work alongside you. If it would make it any easier for you, I'll start to find new and exciting ways to annoy you."
John suppressed a laugh.
"That won't be necessary. You're already annoying enough, in your own special way."
"Aw, gee, John. I can take everything else you throw at me, but when you break out the complements, I start to go weak in the knees!" June fanned herself with her hand, and acted like she was going to faint.
"Oi you! Stoppit!"
"You stop it!"
John grabbed a pillow and lobbed it at her. She caught it and used it to whack him over his head. Soon enough they had fallen off of the couch and onto the floor, whacking each other with pillows, almost out of breath from laughing. June tumbled backwards and John rolled on top of her, pinning her arms to the floor.
"Ok, DS Boulton, you've got your prisoner, what are you going to do with her?" June asked.
John looked down at her. June's hair was tousled and messed up, and she still had on remnants of the tart makeup she wore for the obbo. She looked as sexy now as she did during the day, when she was all business suits and sensible hair. He ran his hand along her cheek and looked deep in her eyes.
The tension between them was almost unbearable. They both knew what was going to happen, as much as they both tried to fight it.
"We shouldn't be doing this. It's not right," June said softly.
"I know it's not right, but you can't deny that it feels that way." John smiled at her. The sight of his eyes crinkling at the sides, shining with his warm smile was too much for June. She embraced him, and they melted together in a passionate kiss.
"Whatever happens tonight, John, tomorrow.." June whispered in his ear as he kissed her neck, softly.
John pulled away from her slightly so he could look in her eyes. "Let tomorrow take care of itself, tonight is ours."
The candlelight flickered from the candelabra on top of the piano. A warm breeze blew in from the open window, as June and John, individually, found true happiness for the first time in ages, within each other.
* * *
Very early the next morning, John woke up with a start. He was disorientated, not recognising his surroundings in the twilight. He felt someone next to him, warm, breathing softly, mumbling incomprehensible babble. The events of the night before, confusing and wonderful within themselves, came flooding back to him. He smiled to himself, and slid back under the warm blankets. John put a protective arm around June, and managed to drift back to sleep, happy and contented.
John woke up to a steaming hot cup of black coffee, and two large green eyes staring at him. He almost screamed, but then remembered, again, where he was, and what he was doing there.
June giggled at his obvious confusion. "Morning, sleepyhead. Sleep well?"
John stifled a yawn and rubbed the grogginess from his eyes. "First bit of decent sleep I've had in ages." He smiled at her. Even in the morning she looked sexy, wearing a long men's shirt, hair tied back in a loose ponytail.
"Same here, to be perfectly honest. Which, I think, speaks volumes for the both of us." June smiled at John and sipped her tea.
John stretched his well-muscled arms and picked up his coffee.
June sat on the floor and started doing yoga stretches. She caught John staring at her out of the corner of her eye.
"It's the only exercise I have time for. I find it helps somewhat."
"I see," he said with a big grin. "Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all. What can you do?"
John laid down next to her on the floor and started doing push-ups. "When I was a kid my record was 100."
"Oh, very impressive. What's your record now?"
"15-20 on a good day."
"Beats me, I doubt I could even do one."
They finished exercising in silence, the only sound coming from John's panting from exertion, and June's controlled breathing.
June got off of the floor and sat on the bed. "John we need to talk about last night."
"What about it?" He sat next to her, nuzzling her neck and kissing her cheek.
June gently pushed him away.
"Last night was not what I wanted to happen. I don't regret it, but we've got to maintain a professional relationship, first and foremost. I like you John, I really truly do, but I have too much to risk by getting involved with you seriously. Besides, I'm not over Thomas, I don't know when I ever will be. I can't deal with a serious relationship. Do you understand?"
All John could think of was going for a shower. After all, he was sweaty after his exercise. So was she.
"What was the question?"
"John I'm serious! Listen to me. That was a one-night thing. I can't do that again. It's hard enough to focus on the case without getting clouded emotions. I won't be worrying about losing another person whom I love to Escoverda. I am not going to lose another lover in the line of duty. Not on one of my operations. Is that understood?"
John sighed. She was back to business again. "Yes June. I understand."
"Good. Hit the shower and get some kit on. We've got a big day ahead of us."
"I grew up in Liverpool as the youngest of three brothers. I idolised my two older brothers, Mike and Jim. Even though I was the youngest, they still let me go along with them, and treated me as an equal. The three of us were mad, bad and dangerous to know. No one messed with the Boulton brothers.
"Mam and da both worked, my mam was a nurse and my da was a car mechanic. We lived in row houses, on the corner, so our garden was a bit bigger than everyone else's. We weren't poor, we were better off than most, actually, however we weren't, by any stretch of the imagination, rich. We went to the local school which was at the end of the road. We knew everyone, and everyone knew us, by name or by reputation. It was a lot of fun, growing up like that.
June could almost picture in her head three flame-haired little boys, as hard as nails, causing trouble and mayhem wherever they went. She smiled inwardly to herself.
John continued, "Mam worked shifts, obviously. Dad was more regular hours, but he was on emergency standby. Us boys were left to our own devices quite often. It didn't bother us, though. We could charm the suppers out of our mate's mothers, and even though both parents worked, we knew we were loved.
"It started when Mike and then Jim went on to comprehensive but I was still in primary for two more years. We weren't together as much anymore, as the comprehensive was a mile away, and they got the bus to school. Because Mike was older than Jim, he was there first, and made lots of friends. When Jim came along, Mike didn't really have time for him because, by now, Mike's friends were more important to him than his two little brothers. It was hard on me, as I was used to having Mike and Jim around to help me fight my battles. Me on my own, I was vulnerable and had to learn to defend myself from school bullies, which I was more than capable of doing. I started to make friends as well, with people in my own classes. Jim, on the other hand, never quite fit in. Mike and I were moving on, making friends and becoming our own people, but Jim wanted it to be just the three of us again. He started hanging out with some dodgy characters, who would smoke and drink, and occasionally shoplift from the local stores. Mam and dad were going spare. They couldn't figure out why Jim was always in trouble, while Mike and I stayed relatively alright. Jim became more sullen and withdrawn from the rest of us. Mike and I both tried to speak to him but, by now, he wanted no part of either of us.
"Mike had his own room, but Jim and I shared a room. One day I was looking for one of my schoolbooks when I came across a bag of marijuana. I had a pretty good idea what it was, and I presumed it was Jim's. I asked him about it and he lashed out at me, telling me to mind my own business and stop going through his stuff. We got into a punch up. Mike heard the noises from the bedroom and came to investigate. Jim had me on the ground and was pummelling me. Out of the three of us, Mike was the biggest and strongest. He grabbed Jim and threw him off of me. Mike took the drugs and flushed them down the loo. Nothing more was said of the incident, and of course we didn't tell mam and dad, but we knew that Jim was in serious trouble. We had no idea how to help him, and couldn't approach him.
"Shortly after that incident Mike and I followed Jim after school one day. We saw him and his friends smoking and drinking. They had some spray cans and painted graffiti along the side of the school. One of the guys lit up a joint and they were passing it around. We knew what it was because we smelled the weed. They sat down in the grass behind the school and passed joints. Some girls came up and joined them. Mike and I gave up and went home after a while, as they didn't seem to be doing anything else.
"That night, Jim didn't come home until late. This wasn't unusual. However, around 12:30 at night, we had a knock at the door. Apparently, a gang of youths had vandalised the school, and someone fitting Jim's description was seen leaving the scene of the crime. They took Jim away for questioning, however one of the girls he hung around with gave him and alibi, saying that Jim was over her house at the alleged time of the crime.
"When Jim was 16 he dropped out of school. He said that school was for 'idiots' like Mike and I. Jim claimed he had the 'real answer to making money' and it wasn't in some arsing schoolbook. By now, mam and dad had pretty much washed their hands clean of Jim. No one could do anything with him. He packed up and moved out one day, while Mike and I were at sixth form. None of us had any idea where he went.
"Shortly after that, Jim was arrested for trying to sell drugs. Because he was a minor, he was imprisoned for three years. It wasn't long after he got out that he died, of a drug overdose. It was when Jim died that I decided I wanted to be a policeman, to stop people like Jim from hurting others, and from turning more people into dealers and users. For me, nothing is more satisfying than putting a dealer away. I couldn't stop my brother, but I can stop others from turning out like him."
It was obvious that this memory gave John a lot of pain. June poured him some more wine, and took his hand.
"John, you use that pain as your weapon. In your line of work, it is your greatest asset. That is your drive, your determination. But it is also your downfall. You are so used to anger and pain, that you don't know how to handle pleasure when it comes along. It throws you for a loop, makes your mind stop working as you want it to. There are two sides to John Boulton, the hard angry tough copper and the vulnerable side. You're afraid to love, but your heart embraces it in spite of yourself. You need to be gentler to yourself, and realise that Jim's problems were through no fault of your own. The fact that you moved on with your life, as did Mike, were completely normal actions when kids are growing up apart. Your close brotherly bond was shattered by the inevitable passing of time. There was nothing you could have done to change what happened. You are not responsible for Jim. You are responsible for John.
"Everyone goes their own way, and so they should. Don't be afraid to make friends with those around you, or to be close to people. Keep that anger and fire reserved for when it's necessary, but it doesn't have to be the only aspect of yourself. Let the world see you for who you really are, beneath the pain and anger. I think you'll be surprised at yourself, and your mind will be better suited for your police work."
He looked at her, sipping his wine. She made a lot of sense. Still, he felt uncomfortable by her insight, which was proving to be closer to the mark than what he anticipated. He decided to deflect the sombre mood with a joke.
"I didn't know you brought me back here to psychoanalyse me, June," John said with a smile.
"I didn't. The main point I want to make is that, I know you have feelings for me, but hold onto that anger, now more than ever. I'm just a colleague. I'm the same to you as Kerry Holmes or Cass Rickman. I work alongside you. If it would make it any easier for you, I'll start to find new and exciting ways to annoy you."
John suppressed a laugh.
"That won't be necessary. You're already annoying enough, in your own special way."
"Aw, gee, John. I can take everything else you throw at me, but when you break out the complements, I start to go weak in the knees!" June fanned herself with her hand, and acted like she was going to faint.
"Oi you! Stoppit!"
"You stop it!"
John grabbed a pillow and lobbed it at her. She caught it and used it to whack him over his head. Soon enough they had fallen off of the couch and onto the floor, whacking each other with pillows, almost out of breath from laughing. June tumbled backwards and John rolled on top of her, pinning her arms to the floor.
"Ok, DS Boulton, you've got your prisoner, what are you going to do with her?" June asked.
John looked down at her. June's hair was tousled and messed up, and she still had on remnants of the tart makeup she wore for the obbo. She looked as sexy now as she did during the day, when she was all business suits and sensible hair. He ran his hand along her cheek and looked deep in her eyes.
The tension between them was almost unbearable. They both knew what was going to happen, as much as they both tried to fight it.
"We shouldn't be doing this. It's not right," June said softly.
"I know it's not right, but you can't deny that it feels that way." John smiled at her. The sight of his eyes crinkling at the sides, shining with his warm smile was too much for June. She embraced him, and they melted together in a passionate kiss.
"Whatever happens tonight, John, tomorrow.." June whispered in his ear as he kissed her neck, softly.
John pulled away from her slightly so he could look in her eyes. "Let tomorrow take care of itself, tonight is ours."
The candlelight flickered from the candelabra on top of the piano. A warm breeze blew in from the open window, as June and John, individually, found true happiness for the first time in ages, within each other.
* * *
Very early the next morning, John woke up with a start. He was disorientated, not recognising his surroundings in the twilight. He felt someone next to him, warm, breathing softly, mumbling incomprehensible babble. The events of the night before, confusing and wonderful within themselves, came flooding back to him. He smiled to himself, and slid back under the warm blankets. John put a protective arm around June, and managed to drift back to sleep, happy and contented.
John woke up to a steaming hot cup of black coffee, and two large green eyes staring at him. He almost screamed, but then remembered, again, where he was, and what he was doing there.
June giggled at his obvious confusion. "Morning, sleepyhead. Sleep well?"
John stifled a yawn and rubbed the grogginess from his eyes. "First bit of decent sleep I've had in ages." He smiled at her. Even in the morning she looked sexy, wearing a long men's shirt, hair tied back in a loose ponytail.
"Same here, to be perfectly honest. Which, I think, speaks volumes for the both of us." June smiled at John and sipped her tea.
John stretched his well-muscled arms and picked up his coffee.
June sat on the floor and started doing yoga stretches. She caught John staring at her out of the corner of her eye.
"It's the only exercise I have time for. I find it helps somewhat."
"I see," he said with a big grin. "Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all. What can you do?"
John laid down next to her on the floor and started doing push-ups. "When I was a kid my record was 100."
"Oh, very impressive. What's your record now?"
"15-20 on a good day."
"Beats me, I doubt I could even do one."
They finished exercising in silence, the only sound coming from John's panting from exertion, and June's controlled breathing.
June got off of the floor and sat on the bed. "John we need to talk about last night."
"What about it?" He sat next to her, nuzzling her neck and kissing her cheek.
June gently pushed him away.
"Last night was not what I wanted to happen. I don't regret it, but we've got to maintain a professional relationship, first and foremost. I like you John, I really truly do, but I have too much to risk by getting involved with you seriously. Besides, I'm not over Thomas, I don't know when I ever will be. I can't deal with a serious relationship. Do you understand?"
All John could think of was going for a shower. After all, he was sweaty after his exercise. So was she.
"What was the question?"
"John I'm serious! Listen to me. That was a one-night thing. I can't do that again. It's hard enough to focus on the case without getting clouded emotions. I won't be worrying about losing another person whom I love to Escoverda. I am not going to lose another lover in the line of duty. Not on one of my operations. Is that understood?"
John sighed. She was back to business again. "Yes June. I understand."
"Good. Hit the shower and get some kit on. We've got a big day ahead of us."
