A few days off work allowed Sheelagh to immerse herself in the routine of home life. On the one hand, she appreciated it as a timely reminder of what she'd been risking by carrying on with Des. On the other, she wished she was swept up in a case at work, unable to stop and think and then too exhausted by the time she got home to do anything other than collapse in a heap. Sun Hill was safe at the moment after all. Des had taken emergency leave after their little altercation about him choosing his mates over her, appearing more cowardly than she had previously given him credit for. It was very much a case of having his fun then running away from it. The moment she'd realised that she'd felt crushed in two and the most natural place for her to turn to had been Samantha.
Turning up on her doorstep not once but twice while she'd been on leave wasn't something Sheelagh had expected to do. In fact, part of her felt rotten about doing it, but her feet had turned her in that direction, first when she'd discovered that Des had been bragging to Reg about sleeping with a married woman and then when he'd driven past her to spend time at the pub with his mates and Honey Harman.
Truth be told, her visits to that house had been the bright spots in the last few weeks of troubles. She appreciated the level of trust Sam had finally shown in her, explaining all about Glenn and why her instincts had been to try and keep the situation under control. That impulse in Samantha Nixon was probably her prevailing feature and, Sheelagh suspected, it was going to keep getting her into trouble. Even so, her motives in this case were fairly noble, if misguided. To think you could keep something like that under wraps forever was optimistic, especially when Abigail was indeed as headstrong as her mother. Equally, Sheelagh couldn't fathom how Sam had kept her secret for so many years. It explained quite a lot about how she held herself apart from other people and why she continually tried to erect barriers between herself and everyone else. Somehow, though, Sheelagh had infiltrated those walls and Sam's genuine remorse at keeping her in the dark had been welcome. She understood her motives now at least. It was fear – the fear of losing this odd friendship that had come to mean so much to them both. Sheelagh more than understood that. After all, it was the same reason she was still keeping her fling with Des from Sam.
It was one of those things she couldn't explain, particularly since Sam had mentioned one of her reasons for not telling her the truth about Glenn was because of how 'good' a person she was. Perhaps it was vanity but Sheelagh was desperate for Sam to keep a good opinion of her. Was this how it was for Sam, thinking Sheelagh would hate her because of mistakes she'd made in her past?
She wasn't in work the day Sam was due to return and she stifled her curiosity about how smoothly it had gone – at least on the surface. When she started her next shift she found herself coordinating DC Becker's drugs raid. There was a degree of pleasure in a job well done and it certainly took her mind off her troubles. Before she went home, though, she couldn't resist popping up to CID.
'Knock, knock,' she said, hesitating in the doorway of the DI's Office.
Sam glanced up, a warm smile settling on her face. 'Hey. Come in.'
She followed the instruction, closing the door behind her before sitting down. 'How are you enjoying being back?'
'It markedly improved in the last minute or so,' Sam retorted, stretching out. 'Heard you led the raid for Juliet and Mickey earlier. How did he seem to you?'
'Overwrought,' Sheelagh admitted. 'Anyone would be after losing their mother like that. He's doing his best to mask it but I'd keep an eye on him all the same.'
'Is Juliet keeping him in check?' Sam questioned.
'Doing her best,' replied Sheelagh with a smile. 'I feel like your spy.'
'Not my spy,' Sam said, 'just my...' After trailing off, she chuckled. 'Afraid I don't know what you are to be honest.'
Sheelagh relaxed back into her seat. 'Let's not poke that bear.'
After watching her for a moment, Sam asked, 'How have you been?'
It was perhaps one of Sam's best talents, weakening defences then probing with just the right – or wrong – question. It was a formidable tool in a detective's arsenal and Samantha Nixon was one of the most astute detectives Sheelagh had come across. That's why she shifted uneasily in her chair, knowing all the while that Sam was watching her every motion.
Abruptly, Sam went on, 'You look well anyway.'
It was a lie and Sheelagh knew it. When she'd caught sight of herself in the mirror in the last few days she'd been struck by how changed she was. Patrick hadn't noticed, of course, but Sam had spotted it probably the moment she opened the door to her the other week. She was curious, definitely, though the fact that she was pushing that curiosity aside was the more important thing.
'And how's Abi doing?' Sheelagh questioned.
'She's stopped walking on eggshells,' Sam replied. 'I'm taking that as a good sign. Even if I could do without the music blaring out of her room at all hours.'
'Ah,' said Sheelagh with a grin, 'your ears learn to tune it out, don't they? Declan's going through a heavy metal phase.'
Sam groaned. 'Lucky you.'
'Patrick claims he doesn't notice,' Sheelagh went on, shaking her head. 'Either he's going deaf in his old age or he's more laid-back than I realised when I married him.'
'Maybe a bit of both,' answered Sam.
Reluctantly, Sheelagh dragged herself to her feet. 'I should go. I'm in court tomorrow for an assault case.'
'Swap you for my paperwork,' Sam offered then winced. 'Actually, I don't hate you that much.'
'Good to know,' she returned. 'I'll see you tomorrow.'
'Night, Sheelagh.'
It was strange how a few minutes with Sam calmed her down. She managed to get through the night with only the odd twinge of guilt overtaking her. For the most part, she was learning to situate the Des debacle in the past, though she didn't know how that would hold up when he returned to work.
Her court appearance the next day was as riveting as she expected it to be but at least it kept her out of the station for a while. As soon as she got back she was coerced into relieving Smithy on custody and an influx of prisoners and paperwork kept her busy for the rest of the shift. It was with a degree of exhaustion that she walked to her office to check her desk for fresh reports before she went home.
She'd only just sat down when Sam appeared in the doorway, a curious expression on her face. Instantly intrigued, Sheelagh questioned, 'What's that look for?'
Sam glanced around then stepped inside. 'You know when you hear a rumour and it makes you feel faintly nauseous?'
Sheelagh stiffened, wondering if this was an elaborate attempt to interrogate her and if someone had said something about Des, but she realised a moment later that Sam wasn't about to play those games with her. So she cleared her throat and said, 'Around here, pretty frequently. What's happened?'
'Gary Best streaking around the station,' replied Sam.
Grimacing, Sheelagh tried to shake the image from her head. 'Thanks for that. Why?'
Sam shrugged. 'I was hoping you'd know.'
The conversation had caught the attention of Gina across the corridor. As she joined them Sheelagh felt the same slither of anxiety as she had every time she'd seen the inspector since her lecture about getting involved with Des. In a room with Sam, she felt even more exposed. She knew the friendship between these two was fairly unrestrained, though not nearly as unrestrained as her own relationship with Sam. Gina looked between them, weighing things up in her own indomitable manner.
'If you're talking about me seeing far more of PC Best than I ever wanted to then you're spot on,' she said after a few seconds.
Smothering her smile badly, Sam questioned, 'So he was aiming it at you, was he?'
Sheelagh snorted as Gina shuddered and muttered, 'I bloody well hope not, for his sake. Thought I was hallucinating for a minute. Stress of the job and all that. Anyway, I'll leave you to it,' she said briskly, sparing a glance for Sheelagh before she strode back to her own office.
Although she had obviously watched Gina's demeanour with interest, Sam didn't draw attention to it. Instead, she said, 'I'd better get going as well. Promised Abi I'd be home at something she calls a decent hour.'
'Lucky Abi,' Sheelagh replied. 'Enjoy yourselves.'
Sam stood still for a long moment then seemed to gather herself together. 'You enjoy your night, okay?'
Sheelagh watched her go then cast her eyes to the office across the corridor where Gina Gold was studying her. There was something more than friendly interest of a superior, perhaps something more in it than just knowledge of her relationship with Des. There was an expression on Gina's face that she hadn't seen before and she didn't quite know what it meant. Nor, really, was she eager to find out. If she could go back to keeping her work life professional then she'd be a lot happier. Then again, she conceded with a wry smile as she looked back to her paperwork, being friends with the DI wasn't exactly keeping her life compartmentalised, was it?
The next day she was stationed on custody for the duration, something she was pleased about given that she wasn't feeling at her best. Sometimes custody could be chaotic but this was a quiet day and she got more work done there than she suspected she would've in the confines of her own office. With the door closed in there she was more inclined to stare into space and dwell on the fact that Des was back at Sun Hill tomorrow and that she didn't know on earth she was going to deal with it.
She hadn't seen him since that night at the pub when she'd walked away after seeing where his priorities were. Though her head was telling her that her decision was made and that nothing Des Taviner did was going to change that, she knew she'd been here before. After all, her guiltiest moment in all this mess came from that moment when the Super had walked in on them, very nearly bringing Patrick through the door with him. Des's persistence had almost wrecked her marriage and, as she now realised, it was all just a conquest for him. Reg had pretty much confirmed that and yet she'd still let Des weasel his way back in. What was wrong with her?
There was a difference between being physically attracted to someone and being in love with them. Des had conflated the two, or at least he claimed he had. She didn't know how she'd been so naive as to believe it was anything more than a fling and, more to the point, she didn't want it to be. All she wanted was to forget the mistake she'd made and Des returning to work made that just a little bit harder.
She was contemplating a cup of tea to keep her brain active when she noticed Sam walking down the corridor towards the custody desk. She seemed hesitant – there was a reserved motion in her steps that Sheelagh wasn't used to seeing in DI Nixon.
Coming to the desk, Sam planted her elbows on it and massaged her forehead. 'I need a piece of evidence.'
Sheelagh nodded, gesturing round to the storeroom. Only once they were inside with the door shut did Sam show exactly how off-kilter she was. Pacing across the room, she spun back and tucked her hands behind her neck.
'What is it?' asked Sheelagh gently.
Sam met her eye. 'Do you remember Dr Owen Preston?'
'Of course,' Sheelagh said. 'Polly's friend – the one who killed himself because he was terminally ill. I was the senior officer on the scene afterwards.'
'Right,' Sam replied. 'I've only glanced at the reports so far. Well, his nephew's just been in. He thinks there's something fishy about the case.'
'Fishy?' Sheelagh repeated. 'I thought it was open and shut.'
Sighing, Sam sank into the chair behind the evidence desk. 'It was,' she said. 'It is, for all I know. It could be sour grapes,' she continued. 'I mean, he freely admitted that he was expecting to be the beneficiary of his uncle's will. That didn't happen.'
'What exactly is he saying?' Sheelagh pressed.
'That he finds it suspicious,' Sam said. 'This woman with no prior connection to his uncle comes into his life and a few months later he's dead and she's walking away with a hundred and fifty grand in her bank account.'
'To an outsider it might look odd,' she conceded, 'but Dr Preston was ill and Polly's a police officer. Has the nephew spoken to her?'
Sam nodded. 'Whether it was Polly's attitude that aroused his suspicions or whether he went in there determined to find something, I don't know. He thinks that she suggested she was with him when he died. I have to investigate,' she went on with a reluctant shrug. 'I have to give it credence, whatever I think.'
'Of course you do,' Sheelagh said. 'What's this evidence you need?'
'The syringe he used to administer the morphine. Here, I wrote down the number.'
Digging a piece of paper from her pocket, she handed it over. Sheelagh busied herself with locating the evidence bag and giving Sam a moment to herself. By the time she returned to log it in the book, a new worry had settled over Sam's face.
Sheelagh waited until they'd both signed before she asked, 'Are you okay?'
Sam managed a weak smile. 'Remember what I said to Debbie about her handling of Patrick's case and Brandon's?'
Cottoning on to her train of thought, Sheelagh said, 'This isn't the same thing at all. Debbie's motives were malicious. One look at you and anybody would know you're hardly enjoying yourself.'
'Not anybody,' Sam muttered. 'You, maybe.'
'There's no maybe about it,' returned Sheelagh. 'Listen, why not hand it over to Barton Street, let them investigate?'
'What message does that send?' asked Sam. 'The first whiff of trouble and I don't support our officers?'
'Well, that isn't true. Look at how you handled that complaint against Gemma Osbourne.'
Sam let out a chuckle. 'I didn't exactly do that by the book, did I?'
'No,' Sheelagh admitted, 'but you did investigate the matter very thoroughly. I can attest to that.' Pausing, she reached over and squeezed her wrist. 'I know what you're thinking. Polly's well-liked. You've had all this stuff with Abigail going on and you're worried people will think you're making capital out of a complaint against a fellow officer.'
Gazing at her incredulously, Sam asked, 'Have I got that tattooed in tiny writing on my forehead?'
'How else would I know?' she shot back.
'Very good point,' Sam answered. Turning her hand over, she clasped Sheelagh's fingers briefly then grasped the evidence bag. 'Thank you.'
'Don't mention it,' Sheelagh replied.
There was that usual moment before she opened the door when DI Nixon suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Sheelagh closed the log book and followed her out of the door, watching her stomp down the corridor and inwardly wincing for any unfortunate soul in CID who decided to get in her way until this Polly situation was resolved.
For her part, Sheelagh felt sure this nephew was looking for a convenient scapegoat for the loss of his inheritance. She'd seen Polly immediately after Dr Preston's death, right there at the scene, and her grief hadn't been manufactured. That was even supposing she was capable of whatever the nephew was accusing her of and Sheelagh didn't think that was possible. The investigation was safe in Sam's hands though, whether she doubted her own capabilities or not. Some DIs relished interrogating colleagues as much as DS McAllister did but Sam wasn't one of them, whatever other people in this nick might think.
Whenever Sheelagh felt her mind straying to Des's return that evening, she forced it back to the Polly situation. At least that gave her something to focus on, though she did feel a little guilty for subjecting a grieving colleague to such a thorough mental investigation. The distraction worked to an extent but when she walked into the station the next morning she was acutely aware of the fact that she might bump into Des around any corner. It made every muscle in her body clench until she was safely in the area car with Tony. They spent the morning chasing after a couple of burglars, finally bringing them in just in time for refs. While Tony parked himself with Gary and Reg, Sheelagh sat with her back to the door, hoping Des wouldn't make an appearance. If he did she wouldn't be able to see it and she buried her eyes into her coffee to make sure.
Abruptly, someone sat down in front of her. She jumped then relaxed as she saw that it was Sam.
'I didn't mean to startle you,' she said.
Sheelagh shook her head. 'I was miles away. How's it going?'
Glancing around to check nobody was eavesdropping, Sam said quietly, 'What we were talking about yesterday... I'm getting a horrible feeling about it, Sheelagh.'
'Oh, no,' she murmured. 'What's happened?'
'Polly came to see me,' she replied. 'I've seen too many people trying to act normally when they think they're under suspicion. She specifically asked me if Josh Preston had been in. It was a fishing trip.'
'Because he'd said he might?' Sheelagh suggested.
'Possibly,' Sam conceded with a shrug. 'But why the pretence? Why not just come right out and ask without beating around the bush?'
'Not everyone's you,' she reminded her. 'She's bound to be anxious if this Josh is accusing her of being involved in Dr Preston's death.'
'I know, I know,' muttered Sam, leaning back in her chair and casting her eyes around the canteen. 'I wish I could talk myself out of this, I really do. The syringe was on my desk. She saw it and she reacted. She was panicked and she tried to hide it, I didn't imagine that.'
'Sam,' she said softly, 'I wasn't saying you imagined anything. I trust your instincts. If you're telling me there's something wrong, I believe you.'
After holding her gaze for a few moments, Sam inclined her head. 'There's something wrong,' she admitted.
'Okay,' Sheelagh said. 'So what now? Have you spoken to the DCI or the Super?'
'I filled Jack in this morning,' Sam replied. 'I haven't spoken to him since Polly came to see me though. I've sent the syringe to be dusted for prints but it isn't a priority and I don't particularly want to fast-track it.'
Sheelagh smiled sympathetically. 'Then all you can do is wait and see.'
Knotting her fingers together, Sam exhaled. 'You're right, of course you're right.'
'I usually am,' she returned, earning herself a rueful grin.
They sat there in silence for a few moments until Tony cleared his throat beside them. 'Sarge?' he questioned. 'Ready to get going?'
She nodded and drained her cup. 'See you later, Guv,' she said as she stood.
Sam stifled her amusement, probably at the sudden formality. 'Thanks for your help, Sheelagh.'
The afternoon was uneventful but at least Tony was good company. There were definitely worse officers to be stuck in the area car with, though she felt a little uneasy knowing that he was a friend of Polly's. She meant what she'd said to Sam earlier – she did trust her instincts on things like this and she knew there was no venom involved. If there was substance to Josh Preston's allegations then it certainly wasn't what Sam wanted to uncover.
When she got back to the station she managed to skilfully avoid Des by hibernating in her office. That worked well until Smithy came to ask her to cover a couple of hours on CAD while he went on an obbo. She was about to refuse until he mentioned it was Des's obbo. That disarmed her to the extent that she found herself agreeing without actually realising it until he was halfway down the corridor. Then she had to drop Patrick a text letting him know she'd be a little later than she'd said. It was lucky she didn't expect a reply because she didn't get one.
Before going to take over in CAD, she stopped by the bathroom. As she was washing her hands, Sam came in.
'Gina said you were still here,' she said.
Sheelagh reached for a paper towel. 'I'm thinking of moving in,' she replied. 'What are you still doing here?'
Rubbing her eyes, Sam muttered, 'I'm not quite sure. It's been one of those days.' After checking the cubicles were empty, she went on, 'Can I ask you a question?'
'Of course,' she said.
'Off the record,' added Sam.
'How many of our conversations are on the record?' Sheelagh retorted.
Leaning back against the sink, Sam conceded that with a shrug. 'What's your opinion on Cathy Bradford?'
Sighing, Sheelagh crossed her arms. 'I can't say she's the most dependable copper I've ever worked with.'
'And?' Sam probed.
'I haven't personally had much to do with her,' she said. 'Polly has though, hasn't she?'
Sam chuckled. 'You're ahead of me again.'
'More like on your wavelength,' she countered. 'What's going on?'
'Jack suggested I speak to Cathy, see if there was anything else that might explain her unusual behaviour lately. You know,' she continued with a troubled expression, 'Cathy was as open as you'd like, telling me about Polly's grief and the way she'd tried to support her. And I didn't buy a word of it,' she concluded.
'What is it you think Polly did?' Sheelagh questioned after a moment of silence.
Pushing off from the sink, Sam crossed the small room and ran her fingers across the tiled walls. 'If you knew someone you loved was in terrible pain, wouldn't you want to help them?'
'So you think it was euthanasia?'
'Well, I don't think it was murder,' Sam said, turning back. 'But I think Cathy Bradford knows more than she's letting on and that makes me nervous.'
'Understandably,' Sheelagh said. 'You've sent the syringe off though. It's out of your hands.'
'I wish that made me feel better,' replied Sam. 'My gut tells me this isn't going to end well.'
Crossing the room, Sheelagh put a hand on her shoulder. 'You need to go home. There's nothing more you can do and Abi'll be glad to see you.'
'I know,' Sam said softly. 'What about you?'
'Oh, I'm covering CAD in...' She checked her watch. 'About three minutes ago. Don't tell anyone,' she added with a small smile.
'You'd better go before your superior officers find out.'
'They're terrible,' Sheelagh said. 'Especially the ones who don't have homes to go to.'
With one last look, she left Sam standing indecisively in the middle of the bathrooms. She could understand her unease; in fact, she shared it for the first twenty minutes of her shift on CAD. Thinking about a colleague being involved in a euthanasia case which could well lead to manslaughter or murder charges was enough to set anybody on edge. Then Smithy's obbo well and truly kicked off and Polly's predicament was knocked from her mind.
He announced over the radio that they were in pursuit of the area car which had had been stolen by the yobs they were trying to outwit. Des was driving to try and recover it but so far they were being outrun by a kid in a mask. Sheelagh could imagine Des's anger at the situation, even as she tried not to. She sent Honey to fetch Inspector Gold while she monitored the pursuit at her keyboard. As soon as Gina arrived with Superintendent Okaro she relinquished the headset, listening to a good proportion of the chase whilst trying to contain her wince from the sidelines. It took her a while to realise that Gina had brought a cigarette into the room which, given the recent implementation of a smoking ban on police premises, was inadvisable. As she took the headset back, Gina received a pointed look from the Super and extinguished her cigarette in Sheelagh's water. She didn't have time to think of an appropriate response before Smithy reported that they'd lost the area car and a stony silence settled over CAD. One thing was for sure – she wouldn't want to be in Des, Smithy or Kerry's shoes in the morning given the looks on the faces of their superior officers.
Of course, the nick was buzzing with gossip when she arrived the next day. How three experienced officers were fooled by a bunch of kids was something Sheelagh herself was struggling to get her head around, though she was at least wondering about it quietly. Her colleagues didn't have that delicacy and when she saw Gina heading for the canteen before the morning briefing she actually spun on her heel, willing to forego her coffee as long as she didn't get caught in another round of Inspector Gold's crossfire.
Fortunately, she wasn't needed at the briefing since she was covering the station today. However, as she headed in the opposite direction, she did catch her first glimpse of Des since his return from leave. He was stomping towards the briefing room, unkempt and irate. She was ashamed of how long her gaze lingered before she reminded herself to look away.
After liaising with CID on a couple of cases she was returning to her office when someone jogged up behind her. She knew who it was without looking.
'Sheelagh!' Des said.
'Sergeant Murphy to you,' she replied, keeping her footsteps steady.
'How are you doing?' he questioned.
'I'm fine,' she said. 'You're with Kerry today by the way.'
'Right.' He paused, as though he had the audacity to expect her to say something else. 'I was gonna call you while I was off but I thought you might put the phone down on us,' he went on.
She snorted. 'You thought right.'
'I missed you,' he said.
'As much as you missed your mates?' she returned before she could help herself. Then, since she'd allowed him to see that she was still thinking about what a fool he'd made of her, she drew to a halt and looked at him.
'I didn't think you were the type to hold a grudge,' he said.
'Des, I'm meant to be working,' she snapped. 'I don't even want this conversation.'
If only she'd started walking again then perhaps Gina wouldn't have zoned in on them as she barrelled through the nearby double doors.
'Sergeant Murphy?' she called.
Sheelagh winced at her tone. 'Yes, Ma'am?'
'My office,' Gina said. 'That's if you can tear yourself away from PC Taviner, come on.'
Glancing once more at Des, she followed the inspector into her office, wishing she could sink into the floor. Although she remained standing, Gina made it clear she was to sit down in the chair beside the door. Sacrificing height put her at even more of a disadvantage and she curled her toes in her shoes to brace herself.
'This station is not a courting ground,' said Gina finally. 'It is a place of work. Not somewhere to exchange love letters or sneak off for a quickie in the Sergeants' Office.'
Sheelagh looked up. 'I'm really sorry, Ma'am.'
'I warned you not to get involved with a PC,' Gina replied. 'Now give me one good reason why I shouldn't ask you to be transferred.'
She couldn't help it, she had to clamber to her feet and defend herself. 'All I can say is the job's more important,' she said.
Gina eyed her shrewdly. 'Than?'
'More important than PC Taviner,' she clarified. 'I've already ended the relationship,' she added.
As Gina paused, it seemed Sheelagh's words had struck a chord. 'For good?' she pressed.
'Yes, Ma'am,' she answered firmly. 'I want nothing more to do with him – ever.'
'You make sure it stays that way,' Gina said, yanking the door open for her then returning to her desk.
Sheelagh hesitated with one toe pointing towards the corridor. Somehow she wished she could explain to Gina and, more importantly, venture to ask whether she'd kept her suspicions about her and Des to herself. That felt impertinent, though, and she'd be forced to specify that the person she was worried about finding out was Samantha. The person Gina was most likely to tell and the person Sheelagh prayed she wouldn't were one and the same. Unable to articulate that she walked out into the corridor and pulled the door shut behind her.
She was meant to be on CAD all day but Gina sent a message through in the afternoon asking her to cover custody for an hour. She was hardly likely to argue under the circumstances, she was just grateful that the demand had come via someone else and not direct.
Trying to keep track of everything going on in custody was never easy at the best of times but today her mind really wasn't with it. PCs Kent and Buxton brought in a man who then started remonstrating with Mickey for him to get him out.
'Can you get me out too?' Sheelagh called across. 'I was only meant to be covering for an hour.'
Finally, she managed to make her escape from custody, only to be cornered by Gina again.
'Are you going back to CAD?' she asked.
'That's the plan,' she said carefully.
'Well, consider it altered,' Gina replied. 'And on your way back find Ruby and Gabriel and send them to me. It's about the prisoner they just brought in. Okay?'
Without waiting for an answer, she swept along and Sheelagh reluctantly turned on her heel and went to follow the inspector's orders. Her clipped tone was hardly unusual, though Sheelagh did assume it had more to do with their conversation of earlier than pure professional distraction on the part of her superior officer.
She located Ruby and Gabriel to pass on the message then returned to custody with a sinking heart. Des was out there actively searching for the little hooligan who'd trashed the area car and the chances were that he was going to find the lad. Sheelagh knew Des when he was determined to get something – she'd been a prime example of that, after all – and she was certain it would end with him marching the boy into custody.
Sure enough, an hour or so later Des and Kerry made an arrest. She steeled herself as the trio came in and went through the motions of booking the lad in with as much detachment as she could muster. Then, of course, Des had to try his luck as usual. Leaving Kerry trying to shush the prisoner, he came round the side of the desk and leaned in unbearably close.
'See,' he said proudly, 'told you I'd get him.'
'Congratulations,' she muttered, trying to focus on her typing.
'What's up with you?' he asked.
Irritated at his arrogance, she glanced at him. 'Look, you nearly lost me my job today so, from now on, our relationship is strictly professional.'
She squared her shoulders and turned back to Kerry and the boy to itemise his belongings. They got through it with difficulty, partly caused by the prisoner's belligerence and partly because she could feel Des staring at her, though she didn't look in his direction again. By the time they'd taken the boy to interview her stomach was tangled in knots. Once the door closed she rested her palms flat against the desk and sighed. She had to hope this would go away in time. Although she didn't exactly have many options if it didn't. Somehow she couldn't picture herself leaving Sun Hill – and it was nothing to do with wanting to stay near PC Taviner.
Her relief was short-lived. Des returned a little while later to go through the prisoner's phone. She gave it to him without much comment and tried not to react when he triumphantly crowed about something in the corner. Fortunately, he was so absorbed in whatever he'd accomplished that he didn't take any time to torment her and she soon found herself alone again.
She covered custody for another hour before she was summoned to Inspector Gold's office along with Smithy. Gina made a show of handing them both a copy of the job description to remind them of the duties of a sergeant since they'd both apparently forgotten. What Smithy had done to deserve that treatment, she didn't know, but she was just grateful her misdemeanours weren't divulged.
What followed was a relatively quiet couple of weeks. She had a few days off and then she expended a lot of effort trying to keep her distance from Des. As a consequence of spending half her time on custody and the rest out in the car with various members of the relief she didn't get to see anything of Sam either. In one way that was a good thing. She knew that the more time she spent with Sam the more chance there was of the astute detective deducing exactly what was wrong with her or, at least, deciding that she couldn't help but press the matter. Sheelagh wanted to avoid that conversation for as long as she could – forever, if at all possible. All the same, she found she missed the respite five minutes chatter with Sam gave her.
The feeling must've been mutual. Despite the fact that CID were dealing with a spate of burglaries – one of which was at the DCI's old home – Sam dropped into the Sergeants' Office unannounced and rested her head against the door frame.
'Tough day?' Sheelagh questioned.
'It's only ten o'clock,' Sam replied. 'But, yes, now you mention it. I'm on my way to interview Laura Meadows with Juliet. I sent her to the car, I needed a minute.'
Sheelagh watched her. 'I take it the DCI's on edge about it all?'
Looking over her shoulder, Sam edged further into the office and lowered her voice. 'Well, if you walked out on your wife and a few months later she gets burgled you would feel a bit guilty, wouldn't you? I just wish he'd say it out loud and then we could get on with the job without tiptoeing around him.'
'Do you think he regrets it?' Sheelagh asked after a moment.
Sam hesitated then double-checked no one was eavesdropping. 'I think he's found someone else to be honest. There's something about him. You know what it's like with men,' she went on with a smirk. 'They start ironing creases into their shirts, and they're not very good at it either. So of course he's going to regret it, but only because he's out having fun while Laura's becoming a crime statistic. Sorry,' she added, raising her hand in apology, 'that was uncalled for.'
'It's okay,' Sheelagh replied. 'You look like you could be doing without it.'
'I don't like treading on eggshells,' admitted Sam.
Examining the anxiety in her friend's pose, Sheelagh crossed her arms and said, 'I don't suppose you've heard anything on Dr Preston's syringe yet.'
The statement seemed to uncoil Sam. She stepped forward and tapped her foot against the leg of the table. 'I flagged it to alert Barton Street if there were any prints on there apart from Dr Preston's. I thought it was best under the circumstances.'
'Well, then you've done your job,' Sheelagh said. 'You need to put it out of your mind, focus on the burglaries.'
'It's another minefield,' Sam muttered then her gaze caught on something on the desk. Picking up the hefty tome still resting there from weeks ago, she looked at the front cover. 'Did you need a doorstop?'
Sheelagh grimaced. 'Just a refresher.'
A flicker of curiosity crossed Sam's face but she mastered it. 'For the record,' she said, dumping the book back onto the desk, 'you don't need a refresher. You're doing fine.'
'That's a matter of opinion,' Sheelagh replied and then she could've cut out her tongue. The last thing Sam needed was any further incitement to interrogation. Fortunately, she seemed to make a deliberate effort not to indulge her interest and returned to the door instead.
'I'd better go talk to Laura Meadows,' she said.
'Good luck,' returned Sheelagh.
She was almost relieved when the door clicked shut, though she'd rather have Sam's company and some awkward questions than otherwise. It took her a few minutes to focus in on her paperwork and then she managed to absorb herself for quite a while. Eventually, a flash of blonde hair caught her eye. Perhaps it was innate after all this time but she somehow knew it was Sam and she didn't like the speed of it. Immediately rising, she went out into the corridor and, on instinct, headed for the bathroom. There were only a limited number of places Sam would inhabit down here and it wasn't likely she'd made an arrest just yet, however wonderful she was at her job.
Her hunch paid off. When she entered the bathroom Sam was washing her hands. She looked up and saw her there, though her evident relief was tempered by a gesture towards an occupied cubicle. Sheelagh covered her own presence by making an effort to cleanse a marker pen stain from her thumb. That was enough to divert the young PC who flushed the chain a few minutes later, at least from her. There was no way on earth that a fragile constable would dare question why DI Nixon was lingering in the bathrooms.
The door swung closed and Sam let out her breath. 'Do you have a sixth sense?' she questioned.
Sheelagh chuckled. 'No, but I did see you rushing past the office looking like you wanted to kill somebody.'
'And you came to stop me?' Sam asked.
'Or to hide the body,' she retorted. 'What's wrong?'
Sighing, Sam leaned against the sink. 'When we went to see Laura Meadows this morning she couldn't tell us anything useful. But she just called me back over there half an hour ago, wouldn't talk to anyone else. I wasn't exactly patient with her,' she conceded with a wince. 'I thought it was the usual sort of overreacting, thought she was panicking over something and nothing.'
'But she wasn't?' Sheelagh pressed gently.
Sam shook her head. 'Turns out she's signed up to an online dating agency. She was too embarrassed to tell me in front of Juliet but it means someone's had access to the house. It changes the case.'
'I see,' Sheelagh murmured. 'Is that common to the victims?'
'I don't know,' Sam admitted. 'None of them have suggested they were involved in online dating. If it is a lead and none of them have mentioned it then, yeah, it's likely to be significant. Could blow the case right open.'
Sheelagh reached out and touched her arm. 'So what's the problem?'
'I've got to tell the DCI his wife's been dating strange men off the internet,' replied Sam. 'And then I've got to investigate it without half the nick finding that out.'
'I can see the predicament,' Sheelagh said.
'Don't suppose you want to tell him for me?' queried Sam hopefully.
She smiled. 'I think he might wonder whether he promoted me and didn't notice.'
'That'd distract him at least,' Sam said.
Sheelagh conceded that with a shrug. 'If he is seeing someone then surely he can't complain that she's been dating.'
'Double-standards, remember.' Rubbing her eyes, Sam added, 'Whichever way this goes, it won't be pretty. I don't get paid enough for this.'
'Get it over with,' Sheelagh advised. 'Then solve the investigation as quickly as you can and hide for the rest of the week.'
Sam's lips twitched. 'Is that your expert advice?'
'Born out of much experience,' she said. 'Come on,' she continued, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and steering her towards the door, 'stop procrastinating.'
'Yes, Guv,' Sam said with a small grin.
'No cheek,' Sheelagh warned. Before they reached the corridor, she relinquished her grip on Sam, though she didn't move once they were out there. 'Go on,' she insisted.
Sam snorted. 'Slave-driver.'
After watching her towards the back staircase, Sheelagh smiled and returned to her own office. It was a productive afternoon, mainly because she was away from the colleagues who generally added to her workload. She had to cover custody for an hour but it was a quiet hour, punctuated by random choruses of 'Roll Out the Barrel' from cell number five. She hadn't seen the prisoner personally, though she got the impression he was something of an aged wannabe from the yelps whenever he tried to jump up on his bed between renditions. He'd been brought in for drunk and disorderly and she suspected he might be in there for a while yet, though with a constitution like that they should send him away for analysis.
She'd just got back to her office when Gina appeared in the doorway. Sheelagh immediately stiffened, wondering if this was going to be a rehash of their last conversation about Des, but there was a spring in Gina's step that didn't come from irritation this time.
'I suppose Samantha's got you involved in this internet dating scam, has she?' she asked.
Sheelagh shook her head. 'I haven't seen her for a few hours. Is this to do with...' She trailed off as she remembered that all her conversations with Sam these days were private and confidential.
Gina glanced along the corridor. 'Oh, you're in the loop about that then. Is there anything she doesn't tell you?'
'She doesn't tell me anything sensitive,' said Sheelagh quickly. 'She wouldn't.'
'I wasn't labouring under the impression that she would,' Gina said. Something in her attitude had shifted, though Sheelagh couldn't put her finger on it. Stepping further inside the office, Gina rested her hand on the sergeant's job description that Sam had picked up earlier. 'Honest with her as well, are you?'
'To a degree,' she replied carefully.
'Maybe that's why she didn't ask for your help then,' Gina remarked. 'Easier to stick with Cathy, June and me. Perhaps she thought dating profiles were a little close to the bone, hmm?'
With that, she turned and went into her own office, slamming the door behind her. Sheelagh leaned back in her chair, trying to work out how that conversation had unravelled so quickly. Gina Gold was one of the best inspectors she'd come across and she regretted invoking her disappointment in the way she had, but she could also be a formidable adversary. Sheelagh wanted her respect, though she didn't know how long it would take for her to earn that back. In the meantime, she wondered how much respect Sam had for her right now.
Gina was probably spot on – the only real reason Sam could have for not involving her in something that she'd apparently got half the nick in on was if she had an inkling of the Des affair. So, despite how at ease they seemingly were with each other, there was something hovering between them again, just like there had been when Sam had refused to confide in her about Glenn Weston being Abi's father. It was all well and good Sam making a conscious effort not to mention it, but when it came to something like this it apparently held her back both professionally and personally. Sheelagh couldn't accept that so there was only one thing for it. Without wasting another second, she strode up to CID.
None of the officers looked up as she walked in – probably too worried she'd pass a fresh case on – and she made it all the way round to Sam's private office before she slowed her steps. The woman in question was focused intently on something on her computer, mouthing words to herself in a manner which could be called adorable if Sheelagh was in a better mood.
'Can I come in?' she asked.
Sam jumped then glanced furtively to her screen. 'Is there a problem?' she returned.
Crossing her arms, Sheelagh said, 'You tell me. You've got the female half of the station involved in this internet dating ruse but you don't ask me. Why is that?'
After clearing her throat, Sam muttered, 'I assumed you'd be busy.'
'That isn't it, is it? Don't treat me like a fool, we both know what's going on here.'
'Do we?' Sam questioned, a little nervously.
Sheelagh sghed. 'If you've got something to say about any aspect of my life, Sam, I wish you'd just come out and –'
'Wait, wait,' Sam cut in, motioning her into the office and gesturing for her to close the door. Once it clicked, she continued, 'Sheelagh, I really did think you'd be too busy and I didn't wanna bother you so... Well, I wrote your profile myself.'
For a moment Sheelagh could only stare. Then she managed to ask, 'Are you serious?'
'That depends on whether you're going to report me for professional misconduct or hit me,' Sam answered.
'Of course I'm not,' she said, feeling the tension in her shoulders disintegrate. 'I'm sorry, I was just –'
'You don't have to explain,' interrupted Sam, her blush extending to her ears.
Sheelagh hesitated. 'Can I read it?'
'Oh, erm...' Reaching for a scrap of paper, Sam held it up. 'I wrote down your log-in details. You'll need to upload a photo later anyway. I might be resourceful but I haven't got candid pictures of the entire nick at my disposal.'
Taking the note, Sheelagh smiled. 'There was me thinking your resources were limitless.'
Sam chuckled. 'Sorry to disappoint. At least writing your profile was easier than writing mine.' She gestured to the screen. 'That's what I'm trying to do at the moment.'
'Want me to take a look?' she offered. Just when she thought Sam couldn't look more uncomfortable, her blush deepened once more. 'Come on,' she coaxed. 'I'm sure I can find something good to say that borders on the truthful.'
'We're trying to attract a thief, not a psychopath,' Sam replied, nevertheless shrugging her assent.
Sheelagh rounded the desk and leaned down to read the scant lines of text Sam had managed to write. Then she nudged her out of the way and said, 'Give me the keyboard.'
Grimacing, Sam muttered, 'There's really no need to –'
'Keyboard,' she interjected. She suppressed her smile as Sam reluctantly shuffled it over, appearing for a moment irrepressibly like her daughter. After flexing her fingers, Sheelagh began typing, making a point of reading her words at the same time. 'I'm a career-woman looking to take time out of my busy schedule to meet the right man. I'm a...' She stopped and glanced sideways. 'What would you be if you weren't a copper?'
'An inmate probably,' Sam quipped.
Sheelagh raised an eyebrow. 'Criminal or mental?'
'Take your pick,' retorted Sam, massaging her neck. 'Okay, okay, I suppose I might've been a lecturer or something. I'm good at telling people what to do.'
'I hadn't noticed,' Sheelagh said as she typed that in. 'Lecturer in what? Computing?'
'I'll get a load of nutters wanting me to fix their modems, won't I?'
'You don't actually have to go out with them, you know,' answered Sheelagh, trying to contain her smirk. 'Unless it floats your boat, that is.
Sam opened her mouth then closed it again, apparently rethinking whatever sarcastic comment had popped into her head. After a few moments she cleared her throat. 'Lecturer in computing it is then. Can we leave it at that?'
'No chance,' Sheelagh said. 'I think we need to sand down your rough edges a little.'
'Excuse me?' Sam queried.
Sheelagh thought about it for a moment then continued typing. 'Or perhaps just outright lie then. So... Outside of work I'm very laid-back, enjoying romantic meals and long walks.'
Burying her head in her hands, Sam groaned.
'I'd love to meet the right man to share these with me,' she went on, 'but so far I've been very unlucky in love.'
'Understatement of the century,' Sam said, her voice muffled.
Chuckling, Sheelagh drummed her fingers on the desk then clicked them twice. 'Right, how about this for the last bit? I can be a little impulsive and that's got me into trouble in the past but it certainly makes for an interesting life. There,' she concluded, turning to Sam, 'how does that sound?'
Lifting her head up, Sam replied, 'Like a nightmare.'
'I rather enjoyed that,' said Sheelagh.
Sam snorted. 'Well, I'm glad one of us did.'
For a moment they stood looking at each other in silence – amused on Sheelagh's, awkward on Sam's – then there was a knock on the door and it burst open to reveal Eva.
'Guv, there's a – oh, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt.'
Sheelagh shook her head and returned to the other side of the desk. 'I should get back to work.'
Exchanging one last look with Sam, who seemed much more flustered than usual, she headed through CID and down into her own office, the little scrap of paper with her site log-in details practically burning a hole in her pocket.
First, she went through the motions of finding a suitable picture from the family snaps she kept in her bottom drawer and scanned it in. Then, finally, she logged into the profile Sam had created for her and sat back in her seat. There was only a short blurb alongside the essential details but it packed a punch: I'm a nurse working unsociable hours, which makes it difficult to meet someone. I'm a very patient, warm woman who manages to juggle all the things life throws at you without making a mess of it all. What I'm looking for is a nice, gentle man who won't mind if I'm a little shy at times but doesn't mind challenging me either.
Sheelagh smiled to herself. No wonder Sam had felt embarrassed about writing it but, really, it was one of the sweetest things she'd encountered in ages. After adding her photograph to the profile, she closed the site down, though she lingered in the station for a little longer, unwilling to go home for whatever reason.
That night Declan dropped in just long enough to ask to stay out at a friend's and she readily agreed. It was a night where she wouldn't have to plumb the depths of her culinary expertise to find something enticing which didn't bore her to tears and that wasn't green. Patrick came home with a few amusing stories of his shift that kept the rest of them happy and she managed to coast through the evening without saying too much.
When she arrived the next morning she was tasked to go out in the area car with Tony. That meant she'd miss the briefing that Sam had emailed her about first thing. It would've been easiest to email back her apologies but she felt the urge to go upstairs and apologise directly. So she asked Tony to wait for her in the yard and quickly went upstairs. She found Sam with her nose in her paperwork as usual, though the door was ajar.
'Morning,' Sheelagh said.
Sam glanced up, a tired smile on her face. 'Morning.'
Stepping inside, she questioned, 'Late night, was it?'
'The arson investigation kept me here till gone eleven,' Sam replied. 'It was one of those cases, you know?'
'I heard about it downstairs,' Sheelagh said as she sat down. 'Are you okay?'
'Well, I will be when they nail that property developer,' Sam said. 'Preferably to the wall. And, in the meantime, I hope we get a hit on this dating scam thief. I just fancy kicking criminal lowlife today, though if we ever end up in a courtroom or tribunal I'm relying on you not mentioning that.'
'Goes without saying. Listen,' she went on, suddenly recalling Tony waiting for her outside, 'I've been posted in the area car so I won't be able to make the briefing. No hits on my profile so far though. What about yours?'
'Nothing yet,' Sam answered, shifting in her seat. 'He's got a wealth of options to choose from, hasn't he?'
Sheelagh glanced over her shoulder before saying, 'If he chooses Debbie or Cathy then he deserves everything that's coming to him.'
Chuckling, Sam stretched out. 'And, of course, I didn't hear you say that either.'
'Hear what?' Sheelagh retorted, rising to her feet. 'I'll see you later.'
Her morning with Tony in the area car proved fairly uneventful. They responded to a few domestics but, for the most part, acted as a deterent over on the Jasmine Allen Estate. Sheelagh liked being out with Tony. He was a good partner, eager to chat but also happy to sit in silence when he was asked to. Unlike going out in the car with someone like Kerry or Gary, for instance, Sheelagh didn't feel the pressure of being the sergeant in charge.
So when they returned to the nick for refs she was actually much more relaxed than she had been when on duty in recent months. Perhaps that had a lot to do with the fact that she was avoiding Des with minimal effort on her part. It felt as though her prayers were being answered and she was grateful that any temptation he offered was being kept away from her.
She dropped by her office to check her messages then walked to the canteen. Tony was already settled with Gabriel, Gary and Smithy so, once she'd got her sandwich and coffee, she deposited herself by the window and proceeded to stare into space.
'Penny for 'em.'
The abrupt voice jolted her from her thoughts. She hadn't even heard Sam sit down, though judging from the look of amusement on her face she might have been there for a while.
'Why are you looking so pleased with yourself?' Sheelagh asked, realising a second later that she was deflecting and not quite knowing why.
Although she obviously noticed that, Sam ignored it. 'June got a hit on her profile,' she answered. 'We're all set for an obbo tonight. She encourages him back to the obbo flat, he copies the key, clocks the alarm code and we get the break-in on tape afterwards. Simple.'
'You sound far too excited about this,' Sheelagh pointed out.
Sam tapped her fingers on the table. 'Catching scum, Sheelagh – it's what it's all about.'
She smothered her smile. 'I thought it was about keeping the public safe.'
'Luckily for me, they go hand in hand,' Sam replied. 'How's your day going?'
'Well. And don't you dare jinx it,' she warned.
'More than my life's worth,' said Sam.
Making a conscious effort to relax, Sheelagh leaned back in her chair. 'So are you leading the obbo then? Seeing as you're so enthusiastic.'
Sam's lips twitched. 'You know, for the record I'm not eager to send one of our officers out for a date with a thief but it's just the way things have worked out.'
'That's your story and you're sticking to it?' Sheelagh asked.
'Something like that. And,' Sam continued, 'to answer your question, yeah, I'm running it with Brandon. It'll be good experience for him.' When Sheelagh swallowed diplomatically, she let out a soft laugh. 'What?'
'Nothing, nothing,' she answered. 'Only that being in a closed environment with you certainly is an experience.'
'Well, you'd know,' Sam returned as she stood. 'I'd better go intimidate my DCs, I'll catch you later.'
Sheelagh watched her go with a smile then reached for her lukewarm coffee. She had many things to be thankful for her life and her unusual friendship with Samantha Nixon was one of them. Despite the fact that Des was still nagging at the back of her mind, she knew that she belonged in Sun Hill. Any transitory thoughts she'd had about retreating from the mess she'd caused had vanished again – she couldn't imagine her days without the occasional amusement triggered by conversations with Sam. They were helping her forget as much as anything else.
The rest of her shift wasn't as calm as the morning. She was also starting to feel delicate again, as though she'd poisoned herself with the casserole she'd made last night, though she knew if that was the case Patrick and Connor would've already told her about it. She let Tony do the running after suspects, covering her own indisposition by quipping that he needed the exercise more than she did. Being a gentleman, he replied as she brought a struggling teenager back to the car, he wouldn't argue against that.
There was a lot going on when she returned to the station towards the end of her shift. As a favour, she slipped onto custody for half an hour, which turned into an hour and continued stretching on. In truth, she didn't feel as guilty as she usually would for not rushing home to referee between the boys or ask Siobhan politely to clean the bathroom sink for the third time this week. Perhaps it was strange to be seeking refuge from her problems in the nick when there was a significant chance of seeing Des around every corner but there was also a chance of seeing Sam and that levelled out the risk somewhat.
She got the opportunity she didn't know she'd been waiting for when she heard a snatched conversation between Nick Klein and Phil Hunter as they passed through custody. They mentioned Sam and how she'd 'believed' them, which was dubious enough for Sheelagh to take note of even if she didn't listen out for anything relating to Sam anyway.
Finally managing to extricate herself from custody, she rushed to get changed then trudged up to CID with her bag slung over her shoulder. Most of the main office was empty and Sam was just packing up herself, looking troubled.
'What's been going on?' Sheelagh questioned.
Sam spun around then glanced beyond her into the office, looking for something in particular.
'Most people have gone,' Sheelagh supplied. 'Except Mickey, Juliet and DS Hunter.' She added the final name pointedly and Sam looked up with that usual mix of relief and surprise that they were on the same wavelength.
'Did you drive in today?' she questioned after a moment. When Sheelagh shook her head, she went on, 'I could give you a lift if you fancy it.'
'That'd be great,' Sheelagh said, leaning against the door frame and watching Sam finish packing her bag.
They went down to the car park in silence, Sam muttering a curt goodnight to Phil and a couple of other officers but generally displaying her unapproachable superior act for public consumption. If Sheelagh was on the other end of it she certainly wouldn't be eager to interrupt DI Nixon on her way out of the station and no one was fool enough to try. Only when they were outside in the cool night air did Sam seem to relax and slowed her step.
'So what have you heard about tonight's messes?' she asked, glancing sideways.
Sheelagh shrugged. 'Not much,' she said. 'I overheard something Phil was saying to Nick in custody half an hour ago. It made me suspicious.'
'I'm not sure I want to ask,' Sam muttered. 'Though I suspect I already know.'
'Start at the beginning,' Sheelagh advised.
Guiding her to the right, Sam said, 'I'm parked over here. Okay,' she went on, 'so I'm guessing you heard about the teenager who collapsed in the cells earlier?'
'Yeah, I read the notes when I was covering custody. Overdose, wasn't it?'
Sam nodded. 'The brother of the young boy who's already critical. That one was a nightmare to start with and Gabriel obviously didn't search him properly. I had to leave that to go on the obbo with Brandon and June.'
She broke off as they reached the car and unlocked the doors, tossing her bag unceremoniously in the back then shifting a pile of newspapers from the passenger seat as Sheelagh opened the door. After looking at them for a moment, Sam threw them onto the back seat.
'When do you have time to read newspapers?' Sheelagh questioned as they settled in.
'Short answer? I don't.' As she twisted the key in the ignition, they both winced as loud music erupted in the small space. Sam quickly punched the radio into silence but not before Sheelagh had recognised the song and was laughing to herself. 'Don't,' Sam warned.
'I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' she replied, though her apology was diluted by her chuckles. 'I never thought of you as an ABBA girl, that's all.'
'It helps me unwind,' Sam answered, the blush on her face evident even in the gloom.
'Your secret's safe with me,' Sheelagh said as they reversed out of the parking space. 'Mind you, at this point I'm thinking of charging you for them. Could do with a little extra cash.'
'Little? You could afford an extension on the house.' Sam focused on her driving until they were out on the road then she continued, 'As I was saying –'
'That's right,' cut in Sheelagh, 'change the subject.'
Throwing her an amused glance, Sam restarted, 'As I was saying, then I had to go out on the obbo with June, which turned out to be a disaster as well. Everything was going fine. She'd just invited him back to the flat but... Well, I don't know what happened,' she admitted with a shrug. 'He made a move and she flipped, blew the operation. She ran out of the restaurant in tears. I was trying to get out of her what the hell was going on –'
'Delicately and compassionately,' Sheelagh interrupted with as much of an innocent expression as she could muster.
That threw Sam off momentarily and she cleared her throat. 'Of course,' she went on after a decent pause. 'Anyway, before I could work out what had gone wrong I was called to an accident at a derelict nightclub. Suspect was being chased by Nick and Cameron, out cold with a metal pole in his hands and three very shifty coppers on the scene.'
'Phil had got there first, I take it,' Sheelagh said.
'Popping up like the proverbial bad penny,' Sam confirmed. 'Course, they were all on message by the time I arrived. The story is that the suspect came at Nick and he defended himself with his asp. Somehow this fella ends up unconscious and Nick's bleeding from a cut on his hand.'
'From defending himself against a metal pole?' Sheelagh queried.
Sam looked sideways and inclined her head. 'You can see the problem with that and I can see the problem with that but to the three of them it's a cover story. Covering what, I don't know, to be fair. There's nothing I could see that would cause that sort of injury and why lie about it if there was a genuine scuffle?'
Sheelagh studied her face under the intermittent flashes of street lamps. 'What is it you think happened?'
'I don't know,' Sam admitted. 'I do think Nick's out to prove himself since he got back to work. He rushed into the arson flat the other day without bothering about his own safety. At the time I thought he was becoming a liability. Rehabilitate him, yeah, but not at Sun Hill. The thing is,' she continued, 'anything that has Phil Hunter's paw prints over it makes me nervous. Cameron was holding something back and I'd love to know what. That's my job for the morning, I think.'
For a few moments Sheelagh waited but the expected question didn't come. So she asked, 'Don't you want to know what I overheard?'
Shaking her head, Sam replied, 'I've said before, you're not my spy. I don't want you feeling like you have to inform on your colleagues. I trust you to know when there's something you need to pass on from a professional standpoint.'
Suppressing her smile, Sheelagh looked back out of the window. They were nearing home and, almost imperceptibly, she was beginning to feel that usual sensation of guilt bubbling around in her stomach. If Sam noticed the shift in the air she didn't mention it and Sheelagh made a conscious effort to try and master her discomfort. She hit on a way to do that as they turned into her road. Leaning forward, she turned the CD player back on. Suddenly, they were overcome by the chorus of 'Waterloo' and Sam let out a groan.
'Just trying to help you unwind,' Sheelagh said.
Pulling up in front of the house, Sam replied, 'You're not going to let me forget that, are you?'
'Not a chance,' she said as she opened the door. 'Thanks for the lift.'
Sam just nodded and watched her up the path. She didn't turn the car around until Sheelagh was halfway through the door and she heard it growling into the distance as she stepped into the hallway. Immediately, she felt a little isolated, despite the television noise coming from the living room and the music rattling the upper floor. Putting her keys on the hall table, she pasted on her best smile and sauntered into the kitchen.
The next morning she felt rotten. She tried to blame it on lack of sleep, though she suspected it was more deep-set than that. Any optimism she might've had yesterday had disintegrated, possibly because things felt more complicated without Samantha Nixon's reassuring presence in the seat beside her.
For much of the day she was posted to CAD, a reasonable assignment considering how she felt. She went to cover custody for an hour late afternoon then retreated to her office for a date with her mounting paperwork. It was there she heard voices drifting past the door about rumours that were circulating around the station. It was enough to make her stand up and wander down towards custody to see if the gossip seemed any more realistic from that standpoint. Unfortunately, down there she heard it first-hand and it sounded more than credible. She sighed and started to return to her office. Then she was overcome by a wave of nausea and diverted to the bathroom. Nothing came of the nausea and she was washing her hands when the door opened and Sam walked in.
'Oh, hi,' she said with a strained smile.
Sheelagh moved to get a paper towel. 'You look like someone in the cells is claiming one of your DCs slept with him last night.'
'Funny that,' Sam replied, leaning against the sink. 'I'm afraid Eva confirmed it. She didn't have a clue he was going to be brought in for questioning, of course, but that's not making my job any easier at the moment.'
'What's he accused of?' Sheelagh questioned.
'Drug dealing,' said Sam. 'He supplied the bad drugs that killed that young boy. We've got enough on him but he's determined to kick up a stink about Eva on the way to prison. The case comes before her reputation, I told her that.' She managed a wry smile. 'That didn't go down well, I have to say. I understand where she's coming from, Sheelagh, and maybe it's hypocritical but I can't put preserving her marriage ahead of securing a conviction.'
Conceding that with a shrug, Sheelagh asked, 'Is she going to tell Paul?'
'She might have to,' Sam answered. 'If he continues bleating she might not have a choice. But if he drops it then she should be in the clear. Provided there aren't any unwanted souvenirs, if you get my drift.'
Brushing past her, Sam headed for a cubicle. As the door creaked shut Sheelagh caught sight of her own reflection in the mirror and she clapped her hand over her mouth. Although she wanted desperately to be sick, she forced herself to the door.
'I'll see you later,' she called, barely recognising her own voice.
Out in the corridor, she almost succumbed to a wave of panic. How was it she hadn't thought of this before? She was no stranger to the signs of pregnancy, either as a mother or a nurse, but somehow she'd ignored the possibility of unwanted consequences from her few meetings with Des. It was perhaps that she'd known the truth at the back of her mind and just hadn't wanted to deal with it. After all, the way he'd treated her was hardly conducive to bringing a new life into the world, even if she'd wanted to. And, besides, there was no getting out of it, not for her with her beliefs. Maybe her mind had put off joining the dots for as long as possible, knowing what the ramifications were going to be.
She had to be sure though. Begging Smithy to cover her for an hour, she went to the chemist to buy a pregnancy test before slipping into a nearby pub and taking the test there. It was hardly an auspicious location to find out she was expecting her fourth child but, given the circumstances, maybe it was appropriate.
Returning to the station, she heard that June and Gina had successfully trapped the internet scammer. As she walked to the Sergeants' Office June caught up with her and mentioned that she was wanted in the front office. She offhandedly questioned whether she was hiding and, on a whim, Sheelagh admitted she was. From there it was only a short step to admitting that she was pregnant. She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth but, really, if she was going to tell someone then it would have to be someone like June. She couldn't tell Patrick or Des and she couldn't imagine telling Sam. Though she didn't fully understand the impulse that had prompted her to keep her liaison with Des secret from Sam, she knew it was important for her to hold onto the respect she had for her. The longer the secret stretched between them the more unlikely that respect was to hold.
Dealing with June's cautious enthusiasm right now was easier than dealing with Sam's disappointment. She resolved to get the shift over with and then think about the problem then. She wasn't fooling herself though – she knew she'd put off thinking about this for as long as she could. Because if she stopped to think about it then she knew for a fact that everything would change and she certainly wasn't ready for that.
