Throughout the interview with Mr Jameson Sam had been painfully aware of Sheelagh's distress in the corner. Perhaps it was her own fault for allowing her to observe the interview in the first place – she knew from their time in the Jameson house that Sheelagh was struggling immensely, though when she'd raised it in the car she'd allowed herself to be mollified. She should've been more insistent but she couldn't bring herself to pull rank on Sheelagh when she looked so fragile. That was the very reason she should've done it, of course, but the disconnect between what Sam would force another officer to do and what she'd ask of Sheelagh had expanded into a wide gulf today.
When Sheelagh had fled the interview Sam's first instinct had been to follow her. She combated that and put the grieving father first, though she didn't have many more questions to ask him. He'd certainly been through enough today and she could hand over her initial thoughts to another detective tomorrow without compunction.
After locating a nurse to sit with Mr Jameson until a car arrived for him, Sam finally felt able to go in search of Sheelagh. She knew somehow that she hadn't left the hospital and locating Des hovering around the main entrance just proved that fact in her mind.
'Do you know where Sergeant Murphy is?' she questioned coolly.
He hunched his shoulders up. 'She went to the loo, Ma'am. I'm waiting to give her a lift back to the nick.'
'No need for that, PC Taviner,' Sam replied.
'I reckon I should –'
'I don't,' she cut in. 'Go back to the station. I'll need your report on what happened today as soon as possible.'
As he stomped off she couldn't help but wonder again what Sheelagh saw in him. Then again, Sam hardly had a sterling history with men herself. Anyway, that was very much beside the point at the moment. Turning back into the hospital, she went in search of Sheelagh. She found her on the sixth attempt, upstairs in a secluded bathroom off the oncology ward. She'd obviously gone to some lengths to avoid being found and maybe Sam should've respected her wishes, but she knew the moment she walked through the door that she couldn't do that anymore.
Sheelagh was leaning over the sink, tears seeping from her eyes into the suds at the bottom of the bowl. Immediately, Sam rushed over, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
'I should've sent you back to the nick,' she muttered.
If Sheelagh was surprised by her sudden presence she didn't show it. Instead, she just shook her head, tears splattering everywhere. 'It's not that,' she said, tearing herself away. Going into a cubicle, she emerged with some toilet tissue and scrubbed at her eyes.
'I think you're gonna have to tell me,' Sam said, wringing her hands together. 'Please, Sheelagh,' she added, hardly recognising her plaintive tone.
Sheelagh looked up, the sodden tissue crumpled in her hand and her eyes raw. Finally, she whispered, 'I'm pregnant.'
Sam didn't realise her feet were moving until she scooped Sheelagh into her arms. Holding her tight, her mind was racing. It was the most obvious thing in the world and she could've kicked herself for not figuring it out herself. The 'food poisoning' and the mood swings Gina had reported were damning evidence for a start. Instead of jumping to the obvious conclusion, though, she'd kept it at arm's length and she didn't know why.
'I'm sorry,' she said into Sheelagh's ear as she stroked her hair down gently. 'If I'd known –'
'No!' Sheelagh burst out, pushing her away and eliciting a slither of terror that Sam didn't fully understand. 'Don't feel sorry for me. I don't want that, I don't deserve that.'
'Of course you do,' she replied. 'A case like this is bound to –'
'The baby's not Patrick's,' Sheelagh interrupted.
'It's Des's,' Sam murmured then she had to reach out and steady herself on the wall.
Vocalising her suspicions like that had set off a chain reaction that burned a course through her body and settled like a white hot ball at the pit of her stomach. She recognised it in an instant as jealousy. It was Des, she realised abruptly; she was jealous of Des. The confirmation of the affair had imposed an image of the pair of them in her mind which sent a ripple of disgust along her arms. Which meant... Lifting her chin, she looked at Sheelagh through new eyes.
This was something else so obvious that she couldn't believe she'd missed it. Maybe it was simply a case of not wanting to see it, because acknowledging it opened a can of worms too big to contain, but it was as plain now as any confession in the interview room. Some master detective she was, she thought wryly, as her gaze involuntarily roamed over Sheelagh's body. Looking at another woman like this was an alien concept but it stirred something inside of her. It had been lingering under the surface for goodness knows how long, so closely wound into their friendship that she hadn't differentiated it until now. Everything had suddenly shifted and she didn't have a clue how to begin to deal with it.
'I knew it,' Sheelagh said softly. 'I knew you'd hate me.'
Shaking herself, Sam pressed her palm flat against the wall and straightened up. 'I don't hate you, Sheelagh, I can promise you that. I just...' She trailed off and attempted a smile, though she knew how watery it probably looked to someone as adept at reading her as Sheelagh Murphy. Then she stiffened, wondering if her feelings were emblazoned on her face now she was abruptly aware of them. That would account for the apprehensive way Sheelagh was looking at her at least. Her brain told her she should try and assess the damage to their friendship but she couldn't really think beyond the tingling in her chest.
'You what?' Sheelagh pressed finally, her voice laced with pain. As hard as Sam tried, though, she couldn't detect any definite shift in her tone, no antagonism. That gave her the strength to swallow and regroup.
'I can't believe I didn't spot it,' she said quietly, 'that's all. Here I am calling myself a Detective Inspector and your friend and I couldn't see what was – what was staring me in the face.'
After scrutinising her for a few moments, Sheelagh leaned back limply against the sink. 'I didn't want you to know. I'm so ashamed; I've made a mess of everything.'
Keeping her distance was no longer an option. Pushing off from the wall, Sam approached her again and took her hand, well aware of the current that passed through her body at the contact. 'Listen,' she said, holding her voice remarkably steady under the circumstances, 'I don't care about the whats and the whys right now. We can talk about all that later, but I need to know that you're okay. This kind of case in your condition would be bad enough without all the extra stress you've got whirling around.'
Sheelagh glanced up, tears in her eyes. 'How do you still manage to surprise me?' she asked.
Sam let out a soft chuckle to cover her unease. 'Tell me how I can help,' she said simply.
'I spent most of last night in here being checked over,' Sheelagh said, sending another spasm of anxiety rippling through Sam's body. 'I'm okay,' she went on quickly. 'It was the pressure of keeping everything in. I'd been doing my best to ignore it.'
'Does Patrick know the baby's not his?' Sam questioned, the image of Des undressing Sheelagh ricocheting through her mind again and bringing heat to her face.
'No,' answered Sheelagh with a grimace. 'I didn't even tell him I was pregnant. It was June who –'
'You told June Ackland?' Sam cut in, releasing Sheelagh's hand. She knew how hurt she sounded but, somehow, she couldn't help it.
'Please, Sam, it isn't like it sounds,' Sheelagh insisted. 'I could tell June because... Oh, I don't know.'
As she spun away and began splashing her face with cold water, Sam stared at her. Two fresh thoughts were scurrying around her mind. The first was that it didn't matter whether Sheelagh had trusted her enough to tell her ahead of Saint June Ackland because it didn't dampen her feelings one bit. Two – and this was something that she was struggling to get her head around – that there must be a reason that Sheelagh hadn't wanted to tell her the truth about the baby. They couldn't possibly be down to the same thing...could they?
Suddenly, she realised Sheelagh was crying again and her attempts to make sense of this became redundant. She gently rubbed circles into her friend's spine as she murmured, 'It doesn't matter. Don't get yourself worked up, it won't do either of you any good.'
Once more, Sheelagh glanced at her in surprise, tears drying on her cheeks. 'I need to explain.'
'Not now,' Sam said swiftly, as much for her own sake as Sheelagh's. 'Are you feeling physically okay or should we get you checked over downstairs?'
'I'm fine,' she replied, 'honestly. I'm just exhausted.'
'No wonder. Come on,' continued Sam gently, 'I'm taking you straight home. It's the end of the shift anyway and Gina's not around. If anyone asks, it was my call.'
Sheelagh shook her head. 'You don't have to do that.'
'Did you get the impression it was up for discussion?' Sam shot back, trying to inject some normality into her tone. From the tired smile that slipped onto Sheelagh's face, she judged she'd been successful. 'Okay,' she continued, 'then let's get you out of here.'
When Sheelagh tried to move she stumbled a little. There was nothing else for it but for Sam to slot an arm around her waist and guide her out of the bathroom and down the corridor. It was far too intimate for her liking, especially when the thoughts still swirling around her head were anything but platonic, but keeping Sheelagh upright came first. Only when she deposited her in the passenger seat of the car did Sam allow herself a moment to breathe. Then she dragged herself around to the driver's side and went back to trying to feign normality.
'Are you okay going home?' she asked suddenly, glancing sideways. 'Is there somewhere else you'd rather go?'
Exhaling, Sheelagh muttered, 'I could put it off but it wouldn't help.'
What argument was there to that? Sam couldn't think of anything to say and instead just concentrated on manoeuvring them out of the underground car park. As they drove through the streets of Canley she couldn't help looking over to the passenger seat. She told herself she was just checking that Sheelagh was okay but that wasn't it.
Pulling up outside Sheelagh's house, she turned to face her. Though she looked as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders in the last hour, she was still pale and exhausted. Overriding the undercurrent that Sam was endeavouring to push to the back of her mind was the realisation that Sheelagh needed her friendship now more than ever.
'If you need anything,' she said, meeting her eye, 'let me know. I mean that.'
'I know you do,' Sheelagh said softly then she hesitated. 'I do have to ask you a favour.'
'Anything,' Sam replied instantly.
'You know I haven't told Inspector Gold yet...'
Sam groaned and briefly rested her head in her hands. Looking back to Sheelagh, she said, 'You're putting yourself and the baby at risk. How can I let you do that?'
'Give me a few more days,' Sheelagh pleaded, reaching across and entwining their fingers. 'I promise I'll tell you everything and I'll tell Gina the truth. I just need a little more time.'
With the warmth of Sheelagh's fingers around her own she couldn't muster up a coherent argument. Sighing, she said, 'I'll give you two days breathing space. Then I have to put your welfare first, not just as your senior officer.'
'I know,' answered Sheelagh. 'Thank you.'
'For helping you hide the truth from Inspector Gold?' she questioned wryly. 'You're welcome.'
'Not just for that.' Leaning across the car, Sheelagh pressed a sudden kiss to her cheek that almost made her reel. 'I'll see you tomorrow, Sam,' she added before slipping out of the car.
As she had twice in recent weeks, Sam watched her trudge up the path and unlock the front door. This time, though, it was more compulsive than anything else. Watching Sheelagh had suddenly become mesmerising and she was entranced by the sway of her hips even as her slumped shoulders and bowed head highlighted how she was really feeling.
When the house door slowly shut Sam closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Then she realised that she needed to put some distance between herself and this family home – quickly. Unable to face the prospect of seeing Abi, she drove aimlessly and ended up in a secluded spot along the riverbank. Only then, standing with her arms hooked around the chilled railings could she allow her thoughts to finally roam free.
She was in love with Sheelagh Murphy. It was so obvious that it physically hurt.
Thinking back, it had been brewing for longer than she cared to imagine. During the months Sheelagh had been at Sun Hill she'd treated her differently to anyone one, at first subtly then, in recent months, far more overtly. Never really having had a proper friendship that wasn't a constant power struggle with ulterior motives lurking underneath maybe she'd failed to see what was really going on here. If she analysed it – really analysed it – from the beginning then she could plainly see the warning signs she'd spent so long ignoring.
Sheelagh had made herself indispensible in her first week at the nick. That part of the narrative Sam was comfortable with. She remembered all too well the dark days of Joanna's disappearance and how Sheelagh had pitched straight in, helping out and proving her worth as a sergeant. But there was more to it than that, she realised as she stared into the Thames.
She could remember standing in the bathroom at Sun Hill, a mess after telling Eva that a little girl's body had been found. Sheelagh had come in and coaxed her into talking, saying it would be their 'little secret'. They had so many of those these days that it was difficult to remember that was the first one. That Sheelagh had helped put her back together on so many occasions was one of their secrets; that she was privy to her true thoughts about things ranging from Joanna's disappearance to Pat Kitson to Polly Page's arrest was a mark of how much she'd come to trust her. Sheelagh knew things about her, from the small details of her chocolate preference and love for ABBA, up to how viscerally appalled she was by Matt Boyden seducing Abi. She'd put her job at risk by warning Sheelagh about Mickey's rape, she'd confided things about work to her really as a matter of course recently. It was more remarkable for her not to tell her about something these days. Except Glenn, of course. She hadn't told her about Glenn.
Gripping the railing a little tighter, Sam swallowed. Whether she knew it then or not, this was probably the reason she'd felt so reluctant to tell Sheelagh about all that. Fear of losing her as a friend, yes, but fear of something much deeper than that. She'd been so blind but, then, she couldn't have seen this coming.
She'd never even been attracted to a woman before. Really, she saw them more as rivals. There wasn't room for that many women in the higher ranks of the force and her job was more important to her than petty friendships. Besides, when did she have time to cultivate them? No, she didn't have friends usually. That's what Abi had said when they were on holiday and she was worrying about Sheelagh back home.
This new urge to... She pressed her lips together and lowered her chin onto the cool railing. She had to admit it to herself at least or she wouldn't get any peace.
It was so much more than friendship. She hadn't so little experience in that to be unable to work out how far removed this was from it. Friendship was, maybe, what she had with Eva. She cared what happened to her, she'd defend her professionally and personally, but with Sheelagh it was much more than that. Stood in that murky hospital bathroom, Sam had wanted to kiss her, at the bare minimum. There, she'd admitted it. The alarming part of that was not how strong that urge had been – and, admittedly, it had been almost magnetic – but how similar it was to most of her other thoughts and feelings about Sheelagh lately. A natural extension, maybe, but she was putting a different spin on every conversation they'd had since Glenn – since before that.
One moment she could pinpoint that seemed innocuous at the time but so altered in hindsight was after Sheelagh had been assaulted by a junkie in that crack house. She'd rushed downstairs to find her then, in the bathroom, she'd tilted Sheelagh's chin up and scrutinised the damage. Closing her eyes now she could remember not only the darkening bruises but the pale, smooth skin around them and how she wanted to lean forward and claim it.
Sighing, she opened her eyes again and turned away from the grimy water and rested back against the railings. Acknowledging that this had been floating around for months didn't help her in the here and now.
If Sam knew anything about Sheelagh it was that an attraction to another woman wasn't part of her experiences. She couldn't say with certainty what instinct drew her to that conclusion; maybe it was simply that Sheelagh's faith was deep-rooted, even if they never discussed it. Most definitely, if Sheelagh had ever even thought of another woman in that way, it hadn't been Sam. The ease of their relationship would've vanished if she had – Sheelagh would've pulled back. No matter how reluctant Sheelagh had been to confide in her in recent weeks, they were still close in other ways, but that didn't obscure the fundamental problem that Sheelagh would be horrified about this if she knew the truth.
For a fleeting moment in the hospital earlier Sam had wondered whether Sheelagh's reluctance to tell her about Des and the baby came from the same place that had apparently held back her own confidences about Glenn and Abi. Now she rubbished that idea. Sheelagh didn't feel the same way about her, not even subconsciously – how could she? To her theirs was a friendship that, yeah, seemed to matter to her but that was all. Whatever the reason she'd kept her in the dark, it wasn't down to any reciprocation.
Suddenly, her phone beeping startled her. It was a text from Abi, asking what time she'd be home. Briefly, she smiled at the enquiry then realised it was past nine. She'd been stood out here for ages, no wonder her fingers were numb. Dashing off a reply to Abi, she slotted back into the car and started the engine. Then her gaze caught on the empty passenger seat.
All this introspection was frivolous crap. How she felt about Sheelagh was a sideshow. She could deal with her feelings later – she was adept enough at pushing things to the back of her mind, she always had been. What wasn't going to go away was the fact that Sheelagh was pregnant with Des Taviner's baby. The problems that threw up wouldn't disappear, however much Sheelagh tried to bury her head in the sand about it. Her health was at risk, her marriage too by the sound of it. As difficult as it was for Sam to contemplate aiding Sheelagh's attempts to fix her marriage – if that's what she wanted – it was the right thing to do. She couldn't call herself a friend if she didn't try to help any way she could and, besides, she thought as she reversed back onto the road, if you loved someone then your instinct was to make them happy. Maybe that was the surest sign yet that she'd fallen hard, fallen without even realising it until it was far too late to do anything about it.
That night she slept badly.
It was as though a switch had been flicked in her mind. All the feelings she didn't know she'd been suppressing had been unleashed. She was cycling through every conversation she'd ever had with Sheelagh while she was half-awake then succumbing to dreams that sucked the air out of her chest when she fitfully awoke. She ended up staring through the darkness at the ceiling, blue eyes swimming in her head until sleep consumed her again.
A strong coffee did enough to get her to work, though she was later in than she would've liked. Her heart was hammering as she walked in through the front office, expecting to see Sheelagh around every corner and unsure how she'd react if she did. It felt like she was a teenager again, simultaneously desperate to see someone and dreading it too.
Walking into CID, she was surprised at how empty it was. They were still a couple of bodies down, of course, but that didn't account for the fact that only Debbie and Rob were at their desks. Catching sight of her, Debbie rose and intercepted her before she made it to her office.
'Guv, the DCI assigned Eva to that sudden infant death from yesterday,' she said.
Sam indicated for her to follow her then dropped her bag beside the desk and turned back. 'That was going to be my first job actually. Why did the DCI jump in?'
'Because the father went up on the hospital roof with a baby,' Debbie answered. 'Turned out to be his own but obviously Eva and Sheelagh didn't know that at the time.'
Sam's head snapped up. 'Sheelagh's there?'
'Yeah, she responded to the original call after Des and Reg.' Debbie paused, evidently wary of asking the next question. 'Do you want me to speak to the mother, Guv?'
'No, no, I'll do it,' she replied, not missing the flicker of relief that crossed Debbie's face. 'Thanks for letting me know.'
With the door closed, Sam sank into her chair briefly and tried to order her thoughts. She'd fully intended on assigning the Jameson case to Eva, knowing that as a mother she'd deal with it sensitively. With Annabelle Jameson as difficult a witness as she'd been yesterday, Sam's options were limited if she didn't investigate it herself and, truthfully, she hoped that another officer might be able to manoeuvre around Mrs Jameson's muddled recollections a little more effectively. It was one of those cases where you needed to find the right person to deal with it. Being announced yesterday as a Detective Inspector may have closed Annabelle up against her – better to pass it on, that's what she'd thought. It helped, of course, that using that reasoning to extricate herself from the case meant she could extricate Sheelagh too. This was the last thing she should be dealing with, and she really shouldn't be hanging around on rooftops either. When Sheelagh got back to the nick she'd have to talk to her, something that sent an unbidden shiver through her body.
For now, though, she needed to go and speak to Mrs Jameson about her husband's actions and explain who'd be taking over the investigation. Driving there at least put her mind back on the job. She found Mrs Jameson sat in silence, the FLO beside her. It took several attempts for what she was saying to sink in but, finally, Sam got through to her and gently pressed for Annabelle to join her husband at the hospital. By the time she left the house she felt as though she'd done a morning in the witness box, not fifteen minutes with a bereaved mother who refused to utter more than a few words. She sat in her car until she watched the FLO drive away with Mrs Jameson then she returned to the station, intent on trying to get some work done before Sheelagh arrived back.
In reality, that was a pipe dream. She sat in her office with the door open, hearing every set of footsteps and believing it was Sheelagh. Her entire body stilled every time then she mentally shook herself and tried to focus back on her paperwork. It was crazy – this time yesterday she'd had no idea all this was about to cascade down onto her head but now it felt like the most natural reaction in the world.
Finally, she saw a figure round the corner and her shoulders relaxed momentarily. Then she realised how fragile Sheelagh looked and she rapidly rose, ready to close the door and blinds as soon as she was over the threshold. There was a slight hesitation on Sheelagh's part before she sat down, as though she was thinking about bolting. Sam had intended to return to her own chair but she found herself kneeling beside Sheelagh's chair, startling them both. It was magnetic almost, like her desire to kiss her last night, an idea she immediately tried to suppress as soon as it jumped into her mind – though it was a bit too late for that, especially given how close they physically were right now.
'How are you feeling today?' she asked gently.
Sheelagh pressed her lips together then said, 'The family were known to Social Services, I've tasked Eva to get the records. The PM was inconclusive.'
Sam stretched out a hand to her arm. 'You know that wasn't the question.'
There was a moment where she feared Sheelagh was about to push her away but she didn't. Instead, catching sight of the emotion bubbling in her eyes, Sam rose and pulled her close. She felt Sheelagh stiffen then finally give in and let her tears fall freely. Resting her chin on her trembling head, Sam found tears stinging her own eyelids.
'Shush,' she murmured, 'it's okay. I've got you.'
Sheelagh spluttered a laugh into her chest. 'This isn't in your job description.'
Sam felt the tremor of Sheelagh's body against her own, felt it ripple inside of her and she smoothed her fingers along her hair to distract herself. As much as she tried to tell herself it was inappropriate to be feeling the way she did while Sheelagh was distraught, she couldn't help the way being this close to her suddenly made her feel.
Drawing away, Sam returned to her kneeling position, taking hold of Sheelagh's arm with one hand and fumbling in her bag for a packet of tissues with the other. When she located them and passed them over Sheelagh let out another short laugh but didn't unwrap the packet. It was down to Sam to do what Sheelagh had done for her several times now. She slid a tissue out and reached up to scoop away the tears on her cheeks, fingertips brushing soft skin. Sheelagh just watched her then, finally, took a long shuddering breath and seemed to come back into herself. Even so, Sam didn't move, however much her knees ached.
'Don't pull me off the Jameson case,' Sheelagh said.
Sam grimaced. 'Don't ask me that.'
'Please,' Sheelagh insisted, 'I need to see it through. I know the family now, I can help.'
'You're also pregnant,' Sam reminded her. 'You shouldn't even be on active duty, let alone investigating a case like this. As your superior officer, I need to look after you.'
Sheelagh grasped her hand, squeezing hard. 'Listen, I've just had to talk Mr Jameson down from the hospital roof. He gave me his son, Sam. He didn't want him to be cold and alone in the...' Breaking off, she swallowed. 'But he trusted me when I told him we'd respect Ben. I made him that promise, I need to stick to it.'
'You personally don't,' Sam replied, though she knew she was wavering. The flash of determination in Sheelagh's eyes was too familiar, too compelling. 'What am I gonna do with you, hmm?'
Sheelagh managed a weak smile. 'I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the baby.'
Abruptly, Sam rose again, putting the desk between them and sitting in her own chair. 'Can I ask why you didn't?' she questioned, aware of retreating into her DI Nixon persona but unable to stop herself.
'I'm ashamed of it,' Sheelagh answered finally.
'But you told June Ackland,' she pointed out.
Looking down, Sheelagh muttered, 'I didn't tell June who the father is. If I'd told you what was going on, I would've had to tell you everything and I didn't want you...'
When she trailed off Sam clenched her hands on her lap out of sight. 'What did you think I'd do?'
'The last couple of months have been torture,' admitted Sheelagh after a few moments. 'All the guilt, denial, trying to ignore the pregnancy... I haven't been dealing with it very well. You know that, don't you?'
Sam shrugged. 'I was trying to give you space.'
Nodding, Sheelagh said, 'To tell you in my own time. I appreciated that. I know it goes against your nature.'
She couldn't help but smile slightly. 'You're not wrong there.'
'The truth is,' Sheelagh continued, wrapping her arms over her stomach, 'I didn't want to lose you. The only time I've felt safe and normal lately is when I'm with you.'
Sam swallowed as she absorbed those words. Sheelagh had no idea – she couldn't have – of the way that simple statement affected her. Yeah, she'd tried to be a supportive friend, not pushing when her instincts told her something was wrong, but she supposed in hindsight that she hadn't wanted to confront the situation anymore than Sheelagh had because she felt secure in their little bubble.
'I'm glad,' she said eventually, forcing herself to look up.
Sheelagh held her gaze, her eyes watery again. 'You knew about Des though.'
'I didn't know,' Sam replied. 'I've suspected for a long time.'
'So it wasn't Gina who told you?' asked Sheelagh.
'We've never discussed specifics,' she answered. 'We've skirted around the subject a bit. She knew I was worried about you. But, no,' she went on. 'I've seen you with Des. I just didn't know how far it'd gone.'
Biting her lip, Sheelagh fell silent. Sam didn't know what was going through her head but she suddenly remembered where they were and what a nasty case they were currently involved in. Retreating behind that at least lessened the knot of jealousy in her chest.
'I'll let you stay on the Jameson case,' Sam said after a minute.
Sheelagh glanced up. 'You will?'
'Yeah,' she replied. 'I understand why you want to stick with it. Besides,' she added, 'you haven't told me anything about any pregnancy, have you? I've got no reason to pull you from the case.'
Rising, Sheelagh rounded the desk and surprised her with a hug. 'Thank you,' she murmured as she drew back, fresh tears in her eyes.
Sam tried to wave that away, ignoring the warmth spreading through her entire body. 'Go get yourself cleaned up a bit,' she advised. 'You look terrible.'
Sheelagh chuckled and squeezed her shoulder before she walked to the door. Turning back, she opened her mouth then closed it again and left without another word, pulling the door shut behind her.
Leaning back in her chair, Sam exhaled heavily. It was barely ten o'clock and she already felt as though she'd done a twelve hour shift. She was doing the wrong thing, letting Sheelagh stay on the case. She knew that as much as she knew that her heart was going to continue overriding her head – at least for the time being, until she could adjust herself to this. It felt as though she was still playing catch-up, not just with her own feelings but with what Sheelagh wanted. She couldn't help her if she didn't know and the middle of the Jameson case was no time to be interrogating her. Perhaps, subconsciously, that was another reason she'd let her continue on the investigation, along with Sheelagh's obvious desire to see it through.
For half an hour she forced herself to focus on her paperwork, double-checking everything and rolling her eyes at the lack of clarity in Rob Thatcher's reports. She knew from experience that she needed to keep an eye on him but this was ridiculous.
A knock on the door startled her and when she called for whoever it was to come in she found herself facing Sheelagh again, this time with Eva at her side. Her eyes caught on Sheelagh, noting that she'd done a pretty good job tidying herself up. No one would guess she'd been in bits in this office less an hour ago.
'Morning, Guv,' Eva said. 'The baby's post-mortem came back inconclusive but the family were known to Social Services so I've been doing some digging.'
'Go on,' Sam replied, pretending that she hadn't heard this once already and earning a weak smile from Sheelagh for her trouble.
'The social worker said there was no intimacy,' Eva continued. 'It was as if Annabelle didn't want to touch Ben. But she wouldn't let anyone else near her baby either.'
'Did she say anything about postnatal depression?' Sam asked.
'Well, we'll have to talk to Annabelle's GP about that,' answered Eva. 'The social worker said there was no evidence of physical abuse.'
'Until now,' Sheelagh said. Sam legitimately shifted her attention to Sheelagh for a moment as she glanced to Eva and queried, 'What about evidence of neglect?'
Sighing, Eva said, 'Look, Annabelle was a first time mum and she didn't have a lot of support. Warren works away from home a lot, her parents are dead, it's hard for her.'
'We know she wanted an abortion,' Sheelagh argued. 'What if the baby wasn't Warren's?'
Sam inwardly winced. It was a leap under the circumstances to suggest that but, of course, she knew where the accusation had come from. Here was a compelling reason to edge Sheelagh away from the case, though she still couldn't bring herself to do it. She maintained faith in her abilities as a police officer and, really, a perspective on this that was a little critical of Annabelle's reaction to the death could be welcome. After all, both she and Sheelagh had seen the strangeness in her demeanour yesterday. Grief affected everyone differently, but so did guilt.
Eva snorted. 'There's no reason to think that Annabelle's had some sort of affair,' she said. 'She wasn't the greatest mum on earth but it doesn't justify any of this. She just lost her baby for Pete's sake.'
'Be interesting to hear what the GP has to say at least,' Sam said after a few seconds. 'I want you both to stay on this. But, remember,' she added, 'kid gloves.'
Both of them nodded. Eva was quick to leave but Sheelagh lingered, shooting her a grateful look that made the professional risks she was taking with this case worth it.
Once more, Sam burrowed into her paperwork as soon as the door closed. She was interrupted by Phil asking for her authorisation on an obbo. On another day perhaps she would've checked the details a little more thoroughly but the prospect of getting him out of her hair quickly was too enticing. Besides, once in a while he proved he was a good copper, it was just that half of his results stank to high heaven and the other half were probably down to someone else.
She was by the window looking at a file when there was another knock at the door.
'Come in,' she called.
It was Eva who entered, making sure to shut the door behind her. 'Annabelle Jameson's old flatmate,' she began and Sam lowered the file, paying full attention. 'She's just confirmed that she did have another child long before Ben.'
'And before she met Warren?' Sam questioned.
'Yeah, Annabelle was pregnant when she moved into the flat,' Eva answered. 'She'd been living with a guy but he'd wanted to get married and they split up over it. Then she discovered she was pregnant.'
'Well, so what happened?' Sam pressed. 'Did she have it adopted or something?'
Eva shook her head. 'No, not at all. She wanted to bring the baby up on her own, doted on him apparently.' Breaking off, Eva hesitated. 'Until he died.'
'How did the baby die?' asked Sam, feeling an icy build-up in her stomach.
'It was another cot death,' Eva admitted.
Wincing, Sam shifted her weight. 'Okay,' she said finally, 'get consent to obtain Annabelle and Warren's medical records. We've got to look at all angles on this. Keep me in the loop, okay?'
'Yes, Guv,' said Eva before leaving.
It wasn't looking good, Sam conceded when she was alone. As a mother she knew the stresses that came with a newborn baby in the house. Dealing with Abi had been a nightmare at times. She wasn't a natural mother, feeling much more comfortable when there were a few years on the clock and she could reason with her daughter. It was a stressful situation, Eva had been right earlier about that, but, having spoken to Warren, Sam knew that Annabelle was far from alone. He'd desperately wanted to help with his son and his wife had stopped him. Could it really be because she'd been so detached from him that she was willing to let him die – or worse? No matter how many times in her career she had to deal with the deaths of children, it never got any easier. For Sheelagh, too, this case would be terrible. Not for the first time that day, Sam wondered whether she'd made the wrong call, she wondered how Sheelagh was coping out there.
She had a meeting with Jack scheduled in for three o'clock. It was routine stuff, updates on recent cases and the like, but at least it gave her something to focus on. When she got back to her office, though, Eva jumped up and followed her inside.
'You need to pull Sergeant Murphy from this case,' she said without preamble.
Spinning around, Sam closed the door and asked, 'Why?'
Eva paced across the office. 'Look, Guv, there are things... I don't think she should be assigned to this case, that's all.'
'I need more than that,' she pointed out, all the while hoping her discomfort didn't show in her face. 'Has there been any progress since we last spoke?'
'Annabelle's confessed to killing her son,' Eva said then held up a hand when she made to speak. 'No, it is not that clear-cut, I'm telling you. There's something she's not saying. It's like she wants to take responsibility when she knows she didn't do it. She claims she poisoned them but there's no sign of that in Ben's post-mortem. It's possible that a genetic condition could account for both of the deaths, something passed down through Annabelle and that's what she means when she says she poisoned them.'
'Okay,' Sam said slowly, 'I take it Sheelagh doesn't agree?'
'She's compromised, Guv,' Eva answered.
'How do you mean?' she asked.
'It's not my place to say,' muttered Eva, the flicker of her eyes confirming Sam's suspicion that she knew about the baby. How that had come out during the day was irrelevant. The important fact was that Eva seemed to think it was affecting Sheelagh's judgement, something Sam had foreseen but pushed to the back of her mind, as she apparently had with so many things lately.
'All right, look,' she said after a moment, 'I'm not pulling anyone from any case. There are obviously still loose ends here. Whatever happened, Annabelle has to provide a plausible explanation for Ben's death. She hasn't done that and your job isn't over until we've got enough to get a conviction – if she's guilty. You know that and so does Sheelagh so you've still got work to do.'
Rubbing her forehead, Eva replied, 'Okay, okay. I'll...apologise.'
'Why?' Sam queried. 'What did you say?'
'Something completely out of line,' Eva said as she reached for the door handle. 'I'll see you, Guv.'
Left alone, Sam pondered what that meant. Then her mind inevitably drifted back to Sheelagh herself. Leaving her on the case had obviously been an error of judgement on her part, though it wasn't so much her head to blame as her heart. She'd decided she couldn't do anything that was going to heap pain on top of her other troubles but it looked like that had backfired. If Sam was forced to justify this mess to anybody what would she say? Sorry, but I've just realised I'm in love with Sergeant Murphy and I put my feelings above the case? That was going to go down brilliantly with the promotion board, wasn't it?
It was certain that she wasn't leaving the nick tonight until this case was either solved or both Sheelagh and Eva had gone home. She sat in her office as the light grew dim outside, alternately thinking about the paperwork she was ostensibly focused on and the case she had no investigative part in. Gradually, CID emptied and she gave up the pretence of working, sitting back instead and staring out through the doorway.
Eventually, Eva trudged back to her desk, spotting her and pivoting right. 'Didn't think you'd still be here, Guv,' she said as she leaned against the door jamb.
'What happened with the Jamesons?' Sam questioned.
Eva inhaled deeply. 'Well, I was right,' she answered. 'A genetic condition brought on by the interaction of Annabelle's genes with Warren's.'
Frowning, Sam asked, 'Does that account for both deaths?'
'Yeah, Warren was the father of both, though he didn't know about the first one. The sad thing is...' Trailing off, Eva scrubbed her chin. 'It was treatable, Guv. If Annabelle had told the truth about what happened to the first baby, Ben's death could've been prevented. She didn't want to get attached to Ben because she knew he'd be taken away from her.'
Sam took all that in and leaned back in her chair. 'I can hardly imagine what she must be going through.' Pausing, she then asked carefully, 'What about Sergeant Murphy? Did you have any more problems?'
'No, Guv, it's fine, honestly.' Eva gestured to her desk. 'I'm gonna get out of here, I think. Got a sudden urge to give Joanna and Sammy the biggest hugs of their lives.'
Smiling weakly, Sam watched her go. As soon as the main doors to CID clapped shut, though, she was on her feet and heading down to the Sergeants' Office, almost on autopilot. Part of her feared Sheelagh would've left already but she hadn't. The door was shut but the blinds were open, showing her staring into space at her desk, much as Sam had been for much of the afternoon.
Knocking once, she stepped through the door and closed it behind her. Sheelagh glanced up anxiously then her shoulders slumped. It was as though she'd been gearing up for a fight and now suddenly realised she didn't need to mount one. At least that's what Sam hoped it was. It could easily be that Sheelagh had just given up. Turning around, she closed the blinds then took a seat.
'How are you doing?' she asked.
Sheelagh shook her head. 'I made a complete mess of things, didn't I?'
'It wasn't your fault,' Sam said firmly. 'There were plenty of reasons to mistrust Annabelle Jameson. Besides,' she added, 'as your senior officer –'
'Don't,' Sheelagh interrupted. 'You only agreed to let me continue on the case because I asked.'
'That shouldn't have mattered,' she insisted.
'But it did,' Sheelagh replied quietly. 'I've put you in a difficult position.'
'At the moment, I don't care about any of that,' Sam said firmly, waiting for Sheelagh to look at her and believe her. 'But you do need to be on light duties, you know that.'
Sighing, Sheelagh said, 'Eva knows I'm pregnant. She said that I was accusing Annabelle because I feel guilty about not wanting my own baby.'
Sam swallowed down her anger, sensing that Sheelagh wasn't finished.
'She's right,' she continued finally. 'If I had a choice I'd wish it away in a second. I told Des earlier that I don't care if something bad happens. I'm tempting fate –that's why I haven't told Inspector Gold, that's why I don't want to be on light duties. I don't want the baby. There – now you know the truth.'
'Sheelagh,' Sam said gently, 'I think anyone in your position would be feeling like that. Maybe that's why you tried not to think about it for so long. You couldn't ever have an abortion, you're having this baby whatever else happens. So let me help,' she went on, 'talk to me. You're not alone, I promise you.'
There was a long moment where she thought Sheelagh might fall apart but she didn't. Instead, the offer seemed to seep into her slowly and then she seemed more like herself. It was as if she'd suddenly realised she wasn't alone and the worst – whatever she'd thought might've happened when they had this conversation – hadn't occurred.
Feeling her yield, Sam continued, 'Okay, so you're pregnant and the baby isn't Patrick's. What happens now?'
Sheelagh picked up a pen and squashed it between her fingers. 'I can't lie to Patrick for the the rest of my life. I feel like I've been in a pressure cooker for the last four months. Longer,' she admitted, 'ever since I first thought about Des, I've been betraying him one way or the other. I can't live with that.'
'Then what?' probed Sam carefully. 'You'll tell him the truth, that the baby isn't his?'
'If I do that my marriage is finished,' Sheelagh answered, blinking back tears. 'He couldn't bring up another man's child, not after everything we've been through together. And that means the kids –'
'Hey,' Sam cut in, 'one thing at a time, okay? Focus on Patrick for me. If there's a chance he would accept the baby, is that what you'd want?'
Slowly, Sheelagh shook her head. 'I can't forget it, even if he thinks he could.'
Though it pained her even to think it, Sam had to ask, 'And where does Des fit into this then? Do you want a relationship with him? Is that a possibility?'
'I don't know,' replied Sheelagh, dropping the pen onto the desk. 'I don't know. He says he wants to do right by the baby but...'
'You need to talk to him,' Sam said. When Sheelagh grimaced she added, 'If you feel that way about it then maybe there's your answer.'
For more than a minute Sheelagh was silent. Sam took the opportunity to avert her gaze and try to order her feelings. Hearing that Sheelagh's marriage was in pieces shouldn't have given her a slither of satisfaction. She was trying to be a good friend here, despite the fact that she was still looking at Sheelagh with a new sense of appreciation. That she could picture herself unbuttoning her shirt and sliding her hand inside was an image Sam could only arrest by remembering the baby, Des's baby. It formed a tangible barrier between what she'd suddenly decided she wanted and what she could actually have.
'You're right,' Sheelagh said eventually. 'I've got to know what he wants.'
Sam rose to her feet, stretching out. 'And, in the meantime, try and get some rest for me. You've had a rough few days. Don't think I've forgotten your promise either. You need to tell Gina tomorrow or it'll be my head on a platter when she finds out, right next to yours.'
Sheelagh nodded and also stood, rounding the desk hesitantly. Then she stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. For a brief moment Sam was acutely aware of all the places their bodies were touching, igniting a flame inside her that proved hard to quell when Sheelagh drew back. Perhaps Sheelagh put her blush down to embarassment because the small smile on her face was the closest to a true one Sam had seen all day.
'Night,' Sheelagh said softly.
Sam couldn't resist: she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek, feeling the tingle on her lips as she withdrew. 'Goodnight,' she replied, groping for the door handle.
It was only when she was halfway up the staircase that she realised she was practically floating. One platonic kiss on the cheek and everything seemed different all of a sudden. She'd rubbished this kind of thing in the past as cliched romance. Even with Glenn it had taken time, time to get to know him – so she'd thought – and time to accept she was attracted to him. With Sheelagh she'd cycled through that acceptance in twenty-four hours flat. But, then, it had been brewing for longer than that, hadn't it? She knew she loved her now because she'd spent months falling for everything about her, from the forthright way she walked into her office when nobody else would dare to the amused look on her face when she discovered that one of her guilty pleasures was ABBA at top volume as she drove home.
All that rubbish about opposites attracting – she'd thought that was a load of cliched crap as well. But Sheelagh was about as different to her as she could be. All the baby stuff aside, she was caring, a good listener, intuitive in things beyond police matters. Sam envied her that at times, envied her patience. She didn't have much energy for dealing with people's petty grievances but Sheelagh was brilliant at smoothing the way. Look at what she'd done for her over the months, though Sam vainly believed part of that was because of their friendship, not just because it was what Sheelagh Murphy did as a matter of course.
Reaching her office, she dropped into her chair as her usually-rapid brain caught up with her. It didn't matter how she felt about Sheelagh after all. This was like coming up on the lottery and being unable to cash the winning ticket – she'd managed to fall for someone who wouldn't – couldn't – reciprocate and who was pregnant following an extra-marital affair to boot.
Sobered, she methodically packed up and turned the computer off, her gaze lingering on the picture of Abi she kept on the desk. Then she managed a small smile and set off out of the station. When she reached the front office she found her feet turning left instead of right and stopped in front of Marilyn behind the desk.
'Do you know if Sergeant Murphy's gone yet?' she questioned.
Marilyn glanced up. 'I haven't seen her. Do you want me to give her a call?'
'No, no,' she answered, 'it'll keep.'
With a curt nod, she walked out into the cool air. While she knew she should go straight to her car, something compelled her to stay. She wanted to make sure that Sheelagh left the station and that she didn't stay in her office dwelling on what had happened, both professionally and personally. So she stood in the shadows just out of sight of the door and watched, just intending to stay for a few minutes then return inside and remind Sheelagh to leave the building.
That wasn't necessary though. Before she'd checked her watch for the first time the door opened and Sheelagh came out – followed by Des. They were physically close, Sam realised, and a fresh jolt of jealousy shook her. Her eyes followed them across the road towards the car park then she shrank back around the corner to avoid being seen. She felt hollow all of a sudden, as if the last day had torn the fight right out of her. Slowly, she detached herself from the wall and walked to her own car, her mind replaying the way Des had pressed his arm briefly around Sheelagh's waist as though he had the right to over and over again.
She didn't sleep any better that night and this time a strong coffee wasn't much use. She'd made her mind up, though, that she was damned if this was going to get the better of her. Stubbornly, she went up to her office and checked in with every single member of her team, startling Rob by demanding far more information on his current cases than he could supply without difficulty. She warned him to give her an update later and heard him grumbling to Brandon as she turned back to her office.
Sat at her desk, she fired off some emails and was in the process of completing a report for the DCI when there was a knock on the open door.
'I've got a few reports for you, Guv.'
The familiar sound of Sheelagh's voice shivered through her. Putting her pen down, she steeled herself for a moment before she trusted herself to look up and even then she was assaulted by the sight of her friend on the threshold. Clearing her throat, she gestured for her to push the door shut and watched Sheelagh perch on the edge of the chair opposite.
'How are you feeling today?' Sam questioned.
'Physically, I feel fine,' Sheelagh replied then she hesitated. 'What we were talking about last night... Des came to see me not long after you left.'
Sam tried to keep her face clear. 'Right...'
'He asked me to leave Patrick,' Sheelagh said, focusing on her hands. 'I said yes.'
Though she'd guessed as much, the words still hit her with force. She laced her fingers together under cover of the desk and asked, 'Is that what you want?'
Sheelagh raised her chin. 'I can't stay with Patrick, not after what I've done. If Des wants us to be a family, with Siobhan and the boys as well, I have to give it a chance.'
Swallowing, Sam forced herself to question, 'Do you love him?'
A sad smile crept onto Sheelagh's face as she nodded. 'I wish I didn't but I do.'
Out of sight, Sam clenched her fingers together until they numbed. She hoped that her discomfort wasn't remotely visible on her face – she didn't know how the hell to explain it and, really, this was what she should've expected to hear after last night. She knew in her heart that Sheelagh wouldn't have gotten herself into this mess in the first place unless it was more than just lust plaguing her.
'Okay,' she said finally, her voice miraculously level. 'Now you need to stick to your side of the bargain and tell Gina you're pregnant.'
'I will,' Sheelagh promised, standing. 'I'll do it now.'
'Thank you,' Sam answered. 'No more heroics, you hear me? You look after yourself and you look after the baby.'
With another tired nod, Sheelagh tugged the door open and left. As soon as she was alone, Sam took a long, shuddering breath and pressed her lips together. Then she forced herself to pick her pen back up, to focus on the file at hand. It was a struggle but this was what she did after all – Abi had berated her for it in the past but it might just see her through right now.
She didn't know how long she'd been absorbed in her work when Gina swept into the office without warning, slamming the door behind her. Sam frowned at the uncharacterisically demonstrative display and watched her friend as she prowled the office.
'Is this a guessing game?' she asked when no explanation was forthcoming.
Gina spun around, her hands on her hips. 'Who's the father of that baby? Tell me you know.'
The seriousness of her tone was unmistakable. 'I do,' she said.
'All right.' Gina paused and scrubbed her chin, belatedly sitting down. 'Sally Johnson has been stirring up trouble for the last few days, you must've heard about it.'
'Jack implied that her digging was the reason Danny Glaze did a moonlight flit but he clammed up when I pressed him about it. I had to rush off to the cot death case and, to be honest, it slipped my mind.' Sam crossed her arms. 'Gina, what's the connection?'
'Sally Johnson alleges that Geoff Simpson was fitted up for the firebombing,' Gina explained. 'It was Des and Danny who allegedly heard him confess. The fact that Danny's done a runner doesn't exactly scream 'innocent', does it?'
'Please tell me you're joking,' Sam said.
Gina sucked in her breath. 'It is Des's baby, isn't it?'
Given the circumstances, Sam didn't feel like she was betraying Sheelagh much by nodding. 'What's Johnson after?' she asked.
'An acquittal for Simpson,' Gina muttered. 'And she's not gonna stop until she gets it. She's already pushed Jack to involve the DPS. I didn't fancy admitting this to him but... I reckon Des is in this up to his neck. You remember your first day?'
She smiled briefly. 'Investigating Reg's kidnap by Simpson's thugs, yeah.' Halting, she chewed on her lip. 'What did you think of Des's behaviour at the time? I wasn't focused on him, though I do recall he wasn't especially helpful. In hindsight, that's not unusual with Des Taviner.'
'That as may be,' Gina said, 'but he was obstructive. He put Reg's life in danger.'
Sam silently contemplated that for a few seconds. Then she asked, 'How much is this talked about downstairs?'
'You mean how much does Sheelagh know?' Gina retorted. When Sam shrugged, she continued, 'She'll have heard the headlines but not the detail. Could be that she's picked up something with Sally Johnson poking around.'
'She's had other things on her mind,' Sam replied, massaging her neck.
'I bet.' Gina paused. 'How long have you known about the baby?'
'A few days,' she admitted. 'I pushed her to tell you.'
'Frankly, that's the least of my problems right now,' said Gina, standing up and approaching the door. Then she turned back. 'You know the other thing, don't you? Today's the unveiling of the memorial plaque for the victims of the fire. Sally Johnson couldn't have picked a better time to stir up a bloody hornets' nest.'
Leaving her with that thought, Gina left the office, the door rattling in its frame again. This time, Sam didn't even muster the pretence of work. She stood up and moved to the window, looking down into the yard and remembering the accounts of the Sun Hill fire that had preceded her arrival at the station. She couldn't shake the feeling that the accusations against Des rang true. Why else would Danny cut and run?
Was it possible that Sheelagh had just agreed to leave her husband for a man who might be charged with perjury any day now? An investigation by the DPS was going to be thorough and Sally Johnson's tenacity didn't bode well. Of course, if Des was guilty of what she was accusing him of then he needed to be brought to account. But there was no way of doing that without Sheelagh being hurt in the process. However jealous Sam had found herself in the last forty-eight hours she couldn't countenance wishing any sort of pain on Sheelagh. The fallout from this was going to be horrific.
As a senior officer, she was naturally expected to attend the plaque unveiling outside the front of the station. However, she took another look at the email announcing the dedication and she balked – Des was meant to be making a speech. She couldn't stand there and watch that, not knowing what she did about the ongoing enquiries. If Sheelagh attended she'd be sure to spot her unease. The one person she was trying to keep secrets from again was the one person who could read her like a book. Whatever the outcome of this Des business, it struck Sam all of a sudden that she was going to be concealing at least one thing from Sheelagh for the foreseeable future – no, forever; since she couldn't see any circumstances where unburdening her feelings to Sheelagh would seem like the right thing to do. It was ironic, really, that the moment Sheelagh had shattered the barrier of the last secret between them – the pregnancy – this new one had sprung up out of nowhere. First it was Glenn then Des and now this... There was no peace, no level playing field.
Closing the blinds so that her team would assume she was out, she made a concerted effort to continue with her paperwork. It was a strange day out there and no one bothered her prior to the plaque dedication. She knew she was clock-watching, waiting for it to be over but not knowing exactly what sign she expected to see when it was. However, she should've realised that it would come in the very tangible form of a knock at the door.
'Come in,' she called softly.
Sheelagh pushed the door open, her face worn. 'Aren't you coming downstairs to the buffet?'
Sam shook her head. 'How did the dedication go?'
'It...' Glancing over her shoulder, Sheelagh stepped inside and closed the door, leaning against it heavily. 'Des couldn't make his speech. He just ran off.'
Reaching for her coffee cup, she remembered just in time it was clap cold and let her hand fall back. She knew that Sheelagh hadn't missed her attempt to cover her unease – it was probably flashing in neon on her face.
'What do you know?' Sheelagh asked.
'Nothing,' she said unconvincingly.
'Don't,' murmured Sheelagh. 'Please don't you lie to me. What's going on?'
'I don't know anything for sure,' she admitted, inwardly wondering how many direct questions she was going to be compelled to answer in the future and how the hell she was going to manage it. 'You know Sally Johnson's been poking around, don't you?'
Sheelagh nodded. 'She had a go at him in the front office the other day. But I thought she was just mouthing off.' Her brow furrowed further. 'Are you saying there's more to it?'
'Whether it's for the sake of argument or not,' Sam said carefully, 'Jack's speaking to the DPS.'
The change in Sheelagh's expression was miniscule but it was enough for Sam to stand and round the desk, ready to catch her if necessary. Holding up a hand, Sheelagh steadied herself and her jaw set.
'I'm having this out with him, once and for all.' Dragging open the door, she glanced back. 'Thank you for being honest with me. Nobody else is.'
Sam shrugged that away, knowing there was no plausible reply. Standing in the middle of her office, she listened as Sheelagh fled through CID and heard the doors creak open and closed. Everybody else was downstairs, paying their respects and picking at the buffet. The silence was practically ringing in her ears. Slowly, she returned to her desk then changed her mind and walked to the window, looking again into the yard and picturing the old one instead.
She was surprised to see Des appear with a young black lad and open up one of the cars across by the wall. Dredging her memory, she recalled that Di Worrell had a son, probably about this age. The way he was with the boy was disarming, fatherly even. Sam watched it with mixed feelings. On the one hand, she didn't want Sheelagh sacrificing her marriage and comfortable family life to be with someone who wasn't going to give her any support. From the look of this, Des could be a good father if he wanted to be – and if he got the chance. However, that realisation reignited the jealousy in the pit of her stomach. That was accentuated when Sheelagh suddenly appeared by the car and motioned Des away for a chat. Whatever they discussed, it wasn't comfortable for either of them but, again, there was that physical intimacy that Sam envied. She was going to have to school herself into silence in the future where Des was concerned. That was assuming, of course, that there was actually a future where Des was concerned.
Outside, Sheelagh walked away and Des returned to the boy in the car. Sam sighed and turned back to her desk, dropping into her chair and reaching for her paperwork as a matter of course.
People gradually filtered back upstairs, mostly to collect their bags and coats. None of them bothered her and she didn't feel inclined to badger any of them either. Truth be told, she was only staying fixed to her desk because the prospect of going home was even less appetising. The last couple of nights she'd arrived home late and left Abi to her own devices, getting the same treatment in return. Tonight she might not get away with that and she couldn't fathom how her intelligent daughter might react to her current mood. She didn't feel particularly in control and she knew that her instinct was to lash out when she got like this. She'd done it before, pushing Sheelagh away when she felt out of control about Abi and Glenn. Even if she could feel herself doing it, she couldn't seem to stop herself sometimes. The last thing she wanted was another fracture with Abi, still less for her daughter to work out something was wrong with her.
So she buried herself in her never-ending stack of paperwork, intent on prolonging her working day for as long as possible. It was growing dark outside when someone fumbled with the door and stumbled in. Her instincts made her jump up and move around the desk, meaning that Sheelagh practically ran into her.
'Whoa, hey,' Sam said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and kicking the door shut. 'What's happened, what's wrong?'
Sheelagh just shook her head, tears dribbling down her cheeks. 'I'm sorry.'
'For what? Here – sit down,' she added, helping her into a chair then kneeling beside her, much as she had yesterday morning. 'You don't need to apologise to me.'
'You can't be doing much work with me bursting in here every five minutes,' Sheelagh muttered, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand.
Sam snorted and busied herself with digging out a tissue. Instead of bothering to offer the packet this time, she went through the ritual of drying Sheelagh's tears herself, wondering how transparent she looked. To mask her discomfort she rose to dispose of the tissue in the bin then took the opportunity to return to her own seat.
'What's wrong?' she repeated.
Sheelagh's eyes flickered. 'I can't...'
While her copper's instinct told her to push, Sam yielded to the more reticent portion of her brain, the part that dreaded hearing information about Sheelagh's relationship with Des. It was obviously him that had done this to her, unless...
'Does Patrick know?' she asked quietly.
'No,' Sheelagh murmured, reaching for another tissue.
Sam just nodded, uncertain of how to proceed. She wouldn't – couldn't – probe into the Des situation. She was hardly unbiased and, besides, with all these allegations swirling around him, she couldn't help but feel she was better off not knowing. Any further conflict between her loyalty towards Sheelagh and her loyalty towards the job wasn't a situation she wanted to find herself in, the Jameson case had been bad enough. If her brain was only using that as a cover to avoid her jealousy kicking in again then she'd gladly take it.
'Okay,' she said finally, checking her watch. 'Has your shift finished?'
Raising her chin, Sheelagh looked at her strangely for a few seconds, as though waiting for the interrogation. Then she answered, 'Ten minutes ago.'
'Are you all right to go home?' Sam questioned. 'I mean, you can stay here for as long as you want, I just –'
'Patrick's working the late shift,' Sheelagh interrupted with a pained smile. 'I've got to get home and make sure the boys haven't wrecked the place.'
Sam studied her, affection swirling around her stomach. 'You know, the house won't fall apart if you put yourself first tonight,' she said. 'You look like you need a break.'
'I'm okay,' Sheelagh replied.
Pursing her lips, Sam began shutting down her computer. 'I'm at least walking you to your car.'
'No, no, I've got to get changed and –'
'I'll wait,' she interjected. 'And that wasn't an opening for a debate by the way.'
Though her argument showed in her face, Sheelagh wisely swallowed it down. It only took Sam a minute to throw her things together and she grabbed her coat from the hook, spinning back to face Sheelagh with a firm expression on her face. When she held out a hand Sheelagh's lips twitched and she hooked her own fingers into it, allowing Sam to pull her up. Whether it was fatigue or a dizzy spell, Sheelagh wavered and Sam caught her, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady them both. It was only a few moments before she disentangled herself but it was enough to make her flush and she prayed it hadn't been noted.
'That's a reminder not to ask me to dance,' Sheelagh said with a wry smile.
'Maybe one day I'll take my chances,' Sam replied before she could stop herself. To cover her embarrassment, she yanked the door open and ushered Sheelagh through. 'Come on.'
That Sheelagh would be going into the locker room to get changed didn't permeate her brain until they were right outside, and then it was too late to backtrack. After all, there was nothing unusual in this, it was just what people did at the end of the day. But, suddenly, she was acutely aware that Sheelagh would be changing her shirt, changing out of her work trousers and, despite her breathing quickening, she was more panicked than anything else.
Sheelagh moved past her and went inside. 'It'll only take a minute.'
Sam hesitated in the doorway then shook herself and walked through, letting the door swing shut behind her. Sheelagh had gone to a locker that around the other side, giving Sam at least an opportunity to hang back around the bank of lockers closest to the door. This was almost worse, imagining what was going on just out of sight. She combated it by remembering that even if she could see Sheelagh what would likely be the compelling feature would be her swollen stomach. That was enough to cool her down a touch, though her cheeks were probably still flaming.
'How's Abigail?' Sheelagh called.
Sam deposited her bag at her feet and slipped her hands into her pockets. 'She wants a tattoo,' she answered. 'So normal service has resumed really.'
Sheelagh let out a weak chuckle, an attempt to sound like herself. 'I can imagine the response.'
'It was colourful,' Sam admitted. 'But she took it well. I rather enjoyed it actually.'
'I bet,' Sheelagh answered and there was the rustle of clothing. A hanger in her locker thwacked against the metal and creaked back and forth. After a moment, she continued, 'When I came to see you, when you were on leave after the whole Glenn thing...'
Sam's mouth, perilously dry already, felt like a desert all of a sudden. The recollection of having Sheelagh in her house – sat at her kitchen table, filling in her crossword clues and leaving smiley faces on the bottom of the page – took on a new flavour. Sheelagh had asked her that day if she had room in her life for a man. What had she said? Something about being able to let the right person in but insisting it wasn't going to happen. In hindsight that morning seemed so different.
'Sam?' Sheelagh prompted.
She cleared her throat. 'I remember.'
'We were talking about Abi and...reminding you of Glenn,' said Sheelagh slowly. 'Whether she did or not, whether she was anything like him.'
Leaning her shoulder against the nearest locker, Sam swallowed. 'I remember,' she repeated.
There was an excruciating pause and the sound of Sheelagh pulling on her trousers and zipping them up before she asked, 'I know you love Abigail. You're her mother, of course you do. But did you...'
Despite her reservations, Sam found herself rounding the bank of lockers, finding Sheelagh about to pull on a t-shirt. The image of her in her bra imprinted itself on Sam's brain before she could do anything about it then she forced her eyes upwards. Sheelagh tugged her t-shirt over her head, her small bump more visible now than it was in her police uniform. Self-consciously, she ran her hands over it and reached for her jacket.
Now it was Sam's turn to prompt, 'Sheelagh?'
She took a few deep breaths. 'Did you worry she might be like him – inside?'
'Yes,' she murmured, scrutinising Sheelagh's face. Whatever Des had told her today had carved a hole right into her; she looked as though she was haunted. 'But the important thing is that she wasn't. Like I said, she's me through and through.'
'Yes, but –'
'She wasn't,' Sam interrupted firmly, stretching a hand to Sheelagh's arm. 'Come on, you need to get home, out of this place.'
Sheelagh clenched her jaw but nodded and took her boots to the bench, struggling with the laces. Sam bit back her urge to press forward and help her, realising that something as fundamental as dressing was something that Sheelagh needed to do on her own. She dipped her eyes and let Sheelagh fumble until she made knots on both boots then she shakily stood and returned to her locker. Grabbing her bag, she slammed the door and rested her forehead against it briefly.
Now Sam did step forward, hooking her arm through Sheelagh's. 'I don't know about trusting you to drive home safely,' she said.
Sheelagh allowed herself to be led to the door then she murmured, 'Your bag.'
'Right, yeah...'
With a grimace, she backtracked and retrieved it. At least it gave Sheelagh a smile as they trudged along the corridor, making Sam feel marginally better about her unease that Sheelagh couldn't fail to notice. She only hoped that she attributed it to friendly concern rather than anything else.
They probably cut a strange pair, walking through to the front office with identical preoccupied expressions. Sam didn't need to look sideways to know how drained Sheelagh looked, nor did she need a mirror to realise how altered she appeared in the last few days. She was amazed that Sheelagh hadn't picked up it but perhaps she was too lost in her own pain.
Outside in the late summer breeze, Sheelagh nearly buckled under the slight pressure. Sam pressed an arm around her waist, steering her towards where she knew she usually parked her car. However, all at once she felt Sheelagh stiffen. Following her glance, Sam saw Des hanging around in the shadows, his jacket glistening under the street lamps. Instantly, her grip on Sheelagh's waist tightened and she felt Sheelagh lean against her.
'Come on,' Sam said, refusing to let their joint steps falter.
When they reached the car Sheelagh paused and looked around apprehensively. Then she refocused on Sam. 'Thank you.'
'I didn't do anything,' she returned, clumping her free hand into her pocket. 'Go on. My job's not done until you're in that car and driving home. Go on,' she repeated when Sheelagh hesitated. 'I'm right here.'
Slowly, Sheelagh went through the motions of getting into the car and starting the engine. She glanced through the side window once, smiled, and then drove away sluggishly. Sam was left in the car park alone, distant from her own car but not really caring. It took her a few moments to remember that she couldn't stand there all night. With a wry smile at her own stupidity, she threaded her way through the cars until she found hers.
'I bet you reckon you're smart, don't you?' Though the voice startled her she endeavoured not to show it.
'Problem, PC Taviner?' she queried, unlocking her car and tossing her bag onto the back seat. Resting casually against the door, she tried to pretend she didn't know anything about his alleged misdeeds or that he was the father of Sheelagh's baby.
'What were you doing with Sergeant Murphy just then?' he demanded.
She bristled. 'I was walking my friend to her car because she was feeling under the weather. In her condition, that's hardly surprising, is it?'
Uncertainty flickered across his face. 'Friend?' he said.
'Yes, Des,' she retorted. 'It's common knowledge around here that Sheelagh and I are friends. Anybody paying the slightest bit of attention would've noticed.'
That blow struck home. Intermingled with her jealousy of Des was suddenly a surge of pity – he really had no idea, did he? Somehow he'd persuaded Sheelagh to go to bed with him, he'd got her pregnant and he'd just promised her to be there for her if she left her husband, but he didn't know her. Was that his fault or Sheelagh's? Well, she'd hardly been subtle in the last few months about their friendship. If Tony Stamp had noticed for God's sake, if he'd had the intelligence to bring a concern about Sheelagh's welfare to her instead of Gina, then why hadn't Des seen it? Unless... Another thought irresistibly burrowed into her brain. Had Sheelagh deliberately kept their friendship away from Des's attention? If she had, what did that mean?
'Night, Guv,' Des muttered abruptly, sliding off into the shadows like a phantom.
She stood still for another minute, schooling herself away from the enticing thought that had lurched into her head. If Des didn't know about her relationship with Sheelagh then it must be his own ignorance showing itself. Sheelagh had no reason to hide it – to her they were just friends. What else could they be?
Settling in the driving seat, Sam leaned forward and rested her head briefly on the steering wheel. Then she sat bolt upright and ground the engine ferociously into life. She had to get a grip. She was going to be no use to her colleagues, Abi or Sheelagh at this rate.
The next day she made a concerted effort to harass her team. She knew how little they appreciated it from the grumbles as she returned to her office but at least she knew she was doing her job properly today. By half past nine she had a clear idea of everyone's caseload and was already mentally shuffling things about if, for instance, Ken failed to make headway with a spate of aggravated robberies he was working on. She liked this sort of puzzle, liked it almost as much profiling criminals and banging them up afterwards. It was a part of the job she'd expected to hate, managing people, and she was surprised to realise she'd miss it if she didn't make the permanent DI's role. Though with her exam results due any day now, she'd know soon enough if the role was going to be an option or not.
Focusing on the job took her mind superficially off Sheelagh. As soon as the flurry of activity in CID had died down and she was stuck in her office while her team ranted about her on the opposite side of the door, she found her mind ticking back to what the hell had happened with Sheelagh last night and how she was today.
It was plain that Des had said something which had massively disturbed her equilibrium. The two options, in Sam's eyes, were that he'd backtracked on his original offer to make a go of it or that he'd admitted to perjury. Which of those was worse? Either way Sheelagh was going to end up as single mother in a mess – if she insisted on being honest with Patrick, that is. Sam had no reason to believe she could backtrack on that decision. She'd seen what the guilt had done to Sheelagh over the last few months and she knew that it was unsustainable. Her desire to ignore the idea of the baby had put both of them in danger. More than anything else, Sam knew she had to prevent that happening again.
She had to nip down to custody to check on Ken's progress with a suspect he'd brought in. After that her route, quite naturally, took her past the Sergeants' Office but it was empty. Despite the fact that she was metres from the back staircase, she spun around and went to the next logical place – the bathrooms. Sure enough, Sheelagh was there, leaning against the sink with a vacant expression on her face. She didn't even hear the door open. Her detachment gave Sam a greedy moment to examine her then she cleared her face and stepped forward.
'Hey,' she said gently.
It must've been her familiar voice that made Sheelagh jump out of her skin. Resting her hands over her stomach, she attempted a smile. 'Morning.'
'You look miles away,' Sam said.
Turning to the sink, Sheelagh rinsed her hands then took her time drying them. Sam recognised it for the distraction technique it was but didn't draw attention to it. After a minute or so, Sheelagh murmured, 'I'm going to tell Patrick tonight.'
Now Sam felt the need to lean on something. In what she hoped was a nonchalant manner, she turned her shoulder to the wall. 'Okay,' she said slowly.
Not for the first time in recent days, Sheelagh looked at her as though she'd grown another head. In fairness it felt like she had. 'Why aren't you asking more questions?'
'Would that make things easier on you?' she retorted.
'No,' Sheelagh admitted, 'but I like knowing what you think. It's one less thing I have to guess about.'
That made her shoulders slump. 'I don't mean to be another problem for you to catalogue,' she said.
Sheelagh covered her face briefly. 'I didn't mean that. I just... You're holding back what you think, aren't you? You think I'm crazy.'
'I don't,' Sam said sincerely. 'I understand why you can't lie to Patrick.'
'But?' Sheelagh pressed.
'You were very upset last night, that's all,' she answered. 'I don't know if you're thinking clearly.'
Taking a long breath, Sheelagh muttered, 'I'm thinking of my baby.'
'Well, that I can empathise with,' Sam said, pushing off from the wall and approaching Sheelagh gingerly. 'I'm not asking you to tell me what's going on because I'm pretty certain that if you do...'
She let the sentence trail off and Sheelagh managed a weak smile. 'I don't want to involve you in my mess,' she said, 'not if I can help it.'
'So we understand each other,' Sam said, though she couldn't shake the feeling that they really didn't. 'I just want to make sure that you know what you're doing.'
'I don't,' Sheelagh admitted, biting down on her lip.
Sam sighed and reached out a hand to her shoulder. 'If you do need to talk about it... It won't go any further.'
Sheelagh's head snapped up. 'You can't promise that.'
'I can,' she said firmly. 'As far as I'm concerned, we've never had this conversation.'
'I can't put you in that position,' answered Sheelagh with an air of finality she couldn't mistake.
Sam attempted a smile. 'You do what you need to do with Patrick,' she said. 'You know where I am if you need anything. I don't care what,' she added.
Meeting her eye, Sheelagh inhaled deeply and stepped towards the door. 'I'd better call Patrick, check he's going to be in later.'
'Are you sure about this?' Sam questioned before she could help herself.
With the door halfway open, Sheelagh glanced back. 'No,' she murmured as she stepped out into the bustle of the corridor.
Left alone in the bathroom, Sam sighed. All that conversation had told her was that Des had admitted something to Sheelagh that she couldn't pass on – he'd admitted to the perjury. Sam wished she was able to judge Sheelagh for her reticence but she understood it too well, except her reluctance to tell Abi the truth about Glenn was based on a crime with time served instead of something primed for prosecution. This was a dangerous game, one that she wished Sheelagh wasn't involved in.
Concentrating on work that afternoon was difficult. Her mind kept tripping back to what might be going on with Sheelagh, how she was feeling about her decision, whether she'd be able to live with keeping Des's perjury secret. She could hardly ask her any of those questions outright so perhaps it was best that she didn't have another opportunity to go downstairs.
'Guv, have you heard?'
Sam looked up sharply at Eva's voice in the doorway. 'Heard what?'
'The area car's crashed into a warehouse, it's on fire,' Eva said. 'Smithy called it in but looks like Des and Reg are inside.'
She'd dropped her pen and was halfway around the desk before she realised it. 'Where's Sergeant Murphy?' she asked.
Eva's brow creased. 'Dunno, Guv, why? She won't be dealing with it.'
She swallowed. 'What about Inspector Gold?'
'CAD I think,' Eva said.
'Okay, thanks,' she said, patting her arm as she slipped past.
The station was in uproar, reminding Sam of the stampede to attend when Matt Boyden had been shot. She'd remained upstairs back then, drifting to the window and watching uniform responding, waiting for the confirmation call before gravitating towards the one person she always gravitated towards when something went wrong around here. And now she was almost the last person she wanted to see as she rushed downstairs, at least not until she knew what the hell was going on.
She located Gina outside CAD, resting her head back against the wall and looking faintly sick.
'Gina?' she said as she skidded to a halt beside her.
Glancing at her, she saw the question in her eyes. 'She doesn't know, she's not in the station. The Super needed a lift to the Yard.'
'Well, that's something,' Sam muttered. 'What happened?'
Gina shook her head. 'No one knows yet. Area car was in pursuit, Smithy and Tony assisting. Pursued suspect into a warehouse and the whole thing went up. Smithy pulled Reg from the car but couldn't see Des.'
'Couldn't get to him or couldn't see him?' pressed Sam.
'I don't know, I don't know.' Gina dug her nails into her forehead. 'I'm not sure when Sheelagh's due back.'
'You can't let her walk into this blind,' Sam said.
Gina sighed then nodded her agreement. She motioned them out of the thoroughfare, heading to the briefing room as the nearest source of peace. She pulled out her mobile and dialled, explaining, 'He'll answer if he knows it's me.'
Sam tapped her heel as she waited, unable to stem the thoughts whizzing through her brain. Whatever had happened out there was going to hit Sheelagh like a ton of bricks. She was pregnant, she'd already been hospitalised once in the last week because of the stress of her situation. Hearing that Des was missing, probably dead, was going to put her baby's life in danger, maybe even her own.
'Sir,' Gina said suddenly as Adam evidently answered the call. 'We've got a serious incident on our hands, we need you back here. The area car's crashed and the building it crashed into has exploded. PC Hollis is seriously injured, he's been taken to hospital. PC Taviner is still missing.' She listened for a moment. 'Good, good,' she said. 'And Sergeant Murphy's still with you?' Another pause and her expession altered. 'Oh. Well, I'll see you back here then.'
As soon as she hung up, Sam questioned, 'What? What's wrong?'
Gina scratched her cheek. 'Sheelagh didn't take him to the Yard.'
Sam stared at her. 'So where the hell is she?'
'I don't know!' The flicker of panic that crossed her face was minute but it was enough to set Sam's stomach on fire. Steadying herself, Gina checked her watch. 'She's giving evidence at Polly's trial later. Could be she decided she didn't want to risk getting stuck at the Yard and just passed the job on.'
'Well, she can't be in the station,' Sam argued.
'No,' Gina conceded. 'Listen, I have to coordinate. Find her, would you? At the court if all else fails.' Heading for the door, she paused and glanced back. 'Maybe she's better off out of it until we know whether he's dead or not.'
Leaving her with that thought, Gina swept off back towards CAD. Sam was slower to exit, not liking the implications that statement threw up anymore than she appreciated the desolation of the station at the moment. It was too quiet, too foreboding.
While she was downstairs she checked everywhere plausible for Sheelagh – custody, the bathroom, the canteen, the locker room, the front office. No one she spoke to had seen her for at least the last hour. It wasn't like Sheelagh to disappear off-radar like this, especially not when she was supposed to be on restricted duties. It could be that she'd gone to the court early but Sam didn't buy that – they spent enough time hanging around those buildings without arriving two hours before the start of proceedings. No – something was amiss and she didn't like it.
The way she saw it, there were two options: Sheelagh actually had heard of the crash and was at the scene already or, worse, something had happened with the baby and she'd taken herself off to hospital. The first Sam could check, and she was heading back to CAD when Ken collared her.
'Guv,' he said, 'a Mr Hyten is here to see you, says he's got an appointment.'
She growled but nodded her thanks. Mr Hyten was a particularly grouchy assault victim she'd smoothed things over with a few weeks ago. She forgot that she'd asked him to come in to discuss a potential complaint and it wasn't the kind of thing she could get out of easily. Her only hope was that she could get the conversation over with quickly.
Half an hour later and she was on her way to court, recognising that Sheelagh's turn to give evidence was much closer now than it had been before. She managed to get stuck in a traffic jam the length of the High Street and beyond which set her swearing and she was a breath away from flashing her warrant card and mounting the kerb when things finally started moving again. If Sheelagh hadn't turned up there then she'd start panicking but, given her sense of responsibility, she'd probably be there come what may. Hopefully Sam hadn't missed her.
That hope seemed misplaced. Sheelagh was nowhere to be seen when she got to court but a quick word with the clerk determined that she'd given her evidence as planned. Sam hovered in the corridor outside the court then asked the clerk if any of her colleagues were listening to proceedings. Learning that June Ackland was in there gave her a moment's pause – she still wasn't happy that June had heard about the pregnancy before she had – but this was too important for petty grievances and she asked the clerk to pull her out.
When June arrived a few minutes later she seemed preoccupied. 'What are you doing here? Is this to do with the area car crash?' she asked. 'Have they found Des?'
'Where's Sheelagh?' Sam countered.
June blinked. 'What do you mean, Ma'am?'
Hiding her emotions had never been one of June's strong points from what Sam could tell. Rapidly, she assessed what she thought was going through her mind then decided she didn't have time for these games.
'Have you seen Sheelagh?' she questioned. 'It's important I find her. I know she's given her evidence so where is she?'
Gesturing them towards a bank of seats, June sat down heavily. 'She didn't know about the area car crash. I had to tell her and... Look, Samantha, with respect, I don't think it's appropriate for me –'
'Okay,' she cut in, rubbing her neck, 'I'm gonna have to assume she's told you everything. Listen, I know why hearing Des Taviner was in that car would've affected her so much. I know about the baby – that's why I'm so worried about her. Please, June, I need to find her.'
After examining her face, Jude inclined her head. 'Yeah, she was upset. I didn't realise why it was gonna be such a shock or I would've taken more care with it. She wouldn't allow me to call a car for her. She said she was going to the hospital to see Reg.'
'Thank you,' Sam murmured, spinning around.
'Samantha?' June's voice brought her back. 'There's something else you should know.'
'Go on,' she said slowly.
'Before coming to court, Sheelagh was with Patrick,' said June. 'She told him everything. He's packing a bag and leaving her tonight.'
Swearing softly, Sam dug her hands into her pockets. With one final nod at June, she turned and strode out of the court, banging shoulders with a few people and barely mustering apologies. Until she was out in the open air she didn't pause for breath then she ducked around the corner towards her car, hesitating only briefly to gather her thoughts. Then she swallowed and slipped into the driver's seat. She didn't have a clue what she was going to say to Sheelagh when she tracked her down but she'd have to work that part out when she got to the hospital.
Flashing her warrant card was at least a guaranteed way to gain access and information in situations like this. She easily tracked down Reg's room but it was empty apart from the unconscious figure with severe burns. Sam pressed her lips together, said a prayer to a God she didn't believe in, then went in search of a nurse. Holding up her warrant card again got her attention.
'I'm looking for a colleague who may have visited PC Hollis,' she explained as smoothly as she could. 'Sergeant Sheelagh Murphy – blonde, Irish.'
The nurse nodded. 'Yeah, she left a few minutes ago.'
Sam sighed. 'I don't suppose she said where she was going?'
'Sorry, no.'
'Okay, thanks,' she said, attempting a smile.
Returning to her car, she leaned back in her seat and rubbed her eyes and tried to logic this out. Sheelagh was behaving, really, just like she would under the circumstances. She was looking for answers. First she went to the hospital, hoping that Reg would be able to talk. When he wasn't... Sam turned the key in the ignition. When Reg couldn't talk the only option left for Sheelagh was to go straight to the source of the distress – the warehouse.
A quick call to Eva confirmed the accident site and it only took her a few minutes to get there. She left her car at a distance from the cordon and walked in, the stench of burning chemicals still scorching her nostrils. The firefighters were damping down and there was a clear presence of both police officers and accident investigators. It took Sam barely a minute to scan the crowd and find a familiar flash of blonde hair stood as close to the scene as she could be.
While her instinct was to approach her, Sam held back. Her goal had been to find Sheelagh and she'd done that. Now she had to consider the other problems, mainly that Sheelagh had just ended her marriage and was staring at the spot where her baby's father had just been incinerated, for want of a nicer word. Tonight she was meant to be going home and no doubt telling her other children their dad had moved out. If her kids were anything like their mother they'd demand to know why and Sheelagh had already been hospitalised once this week. Sam couldn't take that risk with her health.
One of the officers manning the cordon was a young female constable, probably from Barton Street. Ascertaining that Sheelagh's attention was fixed well away from her, Sam sidled up to the constable and flashed her warrant card.
'DI Nixon, Sun Hill,' she said with one of her best smiles. 'Don't worry, I'm not badgering you for information, I know that's down to the investigation team. I just really need a favour.' She gestured discreetly towards Sheelagh. 'That's my colleague over there, Sergeant Murphy. She was very close to the officer who's missing in there. I've got to go back to the nick for a little while but I could really do with knowing if she leaves. Would you be able to let me know if she looks like she's going? You know what it's like when it's one of your own.'
The constable nodded quickly, obviously overawed by the attempt at comradeship, exactly what Sam had been going for.
'Thank you,' she continued, pulling out her card and handing it over. 'I'll be back within the hour at the latest.'
With one last look at Sheelagh, Sam smiled at the constable and returned to her car. She'd rapidly formulated a plan, examining Sheelagh's brittle figure, and she needed to put it in motion before time ran out.
It took her twenty minutes to reach the Murphy house and she was starting to worry she'd missed Patrick. The cab wasn't in the drive and, because of that, she didn't fancy knocking on the door. She dithered in the car for a few minutes and then Patrick's taxi appeared. WIth a sigh of relief, she got out of her car and approached him before he reached his front door.
'Patrick?' she asked. 'We haven't met. I'm Samantha Nixon, I work with Sheelagh.'
A glimmer of recognition crossed his face. 'You're the DI, aren't you? Has something happened?'
'She's not injured but...' Pausing, Sam tried to phrase this in a way that didn't sound like she was asking for Patrick's help dealing with the death of his wife's lover. 'There was an incident at work today,' she continued. 'A couple of our officers were involved in a serious crash. One of them's in hospital with serious burns, the other's missing, presumed dead.'
His brow creased. 'Do I know them?'
'I can't really tell you anymore,' she replied, dodging around the issue in case Sheelagh had involved Des's name in this. 'The thing is, I know what's gone on between you and Sheelagh today, I know you're here to collect some clothes but... Listen, Patrick,' she continued, meeting his eye and conveying her sincere sympathy, 'I know this is asking a lot. I'm not asking for Sheelagh so much as the kids. She's in a state, she's not going to be able to deal with their questions.'
Crossing his arms, he muttered, 'I can't spend a night in this house with her, not after what she's done.'
'No, no, I understand,' Sam said, 'that wasn't what I was asking. I'd like to take Sheelagh home with me for the night.'
'I didn't know you were that close,' he said suspiciously.
For a fleeting moment Sam was hurt that, once more, a man in Sheelagh's life didn't seem aware of their friendship. Then a little voice whispered that there could be a reason for that – quickly drowned out by her logical side reminding her that those ideas were pure fantasy. Even so, the reason Sheelagh had been reticent about their friendship didn't really matter – they both believed in the strength of it by now, they didn't have to wave it around to prove it was important. It just was. Sam knew that, if the situation here was reversed, Sheelagh would be doing this for her.
'Sheelagh's been a great friend to me since she arrived at Sun Hill,' she explained after a few moments. 'I'm trying to repay the favour. I know you don't want to cause anymore upset for the kids than you have to. Please – stay with them tonight.'
Finally, he nodded. 'Okay. Just for one night though.'
'Thank you,' she said sincerely.
'Wait out here,' he said. 'I'll get her overnight bag.'
He disappeared into the house and she went back to the car. It was strange, she thought as she slipped into the driver's seat and felt exhaustion nipping at her muscles. Her jealousy of Des had been acute, even when she hadn't known what it was she was feeling. But with Patrick she didn't feel jealous. She almost felt an affinity with him as the unwanted one. Besides, if she could choose any man for Sheelagh now it'd be the kind, dependable husband and not the testy PC who'd been implicated in perjury before the accident in that warehouse. Sheelagh's life was in bits thanks to Des Taviner and Sam wished there was a route to alleviate her pain. For now, though, at least she could do something tangible and give Sheelagh the respite of a night away from home.
Patrick appeared just a few minutes later with a black holdall. He passed it over without a word and returned to his front door like a man who wasn't sure of his purpose in life anymore. Sam watched him close the front door and sighed. Des Taviner had a lot to answer for, even if he never would.
Before driving off, she pulled her phone out and dialled home. Abi picked up on the fifth ring.
'Hiya, sweetheart,' Sam said.
Letting out a soft groan, Abi asked, 'You're going to be late again, aren't you?'
'It's not that,' she answered. 'Is there any chance you could stay at your Aunty Caroline's tonight? Or with one of your friends?'
'Why? Wait, are you in trouble again? Is someone after you?'
Sam smiled at her daughter's concern. 'It's nothing like that. It's just... Well, Sheelagh's had some bad news and I'm bringing her home for the night.'
'Sheelagh?' Abi repeated. 'Listen, if this is a cover story and you're bringing a man back –'
'That's not it,' she cut in, feeling herself flush anyway. 'I'll fill you in when I get the chance, darling, but I do need your help in this.'
After a moment, Abi said, 'Yeah, if it's for Sheelagh. I'll go to Aunty Caroline's.
'Thank you,' Sam replied before hanging up.
Travelling back to the accident site didn't seem to take long at all. Everything was as she'd left it – the same constable on the cordon who gave her a nod when she pulled up and Sheelagh staring into the destroyed warehouse with a haunted expression on her face. Sam watched her for a minute then steeled herself and slipped inside the cordon. She approached her tentatively, not wanting to spook her.
'Hey,' she said softly.
Sheelagh slowly looked sideways, as if stirring from a dream. 'Sam...'
The broken tone of voice pierced right through her. She slipped an arm around Sheelagh's shoulders, squeezing tight. 'Come on,' she said, 'you're coming home with me.'
Frowning, Sheelagh murmured, 'I can't, I've got to... You don't know –'
'I know more than you think,' Sam interrupted, beginning to steer her away from the crash site. 'I've spoken to Patrick, he's gonna stay one more night because the kids seeing you like this won't do anybody any good. He's packed you an overnight bag, it's in the car.'
Though she allowed herself to be led to the car, it was plain Sheelagh was still confused. When Sam opened the car door for her she stood motionless. 'I don't understand.'
'Just listen to me,' Sam said firmly, meeting her eye. 'You're coming home with me. The kids are fine, Patrick's with them, so that means I can look after you and the baby. You don't have a say in this so you might as well come quietly.'
Apparently stunned, Sheelagh allowed herself to be urged into the passenger seat. After a moment of deliberation, Sam tugged on the seatbelt and stretched across her to plug it in. It brought her cheek close to Sheelagh's lips and she withdrew as quickly as possible. Sheelagh had done this for her once, she suddenly remembered, and, judging from the way her friend blinked and momentarily returned to the real world, she recalled it too. Closing the door, Sam took a long breath and then rounded the car, slotting into her own seat and glancing once at Sheelagh before she set off.
The journey was silent. Now she'd developed and implemented a plan, Sam was left with the hardening reality that Sheelagh was going to be spending the night in her house. What had seemed like a natural way to soothe Sheelagh's pain had unwittingly left her open to discovery. However inappropriate it was, the prospect of taking Sheelagh home with her sent a thrill scuttling through her body. Then she had to forcibly remind herself what had happened today and what Sheelagh was enduring. By the time they'd reached the house she was feeling marginally more capable of dealing with this bizarre situation.
She had to help Sheelagh from the car, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her into the house, balancing the overnight bag on her other arm. Only when she'd deposited her and the bag on the sofa did she start to feel awkward again and then she stood in the middle of her own living room with her coat on unsure what to do next.
Finally, Sheelagh lifted her head. 'What about Abi?'
'She's staying with her aunt, don't worry about that.' Sam shrugged her coat off and folded it over her arm. 'I'll need to change her bed for you. What have you eaten today?'
'I couldn't,' Sheelagh said with a grimace.
'Wrong answer,' Sam replied. 'I'll make you a sandwich or something. Make yourself at home,' she added as she moved back to the hallway and hung up her coat.
Her next port of call was the kitchen and she rustled up a plain ham sandwich and a cup of tea, heartily wishing she could offer Sheelagh something stronger. When she took it through she was rewarded with a small smile, as though Sheelagh still thought she was trapped in some weird dream, then she left her to it. No one liked to be watched while they ate and, truth be told, Sam needed the space. She took her time changing the covers on Abi's bed, needlessly tidying up a few things in the room while she was at it. She was disturbed by her mobile ringing in the hall downstairs and rushed down to retrieve it from her coat pocket. Sheelagh was immediately in the doorway of the living room, gnawing on her lip.
Sam glanced at the display then answered it without hesitation: 'Hello?'
'When the DCI asks where you were,' Gina said without preamble, 'you were with a snout from your DS days, all right?'
'I hadn't even thought about the fact I'd done a disappearing act,' she admitted, too aware of Sheelagh's presence. 'Thanks, Gina.'
'I take it you found her,' she said.
Nodding, Sam replied, 'She's staying with me tonight. Any news?' she asked, seeing the question in Sheelagh's eyes.
'No body,' Gina said shortly. 'Precious little else though. I'll see you tomorrow.'
'Yeah,' Sam murmured before hanging up. To Sheelagh she said, 'I'm sorry – nothing.'
It looked like she'd been expecting it. No one could be at that crash site and not know the worst had happened, even when there was still a glimmer of hope at the back of their mind. Sam knew, though, that the last thing Sheelagh needed at this moment was a dissection of her problems. Ushering her back into the living room, Sam nodded pointedly to the uneaten sandwich.
'I don't see you eating anything,' Sheelagh murmured.
'Well, I will if you will,' she countered.
'If that's my best offer I don't have a choice,' said Sheelagh, sitting down and making a concerted effort to force herself to eat.
Sam lingered for a moment then went to the kitchen to keep up her end of the bargain. When she returned with her own sandwich she hesitantly perched on the edge of the armchair and they sat in silence for a few minutes. Her eyes landed on the clock, discovering it was past nine, though it felt much later.
Putting her plate aside, Sheelagh asked, 'How did Patrick seem?'
Grimacing, Sam said, 'He's a good man, he understood it was the right thing to do for tonight.'
'That wasn't what I asked,' Sheelagh pointed out softly.
'He's hurt,' Sam answered eventually. 'Of course he's hurt. I told him the bare minimum about what had happened and he agreed to stay with the kids. That was the extent of the conversation.'
After absorbing that, Sheelagh said, 'You left work and came looking for me.'
Sam shrugged. 'Yeah.'
There was a fraction of a second where she thought Sheelagh might interrogate her motives but she didn't. Fresh tears appeared in her eyes and she just nodded. 'Thank you.' Then she took a long breath and reached for the overnight bag, toying with the zip. 'I think I need to sleep, if you don't mind.'
'Of course not,' Sam said, secretly relieved. 'It's the top of the stairs, turn left. If you need anything –'
'You've done enough,' Sheelagh cut in as she stood. She hesitated in the doorway. 'I don't know what happens next,' she murmured.
Sam also rose, floating across the room propelled by something other than her common sense. 'Now's not the time to be thinking about that, trust me,' she said. 'We'll deal with it in the morning.'
'We?' repeated Sheelagh with a strange smile.
It had tripped off her tongue without her realising but she did her best to swat it away. 'I've gotta look after you,' she retorted. 'You know all my dark secrets, remember.'
Leaning forward, Sheelagh wrapped an arm around her and buried her face into her shoulder. Sam closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, enjoyed the contact for what it was, yet still managed to change her expression into something akin to concerned friendship when Sheelagh withdrew.
'Night,' Sheelagh murmured as she trudged up the staircase with her bag.
'Goodnight,' Sam said, watching her go.
Alone, she made a concerted effort to go about her usual routines, aware the entire time of the floorboard creaks and clatters. Sheelagh going into the bathroom, Sheelagh brushing her teeth, Sheelagh closing the bedroom door then opening it again. Every noise in the house seemed magnified, though when the noises finally ceased the torture of that was almost worse. Sam resorted to the bottle of wine she had in the fridge, gulping down a glass quickly to fluff her brain up a little, at least so she might doze off quickly enough when she went to bed.
Perhaps the wine was to blame for what she did when she crept upstairs an hour later. Abigail's door was ajar – for whatever reason Sheelagh had decided she wanted a little light filtering in from the landing. Sam couldn't resist inching towards the gap, hearing the regular breathing of a woman deep in sleep from the darkness beyond. Her eyes adjusted to the extent that she could see Sheelagh curled up, one arm outside the covers protecting her stomach and the other tucked underneath her chin.
A couple of days ago Sam wouldn't have thought anything of this. But now... She rested her head against the doorframe and pressed her lips together. Now things had changed. She couldn't help but wonder where the hell they went from here.
