Sam didn't feel much like herself at the moment.
It was like she was swimming against the current, trying to keep her head above water then losing her focus and sliding back again. So she allowed herself to be swept along, following the current where it led her – and, invariably, it led her back to Sheelagh.
On the morning when she'd woken up to remember that Sheelagh was sleeping just across the hall in Abi's bedroom, the knowledge had set her body on fire. She wasn't proud of it. She was still adjusting to thinking of a woman in that way, besides the fact that it was wildly inappropriate considering what Sheelagh was going through right at that moment. But she couldn't help where her thoughts wandered to as she lay in bed that morning until she pushed them to the back of her mind and set about her day, ensuring Sheelagh ate something and getting her into work. That brought about fresh aches because she realised immediately that she liked having Sheelagh around in the morning. She wasn't usually good company first thing – she liked her own routines and plotting her day in her head – but she'd enjoyed Sheelagh's presence that morning, and she'd missed it since.
Keeping her distance was something she knew in her head was the right thing to do, but her heart was having none of it – Sheelagh needed her and there was no way she was retreating from that. Besides, she was physically drawn to her side. In the past she'd joked about a magnetic pull bringing her to Sheelagh; at least now she knew what was really behind it. After Juliet's death, for instance, she'd somehow found time to call Patrick and fill him in, despite trying to focus on the Alan Best murder investigation. Then, left alone with Sheelagh in Gina's office, she'd succumbed to the temptation of comforting her. She could still summon up Sheelagh's weight against her as she'd rested into the crook of her neck. It was an exquisite moment, made all the more precious because it was so unexpected. Sam had never felt more unbalanced and content at the same time. She'd savoured every second, closing her eyes and breathing in Sheelagh's scent. Then Gina had startled them both and she'd felt a wave of panic at discovery. She couldn't wait to get away after that, though she'd fulfilled her promise to take Sheelagh home. Once again, her resolution to keep her distance was rocked by the simple lyrics of 'I've Been Waiting For You' as they drove along – she'd never listen to that song in the same way again. But she couldn't have imagined as she'd watched Sheelagh into the house that night how complication was going to be heaped on complication the next day.
Hearing from June that Des was alive shouldn't have triggered any twinge of personal disappointment, but she had to admit it had. The professional anxiety was more prevalent though; the unremitting belief that Des really would be better off dead as Sheelagh had suggested. The morning before, at home, Sheelagh had tacitly admitted to the perjury, protecting Sam's professional integrity by keeping it vague. She'd appreciated that, she'd thought they understood each other. They had to an extent but what Sheelagh was protecting her from was something far worse than perjury. All the puzzle pieces clicked into place when she located Sheelagh in the bathroom and heard the full, unvarnished truth. She understood everything all of a sudden – Sheelagh's distress, her questions about Abi and Glenn, why Des had gone into meltdown and nearly killed Reg.
And yet... She'd been willing to close her ears and pretend Sheelagh had told her nothing. She recognised more than anyone else would the opportunity to give Sheelagh's unborn child the gift of obliviousness that she'd tried and failed to give Abi. Regardless of what Des had done, his son or daughter didn't deserve to suffer for it. Of course, as a police officer, her instinct was to go straight to Jack but, not for the first time in the last few weeks, her professional instincts were overruled. Despite knowing that she was giving valuable escape time to a copper on the run, she'd known she had to give Sheelagh the time to adjust to the new twist. If things were going to crumble further she at least deserved any respite she could grab.
That had held until her methodical mind had started ticking over the possibilities in the early hours and she'd realised that Des was still a danger to Sheelagh. He was reckless by nature and had nothing to lose anymore. Sheelagh was out of his reach, whether he knew that now or not, but the baby was a different matter. If she'd been looking for a way of persuading Sheelagh to inform on him, she would've found it there, but that wasn't her intention. She was genuinely worried on Sheelagh's behalf – the last thing she needed on top of everything was a threat to her child. It was a miracle she hadn't had another health scare given everything that had happened in the past week. Keeping them both safe was Sam's priority.
However, after the discussion with Superintendent Okaro she'd experienced a bit of a wobble. It was discovering that there'd been what Sheelagh had called an 'incident' that had alerted the Super to her relationship with Des. Her jealousy had resurfaced with a vengeance and she'd had to distance herself, unable to ensure that she wouldn't betray what she was feeling. If Sheelagh had sought her out then she would've helped her in a heartbeat but she tried to exercise her caution by backing away. The trouble was, once the spurt of jealousy had subsided she just found she missed Sheelagh and that she needed to know she was okay. So she'd deliberately stayed late at work to see her, hesitating in the canteen before she approached her to control the butterflies in her stomach. She didn't appreciate feeling like a teenager again, though she'd be less critical of Abi the next time she did something so stupid as develop a crush on someone highly inappropriate. The way Sheelagh uncoiled on seeing her in the canteen, however, was reward enough for any discomfort Sam might have to endure. For now she'd just have to live with it and work out a plan of action afterwards.
Juggling her work with her desire to keep an eye on Sheelagh was proving tricky. It had been a week since the boxing match debacle with Gina and last night the victim had relapsed. When they joined Nick at the hospital she took out her frustrations on Phil – he'd got a commendation thanks to an investigation that Weaver helped him with at his old nick, if that wasn't a way in then what was? The only thing that came out of that was Phil reporting back that Weaver had an alibi for the assault. He wanted to drop it, said it was going nowhere, but that just made her more determined to bring Weaver to book. Anybody that Phil was so desperate not to investigate was ripe for the picking as far as she was concerned – all she had to do was remember the murky mess he'd got himself involved in with Ron Gregory.
The case took on a new flavour that evening when Madison, Dennis Weaver's three year-old daughter, was abducted from a multi-storey while out with her mother. No progress was made with the investigation overnight and Phil was uncharacteristically persistent, following her through the station the next morning with Rob licking at his heels.
'What about the search?' Phil demanded. 'The kidnap squad?'
'No leads yet, Phil, as far as I know,' she replied.
He growled. 'Look, we must be able to do something.'
Frowning, she said, 'Well, hang on a minute, yesterday when I wanted you to show some interest in the Weavers you didn't wanna know.'
'Yeah,' he argued, 'but a kid's been abducted, it changes everything.'
'Right,' she said slowly. Halting, she turned to him and tried to contain her smile. 'You've made my mind up for me. I want you to act as family liaison officer to the Weavers.'
'You what?' Phil said incredulously as Rob grinned beside him.
'You heard,' Sam returned.
He cringed. 'Guv, I'm hardly tea and sympathy material, am I?'
'He's not wrong there, Guv,' Rob pointed out.
'See?' Phil said. 'Can't you get Eva to do it?'
'Look,' she said. 'I know you've got the listening skills and empathy of a breeze block, Phil. But that's not what's needed here. Weaver's up to his neck in all sorts and some of his associates will have lost a lot of money when Joel Brewer decided not to throw that fight. So,' she continued, 'if we wanna find that little girl we need to know who Weaver's wound up. And how nasty they are. And as you're our expert in all things nasty...low...devious...'
'Yeah, thanks very much,' he muttered.
'You're welcome,' she replied instantly. Moving to the next set of doors, she glanced back and saw him still stationary. 'Shift your arse,' she told him.
As she walked through the doors she was aware of the buoyant feeling in her stomach, the sensation of getting one over on Phil Hunter too brilliant to keep to herself. So she diverted towards the Sergeants' Office, delighted to see Sheelagh at her desk.
'Knock, knock,' she said as she leaned against the door frame.
Sheelagh glanced up, a smile spreading over her face. The obvious happiness at seeing her made Sam grin all the more, warmth spreading through to her toes.
'I dread to think what you've done, with that look on your face,' Sheelagh commented, dropping her pen.
'Oi,' she said. 'I resent that.'
'Do you?' challenged Sheelagh. 'Come on, what have you been up to?'
After checking along the corridor, she said, 'I just assigned Phil as FLO to the Weavers.'
Sheelagh stifled her chuckle. 'You're a wicked woman, DI Nixon.'
'Oh, I know, Sheelagh,' she returned.
The laugh that raised followed her along the corridor and reverberated in her mind for the rest of the day, not that she did much to banish it. She appreciated the little illusion that she and Sheelagh had any relationship beyond friends and colleagues; right now she'd accept any illusion she could get to prolong the sense of contentment she got from a few seconds in Sheelagh's company.
The day, naturally, became more complex pretty quickly. Phil actually made the right call as FLO – surprising her more than anyone – by passing on a ransom demand straight on and telling a lie to get Dennis Weaver well away from the action. Thanks to that, they managed to arrest the kidnapper – Joel Brewer's distraught father – and retrieve three year-old Madison Weaver with not a scratch on her. Sam led the operation at the park and then, after having the kid checked out, returned her home with Phil and Nick.
As they walked into the house she had to hang back and take a call about a pretty nasty stabbing. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Phil hand Madison over to Christine, still trying to gauge his relationship with the Weavers, to no avail. Unfortunately, she didn't have time to decipher it now. Ending her call, she crossed to the little tableau.
'Right, I think we're done here.' She extended her hand. 'Mr Weaver. I look forward to seeing you again soon, under different circumstances.'
'Yeah, well, not if I can help it,' Weaver replied. 'Close the door on your way out.'
Sam looked to Phil. 'Right, we're off. There's been a stabbing. Young woman over on Taff Road.'
Without waiting for his response, she walked out of the open door onto Dennis Weaver's expansive driveway. When she reached the car, she turned around, expecting him to be behind her but he wasn't. It took him a few minutes to appear and there was a look on his face she didn't recognise. It disconcerted her a bit but she still didn't have time to work it out.
'Get a move on,' she told him. 'This is a nasty one, no time to wait while you're cosying up to your dodgy mates.'
Though he rolled his eyes, he didn't bother arguing with her. That was disconcerting as well.
When they arrived at the victim's house Phil stomped inside while Sam lingered to talk to SOCO by the door. Then she gestured Phil and Eva, who had beaten them to the scene, into the living room of the house. It was pretty evident that it wasn't clear cut – it was the wrong time of day for a stabbing like this and not much seemed to have been taken. There was no point of entry either, suggesting that the victim knew her attacker. Before they could delve into speculation about all of that, she got a call telling her the victim was awake. Much easier to ask her what had happened this afternoon than stand around hypothesising. Sending Phil and Eva down to the hospital to interview her, Sam returned to the station.
Upstairs in her office she was dealing with a few troublesome emails when there was a knock on the open door. She recognised it as Sheelagh's immediately and looked up with a smile on her face.
'Present from Inspector Gold,' Sheelagh said, dumping a hefty pile of files onto the desk.
'Ouch,' Sam commented. 'Was she scared to bring them up herself?'
'I volunteered,' answered Sheelagh. 'I heard you were back. And that you found little Madison earlier safe and sound.'
'Yeah,' she replied, leaning back. 'For something that was meant to be a mad throw of the dice, assigning Phil as FLO actually worked.'
'There you go, doubting your own abilities again.'
'Like that ever happens,' Sam returned with a grin. 'How you feeling?'
Sheelagh grimaced and patted her stomach. 'We're doing okay. I'll see you later.'
'See you,' Sam said softly as she watched her go then she shook herself and rose to collect an email from the printer outside the door. She'd barely crossed the threshold when Phil appeared in front of her.
'You must love Sheelagh Murphy,' he muttered darkly.
Sam almost flinched, fear slithering around her stomach. 'Excuse me?'
'Always sucking up, isn't she?' he questioned. 'Reckons you're a big-shot, backed the wrong horse as far as I'm concerned.'
As it sunk in that he was referring to a professional relationship – friendship at the most – Sam's expression hardened. 'Natalie Mercer,' she said, returning to her desk with him on her heels. 'Any likely suspects?'
'We've been looking at similar aggravated burglaries and Terry's been looking at PPU's books, see if they have anyone,' Phil answered.
'Right, try the National Crime Faculty for sex offenders as well,' she suggested as Eva ducked into the office behind him.
'Got something for you, Guv,' she said. 'Tony says that several of Natalie's neighbours have reported a lot of comings and goings from the flat.'
'So what are you thinking?' Sam asked. 'Drugs or prostitution?'
'Yeah, on the game,' Eva replied.
'She just could have been a popular girl,' Phil pointed out.
'No, I think Eva's right,' answered Sam. 'Talk to Natalie Mercer again but this time push a bit harder. We need to know if this attacker could've been a client of hers.' As they turned to leave, she added, 'Good call, Eva.'
It was nice to see a satisfied smile on her friend's face as she followed Phil out of the office. Sam received a couple of updates from the pair of them during the afternoon and they made an arrest. The boy lived across the road and watched the flats, compiling detailed notes on the comings and goings and Natalie Mercer's flat in particular. He was also found in possession of her watch. However, the stumbling block to certainty was that he was schizophrenic.
Mid-afternoon, Sam was checking in with another detective when Phil and Eva returned from interviewing the boy and she made a beeline for them.
'So, do we have enough to charge Aaron Jacobs?' she questioned.
'I don't think so, Guv,' Eva said.
'We've got plenty,' argued Phil.
Eva shook her head. 'No, the only real piece of evidence we've got is Natalie's watch.'
'We know he bothered her in the street and he had all that crazy stuff about her in his flat,' Phil retorted.
'But he has an illness,' Eva said. 'He passes the time of day watching the flats. These things do not prove that he stabbed the girl.'
'No,' Sam conceded. 'But if Aaron wasn't ill, you wouldn't be saying that. You'd just assume it was one huge coincidence.'
'Where's the mask?' Eva demanded. 'Where's the clothes that he wore to commit the attack? There must have been a lot of blood.'
Phil growled. 'He had a map marking the exact spot the key was kept!'
'Look,' Sam said after a moment, 'I'm gonna bail him for now and wait for forensics. That way we can actually place Aaron at the scene. Do you wanna do the honours, Phil?' she questioned.
With a scowl, he stomped out of CID and Sam shook her head before casting her eye to Eva.
'There's just something, Guv,' Eva muttered.
'It's not clear-cut,' Sam agreed, patting her on the arm. 'Hopefully forensics'll tell us one way or another. If it isn't him then the big question is what was he doing with that watch?'
Leaving Eva with that thought she went back into her office then cursed as she caught sight of the time. She was meant to be in a meeting with Ramani about CSU's caseload ten minutes ago. Grabbing the relevant folder from desk, she hurried to CSU and got through the catch-up in double-quick time. One thing she appreciated about working with Ramani was that she was straight to the point and intuitive about what needed doing. Although she was newly-promoted to DS Sam didn't doubt she wouldn't stay at that rank for too many years.
When she got back to her office this time she found a note on her desk. She took it straight out to the main office and glanced around.
'Where's Eva?' she asked.
Phil was just in the process of returning to his own desk. 'Dunno.'
'Well, Tony's had an interesting result on the door to door,' she said, halting between him and Rob.
'Oh, yeah?' Phil queried coolly.
'Yeah,' she went on, 'one of Natalie Mercer's neighbours, a night shift worker, saw an unfamiliar car parked in one of the residents' bays so he was gonna report it. That was really early this morning. Now, the driver was an IC3 and fits the description of the attacker.'
'As do a lot of people,' Phil remarked.
Sam reined in her immediate retort and instead said, 'Now, I know you're convinced that Aaron assaulted Natalie Mercer but we have to consider that this guy could be the attacker.'
'Okay,' he muttered, 'I'll follow it up.'
'Do we know the registered keeper?' Rob questioned.
She read out the name, highlighting that the guy didn't have a record but his address was in North London. Rob, dragging something useful out of his brain for once, recalled a couple of similar attacks to the one on Natalie Mercer which he'd come across in his searches earlier. The noticeable feature was that the assailant had worn a mask, just like Natalie Mercer's attacker.
'Keep looking into it, Rob,' she said then turned her attention to Phil, regarding him much as she would a puppy. 'Philip, come on.'
Thanks to his earlier remark about Sheelagh she wasn't inclined to be especially nice to him. They drove in silence to the suspect's address, only to find a post box full of unopened mail. With a little poking around they found one letter that offered them a lead – the guy had been enrolled at a college. She tasked Phil with following that up when they got back to the station, earning a muted response.
A little later she found him at the fax machine waiting on the information from the college. As soon as it came through he got that look on his face, the triumphant arrogance she detested. It turned out that the suspect had been in the station earlier under a different name – and that he was Aaron Jacobs's social worker.
With Eva still nowhere to be found, she accompanied Phil to see the suspect. Though he was perfectly calm when he let them in Sam could tell they had him on the ropes. He didn't have a satisfactory answer to why, when he'd been in the area at the time of the attack, he hadn't seen fit to include that in his statement earlier. He gave them the address of the client he'd allegedly been visiting near Natalie Mercer's flat and she decided to play along, acting as though everything he'd told them was perfectly acceptable.
As they moved to leave, though, Sam turned back. 'You've changed your name, Mr Fisher,' she said. 'Why would you do that?'
'I've got a lot of white clients,' he replied. 'I got fed up of spelling out my name.'
She smiled, wondering how thick he thought she was. 'Thanks for your time,' she said. 'We'll be in touch.'
As they left the house she could tell that Phil was deep in thought. Usually she wouldn't give his musings the time of day but she was uneasy too.
'What are you thinking?' she asked.
'Something's not right,' he answered as they walked back to the car. 'Look, Eva told me that she thinks that Aaron didn't carry it out the attack, that he just witnessed it.'
Sam pondered that. 'So Aaron knew it was Martin?'
Phil shook his head. 'No, the attacker was wearing a mask. But Martin could've got this information about Natalie from Aaron. That'd explain how he found out about the back door key.'
'Yeah,' she said slowly as her phone rang. It was Rob. She listened carefully then reported back to Phil, 'Right, the social work department has confirmed that Martin was working in the Free and Barnet area when the first two attacks took place. Both the victims were known to Social Services so he could've actually accessed them through his system.' Glancing at him, she realised he wasn't listening. 'Phil?!'
He banged his hands on the bonnet of the car they were next to. 'This is Eva's car,' he said as he started running back towards the house. 'Call her!'
More than a little perplexed, she tried but then saw Phil busting through the door back into Fisher's house and ran after him. By the time she arrived Phil had Fisher held fast and there was Eva slumped on the floor. Sliding down beside her, Sam cradled her head.
'Eva, are you all right?' she asked. When a nod came, she pressed, 'Are you sure?'
'I'm fine,' Eva said, her voice scratchy.
Sam wasn't too sure about that, nor was she was sure about how fine she was herself. They waited for the panda car to arrive, Sam leading Eva back to her car and being reluctantly convinced that she was fit to drive. If the situation was reversed, she'd insist on it as well. It was a statement more than anything else, driving purposefully off while Fisher was being escorted away in a marked vehicle. Sam let her get on with it, the same way that she waited for Eva to arrive in custody before she allowed Phil to book Fisher in.
As the three of them were walking towards the back staircase, Sam asked, 'Are you sure you don't wanna see the FME?'
'I'm fine,' Eva replied.
'It's lucky the knight in shining armour turned up to save her,' Phil crowed from a few steps behind.
Sam shot him a glance. 'None of this would've happened if you hadn't spent so long chasing the wrong man,' she pointed out.
He rolled his eyes and continued gloating all the way up the stairs until the DCI pulled him into his office for what sounded like a congratulatory word. Only when he'd departed did she realise they'd lost Eva but she assumed she'd gone to clean herself up in the bathroom – or maybe to check in with the FME after all. Certainly, when she arrived in CID a little later she seemed preoccupied.
Crossing to her desk, Sam asked, 'Are you really, okay?'
Eva chuckled. 'Guv, I'm okay, honestly. You sound like my mum, not my boss.'
Sam patted her on the arm and stepped back towards her office. 'That's my cue to shut up.'
Settled back at her desk, she couldn't help but grin to herself. She knew full well that she wouldn't have been so demonstrably worried about one of her team if it wasn't for Sheelagh's influence on her life. Of course, she cared about Eva's well-being and considered her a friend but the way she'd thrown herself into protecting Sheelagh in the last few weeks had obviously had an impact on the rest of her life. She'd even sounded like Sheelagh a little bit just then.
Given where her train of thought had led her, it was inevitable that she dropped by the Sergeants' Office before she left the station. She took a moment in the doorway to drink in the sight of Sheelagh with her hand pressed to her forehead, deep in concentration. It was entrancing, there was no other word for it.
'Hey,' she said finally.
Sheelagh looked up, shooting her that special smile that Sam had only ever seen directed at her. 'You off?'
Glancing along the corridor, she stepped into the office and closed the door. 'How are you holding up?'
'Not looking forward to a few days off,' Sheelagh replied. 'I'll go mad.'
'You need the rest,' Sam pointed out, sitting down opposite her. 'I expect you to look after yourself.'
'Or else what?' Sheelagh challenged.
She shrugged. 'I'll think of something.'
It seemed like Sheelagh was relaxing by the second. Closing the file on her desk, she said, 'I heard about the trouble Eva got herself into earlier.'
'This place doesn't miss a trick, does it?' Sam questioned. 'Well, she's okay physically but she's shaken up. Maybe it was my fault.'
Sheelagh frowned. 'How do you jump to that conclusion?'
'Phil's had one of those days,' she explained. 'Comes up smelling of roses whatever he does. I think Eva got caught in the crossfire a bit, tried to go the extra mile, being a bit too hard on herself. She certainly shouldn't have been round at Martin Fisher's on her own. Though she hasn't said it, I reckon Phil was pushing her buttons. He was convinced the schizophrenic kid was guilty, she wasn't getting much support for her theory that he wasn't.'
'I thought you bailed him,' said Sheelagh. 'That sounds like support to me.'
Sam faltered. 'Yes, but –'
'You talk about Eva being too hard on herself,' Sheelagh cut in. 'Don't you think you're the expert on that? You can't control everything, you know, as much as you'd like to.'
'Oh, I know that,' she said softly, wistfully maybe. The curious expression she caught in Sheelagh's blue eyes – her beautiful blue eyes – was far too interrogatory for comfort. Clearing her throat, Sam stood. 'Please rest while you're off, okay?'
'I will,' Sheelagh promised. 'Goodnight.'
'Night,' she murmured, dragging her gaze away with effort. Only when she was halfway down the corridor did she start breathing properly again, her mind replaying the confusion in Sheelagh's eyes as she'd fled.
It had almost slipped her mind that the next day was the dedication of Cass Rickman's memorial tree. Unlike the Sun Hill fire victims, Sam had a vested interest in attending. It wasn't only a case of Cass being a popular officer she wanted to show respect for but also because the serial killer investigation loomed large in both her memory and her career. She might've got Pat Kitson in the end but that really wasn't the point. As she walked out to the front of the station she began to feel regret in a way she hadn't really allowed herself to before. Perhaps that was Sheelagh's influence telling on her again.
She was startled when she joined the clump of officers outside the station and saw the back of Sheelagh's head a few yards in front of her. She'd rather assumed that having the day off meant that she wouldn't attend, though she should've guessed that Sheelagh would want to pay her respects too, despite never having met Cass. After all, she thought a lot of Nick Klein and she knew the history there. Turning up today was just the kind of thing Sheelagh would do.
Sam didn't approach her, however; recognising that the woman she was standing with was Lillian Rickman, Cass's mum. That was just like Sheelagh too – comforting the mother of a woman she'd never met and, judging from the expression on Mrs Rickman's face, doing it well. Once again, Sam was surprised by the depth of affection that bowled her over just by looking at Sheelagh's back. Though Terry came to stand beside her, she could barely focus on his words. Her gaze kept shifting over to Sheelagh, irresistibly so.
When Nick and Lillian stepped to the front of the group everyone fell silent, grouping together a little more professionally. Sam found herself behind Sheelagh, June half-between them. From what she knew, Sheelagh hadn't spotted her presence – she would've acknowledged her at the very least.
Nick cleared his throat, standing tall in front of them, though he struggled a little with his words. 'When Cass was killed I thought I'd lost her forever. But I hadn't,' he added. 'Because she left me with a true sense of what's important in life – friendship, loyalty and being able to do the right thing. And if I can do that I'll never lose her, she'll always be with me.'
Reaching over, he took Mrs Rickman's hand. She was evidently struggling but she seemed determined to do her daughter proud.
'I know Cass would've been made up with all of this,' she said after a moment. 'She loved working with you lot. And I know you thought a lot of her. And now there's a little piece of Sun Hill that is forever Cass.'
Sam's eyes had caught on Sheelagh again, watching her exchange a glance with June as Mrs Rickman finished her brief speech. She couldn't help the fresh spurt of jealousy in her stomach, as inappropriate as it was given the fact she was watching a bereaved mother dedicate a tree to her daughter. Perhaps it was her body's way of masking the very real sense of guilt that she knew should be plaguing her right about now.
They all watched Mrs Rickman plant the tree with Nick's help and applauded. As the group broke up, Sam turned to retreat into the station, intent on making it into her office without being dragged into conversation. However, before she made it through the main doors a hand rested on her shoulder and her breath hitched. She knew without looking exactly who the hand belonged to and she exhaled before she glanced backwards. Sure enough, it was Sheelagh smiling at her and, not trusting herself to speak, Sam simply gestured upstairs. Sheelagh nodded and followed her up the staircase, through CID and into her office. Only when the door was shut did Sam risk looking at her and she was surprised by how pregnant she looked without her uniform.
'I look like an elephant,' Sheelagh said.
Sam smiled as they both sat down. 'I didn't say that, you did.'
Though she mustered a small smile, Sheelagh was watching her with a concerned expression on her face. 'How are you doing?'
'That's my line,' she replied.
'Sam...' Sheelagh crossed her arms and studied her seriously. 'You don't need to pretend with me.'
Against anyone else, she would've held out. Then again, no one else noticed the smallest cracks in her composure like Sheelagh could. Sighing, she tilted her head up then admitted, 'Cass shouldn't have died. I should've figured it out. The connection was there, I should've found it.'
'It's not that simple,' answered Sheelagh, 'and you know it.'
'Right now it feels that simple,' she returned.
'You can't change the past,' Sheelagh said softly. 'But you can learn from it. The very fact we're having this conversation tells me you have. You wouldn't dwell on it, you wouldn't want to change it if you weren't a different person now.'
Sam's brow furrowed. 'How do you know I'm different?'
'Instinct,' Sheelagh replied with a shrug then she smiled. 'And I think the phrase Gina used was 'heart of ice'.'
Snorting, Sam massaged her neck. 'Guilty.'
'Before,' said Sheelagh firmly. 'Things change.'
'They certainly do,' she said. Biting her lip, she glanced up, 'Sheelagh, I think there's something –'
A knock on the door broke her off and brought a flush to her face. As Rob's head bobbed through the gap she let out her breath.
'Yes, Rob?' she asked, her voice quivering.
'Sorry to interrupt, Guv, but the DCI wants to see you soon as.'
'Thanks,' she answered. 'I'll be right there.'
Rob nodded and disappeared while Sheelagh stood up. Though she had a relatively impassive expression on her face, Sam could read the concern in her eyes.
'It was good of you to come in today,' Sam said.
Sheelagh waved that away as she stepped to the door. 'I'll see you in a few days. Take care.'
Sam watched her vanish around the corner then clamped her hands together and sat completely still for a few seconds.
She'd known it was likely to happen; she should've guarded herself against it. Opening up to Sheelagh in any way left her vulnerable to moments like that. Gazing into Sheelagh's kind eyes could easily dupe her into thinking that whatever she said would be welcomed. Not that she even knew what she'd been planning on saying. The words had slipped from her tongue before she had a chance to catch herself. If Rob hadn't walked in then God knows what she might've said.
How could she countenance putting any pressure on Sheelagh to reject her right now? What did she expect to happen? That Sheelagh would see the light and fall into her arms? That was fanciful, fantastical even. She'd already catalogued the reasons why that wouldn't happen numerous times, mostly when she was unable to sleep because her mind refused to stop working over every conversation she'd ever had with Sheelagh, every meaningless touch, every lengthy look. Holding on to those images would have to be enough because she sure as hell wasn't going to get anymore than that. If she wasn't careful she'd wreck their friendship and hurt Sheelagh in the process.
No, she needed to get a grip and try and guard the part of herself that physically hungered for Sheelagh night after night. How she could manage that was still up for debate. After all, she wasn't completely sure how Sheelagh had circumvented her natural defences in the first place so how could she resurrect them? It might be that knowing she had to simply wasn't enough.
It was nearly a week before Sam managed any further meaningful contact with Sheelagh. Yes, they passed in the corridor occasionally, but that just allowed time to say hello and check on each other's health. Sam examined Sheelagh's face rather than listened to her affirmative answers, though she'd concede that Sheelagh was coping very well if the determination in her eyes was anything to go by. Nothing had yet been heard of Des and Sam was fairly certain he'd taken the opportunity to run. Everybody was on high alert anyway, meaning Sheelagh and the baby were safe. Sam contented herself with that and told herself that the distance between them over the last week was good in the sense that it stopped her wanting to act on her feelings.
However, when she passed Sheelagh early one morning she was stopped by two things – firstly, the fact that she was no longer in full uniform thanks to the growing bump, instead in a plain white shirt and elasticated trousers, and, secondly, that she looked extremely troubled. Without much thought, Sam touched her elbow and indicated for them to move somewhere a little more private. A quick glance into the Sergeants' Office revealed Smithy hard at work so Sam steered her towards the bathrooms instead. There was a constable in there washing her hands but she rapidly disappeared and then Sam studied Sheelagh.
'What's happened?' she asked.
Sheelagh sighed and rubbed her eyes. 'Reg is back today.'
'Right,' Sam said slowly, trying to keep her poker face on.
'I should've gone to see him in hospital,' continued Sheelagh with a wince. 'I know I should've. I wanted to but I've been so focused on getting through one day at a time. I didn't want to think of the bigger picture, why Des did what he did.'
'That's understandable,' Sam said. 'You need to focus on staying healthy, for both you and the baby. There's no shame in wanting to forget what Des did. Trust me, I know.'
A smile flitted across Sheelagh's face then it was replaced by the same preoccupied look Sam had seen in the corridor. 'He thought I'd betrayed him,' she murmured. 'While I was with Patrick Des thought I was at the Yard with the Super telling them what he'd done. Something had come over the radio, I don't know what. But he thought I'd betrayed him. That's why he panicked and decided to try and kill himself.'
Sam absorbed that. The pain etched on Sheelagh's brow propelled her forward despite her misgivings, and she rested a hand on her arm. 'Don't even think about it,' she said. 'This is not your fault. You went against your better judgement to keep his secret, even for a day.'
'It wasn't my better judgement,' Sheelagh retorted. 'It was selfishness.'
'We could argue about that all day and we still wouldn't agree. The point is,' Sam continued, squeezing her hand, 'that you didn't betray him. And, even if he believes you did, that doesn't make you responsible for what he did to Reg. He left him for dead in there. And I know,' she went on quickly, 'how that makes you feel about your child but I really need you to accept that he has nothing to do with your baby beyond a tenuous genetic link. It's how you bring them up that matters, how you love them.'
Exhaling, Sheelagh whispered, 'I know you're right.'
'I know that doesn't help,' Sam returned. 'Not right now.'
'It helps more than you'd think,' answered Sheelagh, covering her hand and holding it tight.
The warmth spread through Sam. To ease her sudden discomfort, she questioned, 'How's Reg coping being back? Must be difficult, given everything that he –'
She broke off before she said something incriminatory about guessing Reg's knowledge of the station fire. That she'd read between the lines of Sheelagh's words the other week wasn't something they needed to discuss – as long as the knowledge remained unspoken then Sam could legitimately ignore it. However, Sheelagh obviously read it in her face. That fact made Sam nervous but she just cleared her throat and drew her hand away.
'He wants to quit,' Sheelagh said after a moment.
Sam inhaled deeply and shook her head. 'Talk him out of it if you can. The station's already lost too many good coppers thanks to Des. You know, people take the mickey out of him but he's an asset to this nick.'
'You're a softie really,' replied Sheelagh with a smile.
Before she could respond to that the door opened a crack: 'Guv, are you in there?'
Exchanging a perturbed glance with Sheelagh, she said, 'Rob, this is generally a private thing.'
'It's urgent,' he said. 'Please, Sam, I need your help.'
She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut briefly. 'When he starts using my first name I know it's bad. I'll see you.'
Sheelagh inclined her head. 'Good luck.'
Walking out of the bathroom, she fell into step with Rob. She expected him to head upstairs but he veered towards the video room. Once inside he explained the specifics of the case he'd been drafted over to CSU to aid with this morning.
It was a dodgy one from the off. Someone had discovered a camera hidden in the changing rooms of the leisure centre. The swimming instructor had initially been blamed by the parents and, after an investigation where Rob and Ramani discovered incriminating duct tape in his locker, he was arrested for it. The suspect had admitted owning the camera but claimed it was stolen and some tapes had been recovered from his locker, though nothing to do with the changing rooms. All this Rob explained in a bit of a garbled manner, leaving Sam at a loss as to why he was dragging her into the case.
'I promised Ramani I could deal with this sensitively,' Rob muttered as he closed the door. When Sam snorted, he continued, 'Yes, I know, all right? But I'm out of my depth here, Sam! I don't know what to do.'
She'd known him long enough to realise quite how serious this was. 'Tell me,' she said simply.
'Simon knows Jasmine,' he explained. 'That's Ramani's step-daughter. He's her swimming instructor. Ramani knows him.'
'Okay...' Sam said slowly. 'That's unfortunate but –'
'Jasmine's on his tapes,' Rob cut in. 'Nothing explicit but it's in a private setting and it's – it's pretty personal stuff.'
'I think you better show me,' she said.
Nodding, he turned on the tape. As Rob said, the video was nothing physically inappropriate but it certainly wasn't appropriate in any other sense. Simon was audible off-camera asking questions. As the pair of them were focused on the footage the door abruptly opened and Sam glanced over.
'Ramani...' she murmured.
On instinct she grappled for the remote at the same time as Rob but Ramani got to it first and held it out of their reach, her eyes fixed on the screen.
'I'm sorry,' Rob said. 'It's your girl.'
It was obvious Ramani wasn't going to move until she'd seen everything. Rob looked as uncomfortable as Sam felt, though with him it might have been more about awkwardness than empathy. Given all that had happened with Abigail and Matt Boyden, Sam knew something of what Ramani was feeling and, in this situation, she'd insist on watching the tape too. She wouldn't criticise Ramani for that so she waited until the tape switched to another girl before she cleared her throat.
'Why don't we take this upstairs to my office?' she suggested.
As they climbed the stairs Sam cast a glance over to Ramani, noting that she was making a concerted effort to separate the personal and professional. Deciding to leave it for now, Sam closed the door behind them and moved to sit down behind her desk.
'What did the search of his house turn up?' she questioned.
'We didn't find any more tapes,' Ramani answered. 'But we did find loads of swimming costumes in a drawer under the bed.'
Sam nodded. 'So how are we doing with the tape from the showers?'
'Still being dried out,' Rob said. 'It'll be ready end of play.'
'Okay,' Sam murmured. 'Well, let's get him interviewed, see how he explains away the costumes. Unfortunately, the home movies aren't illegal. So...we could be bailing him.' She saw the dismay in Ramani's face and continued, 'Rob, do you want to set the interview up now?'
For once his sensitivity barometer was working and he exited with a quick, 'Guv.'
'He could be grooming these girls, you know,' Ramani pointed out. 'Voyeurism can be the first step on the sex crime ladder.'
'I know that, Ramani. But we haven't got the evidence.' When Ramani tugged open the door, she asked, 'Look, erm, do you wanna stand down from this case?'
'No, Guv,' Ramani said very softly.
Watching her close the door, Sam couldn't help but be concerned. However, she both understood Ramani's need to be involved in this and trusted her on a professional level. She'd have to keep an eye on the situation, of course, but she wasn't going to be draconian about it.
Following the interview, Ramani and Rob came back up to see her. Unusually for her, Ramani took no active part in reporting the pretty useless interview and instead crossed to the window.
Eventually, Rob concluded, 'He's been bailed – for now.'
'Well, keep digging around. I mean, this is a murky one.' Sam stood and rounded the desk. 'Did he identify any of those other girls on the videos?'
'He gave us some names,' Rob replied. 'He reckons they're all over sixteen. And we're gonna contact and confirm that and hopefully hear what happens after the camera stops rolling.'
Glancing to Ramani, she questioned, 'Have you spoken to Jasmine?'
She turned around and shook her head. 'No, no, erm... I'd like to do it face to face and not here so I've arranged to meet her at five at home.'
'Okay,' Sam said, returning to her chair. 'I wanna know how this guy operates. This could be the tip of the iceberg.'
'Or a guy who just likes dirty movies,' Rob retorted.
It was almost a relief to see that his sensitivity barometer was back to normal, though Ramani's grimace showed that his quip had hit a raw nerve. Sam dismissed them with a nod, exchanging a pointed – and, she hoped – sympathetic look with Ramani then settled back down to concentrate on her reports.
Later in the afternoon she was called downstairs by Rob to watch the video tape that had been in the camera when it was discovered and had been carefully dried out by the lab.
'So, what we got?' she asked.
'These are the changing room tapes, Guv,' Rob explained.
'Yeah,' she said then held up a hand before he started the tape and looked to Ramani. 'Are you sure you're up to this?'
'Absolutely fine,' Ramani answered. 'After this we go back to mine and interview Jasmine.'
'Okay, here we go,' said Rob, starting the tape.
Though Sam was still apprehensive about Ramani's presence, she knew if the roles were reversed she'd be as stubborn. As the tape ran on she kept shooting glances to Ramani but at least the only thing the tape contained was unequivocal evidence that Simon had planted the camera. He'd filmed himself doing it.
'Fool,' Sam said scornfully.
'Told you it was an amateur job,' Rob commented.
'I'll see you outside,' Ramani said abruptly.
As she fled, Sam exchanged a glance with Rob. This case had been good for him in some respects, however bad it had been for Ramani – it had shown them all that he could work for the good of his colleagues and do it appropriately. Given her experiences with him in the past, she was quietly impressed.
'We got him,' Rob said.
Sam just smiled grimly then turned and left the room.
It was inevitable, again, that her route upstairs would involve her checking on Sheelagh. She found her in her office, staring into space looking battered once more. Instantly, she stepped inside and closed the door. Looking up with a jolt, Sheelagh saw her and attempted a smile.
'Have you spoken to Reg?' Sam questioned as she sat down.
Sheelagh nodded. 'He's been reminded that he's not Des's sidekick, he's okay.'
'That's good to hear,' Sam said then surveyed her shrewdly. 'So why aren't you happy about it?'
'Reg said he can move on,' Sheelagh murmured. 'He said we can both move on.'
Sighing, Sam stretched a hand over to her arm. 'Give it a little while. You've gotta take it one step at a time.' Though the words pained her, she asked, 'Have you heard from Patrick?'
'He's found a flat,' answered Sheelagh. 'The boys are adamant they're going to stay with him, at least for the time being.'
'I'm sorry,' Sam said. 'They'll come round, I'm sure. What about Siobhan?'
'Well, she was only half at home anyway,' Sheelagh replied with a limp shrug. 'I think she'll take the chance to escape once and for all. She's staying with a cousin this week.'
'A bit of time and space might be good for them, good for all of you,' Sam returned. 'I know it's easier said than done but concentrate on keeping yourself healthy.'
'And then what?' Sheelagh queried softly. 'I'm stuck in an empty house with a baby trying to hold down a full-time job? I don't know how to do this, Sam.'
Sam massaged circles into her arm. 'Like I said, one step at a time. Besides,' she added, 'you're not doing anything alone. I know of a few reputable nannies, fully-registered. We can talk to them together if you'd like. At least it's somewhere to start.'
If she wasn't completely mistaken, the panic on Sheelagh's face eased just a bit. Sam met her eye and smiled before reluctantly releasing her arm.
'I'd better go,' she said, rising. 'I'm off the next couple of days and Abi might appreciate it if I didn't have my head buried in paperwork the entire time. Then again,' she went on with a wry smile, 'maybe not. You call me if you need me.'
'I will,' Sheelagh promised and Sam searched her face to ascertain she meant it.
Stepping to the door, she glanced back. 'Look after yourself.'
The way she'd made the pressure on Sheelagh's brow disappear was recompense for any slight pain her feelings were causing her right now. It was worth feeling so unsettled, feeling so drawn to Sheelagh, if she could help her through this. At least, that's what she had to keep telling herself to keep her emotions in check. If the only thing she could do was keep delaying the moment when she had to think seriously about what all this meant for her life then she'd gladly keep doing it.
A few days at home physically recharged her and she got a couple of texts from Sheelagh letting her know that she was okay. Abi commented on the fact that she didn't seem too bothered about being away from work and it was true – she missed Sun Hill, yes, but it was more about missing Sheelagh than her job. She knew that was a remarkable shift in her mentality and that scared her but, true to her decision of the week before, she put off thinking about what it signified and what it might mean.
She couldn't help thinking about Sheelagh, even as she was doing something as mundane as cleaning the oven. It became a habit, mixed in with her musings on some of the cases she'd left behind and that little voice at the back of her head wondering whether she'd done enough to get the permanent DI post. All that came second to Sheelagh though. She didn't want to fathom what would happen once Sheelagh wasn't relying on her support so much and, God forbid, if she didn't get the DI's role. What would her life look like at that point? That was something else she tried not to think about very much.
When she got back to work she was disappointed to find that Sheelagh had the day off. However, that did mean she focused completely on her caseload at least and she found she accomplished quite a bit.
As she was leaving the station that day Gina tapped on the window of her office and beckoned her in for a drink. Grateful, she closed the door behind her and sat down, eagerly taking the glass Gina pressed into her hand.
'You look like you've had a day of it,' Sam commented.
'If I told you, you wouldn't believe it,' Gina replied. 'And, as it happens, I can't.'
'Shame,' Sam said, though she didn't find she was as intrigued as she usually would've been. She had more than enough to ruminate on as it was. However, she wasn't completely immune so she asked, 'Was it something to do with Jim Carver's domestic situation?'
'Indirectly,' Gina said. 'That was a mess and a half, wasn't it?'
'Is he okay?' Sam questioned. 'Can't have been easy, admitting all that.'
Conceding that with a shrug, Gina muttered, 'I'm not one for touchy-feely politically-correct codswallop but I do believe in looking after your own. What bothers me is that no one spotted she was knocking seven bells out of him and he didn't feel like he could talk to any of us. It reeks, Samantha, not what the job's supposed to be about.'
She smiled softly. 'We're meant to look after each other.'
'Some of us are making a full-time occupation of that these days,' Gina said, watching her over the rim of her glass.
Sam shifted in her seat and sipped her whisky. 'If you mean Sheelagh –'
'How's she bearing up?' interrupted Gina. Inwardly, Sam gave her full marks for tipping an interviewee off-balance then tried to clear the discomfort from her face.
'She's getting there,' Sam said carefully. 'You know she's resilient. Any news on Des?'
Gina shook her head. 'If he's a got a lick of sense he'll be long gone.'
'If that means he's out of her life...' Trailing off, Sam sighed and tilted her glass around. 'Of course I want him caught. He deserves to pay for what he did. But I look at her now and wonder how much more she can take.'
'Well, with you fighting her corner she should be all right,' Gina said. 'You haven't forgotten, I assume, that the decision on the permanent DI is due any day now.'
'Funnily enough, I hadn't,' she replied, almost physically feeling them slip onto solid ground. 'I don't suppose you've got some insider knowledge, have you?'
Chuckling, Gina answered, 'Afraid not. If it's any comfort, I can't stomach the idea of having to get used to someone else up in that office.'
'It is,' she said, raising her glass, 'thank you.'
