If Sam needed an indication of how badly she had fallen for Sheelagh she'd found it thanks to the promotion debacle.
Oh, sure, hearing from Jack that she'd missed out on the job had felt like a knife to the stomach. She'd struggled to comprehend it, not least because of the rumour circulating the station that she'd got it. Of course, she worked out pretty quickly that Phil had spread the rumour, just to see her fall that little bit harder. However, hearing that he'd tried manipulating Sheelagh's response to the news had disconcerted her. While she didn't think he was intelligent enough to come to the right conclusion, he'd certainly detected her friendship with Sheelagh and was set on disrupting it. That may have been pushed to the back of his mind now that his affair with Christine Weaver was out in the open and his kneecaps were probably in danger but Sam didn't appreciate the peril lingering beneath the surface. He might not know how she really felt but he knew her friendship with Sheelagh was important to her and he'd sabotage it if he could. With Phil there was always a chance he might strike upon the truth, or at least sow the seeds in someone else's mind, Sheelagh's perhaps. That idea terrified Sam but she couldn't cocoon herself as she'd like to – her defences had been stripped away and she couldn't imagine her life without Sheelagh in it.
That had struck her most acutely on the evening she found out she'd missed out on promotion. She'd locked herself away, unable to bring herself to leave the station but simultaneously despising the little office she would soon have to hand over to someone new. Half in darkness, she'd been replaying every professional decision she'd made in her time as ADI when Sheelagh knocked and entered without permission. She was the only person who would've done that, of course, but still Sam couldn't bring herself to talk to her. But, then, Sheelagh knew that and she'd pleaded with her not to push her away again. That had struck home, reminding her of the mess with Glenn and how she wished in hindsight that she'd trusted in Sheelagh's friendship back then. So, despite how difficult it was, she'd opened up to her then, accepted Sheelagh's sympathy when she would've avoided anyone else's and made a conscious effort to listen to her arguments.
There was one word in that conversation that came back to her time and again – 'darling'. It was an innocent endearment, something Sheelagh probably would've said to anyone under the circumstances, but her mind – and body – had latched straight onto it. All the promotion misery had slipped away in that instant to be replaced by a deeper ache about something else she wasn't destined to have. A few minutes later that feeling was briefly alleviated, bizarrely enough, when she'd seen a strange expression on Sheelagh's face and it had turned out the baby was kicking. Sam couldn't repress her urge to share the moment and the pressure of the baby's foot against her palm had fooled her that they were a couple, some sort of family. That was a crazy idea but the moment of illusion had been beautiful.
Of course, it had been replaced by an even heavier ache once she returned to reality and Sheelagh suggested she leave Sun Hill. Firmly, she'd rebuffed that, though under any other set of circumstances she would agree it was the best course of action. As it was, she couldn't countenance the thought of leaving. It wasn't just that she vainly believed Sheelagh needed her; no, it was more that she couldn't comprehend not being part of Sheelagh's life, not seeing this baby born. Even if she couldn't have what she desperately wanted, she knew she couldn't disengage herself, not now.
She had to be careful though. Whenever her defences weakened she lost her filter and nearly said too much. It had happened that night and she'd almost added falling for someone entirely inappropriate to the list of things that had knocked her for six in her life. She'd stopped herself just in time, though Sheelagh's curiosity had probably been piqued once more. Not that forcing herself to stop speaking prevented her succumbing to the urge to hug Sheelagh before she left and resting her chin on her shoulder, inhaling her scent, while trying to battle the sudden tears from her eyes. When she'd pulled away Sheelagh had rested the back of her hand against her cheek and Sam had nearly faltered again. It cost her a lot to be strong and step away in that moment but she set her jaw and did it. After all, what else could she do?
Something that had startled her, actually, was Sheelagh's willingness to accept her antipathy towards Phil. Hearing that he'd fathered a child with Christine Weaver had proved too irresistible to ignore but Sheelagh's attitude wasn't that she was taking pleasure in Phil's marital mistake – as someone in her own position might well think – but more that she needed to be careful about taking him on. Though Sam appreciated the concern, she wasn't completely reformed and she couldn't let it go. One good outcome of her missing out on the DI job was that she no longer had to tiptoe around Phil. She loathed him and she couldn't keep a lid on it anymore. The only reservation she had was his meddlesome attitude towards her friendship with Sheelagh but, as she'd learned from watching Nick Klein's dealings with him as well as her own experiences, it was better to go on the offensive around Phil Hunter, otherwise you just never saw the blow coming.
The new DI would be arriving after Christmas. That at least gave Sam time to prepare, though she did feel herself becoming strangely detached from reality as Christmas edged closer. She still didn't know how she was going to cope as DS but she'd resolved not to think about it until she absolutely had to. In the meantime, she busied herself with tidying things up as much as she could and, of course, checking on Sheelagh at least once a day. Those little moments were the highlights of what was a difficult time for her at the station.
Her feelings towards Superintendent Okaro weren't charitable right now anyway but he'd certainly made enemies amongst many of her colleagues in the last few weeks. Following an incident with Tony he was apparently going back to basics, which translated as going out in the area car with PC Stamp himself. It struck Sam firmly as a PR stunt and she hoped a day working with Tony would prove just how out of touch he was with the job.
She was on her way back from an interview in custody when she, quite naturally, made a beeline for the Sergeants' Office. Sheelagh was talking to herself, mumbling her way through some report or other in a way that was nothing short of adorable.
'Did you want something?' Sheelagh asked suddenly, startling her. She hadn't realised she'd been spotted.
'Not really,' she answered as she rested her shoulder against the door frame. 'How are you feeling?'
'I'm okay,' said Sheelagh. 'I could do without the periodic kicks to the kidney,' she added pointedly towards her stomach and Sam chuckled. 'But other than that...'
'Have you eaten?' Sam queried.
Sheelagh rolled her eyes. 'Yes.'
'Good,' she said with a smile. After checking along the corridor, she continued, 'What's your take on the Super?'
'PR stunt?' Sheelagh offered. When Sam let out a soft laugh she questioned, 'What's so funny?'
'Great minds,' replied Sam then she tilted her head to the side. 'Are you okay?'
'Don't I look it?' retorted Sheelagh.
'No, you look...' She trailed off as she realised that this was another instance of her talking without engaging her brain first. 'You look tried,' she concluded truthfully.
The way Sheelagh was watching her was interrogatory to say the least. Even so, Sam couldn't peel herself away. It was almost as though she wanted Sheelagh to ask the question, she wanted this all out in the open. Then she remembered how selfish that was – and how that conversation was likely to go – and stepped back into the corridor. Sheelagh opened her mouth –
'Ah, Samantha,' Superintendent Okaro suddenly said, surprising them both. 'Can I have a word?'
'Of course, Sir,' she said courteously. With one final smile at Sheelagh, she tugged the office door closed and felt an undeniable rush of relief. Then she turned her attention to the Super. 'How can I help?'
'I've been dealing with the robbery that precipitated the crash that sent two teenagers to the hospital,' he explained.
'I'm aware of it,' Sam said.
The Super nodded eagerly. 'I talked to the man who was robbed – the shop manager? He's physically okay, he'll make a good witness and there was a CCTV camera in the alleyway where he was attacked so I'll take a look at the tape.'
As Gina arrived beside them Sam shot her a look that her friend couldn't fail to interpret. 'Oh, right,' she said with another involuntarily glance towards Gina.
'Here's the number so you can arrange it,' the Super added, passing her a piece of paper.
'Thank you, Sir,' she said, bristling at this entire conversation. Her attitude towards the Super five minutes ago had been indulgent but now she was just miffed that he was muscling in on her territory, especially when he was confiscating it from her entirely in a few weeks. She threw one more glare at Gina then stalked off towards the staircase.
It irked her that, after ascertaining what needed to be done in the case, he was expecting her to do it for him. However, she duly sent an officer down for the tape and alerted the Super and Tony when it was delivered to her. While she was waiting she watched it a few times and at least felt a little smug that she had something of value to show an officer who obviously thought so little of her detective abilities.
When they arrived she started the tape without preamble. 'Right,' she said, 'this is the security video from the camera in the alley at the robbery scene. Now, this guy here,' she went on, freezing the tape and pointing, 'he's a possibility but we'll come back to him in a second. Look at this...' She hit play. 'Okay... These two guys in the foreground ...' Again, she paused it, managing to get a decent angle. 'Are they the two men you found in the crashed car?'
'The car's the same, wearing the same clothes,' Tony said. 'Have we not been able to ID them yet?'
'No, unfortunately fingerprinting's gonna take a while,' she answered. 'But I'm gonna show it around the station and see if anyone's nicked them before. People very rarely commit robbery as a first crime so with a bit of luck someone'll recognise them.'
'This third guy's here a possible spotter,' the Super said.
'Mmm, exactly,' she said, glancing to Tony with interest. 'You look like you recognise him.'
'Can you rewind the tape?' he asked.
'Mmm,' she murmured as she did so.
Tony let out a triumphant huff. 'There, look, he's acknowledging the other two.'
'Yes, he is,' Sam replied, unable to keep the satisfaction from her voice.
'Can we go in closer on him?' the Super queried.
'Yeah.' She zoomed in then looked between them. 'You know him?'
'I think that's Paul Elms,' Tony said.
Sam snorted. 'So the lad leaves his library book in the back of the car and claims he had nothing to do with the whole thing but he's stood there spotting for them.'
'Couldn't make it up, could you?' retorted Tony. 'Trouble is, Guv, his mother already wants to make a complaint against us for being racist and assuming the lad's guilt.'
'Gina's dealing with that,' the Super put in. 'She said she had an ace up her sleeve. Come on, Tony.'
Though Sam pondered the 'ace' briefly as the pair of them departed, she didn't much care about the finer points of this investigation. If Okaro wasn't going to let them deal with it as it should be dealt with – that is, led by CID and not him – then he was welcome to bluster through it as far as she was concerned. This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him seem more in tune with the relief. Well, it wasn't going to wash with her and, she doubted, anyone with half a brain around here. So she threw herself into her outstanding files and waited for uniform to do the legwork on the robbery case. She was checking the tower of files on Ken's desk for a report when Gina arrived.
'The Super and Tony are on their way up,' she explained.
'Have you found something?' Sam questioned. 'Did you speak to the boy's mum?'
Shrugging, Gina replied, 'We went down there earlier. Sheelagh's softened the mother up a bit.'
'Sheelagh?' she repeated sharply. 'You took a heavily-pregnant officer out on a job?'
'Keep your hair on,' said Gina with a grimace. 'She had a cuppa and a chat with a nice woman while I was sat right there.'
'She still shouldn't have been out of the nick,' Sam pointed out.
Gina's brow furrowed and she crossed her arms. 'Oi, she was raring to get out of this place, didn't mind me playing the pregnant woman sympathy card as she put it. If she's all right with it, why are you kicking off?'
'Well, someone has to look after your officers if you won't,' retorted Sam.
'Oi!' Gina snapped.
Instinctively, she knew she'd crossed a line from the look on her friend's face and she regretted what she knew to be a blatant lie. If Gina had taken Sheelagh out on a job then it was hardly against her will. She knew how claustrophobic Sheelagh was finding the nick at the moment but, even so, Sam's protectiveness had kicked back in with a vengeance. She couldn't help being concerned.
A frosty silence ensued until Superintendent Okaro and Tony arrived a minute later. Sam tucked her arms behind her back and listened carefully.
'So,' began Gina, shooting her a look, 'me and Sheelagh were having a friendly chat with Mrs Elms when son turned up.'
Sam's frown increased – of course Gina had neglected to mention that the suspect had actually arrived while Sheelagh was talking to the mother.
'Oh?' the Super said.
'Mmm,' Gina replied, 'Paul Elms was very cool, calm and collected – and stank of guilty.'
Okaro nodded. 'Makes sense, he's the clever one, he plans it.'
'The only mistake he made was to leave his bag in the car with the two dumbos,' added Tony.
'What's the word from the hospital?' asked the Super after a moment.
'Surviving robber's still unconscious but no one's yet turned up to claim either of them,' Tony answered.
'So what do you wanna do?' Sam questioned. 'Lift Paul?'
Okaro glanced sideways with a show of deference that irritated Sam immensely. 'Tony?'
'Well, to me it's straightforward,' Tony said. 'Suspicion of attempted robbery – arrest him.'
'All we know is that he was there on the street,' the Super pointed out.
Sam crunched down on her lip to try and prevent her irritation spilling out. Why make a show of asking Tony what he'd do under the circumstances then play devil's advocate by arguing with him? Not to mention the fact that neither of them should still be involved in this case – neither the constable nor the senior officer playing at being one for the day. For what it was worth, Sam agreed with Tony. They might not have solid evidence yet but they certainly had grounds to pull the kid in.
'They acknowledged him,' Tony argued. 'They had his phone and bag in the car with them. And someone was the spotter – him.'
'Well, we're fingerprinting the car so we might get DNA evidence he was in it,' Sam said.
'We put the mother through the wringer so we need to be very sure of our case before we lay a hand on Paul Elms,' the Super added.
Tony hesitated a moment then said, 'When she looked at that boy's body in the mortuary I thought she knew him.'
The Super frowned. 'You never mentioned it to her.'
'It was a difficult situation,' Tony answered. 'I didn't wanna make it worse.'
'Look,' Gina said, 'the mother liked Sheelagh, there's no reason why she can't have a maternal natter.'
Whether that was designed to irritate her or not, it succeeded and she shot Gina a glare. However, with the Super standing there, she didn't have much of a chance of winning this argument. If Gina thought it was okay, so did he and so did Sheelagh. The latter was a problem for later, though Sam suspected that all it would take was Sheelagh throwing her that little smile and she'd forget all about her concerns.
'Okay,' the Super said to Gina and she made for the door. Turning to Sam, he continued, 'Talk to the man who was robbed again.'
Bristling, she crossed her arms and followed him to the door. 'Sir,' she said. 'Robbery is usually CID. CID alone,' she added with emphasis.
'And the mother's threatened to complain, Samantha,' he retorted. 'I don't want us sleepwalking into some Stephen Lawrence type thing.'
'Stephen Lawrence wasn't a criminal,' Sam pointed out.
'But he was a black A grade student who the Met didn't deal with very well,' Okaro replied. 'I don't want us making the same mistake with Paul Elms. And if Paul Elms does turn out to be a criminal, his mother isn't, so excuse me if I tread on your toes ever such a little bit.'
She'd thought she couldn't be more annoyed with him than she was but that was apparently an underestimation of her capabilities. Watching him go, she felt an undeniable surge of anger at this man who had so casually smashed her hopes of promotion to smithereens and was now having a good crack at taking over her department in the interim before her successor arrived. It was intolerable. Though, she conceded as Tony patted her shoulder on his way out of CID, she was as irritated by Gina's treatment of Sheelagh today as by Okaro's efforts to be part of the team.
A few minutes later she was crossing the landing to CSU when she was accosted by Nick Klein.
'Ma'am,' he said. 'I've got a lorry driver downstairs who reckons his lorry full of geese has been hijacked.'
She spun around to face him, intrigued. 'By who?'
Briefly, he explained that it looked to be an opportunist robbery from a driver who was a bit lost and had left his vehicle for a few moments. However, there was £100k of stolen geese in that truck and, with Christmas only a few days away, it could prove to be a lucrative venture for the lucky thief.
'Do you wanna stick with this?' she asked when he'd finished.
'Yeah, of course,' he replied.
'Good. Beyond his shoulder she caught sight of the perfect assistance for him. 'Phil,' she called, 'don't rush off. Right,' she continued in a softer voice to Nick, 'get your civvies on, you can work with Phil. I'll clear it with the uniform inspector. And are the relief aware of the description of the lorry and its load?'
'Yes, Ma'am,' he murmured.
'Good,' she repeated then, as Phil arrived, added, 'Nick'll brief you.'
Turning towards CID, she couldn't help but be a little pleased with herself. She was perfectly aware of what had gone on with these two recently and why they were at loggerheads but she was of the opinion that Nick could handle the situation and Phil deserved to squirm. If she could spend the rest of her life watching Phil Hunter squirm it wouldn't be long enough.
'Yeah, well, I'm busy,' Phil said, stalking after her.
'Well, make time,' she returned.
'He's a problem too,' Phil tried.
'What sort of problem?' she queried.
'I've got issues with him,' he snapped, sounding more like a petulant schoolboy than ever.
'What sort of issues?' she asked.
He growled. 'They're personal issues!'
'Resolve them,' she returned.
'I don't want to be in command of Nick Klein,' he said firmly.
Barely withholding her snort of derision, she turned back towards CID, shouting over her shoulder, 'Just do it!'
After checking in with CSU she went to talk to the robbery victim from the morning. He recognised Paul Elms as a lad who used to work for him and couldn't believe he was involved in the robbery. Everyone seemed to think this kid was an angel but Sam was far from convinced. The victim might believe it was a coincidence that he was in the alley at the time of the robbery but Sam didn't believe in coincidences, not in a case like this. She'd also much prefer it if she wasn't having to tiptoe around courtesy of Superintendent Okaro.
She was halfway back to her office when she got a call from Phil. They'd found the abandoned lorry, empty of geese but with an interesting docket that suggested the meat was out of date and was unfit for public consumption. That, of course, added an extra dimension to the case and she tasked him and Nick to track the geese down as soon as possible. That much contaminated meat on the patch could cause a public health nightmare come Boxing Day.
Catching up with the Super and Tony, she filled them in on the evidence stacking up against Paul Elms and expressed her conviction that they should pick him up as soon as possible. Okaro's attitude was still that they needed to be gentle for the sake of the mother and Sam's irritation was piqued once more. There might be an allegation of racism floating around the ether but the boy was a viable suspect and she wanted to nail him. Without further preamble, she had them arrest him and bring him in for questioning.
As it turned out, he was one of the more arrogant and pig-headed interviewees she'd ever dealt with. He seemed to think his status as an A-grade student permitted him to do what the hell he liked and get away with it. She delighted in wiping the smirk off his face, stacking up the evidence piece by piece and watching him crumble. In her mind, she was demolishing every one of the Super's arguments for holding back on this arrest and putting the lad away was equivalent to wiping the superior smirk off Okaro's face. It may only have been a fantasy but she came out of the interview feeling much better.
After depositing him in custody she was on her way back upstairs when Gina blocked her path. She looked harried, worse than Sam had ever seen her. Before she could question her about it, Gina grabbed her arm and dragged her through the nearest doorway which happened to be the briefing room.
'Hey, careful,' Sam muttered, wrenching her arm free.
'Don't you answer your phone?' Gina demanded.
She frowned. 'I've been in interview most of the afternoon. Why, what's wrong?' An icy thought suddenly struck her. 'Is it Sheelagh? Is she okay?'
'Look, if I'd wanted to be a midwife, I'd have – I never wanted to be a midwife,' concluded Gina with an impatient huff.
'Midwife?' Sam repeated. 'But she's not... It isn't...' She was struggling to get her head around this then abruptly everything crystallised and her chin snapped up. 'Gina, tell me she's okay.'
Gina held up a hand, a wisp of a smile on her face. 'They're both fine. I think I'm the traumatised one – stuck in a shed with a load of dead geese while Sheelagh tried to split my eardrums open.'
'Geese?' said Sam then shook her head. 'Talk to Phil about that. Are you sure they're okay?'
'The baby's on the small side but she's breathing on her own –'
'She?' Sam cut in, unable to keep the delight from her voice. 'It's a girl?'
'It's a girl,' Gina confirmed. 'I'm not much of a judge but she looks perfect to me.'
Sam swallowed, trying to contain the emotions raging inside of her. On the one hand, she wanted to rush to the hospital, feeling almost like part of the family. The swell of love in her chest had expanded suddenly to include a baby she hadn't even seen yet. All she really knew was that she wanted desperately to be with Sheelagh right now. However, on the other hand, her pragmatic side was trying to keep her grounded. She was nothing to this baby girl and, as far as she knew, Sheelagh wasn't exactly yearning for her presence.
'You know,' Gina went on suddenly, 'childbirth must do funny things to women. Can't think of any other reason why she'd have been asking for you the whole time.'
Blinking, Sam pressed her lips together and tried to hide her acute relief. 'Why didn't you call it in to CAD? Someone could've pulled me out of interview.'
Gina shrugged. 'If it was up to me I would have, just for a bit of peace and quiet. As it was, Sheelagh didn't want to embarrass you.'
'You what?' Sam asked with a snort.
'I told you, she's barking mad. Anyway,' Gina continued, 'I'd get down there if I were you.'
'I will, I just...'
Trailing off, she realised she was in no fit state to drive. Her mind was ricocheting about all over the place. This was one of those moments she was meant to be shielding herself from – being near Sheelagh as she recovered from giving birth and when she was arguably at her most vulnerable. If Sam had any sense she'd stay away from the hospital, send a card and a present, back right off. But, of course, she wasn't going to do that. Sheelagh's pull was far too strong, not to mention the fact that her thirst to see this baby was growing by the second. She just needed a minute to pull herself together, gather up some of that famous Samantha Nixon steel that seemed to amuse Sheelagh so much sometimes.
Without her noticing, Gina had moved to the door and collared Tony. 'Are you busy?' she asked.
He stepped into the briefing room. 'No, Ma'am.'
'Good,' Gina said, patting him on the shoulder. 'Can you run DI Nixon down to the hospital for me? Sergeant Murphy's given birth to a healthy little girl and she wants to pay them a visit.'
Usually Sam would be uneasy about another officer being involved in any way with her friendship with Sheelagh, but it was Tony and he'd already demonstrated his knowledge in the past, bringing concerns about Sheelagh's health prior to the pregnancy reveal. If there was anybody she didn't mind taking her to the hospital it was Tony. At the moment she wasn't going to analyse what Gina's identification of her inability to drive herself meant – the last thing she needed was a discussion on why she was quite so matey with Sheelagh, even with someone as ostensibly sympathetic as Gina Gold.
'Thank you, Tony,' Sam said eagerly as she crossed the room.
'Oh, Sam?' said Gina, drawing her back. 'You might've been right about me not taking Sheelagh out of the nick.'
She gazed at her incredulously. 'Might've been?'
Gina chuckled. 'Go on, off with you.'
With one final swift smile in her direction, Sam followed Tony out to the area car. He didn't say a word all the way to the hospital, leaving her to try and collect her thoughts. It didn't much help. The pervading image was of Sheelagh suffering through childbirth and asking for her while she was busy interviewing a scrote like Paul Elms. While the fact that Sheelagh had wanted her there sent a warm tickle along her spine, it was tempered by the realisation that if she had been there she would likely have overstepped the mark. How could she watch Sheelagh going through agony and not lose all sense of her boundaries? She couldn't. She'd learned that the hard way in the last few months and she was certain that being present at the birth would've shattered those boundaries completely. Even so, she wished she'd been there; she wished she'd shared those moments with Sheelagh. Her mind was back to hoping for some fantastical illusion of a relationship that didn't – and couldn't – exist. Now the baby was born she'd have to seriously analyse where her friendship with Sheelagh went from here – feeling this unsettled was untenable really, wasn't it?
All such thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind when they got to the hospital. She went straight to the maternity ward, barely aware of Tony on her heels and flashed her warrant card to get a quick response from the nurses. They directed her to a private room along the corridor and she hesitated in front of the door.
Tony tapped her shoulder. 'You okay, Guv?'
'Yeah, I'm fine,' she lied.
In one firm motion she pushed open the door and walked through. Sheelagh was sat up in bed, the baby in her arms. She glanced over as they entered and the smile that swept across her face was positively radiant. She looked exhausted, of course, but happier than Sam had seen her for months. One peek at the little wriggling bundle was enough to explain why.
Sam was a bit stumped – she wasn't sure how to deal with this so her feet had stopped moving again. The expression on Sheelagh's face betrayed her slight confusion and Sam made a conscious effort to battle away her anxiety. She was visiting a friend after the birth of her baby, that was all. Even if it felt like so much more than that. However, she still found she couldn't move. Perhaps holding herself at arm's length was the thing to do but she couldn't be the friend Sheelagh expected her to be like that. The only way she was going to be able to act like a normal person might under the circumstances was if she let her instincts take over. After a brief struggle, that's what she did.
Stepping to the bed, she wrapped an arm around Sheelagh and gave her a brief hug, pressing a kiss to her warm cheek. Then she pulled back and took a proper look at the baby.
'You wouldn't think she was so early,' she murmured.
Sheelagh let out a soft laugh. 'That was an experience I don't want to relive. Hiya, Tone,' she said, reminding Sam there was someone else in the room with them. 'How's Inspector Gold holding up?'
'I don't reckon she'll forget about it in a hurry, that's for sure,' he answered.
'No, I bet,' said Sheelagh then her attention slotted back onto Sam who was fixated on the baby. 'Do you want a hold?'
She knew her face lit up. 'May I?'
'Sure,' Sheelagh said with a smile. 'Here, take her.'
Somehow, this was as terrifying as holding Abi for the first time all those years ago. She gingerly removed the baby from Sheelagh's arms and perched in the nearby chair, balancing her head delicately and examining every wrinkle in her flesh. For a few minutes she was so entranced that she neglected to pay any attention to the conversation going on between Sheelagh and Tony. Only when the room descended into silence did she realise that Tony had gone and Sheelagh was gazing at her.
'You look enamoured,' she commented.
Sam cleared her throat and rose to hand the baby back over. She was almost overwhelmed by the surge of affection she felt as she deposited her back in her mother's arms and quickly retreated to the armchair, clasping her hands in her lap and wondering just what she looked like to Sheelagh at this moment.
'You shouldn't have been out of the nick,' said Sam finally, trying to locate some solid ground.
As the baby grizzled, Sheelagh replied, 'Gina mentioned you weren't too pleased about that to start with.'
'Well, it's irrelevant now, I suppose,' Sam answered. 'As long as you're both okay. What have the doctors said?'
'That she just didn't want to wait,' said Sheelagh. 'She's on the small side but she's breathing on her own and all the signs are good. They've already said they want to keep us in for a few extra days to keep an eye on us.'
'Over Christmas then?' questioned Sam.
Sheelagh nodded. 'I don't much mind. I wasn't looking forward to putting on a brave face anyway. A load of relatives over, wanting to know exactly what I've done, what I thought I was playing at. It was going to be torture.'
'Maybe she sensed that,' Sam said, gesturing to the baby who was now nestling into her mother's arm. 'Decided to make an early appearance and save you the hassle.'
For a few moments Sheelagh was silent, looking at her daughter with the love practically shining out of her eyes. 'I was so scared, Sam,' she admitted. 'No offence to Gina but I can think of other people who I'd rather were there.'
Sam knew what she meant and grimaced. 'I'm sorry. But,' she went on, more to ease her own discomfort than anything else, 'if you'd have gone into labour in the station I would've been there.'
'Can you imagine how that would've gone?' Sheelagh retorted. 'The unflappable DI Nixon running around trying to get hot water and towels.'
Though she grinned, she knew how close to the truth that was. Sheelagh going into labour in the station would've resulted in the biggest collision of her professional and personal lives imaginable. It was highly likely she would've exposed her feelings to someone, if not Sheelagh herself, and, following hot on the heels of the job decision, that would've left her reputation at Sun Hill in tatters, especially with the likes of Phil Hunter. However, it was the prospect of inadvertently revealing the truth to Sheelagh that was worrying her the most. Something she knew she was more in danger of the longer she stayed in this room and yet she couldn't tear herself away.
To divert the conversation, she said, 'I'd have called an ambulance and, if worst came to worst, I'm sure that Reg Hollis has delivered a few babies in his time. I would've just supervised.'
'Oh, that would've been very relaxing,' Sheelagh answered, ticking her daughter's cheek. 'You need a name, don't you, sweetheart? I was expecting to have more time to think of one.'
Sam watched the pair of them, love flowering in her chest. Then she quietly observed, 'It doesn't matter, does it?'
Sheelagh glanced up. 'What doesn't?'
'Who her father is,' Sam explained. 'As soon as you saw her, that was it, wasn't it?'
'Yeah,' murmured Sheelagh. 'It's all fallen away. Even the guilt, strangely enough. Compared to her, it's nothing.'
'I know that feeling,' Sam said softly. 'Those few seconds before they let me hold Abi were just... Well, the longest seconds of my life. I needed to hold her, I needed to know that she was mine. After that, as soon as I did... That was it,' she concluded. 'And sixteen years later she's badgering me for a tattoo.'
'I'm going to enjoy every minute,' Sheelagh said. 'Before I saw her I didn't realise how much I'd love her, I really didn't. I thought it'd all be muddled up, her with Des and Patrick and everything else but it wasn't. It's so simple now. What?' she queried. 'Why are you looking at me like that?'
Sam shook her head and chuckled. 'I'm just happy to see you happy, that's all.'
Sheelagh's lips twitched but she said nothing. Sam let the moment linger, dealing with both the honest delight of seeing Sheelagh so at ease after her months of torment and the recurring realisation that she was only ever going to be on the periphery of this new little family. She wasn't sure which was showing more strongly on her face right now.
Eventually, Sam cleared her throat. 'Have you called Patrick?'
'No,' admitted Sheelagh with a grimace. 'I should, I know. It just feels a bit too much like facing reality.'
'Being practical for half a second,' replied Sam, 'you need the kids to know, if only in case they come home and you're not there.'
'I know you're right,' Sheelagh said.
Sam shrugged. 'I'm always right.'
'Modest too,' murmured Sheelagh. 'I'll ask them for the phone when you've gone.' Then a thought seemed to occur to her. 'I better had. I need a bag bringing in.'
'There's no need to bother them with that,' Sam answered. 'I can get whatever you need.'
Sheelagh waved her free hand. 'No, no, you've got better things to be –'
'Don't finish that sentence,' warned Sam. 'I've got to go back to the nick to pick up my things. I can easily stop by your house and here on the way home. In fact, Abigail would positively encourage it if it keeps me out from under her feet for another few hours.'
'The Christmas party at the station would accomplish that,' Sheelagh pointed out.
'I'm not interested in that,' she retorted. 'I was only going to spend an hour next to you and Gina making smart comments anyway. You've saved me the trouble.'
'Happy to help,' said Sheelagh, 'but I still don't –'
'I solemnly swear I'm not a thief,' Sam cut in. 'It'd interfere with my career trajectory. Come on, if you can give me one decent reason why I can't drop by and pack what you need instead of you bothering Patrick or one of the kids then I'll shut up.'
'Why don't I believe that?' Sheelagh questioned, tilting her head to the side.
Sam grinned. 'Because you know me too well. Where are your keys?'
With an indulgent look, Sheelagh gestured to the cabinet beside the bed. 'My locker key's in my jacket pocket. You'll find the house keys in my handbag back at the nick.'
Kneeling, Sam retrieved the key then stood up and couldn't resist perching on the edge of the bed instead of returning to the chair. She rested a hand across Sheelagh's arm and stroked the baby's cheek. Then she took a steadying breath and raised her eyes to Sheelagh's entrancing blue ones.
'Is there...' Blinking, she glanced back to the baby. 'Have you got any equipment you need returning or anything like that?'
'No,' Sheelagh said softly. 'Gina took it all. Sam, are you okay?'
'Of course I am,' she lied. 'Listen, I'll go get the necessaries and I'll be back.'
Before she rose, she leaned forward and kissed the baby's nose then, as a legitimate afterthought, kissed Sheelagh's cheek again. Her only response was a gentle smile, the kind that made her chest ache. She was so close that she could almost taste Sheelagh's lips. She'd spent so many hours lately fantasising about crossing this line and here she was, so close and yet so far. With a monumental effort, she dragged herself away.
'I won't be long,' she promised.
'Thank you,' Sheelagh returned.
Only when she was out in the car park waiting for a taxi did she allow her mind to drift back over that entire conversation again. She was safe at this distance, she could allow herself to think of how beautiful Sheelagh looked so soon after giving birth, of how adorable that baby girl was, of how much Sam wanted to claim them as her own. Standing in the December chill, she seriously contemplated whether there was any hope of that and came to the same old conclusion – you couldn't will someone to fall in love with you, especially when it had never crossed their mind and when it went against everything they believed in.
Sometimes the way Sheelagh looked at her pierced right through her heart. There was something in her gaze that Sam hadn't experienced, as she occasionally admitted to herself, since Glenn. Oh, sure, men had been physically attracted to her – and her to them – but they only saw what she wanted them to see or, like Duncan Lennox, they saw more than they cared to and beat a hasty retreat. Sheelagh had seen the worst of her but she hadn't judged her on it. Even when she'd pushed her away, she'd rebuffed the attempts and Sam had felt Sheelagh's influence permeating her life even before she became aware of her true feelings. In the small hours of the morning, when her mind invariably revolved around her love for Sheelagh, she wondered whether it was possible to do all that she had for her and not to have deeper feelings than mere friendship. Was it possible for someone to be as concerned about her welfare as Sheelagh, to offer her comfort, to share so much with her and for it just to be friendly interest? She couldn't help but notice that sometimes it was Sheelagh's gaze that lingered, Sheelagh with an unnecessary touch or smile. If this was a man she was dealing with then she'd be under no illusions where she stood but, she reminded herself, that may just be the way Sheelagh treated her friends. Just because Sam hadn't seen her act that way around anyone else, just because she detected a shift in her manner when they were together and just because Sheelagh had apparently cried out for her during childbirth it didn't mean... Oh, she didn't know what it meant. Analysing this now was hardly helpful – it had been a tumultuous day all told and it wasn't over yet.
She only flitted in and out of the nick, ignoring the party going on in the canteen in favour of collecting her stuff from upstairs and rummaging in Sheelagh's locker for her bag and coat. It felt strange, as though she was intruding on her personal space but, then, it was hardly against Sheelagh's will. It was just another example of one of those things that felt natural until she was reminded it shouldn't feel natural and then she managed to confuse herself about how she should feel. Still, she drove to Sheelagh's house with the coat folded up on her lap, almost ashamed of her urge to keep it close but unable to fight it.
The house was silent when she arrived. She hadn't expected any of the kids to be there and she was fairly relieved they weren't. Even the unflappable DI Nixon might struggle with that conversation. Still, turning the light on in the hallway and seeing the Christmas decorations dangling from the ceiling, she was struck with the uneasy sensation of stepping into somebody else's life where she didn't belong.
Slowly, she climbed the stairs and located the master bedroom, hesitating in the doorway. Trespassing on Sheelagh's marital life felt strange until she reminded herself that it didn't exist anymore. That was the impetus she needed to flick the light on and look around the room.
Tapping into her professional side, she tried to treat this as she would a victim's house or a suspect's. It was only when she pulled open the top drawer of the dresser that she realised exactly what this entailed and her heart skipped a beat. Just the sight of various pieces of Sheelagh's underwear set her mind on a path she could barely cope with and she tossed a few pieces onto the bed and stared at them, allowing her thoughts to roam for a precious few seconds before she gathered herself together. It took her a couple of minutes to gather a bag of clothes together then she looked around the bedroom and let herself picture something she really shouldn't before closing her eyes, doing the decent thing and trying to clear the image from her brain. She wouldn't say she was wholly successful but at least she made the effort.
When she returned to the hospital she was aware of how unsettled she probably looked. If she'd waited for her flush to diminish she would've been hovering in the car park all night so she just had to set her jaw and walk onto the ward as though she didn't have a care in the world. That resolve was shaken by pushing open the door and finding Sheelagh asleep and the baby cooing in her cot beside the bed. The only light in the room came from the soft glow of a lamp on the bedside cabinet; it could easily have been a homely bedroom instead of a hospital room.
Entering as quietly as she could, she deposited the holdall of clothes onto the floor and tiptoed around the bed to peer into the cot. The baby was gurgling happily to herself, kicking her little toes up against her blanket, her eyes the same deep colour as her mother's.
'Hi, sweetheart,' Sam murmured then glanced back to the bed. Picking up a baby without the mother's permission wasn't something she readily did but, that said, Sheelagh had given her permission earlier. As the baby let out a small whimper, she couldn't resist and scooped her up. 'Hey, it's okay, I've got you. Let's sit down, shall we?'
Going to the armchair, she sat down and balanced the baby in the crook of her arm, looking up to check Sheelagh was still asleep. She was and she was as beautiful as her daughter. In this moment, Sam could readily believe that this was her family and the only thing missing was Abi sat in the corner making wisecracks. For a few minutes she decided to suspend her disbelief and enjoy this sensation, an urge that became impossible to fight as the baby blinked at her.
'You're so perfect,' she whispered. 'You're going to be spoiled to bits, I can tell you.' The baby considered her for a couple of seconds then let out a soft cry. 'Shush, shush, don't wake Mummy. She deserves a little bit of sleep, doesn't she? You've messed up everyone's schedules.'
She pressed her lips to the little girl's forehead and inhaled her sweet scent. The baby wriggled her in arms and Sam rocked her back and forth, humming the first thing that came to mind which was, strangely enough, 'I've Been Waiting for You'. She remembered listening to this when she took Sheelagh home after Juliet's death, she remembered the way Sheelagh had softly said she loved it and Sam'd spent the rest of the week listening to it and absorbing the lyrics into her heart.
It seemed to quieten the baby and only when she'd finished the entire song did she raise her eyes to the bed again. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she found Sheelagh watching her.
'How long have you been awake?' she asked, feeling a flush creep over her cheeks in the semi-darkness.
'Long enough,' Sheelagh replied. With a wince, she sat up and then smiled at them. 'You make quite a pair.'
Dismissing that with a shake of her head, she rose and passed the baby over to her mother. Their arms brushed and she felt Sheelagh's breath on her cheek. It was disorientating to the point of unbearable.
She retreated back to the chair. 'I'm sorry we woke you,' she said. 'I should've just dropped the bag and gone.'
'No,' Sheelagh said instantly. 'I'm glad you woke me. That's a wonderful end to my day.'
Feeling her blush intensify, Sam swallowed. 'If you ask me, you're delirious. And you do need your sleep,' she added, standing up again. 'I should go.'
'Sam?' Sheelagh reached out her free hand and Sam found herself grasping it, drawn back to the bedside.
'Yeah?' she said quietly.
'Thank you,' returned Sheelagh earnestly. 'For being here, for everything.'
Sam squeezed her fingers then let go and trailed her thumb along first the baby's cheek and then, unable to stop herself, along Sheelagh's. She met her eye and tried to control her urge to lean forward and kiss her, miraculously succeeding. So, instead of succumbing, she withdrew and tried to infuse her body with that swagger that she'd perfected over her years in CID. While she knew by now it didn't fool Sheelagh, perhaps it was more about fooling herself at the moment.
'I'll come by after work tomorrow,' she said.
'It's Christmas Eve,' Sheelagh objected.
'In which case I might finish work on time,' Sam retorted. 'Did you call Patrick earlier?'
Nodding, Sheelagh replied, 'He's going to tell the kids for me. I don't know more than that. I'm too tired to worry much about it, to be honest.'
'For now, that's good,' Sam said. 'Get some sleep and I'll see you tomorrow. Okay?'
'Okay,' repeated Sheelagh.
It took all her willpower to walk out of that room, all the strength she possessed not to let her feelings cloud her judgement on this one. As soon as she was out in the bitter air she knew she'd made the right decision. Sheelagh had survived one hell of a day and, once more, Sam had been there – albeit belatedly. That was more than enough.
Work the next day was quite sedate. All normal cases had been deferred until after the festivities and it was just a case of dealing with any urgent ones that came through. Phil, Ken and Rob had drawn the short straw of Christmas Day while Sam herself was back in on Boxing Day. She was trying not to think about that too much – that initiated the countdown of her final days as ADI where she needed to gather her paperwork together and think about clearing her desk. The first Monday following New Year was the day she was dreading and yet, for now, she could continue pushing it to the back of her mind.
Truth be told, her mind wasn't much on her work that day anyway. She was wondering how Sheelagh and the baby were faring but knew that calling the hospital wouldn't get her the information she craved and would likely just lead to the nurses and Sheelagh thinking she was crazy. So she tried to focus on her paperwork, gratefully watching the minutes tick by until she could legitimately leave. Everyone else was the same today, luckily; eager to get home for Christmas. Sam herself was spending the day at her sister's with Abi. It negated any danger of her cooking and Abi enjoyed the atmosphere around there. That said, the joviality would start to grate on her after a while. Every year she plotted a way of escape, leaving a present at home or arranging to drop a relative somewhere. This year, though, she had her excuse ready and waiting, one that even Abi wouldn't criticise.
That, however, was something for tomorrow. She had other things to factor in to her schedule today, including slipping out during lunch and joining the panicked Christmas Eve shoppers for half an hour. By the time she was able to clock off at the nick she was more than ready for a day of relaxation, though she acknowledged she was more excited about visiting Sheelagh and the baby.
When she got to the hospital and told the nurse on duty who she was visiting Sam was certain she spotted a flicker of unease. She didn't question it, just waited until she got into the room, and then it made sense.
Sheelagh was pacing around the small room in her dressing gown, the baby clutched to her chest. Nothing unusual about that, maybe, but when she heard the door open and glanced back the tears on her cheeks shone under the lights. She was terrified, Sam realised, and the bags under her eyes coupled with the baby's whines suggested neither of them were particularly well-rested.
Allowing the door to click shut, Sam stepped forward tentatively. 'Hey. What's going on?'
Seeing her seemed to have brought on a fresh spurt of tears and they were spluttering over the baby's head, encouraging fresh wails from the little bundle. Although her first instinct was to approach, Sam held back. She didn't know what was going on but the last thing she wanted to do was spook Sheelagh. She needed her to trust her and the only way that was going to happen was for Sheelagh to make the first move. So Sam just smiled as reassuringly as she could and waited.
After a minute or so Sheelagh squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them again she appeared more like herself and Sam felt able to edge forward around the bed, stretching out a hand to Sheelagh's arm. The alteration in her face became pronounced and Sheelagh burrowed into her shoulder, holding the unhappy baby out to the side.
'Okay,' Sam murmured, rubbing her back. 'You're okay, you're fine.'
Sheelagh pulled away and glanced down at her daughter. Then she held her out and Sam, recognising that this was a show of absolute trust given whatever was going on, accepted her without hesitation. She took the time to comfort the baby, holding her close and settling her in her arms before she turned her attention to Sheelagh.
'What's wrong?' she asked.
Rubbing her eyes, Sheelagh groped on the bedside cabinet for a tissue. 'I couldn't sleep after you'd gone last night,' she admitted. 'I got it into my head that... I couldn't let her out of my sight, Sam. Every time I drifted off I woke up and I just... I sound like a lunatic, don't I?'
'No,' Sam assured her. 'You've had an eventful twenty-four hours, your mind's gone into overdrive, you're hormonal... There's no shame in being a bit on edge right now, okay? Have you had any visitors?' she questioned.
Sheelagh winced. 'Patrick sent Siobhan over earlier. She tried her best but it was awkward.'
'And the boys?' she pressed gently.
'No,' Sheelagh answered, the pain evident on her face. 'Siobhan said they'd visit after Christmas.'
'Okay,' Sam said softly. 'So you've had a stressful afternoon on top of giving birth yesterday, you need ten minutes to yourself.'
Shaking her head, Sheelagh gestured to the baby. 'I can't. What if –'
'Listen to me,' interrupted Sam firmly, 'You know how secure these wards are. I understand your concerns, Sheelagh, I really do. But go downstairs and get yourself a drink and some fresh air. Just for a few minutes.'
'And you'll stay with her?' asked Sheelagh.
'Of course I will,' she replied, making certain to meet her anxious gaze. 'I'm not going anywhere, I promise. We've got a lot to talk about, me and little no name here.'
'Niamh,' Sheelagh said after a moment. 'I'm calling her Niamh.'
'Beautiful,' Sam said, stroking the baby's cheek then looking back to Sheelagh. 'Go on, we'll be fine.'
Stepping forward, Sheelagh kissed her cheek and Niamh's forehead then reached for her bag. Sam watched her out of the room before exhaling and sitting on the edge of the bed. Niamh was happy in her arms now, mouthing at her like a fish. Sam chuckled and tucked her finger into the tiny outstretched palm.
'You're so well-behaved,' she commented. 'Nothing like my little girl. Well, she's not so little anymore. Which reminds me...' Shifting Niamh up onto her shoulder, she rummaged in her coat pocket for the little bunny she'd retrieved from her wardrobe this morning. Then she returned Niamh to her former position and held the bunny up. 'This belonged to my daughter but she says you can have it. She's looking forward to meeting you, Niamh. Yeah, yeah, she is. And you'll wrap her around your little finger, just like you did with me in about ten seconds. You've got the same gift as your mother.'
Niamh stretched her other hand out towards the bunny and Sam let her fingers brush it, all the while staring into those inquisitive eyes. She wasn't an idiot. She knew that the reason she was so entranced by this little girl was because she was hopelessly in love with Sheelagh. Usually her attention span with children that weren't part of a case was limited to say the least. When she really wanted to she could summon patience and affection but with Niamh it just flowed out of her and she felt she could stare at her all day. She'd only ever felt that way about Abi.
As Niamh began to drift off to sleep in her arms, Sam hummed along to her again. The ABBA songbook was coming in handy, though she heard the door open and halted halfway through 'Waterloo'. From the smile on Sheelagh's face, she suspected she hadn't stopped quickly enough.
'She's asleep,' Sam explained in a soft voice. Carefully, she lowered Niamh into the cot beside the bed and plucked the bunny from her arm, placing it on the bedside cabinet.
Sheelagh, after handing her one of the two takeaway cups she was holding, picked up it. 'What's this?'
Grateful to have something to occupy herself with, Sam wrapped her hands around the cup and let the cardboard scorch her palms. 'Oh, it was Abigail's, the first thing I bought her.'
'But don't you want to keep it?' Sheelagh questioned.
'No,' Sam murmured, 'it deserves a good home. Besides, she's a little bit old for it now.'
Chuckling, Sheelagh placed it back on the cabinet then sat down on the bed. She looked more at ease than she had when she'd left the room, Sam noted, though the fatigue on her face was as pronounced as ever. Forget a hot chocolate, what she really needed was a long rest.
'You should sleep while Niamh does,' Sam said seriously.
'I will,' Sheelagh promised. 'When you've gone.'
'Then I should go,' she returned, stepping towards the door.
'Wait,' said Sheelagh quickly and Sam spun back to find her holding up a bar of Galaxy. 'I don't want to have to eat this on my own.'
Since her desire to leave had been dramatically tempered by her urge to stay and play at being a family, Sam relented immediately and returned to her previous spot by the cot. She looked down at the baby while Sheelagh ripped open the chocolate and took a piece for herself.
'You can sit down, you know,' Sheelagh said abruptly, patting the bed.
That was both compelling and terrifying yet, of course, she acquiesced. Dropping beside Sheelagh on the bed, she took the piece of chocolate offered her and stared ahead at the peach-coloured wall. It wasn't an awkward silence so much as a loaded one though, Sam suspected, loaded in different ways for both of them. Certainly, when Sheelagh finally spoke it wasn't related to what Sam supposed was the bunny-in-headlights expression that occupied her own face at the moment.
'I don't know what came over me,' Sheelagh muttered. 'I know Des isn't going to waltz through the door and take Niamh, I know that. If he's got any sense he'll be lying on a beach right now sipping cocktails and eying up the waitresses.'
'Probably,' Sam replied, wondering how Des could think that compared to being in a room with Sheelagh and his new-born daughter. It might've been an enforced separation but Sam doubted whether he'd appreciate how beautiful this was if he was still in London and free. While convention dictated the father should be around, Sam firmly believed that she could do a better job of looking after these two. If only that was an option.
'I think everything just got too much for me,' went on Sheelagh after sipping her hot chocolate. 'I thought I had weeks to deal with all the practicalities, you know? I'd made a deal with myself – get through Christmas and then think about it all.'
'That was sensible,' Sam said, risking a glance sideways. She found Sheelagh gazing right back at her. 'Look,' she continued in a business-like tone, 'whatever help you need, I'm here. We've got that list of nannies, we can ring round as soon as you're out of here. You've got the basics at home, haven't you? Cot, clothes, car seat.'
With a nod, Sheelagh said, 'That was all Patrick's doing before he knew the truth. I was still burying my head in the sand.'
'Don't go back there,' Sam said firmly, stretching a hand onto her arm against her better judgement. 'You need to look forward, focus on staying healthy so you can look after Niamh. Everything else can wait.'
Sheelagh was looking at her with a mixture of affection and something Sam couldn't place. 'What did I do to deserve you?'
She cleared her throat then gestured to the bar of Galaxy on the blanket between them. 'You brought me chocolate, if I recall.'
That raised a laugh and Sheelagh covered up her hand with her own, squeezing hard. 'One of the best things I ever did.'
'Just take it one day at a time,' Sam said after a few seconds. 'We can deal with everything, I promise.'
'I know,' Sheelagh answered. 'You're right.'
'I know,' Sam retorted, earning another chuckle. 'Now, I'm gonna go,' she added. 'You need to sleep.'
She was almost gratified by the flicker of disappointment that crossed Sheelagh's face but she knew she was doing the right thing. Rising, she checked that Niamh was still sleeping peacefully, imprinting the image of the baby on her mind. Then she turned back to Sheelagh still perched on the edge of the bed. At least she was calmer than when Sam had arrived – soothing Sheelagh apparently came as naturally to her as soothing Abi did.
'I'll see you tomorrow,' said Sam.
'It's Christmas Day,' Sheelagh objected.
'So I might have a party hat on,' she returned with a shrug, 'but I'll see you tomorrow.'
'Make it a Santa hat and you're on,' said Sheelagh, arching a challenging eyebrow.
'You drive a hard bargain, Sheelagh Murphy,' Sam replied. 'Get some sleep, okay?'
'I will,' she said.
'You'd better.' Sam held her gaze for a couple of precious moments then smiled once more and left.
Walking along the corridor, she sipped her hot chocolate and thought of the scene she'd just been a part of. The glow kept her warm until she let herself into the house twenty minutes later and began her good-natured Christmas Eve bickering with Abi about the possibility of opening presents early. True to form, her resolve crumbled with an hour to spare but, as they sat in front of the fire surrounded by wrapping paper, Sam found herself speculating how different life could be for the pair of them.
Bringing someone into their life had never been necessary. They were fine, they were a team. A man couldn't add anything to that but he could cause all sorts of chaos. Sam wasn't stupid – she already knew that Abi dipped below her work responsibilities far more than she should. It was something she'd tried to rectify in the months since the truth about Glenn had spilled out and it was certainly something she could battle further now she was returning to DS. However, bringing a third party into their situation had always seemed a little frivolous. Until now. If it was remotely possible, she wouldn't hesitate to bring Sheelagh, Niamh and the other kids she didn't even know into their lives. It wasn't selfish – they could be a good family together, Sheelagh's calmness balancing out Sam's own myopic tendencies. They'd make a good partnership, in every sense of the word; she knew that much.
Her head was swimming with 'if onlys'. The more she allowed herself to think about this, the more it hurt when she inevitably thumped back down to earth.
Sheelagh didn't feel the same way about her – she couldn't. That made all her happy imaginings redundant and painful. Sam could feel herself getting sucked into the illusion of a family but how could she pull back now? Whatever the reason for it, Sheelagh and Niamh needed her. She wasn't one to walk away from her responsibilities and she'd allowed Sheelagh to depend on her – she'd be on hand as long as Sheelagh wanted her there, no matter how much having to remind herself that their relationship was strictly platonic stung.
'You look ridiculous, Mum,' Abi commented as they walked down the corridor, dodging past a couple of nurses snacking on chocolate liquors. On another day she'd likely interrogate them about it but she could let them off this once. It added to the festivity of the ward and she was feeling pretty festive herself after a delicious lunch and a glass of wine with Abi by her side.
'Oh, shush,' Sam said. 'I promised.'
Abi just shook her head in despair. They were almost at Sheelagh's room now and Sam was slightly concerned she'd walk into a similar scene as she had yesterday. Part of her wanted to ask Abi to wait outside but that would be odd under the circumstances and her daughter was nothing if not nosy. She didn't want to have to explain the whole Des situation; it was enough that Abi knew Sheelagh had split with Patrick and was going to be a single mother. The details beyond that didn't matter. So, mentally crossing her fingers, Sam pushed open the door to Sheelagh's room and hoped for the best.
The smile that broke out across Sheelagh's face was worth the embarrassment of walking up from the car park in a Santa Claus hat. Aware of Abi hesitating beyond the threshold, Sam turned around and beckoned her in.
'Abi!'
Sheelagh sounded genuinely delighted to see her and the minor doubt that Abi had voiced during the journey was quickly dismissed. She slipped into the room and moved towards Sheelagh's outstretched arms. Sam watched their embrace with delight as she herself stepped over to the cot. Niamh was awake but quietly kicking her legs around.
'Hey, beautiful,' Sam murmured.
Abi was suddenly at her shoulder. 'She is, isn't she?'
'Do you want to hold her?' Sheelagh questioned, joining them at the cot. 'She's not long been fed so she might throw up on you.'
'Give her to Mum first then,' advised Abi.
Chuckling, Sam glanced to Sheelagh to check it was okay before she reached down and scooped Niamh up. She sat in the armchair beside the bed, looking between the happy baby and Sheelagh talking to Abi by the window, a bit of tinsel hovering over their heads. They were chatting softly and she couldn't hear what they were saying but it didn't matter.
Five minutes later Abi crossed the room to join her. 'I think maybe I'm safe now.'
'Here, take my seat,' Sam said. Rising, she gently passed Niamh over to Abi and watched them sit down together. 'You're a natural,' she added with a smile.
'You're still wearing the hat,' Sheelagh pointed out, turning her around with a slight touch to her arm.
'You told me to,' retorted Sam.
'I didn't think you'd actually do it,' Sheelagh said.
She shrugged. 'I never pass up a challenge, you know that.' Removing the hat, she ran her thumb around the rim then deftly reached up and deposited it on Sheelagh's head. 'There – now we're even.'
Sheelagh laughed and pulled her into a brief hug, squeezing hard. 'Thank you for coming,' she whispered into her ear.
'How did you sleep?' questioned Sam when she drew back, mainly to divert attention from the flush on her cheeks. 'You look better today.'
'I feel better,' Sheelagh answered as she sat on the edge of the bed and watched Abi with Niamh. 'You were right, I was just tired and overreacting. They're letting us go home in a few days if all the tests come back clear. The system's snarled up with Christmas.'
Sam studied her shrewdly. 'And how you feel about that?'
'Completely unprepared,' admitted Sheelagh. 'And elated and besotted and everything else you could think of.'
'That sounds familiar,' Sam said, glancing at Abi fondly. 'All completely normal as far as I'm concerned.'
'That's supposed to reassure me?' Sheelagh queried innocently.
This felt too comfortable, too much like they were a family. That sensation increased when Abi looked up and met her eye. Although Abi couldn't know what Sam was feeling, she still seemed to be happier at this moment than Sam had seen her for years. She liked being part of something beyond just the two of them. Sam had seen it earlier with the extended family and she saw it now.
When she turned her attention back to Sheelagh, she almost got lost in those blue eyes then cleared her throat and reached into her pocket. 'Merry Christmas,' she said as she passed over the rectangular box she'd bought yesterday lunchtime.
Sheelagh's surprise was evident and it was only then that Sam realised this was likely the only present she'd had today. No other visitors seemed to have been – including the kids – and the room was only littered with the decorations and cards that came from the staff and the hospital itself. It was a dismal prospect really and Sam was glad her impulse had taken her to the jewellers yesterday, despite the crowd of people she'd wanted to arrest on the spot for the crime of being irritating.
Slowly, Sheelagh slipped the ribbon off from around the box and dropped it onto the bed between them. Sam picked it up to steady her nerves, wrapping it around her fingers and feeling the pressure against her skin. Sheelagh hesitantly released the clasp on the box then a smile spread across her face.
'Sam, it's gorgeous,' she murmured.
Abi's attention had been caught and she looked over at them. 'What is?'
'It's a bracelet,' Sheelagh answered, holding it up. 'With a teddy bear charm on it.'
Although a little embarrassed, Sam nodded towards the charm. 'Turn it over.' When Sheelagh saw the engraved date and opened her mouth she quickly added, 'There's space enough for her name underneath. You hadn't named her when I –'
She was broken off by Sheelagh throwing her arms around her, eliciting a snicker from Abi in the corner. Sam couldn't bring herself to worry about that – she was too buoyed by the fact that she'd made Sheelagh so happy with one little bracelet.
Pulling away, Sheelagh didn't say a word, just looked at her and, somehow, Sam interpreted every second of it. It was lucky Abi was in the room, acting as her anchor against drifting off completely into the dangerous waters of honesty. Then Niamh aided her further by starting to cry. Looking slightly panicked, Abi stood up and passed her to Sheelagh.
'I think she wants her mum,' Abi explained.
Sheelagh chuckled and rocked Niamh back and forth. 'Pass me the bunny, would you? She likes it.'
As Abi handed it over Sam felt another of those warm jolts through her stomach. It took a few minutes of gentle persuasion for Sheelagh to quieten her daughter with Abi kneeled in front of them and Sam practically resting her chin on Sheelagh's shoulder. Only when Niamh's eyelids drifted shut did she become aware of how close they were and immediately stood up.
'It'll be the end of visiting soon,' Sam said.
Nodding, Sheelagh crossed to the cot and tucked her daughter up nice and snug. Then she turned back and gave Abi a big hug.
'I really appreciate you coming,' she said. 'I'm sure you had better things to do on Christmas Day.'
'Not really,' Abi answered. 'I hope I'll see her again soon.'
'You will,' Sheelagh assured her then looked over to Sam. 'Isn't that right?'
She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant while her heart was hammering. 'I suppose.'
With a smile, Sheelagh gave her another hug. 'You can't fool me, Samantha, not anymore.'
Although she wished that was true, she knew it wasn't. In at least one respect she was committed to fooling Sheelagh permanently and the only reason she was here was because she was apparently pretty good at it. Perhaps that gave her expression a pensive tinge, certainly Sheelagh's own smile faltered as she examined her face. Then Sam ushered Abi out of the door, hesitating on the threshold and glancing around.
'See you,' she said softly.
'You will,' Sheelagh repeated.
Swallowing, Sam nodded and gripped the door as she slipped through it after Abi. 'Yeah, I know.'
Boxing Day at work felt a little surreal, possibly because she'd hardly slept the night before. Once Abi had gone to bed, she'd cracked open a bottle of wine and sat on the sofa staring at the twinkling white lights on the Christmas tree. It was past one before she even climbed the stairs and long after that before she managed to fall asleep. She woke up feeling as though her brain was encrusted with wiry fuzz and the sensation didn't ease when she got to work and had to untangle Phil's notes from the day before. She suspected he'd made them as incomprehensible as possible just to irritate her and she had to remind herself that in a few days he'd be somebody else's problem.
The rest of the day was spent methodically going through the open cases in the department, trying to see what she could square away before the new DI arrived. There wasn't much, unfortunately, but that was mainly down to officers like Phil and Rob. It was notable that Ramani's figures in CSU were much steadier than either of her fellow detective sergeants, despite only being in Sun Hill a matter of months. As DI you could only perform as well as your subordinate officers allowed you to. Sure, she had some good people on her team – Eva, Brandon, Terry and Ken for instance – but they were almost outnumbered and certainly outranked. That was something else the new DI would have to deal with.
When the phone rang mid-afternoon, she was half-tempted to let it go through to voicemail but she recognised it might prove an escape from all this paperwork. She was both startled and delighted to hear Sheelagh's voice on the other end, though her pleasure was tempered by the tone of it.
'Are you okay?' she asked.
'Yeah,' Sheelagh answered, though the pair of them knew it was a lie. 'I just wanted to tell you not to bother coming in later.'
Her heart sank and she was relieved this was a phone conversation instead of a face-to-face chat. 'Oh, why not?'
'Siobhan called,' explained Sheelagh. 'She's bringing the boys in, dragging them by their hair, I think. And she's bringing me the baby-seat and some more clothes so I can go home tomorrow.'
'Tomorrow?' Sam repeated. She was playing catch-up with this conversation and she didn't like it – it meant she was out of the loop with Sheelagh, back on the periphery where she belonged.
'We're both fine,' said Sheelagh. 'Niamh might be small but she's healthy and it's time to get her home.'
'That's – that's good,' Sam muttered, toying with the phone wire.
There was a pause then Sheelagh went on, 'Listen, I know you're busy and I can always get a taxi –'
'You will not,' cut in Sam. She was ashamed of how relieved she was that Sheelagh wanted her help, was asking for her help. 'What time do you want me? I can slip away for an hour easily enough.'
'About two?' Sheelagh suggested. 'Would that be okay?'
'I'll look forward to it,' she said sincerely.
After she'd hung up, she was even less use and resorted to reading some of Rob's reports aloud to see if they made any more sense that way. She was dismayed to find they didn't. The day dragged on and she was glad to get home to Abi and a load of leftovers Caroline had sent back with them yesterday. She found herself thinking of Sheelagh as she sat with a glass of wine, wondering how the visit with the kids had gone and whether she was okay. Was this what her life was now? Dwelling on the future she couldn't have with Sheelagh while getting steadily drunk or was it just a reaction to everything that had happened lately? She filed that question away along with all the other problems to deal with once the new DI arrived and she was a lowly DS again. For now, it was enough that Sheelagh had asked for her help tomorrow.
She told no one where she was going when she left the station, driving to the hospital with butterflies fluttering in her stomach. When she arrived on the ward, she found Sheelagh chatting to the nurses by the desk, Niamh asleep in the car seat at her feet and the bag with her clothes and accessories in beside it. Sam lingered for a moment, watching what looked like the old Sheelagh, at ease with herself, sociable and smiling. Until Sam saw it again, she didn't realise how much it had been lacking in recent months. She'd seen it in flashes, she realised; flashes when they were together and she was endeavouring to make Sheelagh smile – for instance, when she'd dropped that umbrella into Sheelagh's fruit juice the other week. A small part of her conceded that she was jealous. She liked Sheelagh relying on her; she liked being the one to make her happy. However, she couldn't deny that honour to Niamh either, especially when Sheelagh was so enamoured by her new-born daughter. Sam knew she was selfish in some respects but she truly wanted to see Sheelagh happy, with or without her.
Stepping forward, she cleared her throat. Sheelagh glanced over and the expression on her face rapidly shifted from mere happiness to outright delight. She patted the arm of the nurse closest to and muttered a goodbye then picked up the car seat. Sam darted forward and collected the bag before she had a chance to pick that up as well, earning an approving nod from the nurses.
By the time they reached the car they still hadn't exchanged a word but it didn't seem important. Sheelagh loaded the car seat into the back then slotted in beside it while Sam put the bag in the boot. After checking the pair of them were secure, she started the car and drove with more care than she had in years.
'Uh-oh,' Sheelagh murmured suddenly. 'Someone's awake.'
'She's a nosy one,' Sam returned, keeping her eyes on the road. 'Is she okay?'
Her response was a wail that pierced through the car and made her jump. For a few minutes Sheelagh tried soothing her daughter to no effect then she suggested, 'Why don't you put some music on? She must like ABBA, she settles when you sing it to her. Or else that's your natural charm she's attracted to,' Sheelagh added.
Chuckling, Sam followed the instruction then gripped the steering wheel hard again. The song that began drifting through the speakers was 'The Name of the Game', the lyrics feeling more apt than they ever had before. Nevertheless, she was pleasantly surprised when the wailing diminished to a whine then halted altogether by the end of the song.
'Your influence is rubbing off already,' Sheelagh commented. 'Maybe I should be worried.'
'I would be if I were you,' she answered.
Sheelagh's laughter rang around the car and Sam smiled to herself. The rest of the journey was a mix of ABBA, Sheelagh cooing at Niamh and the odd cry from the baby seat. It was over too soon, Sam decided, as she pulled up outside the house. Then her eye was caught by the front door opening.
'Looks like you've got company,' she said, unbuckling her seatbelt.
Siobhan was the one walking towards them while Declan and Connor held back, neither of them looking particularly happy about being there. However, they were there nonetheless and Sheelagh's face betrayed her surprise as Sam turned back to her.
'Are you okay?' she asked.
Sheelagh managed a nod, though she seemed petrified. 'I bet this is Patrick's doing.'
Sam held her gaze in what she hoped was a reassuring manner then briskly said, 'Come on. I've got a job to be getting back to, can't sit here all day.'
Smiling, Sheelagh took a steadying breath then opened the car door. She moved forward hesitantly and gave Siobhan a hug while Sam reached into the back seat and held Niamh's hand in her palm.
'You be good for mummy, okay?' she said seriously. 'Or you'll be seeing far more of me than you'd like.' When Niamh chortled, she squeezed her hand. 'Yes, it's a promise.'
As Sheelagh opened the door Sam let go of Niamh's fingers and slipped out of the car. She smiled at Siobhan politely then retrieved the bag from the boot and handed it over to her. The boys had retreated into the house and Sheelagh seemed apprehensive about following them but Siobhan slotted an arm around her shoulders.
'Come on, Mum,' she said. 'Let's get Niamh out of the cold.'
Sam closed the boot and pressed her palm against the lock, imprinting it on her skin. Then she looked over the car and met Sheelagh's eye. She returned her smile as best she could, relieved that there was no room for conversation. Without waiting, she got back into the car and drove off, seeing via her wing mirror that Sheelagh watched after her for a few seconds before she allowed Siobhan to usher her into the house. Although she didn't see the door close, Sam almost felt it reverberating through her. Allowing herself a wry smile, she turned the music on again, cycling back through the tracks until she hit 'The Name of the Game'.
During the next couple of days, the reality of her demotion hit home.
How she expected to be able to sit outside in the main office and take orders from someone else, she wasn't sure. Her resolve not to leave Sun Hill was based on her feelings for Sheelagh, not on any practical sense she could survive in the nick as a DS. Now the reality was only a few days away she was beginning to realise how difficult it was going to be. Although she didn't know anything about this new DI, she instinctively didn't like him. That was natural, she supposed, but if she was in his shoes she'd want to make her mark. The next months were going to be rough and, really, she'd be better off applying elsewhere. But every time that crossed her mind between Christmas and New Year she just had to conjure the image of Abi, Sheelagh and Niamh in that hospital room and she knew she was staying put.
Leaving the station late on New Year's Eve, she went home to an empty house, knowing that her belongings had been transferred to her new desk near Ken for when she next walked into that building. She wouldn't admit to anyone – apart from Sheelagh – how painful leaving her little office had been tonight but she sure as hell wasn't going to let anybody guess how much it had stung. She just had to deal with it.
When she got home the silence closed in on her. She didn't have plans tonight and, following a text from Sheelagh earlier, she knew the kids were all going to a family party with Patrick and staying with him. They'd be out all night and Sheelagh would be alone with Niamh. The thought had irresistibly coiled around Sam earlier in the day and it was proving overwhelming now she was facing the prospect of a night alone. If she called first she'd feel awkward so she decided to just drive over there and see how she felt. She could always turn around and come home if she bottled out. However, she took the time to change and freshen up first before grabbing a film and a bottle of wine from the fridge and setting off.
The occasional firework was going off as she drove the short distance to Sheelagh's home with ABBA as her accompaniment. She felt insanely nervous, irrationally so. It was just that she couldn't bear being alone tonight. Usually she didn't mind it so much. She'd spent most NYE midnights back at home with Abi after some party or other. In recent years she'd allowed Abi to go for sleepovers and hang out with her friends instead of being bored all night with her and the silence hadn't bothered her. However, she craved company tonight and she was astute enough to know that it was only Sheelagh's company she craved. Of course, she was going to be practical about it – she just wanted to spend the evening with someone she cared about, she wasn't planning on spilling any secrets.
Though she lingered in the street, staring at the soft light gleaming behind Sheelagh's curtains, she finally squared her shoulders and approached the house, knocking on the door instead of ringing the bell. In the short time it took Sheelagh to answer she'd cycled through a dozen opening lines but they vanished from her mind when she caught sight of Sheelagh in a grey dressing gown, her hair damp from a shower or a bath. That took her brain off in such an inappropriate direction that she missed the first thing Sheelagh said to her.
'Sorry?' she asked.
Sheelagh tilted her head to the side. 'Are you okay?'
She cleared her throat and held up the plastic bag in her hand. 'Tell me to get lost if you're tired but I brought wine and a film.'
'I'm not tired,' said Sheelagh with a cautious smile, 'but aren't you spending the night with Abi?'
'She's at a friend's house,' Sam answered. 'At least, that's what she told me and I'm choosing to believe it. How do you feel about Katharine Hepburn?'
'That's your ticket in,' Sheelagh returned, opening the door wide enough to let her by.
Sam slipped past, feeling their bodies momentarily brush and her own react at the brief contact. She went straight through to the kitchen to search for the corkscrew, feeling more at home than she had a right to. Sheelagh didn't pull her up on it, just retrieved two glasses from the cupboard and placed them on the worktop. After yanking the cork out, she poured them two generous helpings and handed one over.
'Cheers,' she said.
'Cheers,' Sheelagh echoed, clinking their glasses together. After taking a sip, she let out a soft sigh of satisfaction. 'Mmm, that's good.'
'Don't drink too much,' Sam warned. 'It'll go right to your head.'
'And you'll be in charge of the baby,' added Sheelagh with a grin. 'What's the film?' she questioned, reaching for the bag.
Sam snatched it away. 'Wait and see. Is Niamh settled?'
'She'll wake up for a feed in a little while,' Sheelagh answered. 'Have you eaten?'
'Yep,' she lied smoothly.
Shaking her head, Sheelagh placed her glass on the counter and went to the fridge. 'I've got a casserole we can warm through. I only had a sandwich earlier so I'm a little peckish.'
'You're not, are you?' Sam queried.
Sheelagh threw her a look over her shoulder. 'Go set the film up.'
Going into the living room with her wine, she did as she was told. By the time Sheelagh entered with two bowls of beef casserole they were all set and she could tell by the look on Sheelagh's face that both her trip over here and her spontaneous choice of film were a resounding success. She was still sat cross-legged on the floor when she was handed her bowl and elected to stay there. Though she raised an eyebrow, Sheelagh nevertheless sat down beside her, wincing at the sensation.
'I'm getting old,' she muttered.
'You gave birth a week ago,' Sam reminded her. 'I've got no excuse.'
Sheelagh grinned. 'You couldn't get up, could you?'
Snorting, she retorted, 'I chose not to. '
'That's your story and you're sticking to it?' questioned Sheelagh.
'Exactly,' Sam replied. 'Now press play.'
For the next twenty minutes they ate side by side on the floor with Katharine Hepburn, Cary Grant and James Stewart as their testy companions. The casserole was delicious and Sam practically licked out the bowl, much to Sheelagh's amusement. Then she set it aside and lolled her head back against the sofa while sipping her wine. She felt remarkably at ease, though she had to remind herself not to relax too much. Not only did she have to drive home later, she didn't want to say anything she might regret in the meantime.
A couple of glances sideways showed Sheelagh was as content as she was. The peace was eventually shattered by Niamh's whimpers coming over the baby monitor. Before they developed into full-scale wails, Sheelagh dragged herself up.
'I'll be right back,' she said.
With her out of the room Sam took the opportunity to pull herself to her feet in the most unladylike manner possible. She was blaming the stress of the last few months for the fact that her body had just been completely disinclined to move once she'd sat down and was trying to ignore the undeniable realisation that she didn't want to leave here tonight. To combat that, she took the bowls through to the kitchen and washed up slowly. By the time she returned to the living room she could hear Sheelagh rustling around over the baby monitor, settling Niamh back down into her cot by the sound of it. Sure enough, she padded down the stairs a few minutes later.
'Oh, we're back on the sofa, are we?' she queried, her lips twitching.
'I brought your wine through from the kitchen,' Sam said. 'Niamh settled?'
'Out like a light,' answered Sheelagh as she flopped down beside her. 'It might last until midnight and all the fireworks. Is Abi staying out all night?'
'Yep,' she replied, 'otherwise she wouldn't be able to hide the fact she's been drinking from me. At least she's trying to hide it now,' she went on philosophically. 'I'm taking that as an improvement. And I trust her anyway.'
'She's settled down a lot,' Sheelagh observed, picking up her wine.
Nodding, Sam ran her finger around the rim of her own glass. 'By some miracle.'
'It wasn't luck,' Sheelagh said. 'It was the way you raised her.'
'I seriously doubt that,' she muttered.
Sheelagh turned her head sideways, resting it against the cushions and studying her. 'Do you remember when I came round while you were on leave, after it all blew up about Glenn?' She waited for Sam's half-smile before she continued, 'You went upstairs and left me and Abi talking. She asked me why I was friends with you.'
Sam grimaced. 'Forthright, that's my girl.'
Chuckling, Sheelagh questioned, 'Do you want to know what I said?'
'I don't know, do I?' she shot back, trying to fight the flush creeping up her neck. It was strange, thinking of that visit and knowing in hindsight that she was ignoring her feelings even then.
'I told her you're one of the most sensitive people I've ever met,' said Sheelagh with a soft smile. 'That's your problem, you know. You care too much and then you try and hold it all together, like keeping Abi in the dark over Glenn and pushing me away when the truth came out. You think if you control it then it's somehow okay. Abi's a bright girl,' she added, 'she takes after you. Once she'd calmed down and got over the shock of it all she was able to look at it in perspective. You were willing to leave your job for her and you kept her,' Sheelagh said firmly, 'when other women wouldn't have been able to under the circumstances. You were strong, too strong maybe.'
Gazing at her incredulously, Sam murmured, 'I was only upstairs for fifteen minutes.'
Sheelagh laughed. 'Anyway, to cut a long story short, I told her I was your friend because of who you are, not in spite of it. I told her it was luck,' she went on, 'that I saw the real you by accident and then there was no getting away from you.'
'I don't think it was an accident,' said Sam quietly.
'No,' agreed Sheelagh after a moment. 'I don't think any of it was, not now. It's been quite a year for the pair of us, hasn't it?'
'Oh, yeah,' Sam replied. She was trying to ignore how physically close Sheelagh was at this moment, how sincerely open and happy she looked in her company. 'Do you regret coming to Sun Hill?'
Shaking her head, Sheelagh questioned, 'How could I? I know it's a mess but I got Niamh out of it – and you. I wouldn't swap it, I couldn't.'
The words shivered through her and she pressed her lips together until they tingled. She hoped that Sheelagh was putting this down to her natural emotional reticence and not delving deeper into the way she was likely looking at her right now. The moment stretched until, utilising all her willpower, Sam lifted her wine up and drained the glass.
'Do you want a top-up?' asked Sheelagh. 'I better not have anymore, I feel light-headed already.'
'I shouldn't,' she said regretfully, 'I'm driving.'
'If Abi's out all night you might as well stay in Siobhan's room. If you want to, that is,' Sheelagh added with a grin, 'I'm not holding you hostage.'
Though every fibre of her being told her it was a bad idea, she found herself nodding. 'That'd be great, thanks,' she said. 'I'll grab a top-up, you put the film back on.'
Sheelagh shrugged and reached for the remote. Sam took an extra moment in the kitchen to steady herself, meaning that when she returned to the sound of Katharine Hepburn throwing a hissy fit she could plop down beside Sheelagh feeling almost normal again.
The next hour or so passed pleasantly enough. Despite the alcohol drizzling through her system, she made sure to keep her wits about her. She was enjoying being here too much to succumb to a drunken lunge that would spell the end of their friendship, however much the look in Sheelagh's eye earlier had suggested it might be welcome. That reoccurring thought kept her occupied until the credits rolled then, glancing over, she finally realised Sheelagh had nodded off.
For a few minutes she stared at her, allowing herself to get lost a little in the fantasies and dreams the evening had reignited. Then a plethora of cracks outside drew her attention to the clock on the mantelpiece – it was midnight. Turning back to Sheelagh, she toyed with the idea of waking her up but decided to let her sleep. A sudden cry over the baby monitor nearly put paid to that so, depositing her glass on the coffee table, Sam hurried up to the nursery, hopeful that the sight of her wouldn't set Niamh off screaming even more.
It didn't. The poor little thing just needed a cuddle and a nappy change, although not in that order. Once she was clean again, Sam sat down in the rocking chair, holding her close and rocking back and forth until the fireworks outside had subsided and Niamh's eyelids were drooping. Gently, she put her back into the cot and rested a thumb on her cheek.
'Happy New Year, sweetheart,' she said.
She watched for a few minutes to make certain she'd drifted back to sleep then quietly returned to the living room. Her intention was to collect her phone, send Abi a quick message then retreat into Siobhan's room and try to sleep. However, she was knocked off her stride by finding Sheelagh waiting for her, a smile nipping at her lips.
'Thanks for that,' she said.
Sam shook her head. 'Pleasure,' she answered. 'You need to go to bed.'
'I don't think I can move,' Sheelagh admitted.
Against her better judgement, Sam extended a hand. 'Come on.'
The warmth of Sheelagh's fingers in her own was almost overwhelming. Sam hoisted her up then let go, too aware of how close they were. She covered for her unease by locating her phone and heading to the door. Sheelagh switched off the lights, yawning loudly as she followed her up the stairs.
Hesitating on the landing, Sam turned to face her. 'Happy New Year.'
'Happy New Year,' Sheelagh returned, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. 'Goodnight.'
'Goodnight,' she repeated.
As Sheelagh stepped towards the nursery to check on Niamh one last time, Sam took refuge in the bathroom. Looking at herself in the mirror, she shook her head. It was only then she realised that she hadn't thought about her demotion since the moment she'd arrived and settled into Sheelagh's company. If someone would've told her this time last year that someone – a woman, a colleague – could have that effect on her she would've laughed in their face. Sure, she'd lost her prized DI position this year but measuring it up against her relationship with Sheelagh and her strengthened relationship with Abi, she somehow believed it was worth the trade.
