When Sheelagh awoke on New Year's Day, her first thought was that she had an audacious burglar singing along to the radio in her kitchen. Then she recalled that Sam had stayed over and smiled, resting her head back on the pillow for a few moments as she came around. Just the one glass of wine last night had gone straight to her head and she cycled through everything she'd said just in case she'd got a bit too sentimental. After all this time she didn't want to scare Sam away by being too mushy – though she wasn't sure if that was possible. Sam had opened up to her so much that Sheelagh doubted a few stray comments about how sensitive and strong she was would be taken the wrong way. She liked where their friendship was at the moment, although she still got the feeling Sam was holding back in some way. However, every time that idea crossed her mind Sam looked at Niamh with adoration or steadied her nerves in such an intuitive manner. She couldn't forget those hours of terror in the hospital when she was petrified about someone taking Niamh until the door had opened and Sam arrived. The formidable officer who was known for being a bit of a cow at the nick had done everything right to calm her down. Looking back on her irrationality in that moment, Sheelagh was struck by how Sam had treated it so much like rationality and dealt with it as such. She hadn't asked what was wrong, she hadn't needed to. The way that they could interpret the smallest look or word these days made this the closest friendship she'd ever had. In terms of how in-sync they were, it rivalled her relationship with Patrick. That closeness was born out of twenty-three years of experience, yet with Sam it seemed to come much easier than that. She was so grateful that they'd fallen into this unconventional friendship, the one that people at the nick seemed to treat with suspicion or confusion, depending on what day it was. Only Gina accepted it at face value but, then, that was Gina all over, wasn't it?
Slipping out of the bed, Sheelagh reached for her dressing gown and checked her reflection in the mirror on the dresser. She couldn't be sure but she thought she'd slept better with Sam in the house and she certainly looked well-rested. She crept down the stairs, determined to catch Sam in the middle of whatever she was up to and she wasn't disappointed – there she was dancing around to some pop music on the radio with Niamh gurgling in her arms.
Leaning against the door frame, she pointed out, 'Just because the song says you're in the mood for dancing, it doesn't mean you have to.'
Sam spun towards her, supremely embarrassed. 'You have to stop sneaking up on me,' she complained then handed Niamh over. 'We were going to have to wake you up anyway, someone's hungry again.'
'Did we disturb you at half past four?' Sheelagh questioned as she kissed Niamh's forehead.
'Is that what time it was?' she retorted. 'I was aware of it but I wouldn't say you disturbed me.'
'That's a diplomatic answer if ever I heard one,' Sheelagh said. 'I'll get her fed and changed –'
'Already changed,' Sam cut in.
'Without a fuss?' asked Sheelagh. 'I don't know, she usually screams the house down for me and you manage it last night and this morning without a tear.'
'She's scared of me,' said Sam with a shrug.
Sheelagh chuckled. 'That must be it. All you do is sing at her.'
'Cheeky,' Sam replied, though she was grinning. 'While you're feeding her, I'll cook some breakfast. What do you fancy?'
'How are you with scrambled eggs on toast?' Sheelagh questioned.
'One of the only things I can make that's edible,' Sam returned. 'Scrambled eggs it is.'
Niamh, sensing her own breakfast was on its way, started grizzling and Sheelagh shot Sam a smile before leaving the kitchen and returning to the nursery with her daughter. When Niamh was fed and content, she put her in the little yellow romper suit that Siobhan had bought her for Christmas and went back downstairs. After placing her on the activity mat in the living room, Sheelagh joined Sam humming sans the radio in the kitchen.
'I thought you said you could make scrambled eggs,' she commented, peering over her shoulder.
Sam nearly jumped out of her skin. 'There you go again.'
'You're in your own little world,' said Sheelagh then she rested a hand on her arm. 'Are you okay?'
Shuffling the eggs with the spatula, Sam turned around, a guarded expression on her face. 'I'm fine.'
'Are you sure?' Sheelagh pressed. 'I know it must be hard for you at the moment.'
For a few seconds Sam seemed blank then she blinked. 'Honestly, I've been trying not to think about it. There's nothing I can do to change it.'
'That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt,' said Sheelagh.
'Not as much as you'd think,' Sam answered. 'Can you pass me some plates? The toast's just popped.'
Though Sheelagh complied, she couldn't help but see the unease in Sam's pose and, suddenly, she wondered if she'd traced it to its source. She watched her pile eggs atop the toast and took hers to the table. Instead of joining her, however, Sam let hers grow cold and made them both a coffee. When she put the cups on the table, Sheelagh stretched over and grabbed her arm. The flicker of fear on Sam's face was enough for her to voice her suspicion.
'I know there's something you're not telling me,' she said. 'I think I know what it is.'
Sam swallowed and glanced down at the hand still clutching her arm. 'I don't know what you mean.'
'You're a hopeless liar,' Sheelagh told her. 'At least when it comes to me. If you've heard something about Des that you can't tell me, I understand.'
'Des?' Sam repeated. Gingerly sitting down, she shook her head. 'I swear I haven't heard anything. You're forgetting, Sheelagh, I'm not DI anymore. If something had been told to me in confidence since Des disappeared then I – I would've told you.'
Sheelagh frowned, scouring her face and coming up with nothing but sincerity. The abrupt certainty that Sam was hiding some knowledge of the investigation into Des's disappearance faded away, leaving in its wake confusion about what it was Sam actually was keeping from her. There was surely something given the way she'd reacted to being questioned.
'Your eggs are getting cold,' Sam said quietly.
Releasing her arm, Sheelagh picked up her knife and fork and began eating. She couldn't say what had changed in the room but she didn't like it. After a minute Sam seemed to recall her breakfast and retrieved the plate from the counter. Sitting down opposite her, she ate apparently without relish until a cry from the living room shattered the uneasy silence and they looked up in unison.
Sam hesitated. 'Do you mind if I get her?'
Sheelagh softened as she recognised the insecurity on Sam's face. Whatever she was denying, it wasn't her very real affection for either her or Niamh and as long as that was the case then she could live without knowing the truth – for now. 'Of course not.'
Instantly abandoning her food, Sam left and returned with Niamh smug at her shoulder. No one other than Sheelagh herself had this knack with her daughter – she screamed at Siobhan and most of the nurses but she'd yet to raise so much as a cry at Sam. She couldn't help but watch the pair of them as they crossed back and forth across the kitchen, seeing in the way Sam pressed her cheek to Niamh's head the very method of calming herself that Sheelagh had been using in the last week. She couldn't stay mad at her knowing how unsettled she was.
'Sam, you don't have to –' she began.
'I'm sorry if I –' Sam said at the same time.
Both of them smiled and Sheelagh shook her head, letting her know she didn't have to do any more explaining. In return, Sam gestured pointedly to her plate and Sheelagh went on eating her eggs while Sam soothed Niamh by turning the radio up again and dancing with her. As far as sights while eating breakfast on New Year's Day went, it was quite an enjoyable one.
Sheelagh had almost finished her coffee when Sam's phone rang. She darted forward and took Niamh, much to her daughter's confusion, and Sam dug into her pocket and smiled at the display.
'Morning, sweetheart,' she said as she answered it. 'Did you have a good night?' She paused and grimaced. 'I didn't think you'd be back so early.' Glancing over as Sheelagh bounced Niamh on her knee, she continued, 'Of course I didn't. I'm at Sheelagh's. But I'm heading home now, I won't be long.'
That made Sheelagh's heart sink but she tried to mask it. Having Sam in her house offering her slightly burned scrambled eggs and dancing with her daughter was something of a security blanket but she couldn't stay forever. She had her own daughter waiting for her at home and a professional challenge waiting in the wings. It wasn't fair to monopolise any more of her time. So she tuned out from the rest of the conversation, returning Niamh to the activity mat in the living room and sitting down on the sofa.
A minute later Sam appeared in the doorway. 'I should go,' she said.
Sheelagh nodded and rose. 'If you need it, on Monday there'll be a glass of wine waiting with your name on it.'
'I may take you up on that,' replied Sam, a smile flickering across her face. 'Thanks for letting me stay.'
'Thanks for breakfast,' Sheelagh returned.
Although for a moment it looked as though she might say something else, Sam merely smiled once more, looked at Niamh, and then left. Sheelagh heard the front door click shut and the engine start up in the street. Only when the noise faded did the oppressive sense of loneliness that had plagued her since she got out of the hospital – even, or maybe especially, with the kids there – settle back upon her with a thud. Her eyes fixed on Niamh and she managed a smile, though it didn't feel the same without Sam there to watch her doing it.
Her invitation for Monday was offered in earnest but she wasn't sure she expected Sam to take her up on it. After all, she appreciated more than most how Sam cocooned herself from pain and, in this situation, she wouldn't blame her. They may not have discussed it much – and Sam might've downplayed how she was feeling – but Sheelagh knew this would test her strength. When she'd approached Sam in the office the night the news came through, she'd admitted that she didn't feel she knew how to be a DS at Sun Hill and she'd implicitly acknowledged that Sheelagh was the reason she was sticking around. It wasn't good for her and it probably wasn't good for her career but it was the surest sign Sheelagh had that she was important in Sam's life. Actions spoke louder than words, especially with Samantha Nixon, and she'd proven herself time and again in recent months. She'd made herself indispensable and, during the first days of the new year, Sheelagh found herself sorely missing her company, though she did send a daily text checking in on her and Niamh.
On Monday she'd put Niamh down to sleep and was half-heartedly flicking through television channels when there was a knock at the front door. It was so soft that she waited for it to come again before she accepted it wasn't in her head and, when she opened the door, she found Sam on the threshold.
'I believe wine was mentioned,' Sam said without preamble.
Sheelagh smiled and stepped aside. 'You go through, I'll get you a glass.'
Looking worn, Sam slipped past her and went into the living room. Sheelagh didn't dawdle in the kitchen, returning with two glasses and a bar of chocolate to share within a few minutes. She found Sam on the sofa with her eyes closed, the expression on her face suggesting she'd been trampled by a herd of cows in the not-so-distant past.
'That bad?' Sheelagh queried as she sat down beside her.
Opening her eyes, Sam took the wine glass and gulped some down. 'You know when you think something's going to be lousy and it's ten times worse?'
Sheelagh winced and rubbed her arm. 'Do you want to talk about it?'
Though she shook her head, her eyes said the opposite. Still, Sheelagh decided to let her relax first, knowing that the words would spill out in the end. She switched the television off and turned the stereo on instead, feeling Sam unwind as they passed the next twenty minutes or so quietly, drinking wine and eating chocolate.
Ella Fitzgerald had just begun crooning along to 'It's Only a Paper Moon' when Sam's defences finally crumbled. She took one long swig of her wine then glanced over.
'DI Manson is the son-in-law of the DAC and goes way back with Phil Hunter,' she said and Sheelagh groaned. 'Yep, that was my reaction. It's like a routine trip to the dentist and he pulls out a machete while you're in the chair.'
Sheelagh snickered. 'Very poetic.'
'I had plenty of time to think when he was out solving my case for me,' Sam replied.
Gazing at her sympathetically, Sheelagh questioned, 'What happened?'
Sam turned sideways on the sofa, burrowing her shoulder into the cushion and meeting her eye. 'It was a strange case to start with. This old man had been imprisoned by his grandson, a drug dealer. Turned out the grandson had been plying him with drugs to keep him quiet while they used his flat as a crack house. This old fella's an addict, going cold turkey thanks to us. We bailed him,' she continued, 'and sent him home with a friend. Course, he's in a right state and he steals from his mate before doing a runner. The next we see of him, he's being thrown off a balcony trying to get a fix. He's in a coma,' she muttered, briefly resting her head in her hands.
'That isn't your fault,' Sheelagh reminded her, massaging circles into her forearm.
'We were struggling for a result,' Sam went on after a moment. 'The suspect wasn't talking, at least not to me. So Manson takes over the investigation with Rob and gets a name, completely knocks me out of the loop. I know it was a power trip,' she added with a self-depreciating snort, 'his way of making his mark, putting me in my place. But he's...he's an old mate of Phil's. He won't tell me how he got the result, which means I don't trust how he did it.'
'I can understand that,' replied Sheelagh.
Sam threw her a grim smile. 'The best part? He made a big show of telling me how good an officer I am, how valuable a part of the team I am. Flattery followed by a suggestion that I might want to transfer if I can't cope with him being in charge.'
Sheelagh sighed. 'He definitely sounds like a friend of Phil's.'
'I'm not saying I can't handle him,' Sam said, gripping the stem of her wine glass till her fingers turned white. 'I'm just not seeing why I should have to. You know, I look at him and I can't see why...' She trailed off and shook her head. 'Vain, I know.'
'No,' Sheelagh said instantly. She entwined their fingers and waited for Sam to look at her before she continued, 'You deserved that job, I'll never stop believing that. You were the best DI I've worked with, and I'm not just saying that because you bring me chocolate and put umbrellas in my drinks.'
Sam let out a soft chuckle. 'Are you sure?'
'Yes,' she answered firmly, squeezing her hand. 'I believe in you.'
'You're hormonal,' Sam said mildly. 'Delirious, maybe.'
'That must be it,' she replied.
They lapsed into silence, Sam seeming a little lighter now she'd shared the difficulties of the day. For her part, Sheelagh was reflecting on how much difference Sam made to the solitude that had engulfed her in the last few days. Her presence was beyond welcome.
'One good thing happened today,' said Sam after a couple of minutes. 'Cindy Hunter and Christine Weaver were tearing strips out of each other. They were pulled in for assault, Phil spent the day trying to sort out the mess.'
Sheelagh couldn't help but smirk. 'That's a marginal comfort.'
'Manson tried to cover it up, of course,' Sam added. 'Let's just say that Jack's been fully apprised of the situation. Accidentally, you understand.'
'I do,' answered Sheelagh. She suddenly realised she was still holding Sam's hand and released it with a little laugh. 'Do you want a top-up?'
It seemed to take Sam a few moments to hear her. 'No, I'd better not. I don't want Abi thinking I've done a bunk.' She tilted her head further into the sofa and questioned, 'How are you anyway? Are the kids around?'
Sheelagh shrugged. 'In and out, more out than in. Patrick's insisted they spend some time with me but Siobhan's busy and the boys aren't all that impressed with the idea.'
'It's early days,' Sam said.
'I know,' she replied. 'I just don't want them hating Niamh.'
'No one could hate her,' returned Sam. 'How did your interview go with that childminder by the way?'
'Good,' Sheelagh murmured, 'I like her.'
Sam was watching her shrewdly. 'But?'
'But leaving her scares the life out of me,' she admitted.
'Of course it does,' Sam said, taking her hand again. 'No one's saying you have to do it tomorrow, Sheelagh. Wait until you're ready.'
'I'm a single parent now,' she answered with a grimace. 'I wish it was just about the time.'
From where she was sitting, it looked as though Sam bit back her first response to that and instead contented herself with squeezing her fingers until they ached then letting go of her hand and standing.
'Thanks for the drink,' she said.
'Anytime,' Sheelagh said sincerely.
As Sam stepped towards the door, she faltered. 'Niamh okay?'
Sheelagh smiled. 'Perfect.'
'Good,' Sam murmured. 'Let me know if you need anything, won't you?'
'Just company,' she said honestly. 'Whenever you can spare an evening.'
Hesitating in the doorway, Sam looked at her. Whatever was going on in her mind was a mystery to Sheelagh but she stepped forward and gave her a brief hug. Pulling back, Sam said, 'The thought of coming round got me through today. Thank you.'
'It should be me thanking you,' Sheelagh argued.
'No,' Sam said softly, 'it shouldn't.'
Without another word, she smiled and slipped out of the house. Between tending to Niamh and trying to deal with the household chores, Sheelagh spent the night trying to work out what Sam had meant by that but she couldn't. In the end, she didn't suppose it mattered. She'd wanted to help Sam and she'd needed her help – what more was there to it than that?
Although over the next couple of days Sheelagh fell into a routine with Niamh, she deliberately forced herself not to get too accustomed to it. She didn't know exactly when she'd be returning to work but it'd be soon and she didn't want to make the enforced separation harder than it needed to be. The childminder she'd interviewed at length – and who came from a recommendation via Sam anyway – was happy to start anytime and so Sheelagh was almost waiting for a sign that she should take the plunge and go back to the station. In the meantime, she made the most of the time with her daughter, absorbing all those moments she'd forgotten with the other three from sheer exhaustion.
She got her first glimpse of DI Neil Manson on the local news days after his arrival at Sun Hill, proudly announcing they'd arrested a suspect in a hammer attack inquiry. Perhaps it was merely Sam's distaste ringing in her ears but Sheelagh really didn't like the look of the guy. A sharp suit and a narrow mind was what she got from that brief press conference. She was aware, of course, that similar things were said about Sam, though they were pretty far from the mark these days. Idly, she wondered that if she'd been around during Sam's early days at the station whether she would've thought the same about her but, somehow, she doubted it. She liked to think that she would've seen through the facade anyway, even if the special circumstances of Joanna's disappearance that allowed her to crack through it were absent.
Sam had kept in contact but, even so, Sheelagh was surprised when she opened the door to find her on the threshold one evening. Instantly, she recognised the quiver in her expression and let her straight past. Niamh wasn't yet in bed and Sam kneeled beside the activity mat to say hello. Sheelagh watched with growing unease then shook herself and went to put the kettle on. By the time she returned the tension in Sam's shoulders had lessened somewhat and she threw a glance over her shoulder, smiling weakly at the cup of tea. After one more look at Niamh, she rose and joined her on the sofa.
'Thanks,' Sam said as she took the cup offered to her and wrapped both hands around it. Finally, she continued, 'You know how I said nothing stuck to Cathy Bradford?'
The topic of conversation was unexpected, though Sheelagh couldn't say why. 'Yes...' she said slowly.
'Evidence has come to light that suggests Cathy was the one who pushed Brandon Kane's ex-wife down the stairs,' explained Sam. 'Added to which, her fiancé turned up dead in his own freezer yesterday and she's done a bunk with Brandon's kids.'
Sheelagh stared at her, incredulous. 'Are you serious?'
Sam shrugged and raised her cup to her mouth, noticing just in time that her hands were trembling and lowering the cup back to her lap. Reaching over, Sheelagh massaged her arm, trying to comfort her whilst absorbing the news. She couldn't get her head around it but she knew Sam was having the same struggle. It was one thing to accept that Cathy Bradford was a bad copper, disloyal to her colleagues and disrespectful to victims, and quite another to think that she was a potential murderer and a kidnapper.
'Why take Brandon's kids?' she asked finally.
'The theory's that she's obsessed with Brandon,' Sam answered. Her attention seemed to be fixed on Sheelagh's fingers swishing up and down her arm. Eventually, she continued, 'I don't know about that but she's definitely unhinged. Dozens of coppers around her every day and not one of us noticed. I'm meant to be a profiler!'
'You're not meant to be profiling your own colleagues,' Sheelagh pointed out. 'You might've been one of Cathy's superior officers but you didn't see her on a day-to-day basis, not like Ramani or June or Polly. None of them saw it – why should you?'
'If she hurts those kids...' murmured Sam then shook herself and drew her arm away. 'Look, I just thought you should be in the loop, in case you see it on the news.'
'I appreciate that,' answered Sheelagh. Stretching for her own tea, she took a sip then looked at Niamh happily gurgling on the activity mat and an idea struck her. 'You know, madam over there needs a bath before bed.'
Sam glanced over, a hopeful smile on her face. 'Really?'
It was funny how something so simple had lightened Sam's burden. Sheelagh nodded and placed her cup back on the table before collecting Niamh from the activity mat. 'Come on, I find it therapeutic.'
In the bathroom she handed Niamh to Sam while she filled the basin. She liked seeing them together and gladly took a back seat while Sam washed her carefully. It wasn't much of a surprise that Niamh won the bathing war, gleefully splashing Sam with most of the contents of the basin before they dressed her for bed. Sam followed Sheelagh into the nursery as she put her down into the cot and rested her arms on the side.
'I'd love to be that innocent,' she commented. 'That unaware of what was going on around me.'
Sheelagh stroked her arm, hitting a patch of sodden cotton and chuckling. 'You'll catch your death if you go out like that.'
Inhaling deeply, Sam turned to face her. She looked worn, probably the shocks of the day catching up with her, but there was something simmering beneath the surface that Sheelagh couldn't put her finger on again. Feeling brave all of a sudden, Sheelagh opened her mouth to question just what was bothering her when Sam cleared her throat and stepped towards the door.
'I'd better get home,' she said. 'One of those nights I want to really annoy Abi and give her a hug.'
Smiling, Sheelagh realised she couldn't argue with that, even if she didn't think it was the reason she was abruptly so eager to leave. Nevertheless, she followed Sam back downstairs and watched her open the door.
'Listen,' Sam said, turning around with a conflicted expression on her face, 'there's no reason for Cathy to come anywhere near you but even so...'
'I'll be fine,' Sheelagh assured her. 'You be careful though.'
'I will,' promised Sam. 'I'll ring you tomorrow.'
Sheelagh watched her to the car before she closed the door, feeling the silence in the house acutely. Her mind drifted back to poor Brandon, missing his kids while Cathy Bradford was out there plotting who-knew-what. It was strange: thinking of Cathy as a murderer and kidnapper wasn't much of a stretch from the way Sheelagh generally viewed her, only with more criminal prosecutions in her future. She just had to hope they would catch up with her quickly for the sake of those two frightened children who'd apparently already lost their mother to Cathy Bradford. Sam was right – it was crazy that none of them had noticed how unhinged one of their colleagues was but, then, Sheelagh hadn't recognised how much of a danger Des was until it was too late. With a sigh, she climbed the stairs and went to check on Niamh, despite only leaving her a few minutes earlier.
The next morning the radio reported the abduction of Brandon's kids, though it didn't mention the fact that the kidnapper was a serving police officer, likely to be in uniform or at least using her position to evade detection. Sheelagh would've assumed that was a vital component of locating her but perhaps it was too close to the bone for the Sun Hill top brass. After all, there were only so many times you could scream 'bad egg' before people just came to believe the whole roost was corrupted. Even so, if something happened to Brandon's kids and the Met didn't do all it could to find them, there'd be more than the reputation of the station at stake.
Sheelagh elected to stay in all day, partly because Niamh was a little bad-tempered and partly because she herself was. Being away from Sun Hill when she knew so much was going on was difficult to bear. If she'd ever had thoughts of being a stay-at-home mum, they were banished during that long day. She longed to hear some news and it came in the form of a phone call around half-past eight.
'I would've popped round but I'm exhausted,' Sam said.
'Don't worry about that,' Sheelagh answered. 'Any news on Cathy?'
'Not yet,' she said, the irritation evident in her voice. 'Have been you listening to the news bulletins?'
'For all the good it's done,' returned Sheelagh. 'Why aren't they publicising the fact she's a copper?'
'Don't ask me,' Sam replied. 'I don't care about people being embarrassed, that's not what this is about. You know, when Joanna was missing and we thought somebody might've taken her...' She paused and Sheelagh heard her uncertainty across the miles. 'I think that was better,' she went on finally. 'There was the possibility that someone hadn't. Whereas with Cathy... We know she's dangerous, we know she wants to hurt Brandon. Who cares what happens to the nick while they're busying playing politics?'
Sheelagh couldn't help but smile, relieved that Sam couldn't see the affection on her face. It would've only embarrassed her. Instead, she just said, 'I thought the same.'
'Are you and Niamh okay?' Sam questioned after a moment of silence.
'We're fine,' Sheelagh said firmly. 'You go on, unwind. Eat something,' she added pointedly.
Sam chuckled softly. 'I will, I will. I'll see you soon, okay?'
'Okay,' she said. 'Night, Sam.'
When she'd put the phone down Sheelagh made a point of putting the television on, trying to distract herself from the solitude. In a way, she was grateful for this solitude. The boys were being sent home at the end of the week for a few days, as Patrick tried to insist they got to know their baby sister. Sheelagh was dreading it after the tension of the week between Christmas and New Year but she knew it needed to be done. Things couldn't stay this fractured forever.
The next day dragged on. She took Niamh out for a walk around the park, exchanging chit-chat with other mums and wondering what their home lives were like. As much as she was trying to make the best of this mess she found herself in, she couldn't help but let her mind wander once in a while. If she hadn't been tempted by Des, of course, she wouldn't have Niamh and that was inconceivable. If Des hadn't thrown that petrol bomb though... Well, that was a road her mind occasionally travelled down and she struggled to think how things might have been.
She loved Des – at least she thought she did. But she was muddled about who she'd fallen in love with. She'd had to believe they were close or she couldn't have stumbled into the affair in the first place but surely the secrets Des kept from her made the relationship an illusion, nothing more than that. He'd treated her so badly – even if she couldn't hate him for it because she had Niamh – that what she thought she'd felt for him had faded. Could they have had a life together, raising Niamh as a happy little family? Somehow, she didn't think so. Maybe it was the secret he was keeping but she never felt safe around Des, never got the impression that he'd put her and the baby above all else. They were an inconvenience to him, a diversion that got out of hand. She was just fortunate that she seemed to have someone else in her life who didn't treat her and Niamh as a problem, who'd stay at Sun Hill even when it was difficult just in order to stay close to them.
That evening Sheelagh had put Niamh down and was slumped in front of the telly when there was a knock on the door. She knew who it was and rushed to answer it. Leaning against the wall, Sam looked completely shattered and Sheelagh immediately stretched out and ushered her inside.
'Come on,' she said, 'I'll pour you a glass of wine.'
Sam threw her a grateful glance as she took her through to the kitchen and deposited her at the table. Sheelagh poured them both some wine and settled opposite, sensing she needed to get around to it in her own time.
Finally, after a few minutes of silence, Sam looked up. 'Cathy's in custody after setting fire to the boiler room, the kids are fine. Brandon's been stabbed but he'll be okay.'
'Stabbed?' Sheelagh repeated, trying to process all that information.
'It was a real mess,' Sam answered, sipping her wine. 'How she got access to the boiler room, we don't know yet. It was Brandon she was after,' she went on. 'Like any parent would, he put himself in the way, offered a hostage swap and she took him up on it. She'd been drugging the kids to keep them quiet,' she added with a grim shake of her head. 'You wouldn't credit it, would you? She's cracked, Sheelagh, completely cracked. She reckons she loves Brandon and she put him through that?'
Seeing the conflict in her face, Sheelagh rested a hand on her arm. 'Are you all right?'
Sam attempted a smile. 'The last thing I need is the DI thinking I'm some emotional loose-cannon.'
'You needn't worry about that here,' Sheelagh reminded her.
'I know,' she murmured, meeting her eye. 'Anyway,' she continued after a moment, 'the Super tasked Eva and me with trying to piece together her life, trying to get a handle on her. Didn't get the impression the DI was altogether pleased with that one but that's his lookout. They evacuated everyone – you've never seen the nick so quiet,' she said, tilting her head to the side. 'She cut the power so we were up in CID alone in the dark looking through the scrapbook of a... Well, let's just say she's got problems. When she was seven, she was caught wasting police time by giving false information on a serial killer. She had all these clippings about that and her career but no photos or family letters, nothing like that. No one spotted it, any of it.'
Sheelagh massaged her arm to bring her back to the present and asked, 'What happened? You said she started a fire?'
Blinking, Sam nodded. 'TSG tried to break in and she flipped, poured a can of petrol everywhere and set light to it. We were lucky they managed to put it out so quickly.'
'And everyone's okay?' Sheelagh pressed. 'Brandon and the kids?'
'Yeah,' said Sam, 'they're fine. Cathy's going away for a long time – one way or another – and Brandon finally gets justice for his wife's death. On the other hand, every case Cathy ever had a hand in is now open for appeal. That's going down like a lead balloon. I'm almost relieved I don't have to deal with it.'
'Almost,' said Sheelagh with a soft smile.
Sam chuckled and raised her glass a touch. 'Almost.'
They lapsed into silence, Sheelagh feeling perversely calm for the first time in days. Despite the news she'd carried, Sam's presence had made her feel a little more secure in her own life and she'd missed her company. There was something comforting about sitting beside her with Niamh safely tucked up in bed, knowing they could be frank with each other. Even that little niggle about what Sam was keeping from her didn't matter at the moment.
'Have you eaten?' Sheelagh asked eventually.
The little groan was answer enough and Sheelagh patted her on the knee before rising and going through to the kitchen. Yesterday afternoon she'd made a cottage pie to freeze in batches and it was easy to stick one of those in the microwave and garnish the plate with salad while she waited for it to ping. She didn't realise that Sam was leaning against the door jamb until she turned around to put the lettuce back in the fridge and nearly jumped out of skin.
'Sorry,' Sam said. 'I didn't mean to startle you.'
'I'm just not used to having someone else in the house anymore,' she admitted. 'Not that I'm complaining, you understand. It's nice. More than nice,' she amended then the microwave pinged. 'You sit down.'
Sam complied without a word. When Sheelagh put the plate down in front of her, she smiled and dug in with more relish than Sheelagh suspected she actually felt, though she appreciated the act. Instead of watching her eat, she busied herself with doing the washing-up she'd neglected earlier, breaking off when Niamh cried a little from upstairs. All her daughter wanted was a cuddle and a nappy change, which was easily attended to, and then she settled her down and returned to the kitchen. She found Sam washing-up her plate, slowly and methodically.
'You didn't have to do that,' Sheelagh told her.
Turning around, Sam reached for the towel to dry her hands. She seemed preoccupied, that unsettled expression on her face again. 'I shouldn't have disturbed your evening,' she said.
'Of course you should,' answered Sheelagh. 'What's the matter?'
Sam pushed off from the sink then hesitated. 'It's been a long day, that's all. Thanks for the meal,' she added, edging towards the door like a caged tiger. 'I would've just drowned myself in a glass when I got back.'
Sheelagh held out an arm to halt her escape. 'You're not okay. What's wrong? You can tell me, you know that.' She was wavering, Sheelagh could see that, and she sensed her opportunity. Stepping forward, she rested a hand on her shoulder. 'Talk to me.'
'I don't...' Closing her eyes briefly, Sam murmured, 'I can't... Sheelagh, I just...'
'You can,' she insisted, making sure to look her in the eye. 'Look, you've been so good to me lately, let me help you.'
'Sheelagh...' Sam's voice was quivering.
'It's okay,' she assured her. 'Whatever it is, you can tell me. It's got to be better than what you're doing to yourself. I hate seeing you like this.'
Sam licked her lips, opened her mouth then winced and stepped back. 'I'm fine,' she said, straightening her jacket. 'I'd better get back before Abi starts to worry.'
Sighing, Sheelagh nevertheless nodded and stepped aside to let her past. 'Thanks for coming to tell me about Cathy.'
'You're welcome,' Sam replied. She walked into the hallway then glanced back. 'Thanks, Sheelagh.'
She smiled. 'You're welcome,' she echoed.
With one final look, Sam fled out of the door, closing it behind her with as much care as she would if it had been the nursery door. Sheelagh returned swiftly to the living room and twitched the curtain, checking to see if Sam drove off straight away but she didn't. Instead, she seemed to be sat with her head resting on the steering wheel until she abruptly lifted it up and drove off without any further hesitation. Frowning, Sheelagh let the curtain fall back and listened to the silence of the house. She wished she knew what was bothering her but, then, Sam had put up with not knowing what was bothering her for quite some time. She couldn't press her to talk when she so obviously wasn't ready.
A few days later she was pleasantly surprised to receive a call from Gina asking her to go in for an informal chat and to show Niamh off to the relief. She practically jumped at the chance to leave the house with a purpose, more so since the kids were due back tonight and she was buzzing with nervous energy.
When she got into the nick, she was rapidly surrounded by people desperate for a look at the baby. It was funny how the most sensible police officers suddenly became immensely interested in a small bundle who could be sick on them at any moment but she liked the thrill of everyone admiring Niamh. In the short time she'd been away from the station, Sheelagh could honestly say she'd missed it and she basked in the delight her colleagues had for Niamh when her siblings were ambivalent at best.
Although Reg was eager to hold her and proudly stated he'd never dropped a baby, Sheelagh diverted him by asking whether he'd actually held one. As he equivocated on that point, she spotted June along the corridor and gestured for her to take Niamh as someone she could trust. It seemed she was a natural and the crowd gradually dispersed as officers returned to their duties.
'She's gorgeous, Sheelagh,' June said as she passed her back.
'Don't I know it?' she retorted. 'Is Inspector Gold in her office?'
June nodded. 'I think so. Do you need someone to watch her for a minute while...?'
She trailed off as she caught sight of something beyond her shoulder. Somehow, Sheelagh knew exactly what it was and turned around to greet Sam, finding the delight and surprise on her face poorly masked – at least in Sheelagh's seasoned eyes.
'Hey,' Sam said, ever-so-slightly guarded in front of June. 'What are you two doing here?'
'I'll leave you to it,' June said diplomatically as she slipped away.
Immediately, Sam seemed a little more herself. She leaned forward and stroked Niamh's cheek before raising her eyes. 'Come on,' she said, 'what are you doing here?'
'Gina wants a word,' she answered. 'She suggested I bring Niamh in.'
'Because she's beautiful, isn't that right?' Sam returned as she slid a finger into Niamh's outstretched palm. 'Yeah, absolutely gorgeous. Listen,' she went on, more like a DS than a children's television presenter again, 'why don't I watch her for five minutes while you talk to Gina?'
'I couldn't ask you to do that,' Sheelagh said.
Sam shrugged and focused her attention back on Niamh. 'You don't want to go see the nasty police lady, do you? No, you want to come hide in the Sergeants' Office with me, don't you? Yes, yes, you do.'
Sheelagh couldn't help but laugh. Sure, they were alone in the corridor but they were in the middle of the station and Samantha Nixon didn't seem quite aware of that fact at the moment. Catching the sound, Sam looked up and smiled.
'You'll get into trouble,' Sheelagh pointed out.
'I don't care,' replied Sam and it was obvious she meant it. 'In fact, I think ten minutes with this little girl is just what I need to get me through another afternoon working for DI Manson.'
'Okay, okay,' said Sheelagh, handing Niamh over without another word of argument. 'You go hide in my office and I'll be as quick as I can.'
Sam grinned, lifting Niamh's hand up to wave goodbye as she retreated into the Sergeants' Office and closed the door. Sheelagh took a moment to smile at the very idea of Samantha Nixon shirking her duties to look after a tiny baby then knocked on Inspector Gold's door.
Gina motioned her inside with the look of a woman on the edge. Sheelagh took a seat and waited for the inspector to speak.
'I thought I told you to bring the baby in,' Gina said.
'I did,' she said. 'I left her in lost property, I didn't think you were that fussed about seeing her.'
Gina's lips twitched. 'Where is she really?'
'Across the hall with the only other person who can stop her crying,' she answered. Then, seeing Gina's mouth about to open, added, 'Though I don't want to get her into trouble so...'
'Course, I'll make this brief,' Gina said, making an active effort to smother whatever it was she'd been going to say. 'I suppose you've heard about our staffing problems? Cathy Bradford going loopy for a start, Brandon's left without notice and Jim was in court testifying against his wife today. He's going to take some time off, not that anyone can blame him. But it does leave us in a bit of a pickle. Cathy's escapades have left us short in uniform and Jim's left a gap in CSU.' Gina hesitated and lowered her voice. 'The new DI doesn't seem inclined to chuck resources at CSU meaning we'll the ones doing it. In short, I could really do with you back here, Sheelagh. I need experienced officers, preferably ones who aren't gonna end up in the loony bin.'
'Thanks,' Sheelagh said. 'I think. When do you need me?'
'Honestly?' asked Gina. 'Yesterday. But your bodyguard out there would have my guts for garters if I pushed you into coming back before you're ready.'
'I'm ready,' she said. 'I don't want to get too comfy at home and I've got a childminder lined up. She can start any day.'
'Any day?' Gina repeated hopefully.
Sheelagh steeled herself and took the plunge: 'How about tomorrow?'
When she left the office a few minutes later she felt a little frightened but tried to bury it, mindful that Sam would spot it in an instant. She entered the Sergeants' Office to find Sam holding Niamh who was practically asleep in her arms. Closing the door quietly, Sheelagh sat down opposite them.
Sam looked up, surveying her more rapidly than she had a right to. 'What's wrong?'
'Nothing,' she said firmly. 'I start back tomorrow.'
'Was that your idea?' Sam questioned, sounding battle-ready.
Holding up a hand, Sheelagh said, 'Yes, it was. Honestly, I've been going a little stir-crazy. I love her to bits but if I'm not going to be with her all the time then I need to get into the habit.'
Sam sighed and looked at the slumbering baby. 'I understand that.'
'But you're worried,' Sheelagh said. 'Don't think I don't appreciate it. And now I think I'll go home and spend some time with her before tomorrow morning.'
'Okay,' Sam replied quietly. She pressed a kiss to Niamh's forehead then stood and handed her over carefully. 'How about I walk you to the car?'
'Shouldn't you get back upstairs?' Sheelagh asked.
'Probably,' Sam retorted, yanking the door open. 'Come on.'
There was a marked change in Sam's demeanour inside the station, Sheelagh noticed, and it was nothing to do with anxiety about their friendship being revealed and everything to do with her demotion back to detective sergeant. It didn't suit her and she seemed on her guard with every step, though that was diluted by the protective stance as she opened doors for them and shooed people out of their way. It was a contradiction, one Sheelagh supposed she'd unravel properly when she was back at work.
In the car park, Sam watched her load Niamh into her seat then said, 'If it gets too much for you, will you tell me?'
Sheelagh glanced to her as she shut the door. 'Yes,' she said simply.
Smiling, Sam leaned forward and kissed her cheek. 'That was easier than I expected it to be,' she replied. 'I'll see you tomorrow.'
Although she got into the car, Sheelagh hesitated until she'd watched Sam out of sight in the rear-view mirror. The difference between her stride and shoulders was acute. She didn't look as though she was meant to be walking through the doors to Sun Hill anymore and, yet, strangely enough, she'd looked completely at home walking her and Niamh to the car. Once again, Sheelagh was struck by the undeniable knowledge that Sam should leave this nick, start afresh somewhere else. However, she couldn't imagine how desolate the station would feel if she walked in tomorrow and she wasn't there. Perhaps she was being selfish again but she really couldn't picture it.
Saying goodbye to Niamh the next morning was as hard as she expected it to be. She was nervous about leaving her with the childminder, though the young woman was lovely enough and fully-qualified. Fortunately, Niamh seemed fairly comfortable with her. It wasn't anything like the attachment she had for Sheelagh or Sam but it'd do for now.
When she got into the nick, she began to feel a little better, it was almost as though she'd never been away. Gina posted her to custody and she soon got back into the swing of things, even if her mind never completely detached from Niamh. She'd returned to work soon after the birth of her other three kids – just not this soon and not under these circumstances. She had to remind herself it was best for both of them, though she did check in with the childminder before she settled down to work and she was perturbed by a text from Patrick asking if they could go out for a meal tomorrow night. She told him yes, tentatively, then wondered how she was to persuade the childminder to work overtime on only her second full day on the job.
Not long after her arrival on custody Ken came downstairs, looking as though he had a headache.
'Morning, Sarge, welcome back,' he said. 'Can I speak to Ted Howel please?'
'Sure,' she replied, checking the custody log. Then she frowned at the preoccupation on his face. 'Are you all right?'
He rested his arms on the desk and rubbed his eyes. 'I am,' he muttered. 'Can't say the same for DS Nixon though.'
Sheelagh winced. 'What's happened?'
'She was leading a raid this morning,' he explained after glancing along the corridor to check they were alone. 'Except Rob fudged the paperwork and they busted in on a couple together in the shower.'
'Oh, no,' she murmured. 'Did the DI hit the roof?'
Nodding, Ken said, 'It's like a pressure cooker up there. The DI's on the rampage, Rob's covering his own back and Samantha's...'
'I understand,' Sheelagh said. She could well imagine Sam's irritation at taking flak on Rob's account coupled with her natural distaste for her new superior creating a power-keg. 'I take it she's set on getting a result?'
'Come hell or high water,' Ken said as he straightened up. 'I'm better off in the interview room.'
She smiled, albeit weakly. 'I'll get Mr Howel for you.'
As the morning wore on, she found herself wondering what was happening with Sam's case. If this was how things were today then, surely, they'd been this testy since DI Manson arrived at the nick. Yet Sam hadn't said outright that she was struggling at work, not even to her. Sheelagh had known she was, of course, but that wasn't the point. Or was it? Was the fact that she and Sam seemed to understand each other without the need for words a testament to the strength of their friendship or did it just allow Sam to hide the intensity of her emotions? Was this what she was keeping from her? Did she assume that if Sheelagh knew how much she was struggling to acclimatise herself to this new regime then she'd push her to leave? Maybe she would, if it was causing her such distress. No one wanted to see a friend in pain, least of all one who'd done as much for her as Sam Nixon had.
The tension – if that was the right word – in the nick rose a notch when Superintendent Okaro's wife was arrested in connection with the theft of church funds. She'd counter-signed a load of cheques for a pastor who, it was supposed, she had more than just a friendly interest in. It was shaping up to be a real mess. Booking in the Super's wife to custody wasn't an experience Sheelagh was eager to relive and, judging from the look on Gina's face, she didn't much appreciate having to usher Denise Okaro into the duty solicitor's room to talk to her away from the rabble either.
Following a round of interviews, both Denise Okaro and her pastor friend were sat in custody with Eva when the Super came down. He shook the pastor's hand – as if disregarding the talk of an affair that had been floating around the station all morning – and requested a chat with his wife in the duty solicitor's office. As Sheelagh watched them through the blinds, Eva joined her at the desk.
'Have you heard what happened with Sam's case earlier?' she questioned quietly.
Sheelagh's attention immediately shifted to her. 'The last I heard, she was aching to get a result after Rob messed up a raid this morning.'
Nodding, Eva said, 'The way she put it, she was trying to claw back some self-respect by lying to Manson that she'd got authorisation from Trident to proceed without their involvement.'
'I thought it might be as bad as that,' Sheelagh said with a sigh. 'What happened with the case?'
'A man got shot on her obbo,' Eva explained. 'The father of the kid they were after. She'd persuaded him to grass on the lad from what I know but he showed up and was caught in the crossfire from a drive-by shooting.'
'Is she okay?' asked Sheelagh.
'Yeah, yeah, she's at the hospital with the father,' Eva said. 'Don't know about him yet but –'
She was broken off by shouting coming from the duty solicitor's office. After a moment the Super stormed out, telling Eva to re-interview Denise before stomping off along the corridor.
Eva shifted uncomfortably. 'Guess I'm interviewing Mrs Okaro again then.'
Denise was back in interview with Eva and the pastor was waiting in a cell while Sheelagh ran through the custody logs and resisted the urge to call the childminder. These periodic lulls in activity down here were usually welcome but Sheelagh found her mind drifting to Sam and her efforts to 'claw back some self-respect'. Whatever had happened on that case, she was struck with an almost visceral urge to know that she was okay. However, things were different in CID now. She couldn't nip up to her private office on a pretext. It wasn't until today she realised quite how different their working relationship would be now that Sam was no longer DI. She couldn't go anywhere near DI Manson as Sam's friend; she needed to keep it professional.
'Hey,' a voice said softly.
Lifting her head up sharply, Sheelagh found Sam in front of her. Just one look at her face confirmed all that Eva had said and she immediately dropped her pen and leaned over the desk, squeezing her arm.
'How's your fella doing?' she asked.
Sam managed a small smile. 'Grapevine in full working order, I see.'
'Not really,' Sheelagh answered. 'Eva was worried about you. Are you okay?'
'Yeah, I'm...' Sighing, Sam's shoulders slumped and she shook her head. 'I was desperate for the result, Sheelagh. I pushed him to shop his own son. I mean, of course he was gonna show up there to try and help, of course he was. The DI's crowing because we got a haul of converted pistols but that's not the point. A human being isn't collateral damage. Shouldn't be,' she corrected, resting her arms on the desk. 'They shouldn't be.'
Sheelagh bit her lip. 'Is he...'
'He'll pull through,' Sam said when she trailed off. 'No thanks to me. He trusted me and I let him down, just to prove a point to the DI.'
'Is that what it was?' Sheelagh questioned quietly.
Sam looked up and surveyed her face. 'No,' she admitted. 'I wanted to prove to myself that the Super was wrong and I even screwed that up. I was watching him bleed on the pavement, trying to stem the flow with my scarf,' she murmured, scrunching her fingers together, 'and all I could think was that I caused it. I actually pleaded with him, I begged him to shop his own son. Would I do that with Abi? No,' she went on, 'I'd do whatever I could to protect her. I should've known he'd show up like that, I should've known.'
'Darling, you need to stop doing this to yourself,' insisted Sheelagh.
Brow crumpled, Sam seemed to waver on the spot then she blinked and straightened herself up. 'You don't need my troubles.'
Sheelagh grasped her arm. 'Hang on –'
'You don't,' Sam interrupted. 'I'll be fine. I just need to get back to work, that's all.'
Watching her go, Sheelagh marvelled at the speed the shutters had slammed down. Perhaps she thought that sharing her difficulties with the new DI was burdening her but that was far from the case. She wanted to know; she wanted to listen and Sam had sought her out, obviously wanting to talk to her. But Sam had her own ideas and, really, after the day she'd apparently had, Sheelagh could let her be. At some point, though, they'd have to talk about her determination to stay in Sun Hill. After the latest problems with DI Manson, Sheelagh was beginning to think it was completely untenable. That made her stomach flip but it didn't make it any less of a reality. To be a good friend to somebody, sometimes you had to let them go.
For the rest of the shift she was preoccupied with that possibility and the yearning to see Niamh after a long day away. She was happy to clock off custody, rushing to the changing room and ignoring all the chat of her fellow officers to swiftly change into her civvies. It was only a few minutes before she was on her way out of the station, though Eva fell into step as she walked along the corridor.
'Why does every day in this place feel like a marathon these days?' Eva queried.
Sheelagh chuckled. 'Oh, I think you know the answer to that as well as I do.'
'Mmm,' agreed Eva then she inhaled deeply. 'I don't know how much more of this Samantha can take. How can you work for someone you can't trust?'
'How can you?' Sheelagh shot back, eager to deflect. 'It's not just Sam on the line up there.'
'No,' Eva conceded, 'but she's got more to prove. Keep an eye on her, yeah, Sheelagh?'
'I'm trying,' she said with a wry smile.
Perhaps sensing she didn't want to pursue that train of thought, Eva asked, 'And how are things at home?'
Sheelagh gratefully recounted the bare facts – Patrick wanted to see her tomorrow, Niamh was gorgeous and completely worth all the trouble. As Eva smiled and disappeared to her car, Sheelagh couldn't help but reflect on how true that was as she began the walk further down the road to where she was parked.
Then her eyes caught on something in the shadows across the road. The figure was familiar, too familiar, but the sensation that would've been desire just a few months ago was submerged underneath a layer of dread.
It was Des. She was sure of it.
