If Sheelagh closed her eyes she could just about recall the last time she'd felt truly at peace.
Logic suggested it should've been at that dinner with Patrick. She remembered sitting across from him in the restaurant as though it was a memory from another life. Perhaps it was. He'd been his usual self, the man she fell in love with all those years ago, and he'd been completely honest with her. He knew it'd be hard, he said, but life without her wasn't life. Their family was meant to be together, as long as she was comfortable with that. He'd said all the right things and she knew she should melt into his arms. It should've been all she wanted, to have her family reassembled at a stroke like that, but she'd hesitated. The flicker of disappointment on his face lived with her longer than any desire to take him up on the offer and if she'd had time to dwell on that guilt, she suspected she would've capitulated for the sake of the kids. However, she hadn't.
No, the last time she thought she'd been truly content had been during bath time with Niamh and Sam, watching her daughter gleefully soak her through and Sam enjoying every moment of it. They'd almost been a little family that evening, just the same as they had been on New Year's Eve. It was funny, all her treasured memories of Niamh were related to Sam and she knew that she was the only person who missed her as much as she did. When the fog of grief occasionally cleared, she was astounded by how wonderful Sam had been in the last few months. No one at the nick would be able to comprehend how brilliant she'd been. It wasn't that it surprised Sheelagh, just that she appreciated it more than she could say.
Her mind constantly replayed that night – the way she'd rushed upstairs to find Cameron and a paramedic trying to resuscitate Niamh, the tortuous trip in the ambulance and the long wait to hear the news that she knew in her heart was coming. After that, everything went dark for a while. The next thing she was aware of, Sam was there holding her and the whole situation crumpled down upon her head. Without Sam, she wouldn't have made it through that night. She would've just sat there blank until the world ended; she simply wasn't capable of doing anything else.
Even the knowledge that Niamh's death was inevitable offered little comfort. There might have been a physical explanation but that didn't discredit the very real sensation that she was being punished, Des too. She deserved to feel pain for what she'd done to her family and Des deserved punishment for his crimes but this was too much, too cruel. Niamh was innocent, helpless. Any sins of her parents weren't hers, she shouldn't have been punished for them. Most of the time Sheelagh managed to convince herself that it was a tragic set of circumstances but her faith shook that resolve. Then again, her faith was wavering itself. Getting tied into those knots of confusion didn't help her mind and it was one of the reasons that she was keen to get back to work to keep herself occupied.
Another reason was, bizarrely, a desire to be close to Sam. Perhaps it stemmed from the fact that she was the only person who understood how she felt and was, really, the only person making a concerted effort to understand. Yet she was going about it in a way that no one else at the nick would appreciate. She wasn't pushing her, wasn't steaming around trying to fix things; no, she was being delicate and sensitive at every step. Sheelagh got the impression that every time Sam asked her a question it was a last resort, something she couldn't answer just by observation and intuition. For the most part, those skills were paying off. Sam seemed one step ahead of her thoughts, as if she could read her mind, and Sheelagh derived strength from that. Being near her in the station, whether they saw each other or not, was preferable to being at home where, if the boys were around, they were quiet and detached. Thinking of the bridges she had to build with her remaining kids terrified her, almost as much as the grief of losing Niamh overwhelmed her sometimes. They were both things she had to face but she was grateful she didn't have to face them alone.
Since Cameron had been found safe and well, she was feeling marginally better. She wouldn't have been able to bear it if he became collateral damage thanks to her mistake of fathering a child with Des Taviner and at least she could wipe that off her conscience now but the day was starting to drag. Gina might have reluctantly allowed her back to work but she was stuck on custody for the most part and dealing with the unsubtle stares of her colleagues was draining. She wanted to be back at work but she didn't want the trouble that came along with it.
When she was finally relieved on custody, she returned to her office via the coffee machine. The late nights were beginning to tell on her old bones and she closed her eyes while she was waiting for it to dispense.
'Sheelagh, nice to see you back.'
She stiffened and opened her eyes, expecting that the expression on DI Manson's face would irritate her beyond belief and not being disappointed. It wasn't only Sam's dislike for him prompting her own these days; she'd had first-hand experience of his attitude following Niamh's death and she hadn't been impressed.
'Good evening, Sir,' she said politely, willing the coffee machine to work a little faster.
'How are you settling back in?' he questioned.
'Fine, thank you,' she answered. As her coffee bubbled to the rim of its cup, she gratefully tugged it out of the machine and turned around. She'd thought he was waiting to get a drink himself and she hadn't expected him to block her path. 'Is there something I can help you with, Sir?'
'I suppose it's easier, isn't it?' He slipped his hands into his pockets. 'Being back at work when Samantha is.'
'I'm sorry?' she queried. It might have been the truth but, as far as she was aware, he had no right to be drawing attention to it. The only reason he could be doing so was for some malicious dig at Sam, there was no other explanation.
'Well, you know,' he said conversationally, 'if you were –'
'Sheelagh,' Gina cut in, 'can I see you in my office?'
Manson's face twitched with irritation but he simply smiled and glided away up the stairs. Slowly, Sheelagh turned to Gina, perturbed to see her friend and superior looking anxious, panicked even. Gina usually managed to mask such things and her first thought was that something terrible had happened.
'What's wrong?' she questioned.
'Hmm?' Gina's eyes had been focused on the staircase and she looked back with effort. 'How are you coping?'
'Fine,' she said. 'Is that what you wanted? To ask if I'm okay?'
Gina motioned her along to her office and closed the door once they were inside. There was something strange about her attitude, though Sheelagh couldn't put her finger on it. She took the seat Gina nodded to and watched the inspector prowl around.
'What did the DI want?' Gina asked finally.
'He was just making conversation,' Sheelagh said with a shrug.
'I heard him mention Sam,' persisted Gina.
'That was nothing,' she answered. 'I think he was...stirring.'
'Stirring?' Gina repeated. 'What did he say?'
Frowning, Sheelagh laced her fingers together. 'It was something and nothing. He said it was easier for me to be back at work when Samantha is. He's not wrong,' she added, 'but I can't think why he'd point it out.'
Gina swallowed and smiled wanly. 'You're right, he's just stirring.'
'But why?' Sheelagh questioned. 'I don't understand.'
'Well,' returned Gina after too lengthy a pause, 'you know how things are upstairs. He wants to make Sam's life difficult and winding you up's a perfect way of doing that.'
'Why would saying that wind me up?' she asked.
Crossing her arms, Gina replied, 'Don't ask me.'
'I think I just did,' she pointed out.
It wasn't often that Gina Gold seemed to lose her composure, especially over something as seemingly insignificant as a bizarre conversation with DI Manson. Sheelagh was confused but, then, perhaps there was something else here that she was unaware of.
'Gina?' she pressed quietly. 'What's going on?'
'It's nothing you need...' Trailing off, Gina retreated to her chair and knitted her hands together on the desktop. There was a look in her eyes that Sheelagh was unfamiliar with and couldn't place. 'I think you should –'
The door burst open without a knock and they both jumped out of their skin. Sheelagh twisted around and was surprised to see Sam stood there, breathless and red in the face. It looked as though she'd been running.
'Hi,' she said, looking between them rapidly. 'Everything okay in here?'
Sheelagh glanced across to Gina but found her studiously avoiding her gaze. Turning back to Sam, she questioned, 'Why do I get the feeling I'm missing something?'
'I just saw the DI,' Sam explained. 'He mentioned he'd seen you and I trust him like a...cobra on steroids.'
The image made her chuckle and she saw the tension in Sam's shoulders ease.
'I wanted to make sure he hadn't upset you,' continued Sam, the sincerity in her voice unmistakable. Sheelagh's radar was spot-on when it came to that and nothing she'd said was ringing any alarm bells. 'He didn't, did he?' she queried.
'No,' Sheelagh replied, 'he didn't. I should get back to work,' she added, rising. 'I'll meet you out front after the shift?'
Sam smiled, stepping aside to let her past. 'I'll look forward to it.'
To her surprise, while she crossed the corridor to the Sergeants' Office, Sam slipped inside Gina's office and closed the door. Sheelagh stood motionless for a few seconds, watching the pair of them through the blinds and seeing Gina remonstrating with Sam. She wished she was a fly on the wall but, then, if it was anything really important, she was sure Sam would talk to her and not Gina. She was probably just flying off the handle about the DI stirring and trying to keep Sheelagh clear of it. More of that delicate sensitivity and it brought a smile to her face as she shut the door.
With a little caffeine inside her and paperwork to drown in, the rest of the shift passed pretty quickly. Before she knew it, she was getting changed and feeling a little more herself. That was swiftly followed by a wave of guilt and by the time she left the locker room she was confused about whether she was betraying Niamh's memory by forgetting her for a few seconds.
The conflict must've shown on her face when she walked out of the front office. Sam was leaning against a lamppost waiting but pushed off as soon as she appeared and moved to meet her. However, instead of asking her a single question, she just indicated towards the car park and Sheelagh fell into step beside her. They didn't speak until they were snug inside the car, the heater warming them through.
As Sam turned the key in the ignition, Sheelagh reached across and rested a hand on her arm. 'Are you busy tonight?'
Sam glanced sideways, shaking her head. 'Why?'
'I don't fancy going home,' she admitted. 'Declan's at football practice and the house is...'
'How about a bite to eat?' Sam suggested when she trailed off. 'Abi won't mind if I'm a bit late, she's used to it. Gives her chance to use all the hot water.'
Sheelagh smiled, recognising that the way Sam was nervously nibbling on her lower lip was drawing her towards an idea she was already inclined to accept. 'Okay, you talked me into it.'
Turning her attention back to the road, Sam said, 'I know the perfect place.'
Twenty minutes later Sheelagh found herself in a quiet corner of a bar she'd never been in before. It was suspiciously quiet, though the smells drifting from the kitchen along with the decor implied they should have a queue a mile long. Sheelagh ordered the salmon and a glass of white wine and watched Sam order some rather ambitious salad dish, balancing out any health benefit with her own glass of wine.
'Thanks, Barry,' Sam said as the waiter took their menus.
Raising an eyebrow, Sheelagh said, 'You're very familiar with this place.'
Sam shrugged. 'I raided it a few months ago.'
'And that's a recommendation?' Sheelagh queried.
'Actually, yes,' Sam replied with a grin. 'You see, the head chef grassed on the owner. He was running a brothel in the cellar and the chef didn't like it. He thought it impeded his artistic integrity, having to ask the hookers to bring him up the potatoes.'
Sheelagh stared at her. 'You're making this up.'
'I'm not, I'm not,' said Sam, 'I promise. Look, he came to us and gave us everything we needed to nail him. When the place went on the market, he put in a consortium bid and he finally gets to run his kitchen his way. Less red lights, more soufflés.'
Letting out a laugh, Sheelagh leaned back in her chair and felt the same sense of calm she'd experienced earlier in the locker room. That was followed by the same slither of guilt and she buried her eyes in the red tablecloth until the waiter delivered their drinks. She picked up her glass before it hit the table and took a long gulp. When she raised her chin again, she found Sam watching her with that old wisdom on her face.
'It's okay, you know,' Sam said softly.
Sheelagh inhaled deeply and murmured, 'I know.'
They lapsed into silence but it was like so many of their silences – comfortable and full of words that didn't need saying aloud. Stretching across the table, Sheelagh scooped Sam's fingers into her own, holding them for longer than was necessary but unwilling to let go. They stayed like that until the food arrived and then Sam cleared her throat and withdrew, a little embarrassed. Sheelagh smiled at the familiar sight of her blush and, this time, didn't feel guilty about it.
Following one bite of her salmon, she looked up in surprise. 'This is gorgeous.'
'That's probably the wine sauce,' Sam returned. 'Lucky you're not driving.'
'You make me sound like an old lush,' Sheelagh said. Raising a hand, she warned, 'Don't.'
'Don't what?' queried Sam innocently. 'You're paranoid.'
With a chuckle, she tucked into her food and found herself enjoying a meal for the first time in recent memory. Every few minutes she had to remind herself that it was okay to feel like that, glancing across the table and meeting Sam's eye to confirm it. Being comfortable like this together was all right; actually, perhaps Sam was the only person she could truly be comfortable with at the moment. They both missed Niamh, they both loved her like no one else did. It was something they shared, like all the secrets and quirks but a much stronger tie.
'What's the verdict?' Sam questioned when their plates were clear.
'Good work on the raid,' she answered. 'Did I see a dessert menu somewhere?'
Yanking it out from behind the condiments, Sam handed it over. 'I recommend the cheesecake. Or the crème brulee. Or the sorbet.'
Sheelagh's lips twitched as she scanned the list. 'There, you gave me too many options. I can't decide.'
'We'll get all three,' said Sam, signalling to the waiter. 'I'm still really hungry actually.'
'You're not,' Sheelagh replied.
Sam shrugged and the waiter reached them before Sheelagh could protest. She watched as Sam ordered with a flourish, enjoying seeing her this relaxed and self-assured. In the last few weeks she'd been completely solid and, while Sheelagh appreciated it intensely, she'd barely seen her guard drop once. She missed feeling as though she had an inside track on DS Nixon, the kind of insight no one else would comprehend. As the waiter disappeared, Sheelagh leaned forward a touch, surprised to see the flicker of anxiety that crossed Sam's face. It was gone almost as soon as it appeared but she was certain she hadn't imagined it. Her intention had been to ask what the DI's problem was and why he was trying to stir up trouble between them but she quickly diverted from that. The only other topic that sprang immediately to mind was her shattered marriage.
'I'm not getting back with Patrick,' she said.
The words sprang out of her mouth before she was aware of making the decision and then she knew that it was her final choice. Even the poker-faced Samantha Nixon reacted with surprise, masking it poorly by sipping her water.
Finally, Sam asked, 'Are you sure?'
'Yeah,' she murmured. 'Yeah, I am. There's no turning the clock back. I can only go forward. That would've been the way with Niamh and that's how it has to be now. I can't change it,' she added. 'Patrick knows that deep down.'
Sam absorbed that slowly. 'What about the kids?'
'What am I meant to do, hmm?' Sheelagh returned. 'Things weren't right with me and Patrick, they can't have been. I plaster over the cracks and what then? Three years down the line when they've all left home and it's just me and him and there's nothing... I don't love him, not like I should.'
There was a long pause and then Sam questioned softly, 'Do you wish you did?'
Sheelagh tilted her head to the side and smiled faintly. 'No. That part of my life is over. But I can't see what happens next,' she admitted. 'Every time I'm in that house I keep replaying it. I can't get it out of my head, I don't know what to do.' The expression on Sam's face was familiar – it was her copper's face, there was something on her mind. 'What?' Sheelagh queried.
Sam hesitated and indicated her empty glass. 'Do you want another drink?'
'Sure,' she replied.
Gesturing to the waiter, Sam ordered her another glass of wine then didn't speak until it arrived, electing instead to glance around the bar with her copper's eye on duty. Sheelagh half-wondered if she'd ignore what was apparently swirling around her mind and take the opportunity to distance herself but she didn't. While Sheelagh sipped her fresh glass of wine, she clasped her hands together on the tablecloth.
'I'm not trying to put ideas into your head,' she said, 'I'm just laying it out as an option.'
'Go on,' Sheelagh said, holding her gaze.
Sam cleared her throat and continued, 'If you're sure about you and Patrick, that there isn't any way back, then why don't you consider letting him have the house? You're not comfortable there, the kids would still have access to somewhere they're familiar with but you could straight afresh. Somewhere you could sleep would be a good start,' she added.
Sheelagh stared at her then, before she could say anything, the desserts arrived, all three of them. It seemed Sam was grateful for the interruption, pulling the mango sorbet towards her and scooping a spoonful into her mouth. Though she was slower to react, Sheelagh reached for the crème brulee and ate one half with more speed than she'd eaten anything in weeks. It took great restraint to slide the rest of the dish over towards Sam then both of them stretched for the cheesecake at the same time and their eyes met. With a mutual smile, their hands fell back.
'I think you're right,' Sheelagh told her. 'A new home, a fresh start. It just scares me, that's all.'
'Well, you're not alone,' Sam said. 'I'll give you all the help I can.'
Sheelagh bit her lip. 'Will you give me the cheesecake?'
Chuckling, Sam pushed it across and instead took the rest of the crème brulee. 'Be my guest.'
After eating exactly half of the cheesecake, Sheelagh offered it over to Sam and finished off the sorbet. Her mouth was tingling with the various flavours mingled with the wine and she settled back in her chair feeling physically better than she had in a while. From the way Sam glanced at her as she signalled for the bill, she suspected she read it in her face and that intimacy made her feel even more secure.
'If I did move,' she said after a moment, 'would it be like I was –'
'No,' Sam cut in.
Sheelagh shot her a quizzical look. 'How do you do that?'
Ignoring her, Sam said, 'You wouldn't be leaving her behind. You're not going to forget her, you'll never stop loving her. You'll think about her all the time, every day. But you have to hold on to...everything else,' she concluded with a pained smile.
Stretching across the table, Sheelagh squeezed her wrist. 'Listen, about the funeral –'
Sam shook her head. 'You don't have to –'
'Yes,' she interrupted firmly, 'I do.' When Sam's eyes dipped Sheelagh entwined their fingers. 'You've been phenomenal and I was completely out of line. Grief doesn't excuse it. There was no way in the world you would've betrayed me like that and I need to apologise.'
'Then you've apologised,' Sam answered. 'Can we forget about it now?'
'If you let me get the bill,' returned Sheelagh.
Sam clicked her tongue. 'Next time?'
Grinning, Sheelagh said, 'You're hopeless, you know.'
'I disagree,' replied Sam as she pulled out her purse and extracted her credit card. 'I'm just hoping to get another square meal in the diary.'
'How can I argue with that?' Sheelagh queried. 'When were you thinking?'
Sam didn't respond until she'd passed the waiter her credit card and he'd returned to the bar. Then she rested her elbows on the table and said, 'The DI reminded me today that I'm booked on a public relations course in Birmingham at the end of the week. Gleefully, I might add. So how about the night before? If I'm going to Birmingham, I'm going to need the incentive.'
'Sure,' said Sheelagh. 'It's a date.'
'Great,' Sam murmured as the waiter reappeared then she smiled up at him, almost flirtatiously. 'Thanks, Barry, I'll see you again.'
When they stepped out into the fresh air a few minutes later Sheelagh was startled by how cold it was. Ever-perceptive, Sam linked their arms together and they walked to the car together, Sheelagh briefly resting her head on Sam's shoulder as a wave of fatigue overtook her.
Sam loaded her into the passenger seat with an indulgent smile on her face. 'You're either exhausted or drunk.'
'No,' she argued quietly, 'I'm...'
She trailed off and Sam blinked. Then she closed the car door on her and walked around to the driver's side. As she started the engine, Sheelagh leaned forward and put the CD player on. The song that drifted through the speakers was one she didn't recognise; undeniably ABBA but unfamiliar. The lyrics swirled around the car as they drove and Sheelagh looked over a few times, surprised to see Sam rigid in the driver's seat.
'I haven't heard this before,' Sheelagh said and Sam nearly jumped through the roof. 'I didn't mean to startle you.'
'I like it,' Sam returned, though Sheelagh wasn't sure what it was in response to.
"I'm not a coward,
Oh, no, I'll be strong,
One chance in a lifetime,
Yes, I will take it,
It can't go wrong..."
'You couldn't have picked a more appropriate song if you tried,' remarked Sheelagh as the track ended. 'Do you think I'm doing the right thing?'
Sam glanced sideways. 'I can't answer that.'
'You can,' Sheelagh persisted. 'I trust you to tell me the truth.'
Swallowing, Sam said, 'My gut tells me that you don't belong with Patrick.'
'Mine too,' she said quietly. 'I don't feel sad; I feel like I should.'
Without looking over, Sam reached across and squeezed her hand. 'You've got enough on your mind. Don't over-think it.'
Sheelagh chucked and queried, 'Is that serious advice, coming from you?'
'Coming from years of experience,' Sam retorted. 'Shut up and listen to me.'
By the time they reached the house Sheelagh was pleasantly drowsy. She looked at the darkness of the living room and felt an irrepressible rush of relief at the decision she'd made this evening. After unbuckling her seatbelt, she turned and hugged Sam.
'Thank you,' she whispered.
Sam let out a little laugh that tickled her earlobe. 'I didn't do anything.'
Withdrawing, Sheelagh kissed her cheek and brushed her thumb over it. 'You're a liar, DS Nixon.'
'Guilty,' Sam conceded then seemed to take a steadying breath. 'Go on, you need to sleep.'
Sheelagh nodded and slipped out of the car, fumbling for the keys in her bag as she reached the pavement. Of course, the car lingered as she walked up the path and, of course, it didn't drive away until she was safely in the house.
Resting her head back against the door, she contemplated moving. It sounded like such a big change but, really, it was the only course of action. She just had to hope Patrick agreed to it. The next time they had dinner she owed Sam a large glass of wine on top of a wonderful dinner. In the meantime, she really needed to collapse on the sofa.
It might have been exhaustion kicking in but Sheelagh suspected it was something far more fundamental that meant she slept better than she had since that horrible night. She wouldn't say she felt refreshed but she felt better now she had a plan and her first act of the morning was to text Patrick and ask if they could meet for a drink after work. His instantaneous response suggested it wasn't going to be as easy to let him down as she might've hoped but it didn't dampen her resolve. After showering, she forced herself to eat more breakfast than she had recently and set off to work.
At the nick she got changed and was just going along to her office when Gina stepped in front of her. For a moment Sheelagh felt like a barcode as she was looked up and down and her confusion must've shown.
'I'm sorry,' Gina said, 'I was wondering where to assign you today, that's all.'
'What's the verdict?' she queried, almost dreading the answer.
'Tony needs a partner in the area car,' returned Gina. 'If you think you're up to it.'
'Yes, Ma'am,' she said with a smile. 'Thank you.'
A day out with Tony was just what she needed and, though it had seemed like an on-the-spot decision from Gina at the time, Sheelagh knew it was anything but. Tony was the perfect partner, not someone she had to keep in check but a seasoned copper who could keep an eye on her if necessary. In no way was it accidental that Gina had paired them together and she appreciated the delicate care from her superior officer and friend.
Most of the relief became tied up in the difficult case of a missing child. As they patrolled around the Jasmine Allen Estate, she and Tony kept an ear on what was going on as it came over the radio, though it took on a darker gloss when a paedophile was implicated. Sheelagh knew from listening to snippets as they took a few petty criminals into the nick that Sam was involved in the case then, finally, Gina reassigned Tony to help with that and put Sheelagh on CAD for the remainder of the shift.
Thanks to the case and the fact that she had to be off to meet Patrick, Sheelagh didn't get a chance to see Sam before she left, even if she would've liked to. Perhaps it was best though. She knew Sam was already a little anxious that she'd implanted a silly idea into her head and maybe it was better to get it over with without further discussion.
When she reached the pub, Patrick was already waiting with a pint for himself and a glass of wine for her. The familiar sight of his warm smile almost made her waver but she steeled herself before she sat down opposite him. Any residual hope slipped from his face and he buried his eyes momentarily into his drink.
'I thought it'd be a yes,' he muttered when he looked up.
'So did I for a while,' she admitted.
'I don't understand,' he said. 'Why wouldn't you want things back to normal? We've been together for twenty four years nearly, Sheelagh. We've got three children, we've got a life together. We can get it all back.'
'We can't though,' she replied sadly. 'Whatever I did, it wasn't out of the blue. Sure, I might've been attracted to Des but he isn't the first man I've fancied over the years. That I followed through on it... That says as much about us as it does about me and him.'
'Do you still love him?' Patrick questioned. 'Is that it?'
'No,' she said. She didn't want to delve into the finer details of her relationship with Des, not when she'd come to the conclusion that she couldn't have loved him in the first place. Telling Patrick that would complicate things and, really, that was something only Sam with her experience of Glenn could comprehend. 'It wouldn't have worked with me and Des, whatever else had happened.'
'You were going to run away with him a few days ago,' he pointed out. 'Don't tell me it didn't cross your mind for a minute, even if it was a trap.'
She drummed her fingers on her glass then took a sip of wine. 'Of course it did. I'm all over the place, you know that. Who wouldn't be? I wanted to escape from all this but I wouldn't really have done it, I couldn't.'
'Are you sure about that?' he pressed.
'Yes,' she said, aware that her certainty came from someone else's. 'But it's beside the point anyway. All this has happened, there's no changing that.'
Crossing his arms, he said, 'We could deal with it. I've been speaking to Father –'
'Don't,' she interrupted. 'You won't talk me round that way.'
'Your faith used to be important to you,' Patrick answered.
'That was before God took my daughter,' she replied, a little more harshly than she'd intended. 'Look,' she continued after a moment, 'I don't know what I believe anymore. All I can do is follow my heart. We can't get past this, we can't pretend it didn't happen. I don't want to,' she added. 'I don't even wish I did.'
Patrick rubbed his forehead. 'I'm not asking you to forget Niamh.'
'That's not what I mean,' she said. After taking another gulp of wine, she gazed at him sadly then went on, 'I'm not the person I was. You can't tell me that you haven't noticed that. It's not just the affair, is it?'
'No,' he conceded, though it obviously pained him. 'You haven't been the same since you started at Sun Hill, since you became a sergeant. It's like it changed you.'
Leaning back in her seat, Sheelagh swallowed. 'I'm not sure it was the job.'
'What then?' he questioned. 'I don't understand, help me understand.'
'I can't,' she said. 'I just...feel different now. And that's why we can't go back. I'd be hiding,' she admitted, 'and it'd be unfair to all of us. The kids don't deserve that, they need some stability now.'
'They want their parents together,' he argued.
'They've coped,' she said with a shrug. 'This happens to families every day and –'
'Don't try and excuse it,' he cut in. 'Don't try and wash it away as a fact of life. When I married you, Sheelagh, I meant my vows. I'm not giving up on them. I don't want a divorce. Marriage is for life, you know –'
'Stop,' she interrupted. As he fell back in his seat, she saw her tone had affected him in much the same way as it affected the boys and that he'd grasped her seriousness. Maintaining that tone, she said, 'I know this is a lot to take in but there's something else I needed to talk to you about.'
Wrapping his hands around his glass, he muttered, 'Go on.'
'I want to give you the house back,' she explained. 'I can't live there but I know the kids still think of it as home. I don't want to take that away from them.'
Patrick inhaled deeply. 'It makes sense, I suppose.'
'You'll think about it?' Sheelagh queried.
'Sure,' he replied. 'Along with the rest of it.'
She drained her glass and stood. 'The rest of it isn't negotiable, Patrick,' she warned. 'You can't talk me round and you're above using the kids to do it. I know that.'
Grudgingly, he nodded and she decided to cut her losses and get out of there. On reflection, the meeting had gone as well as it was likely to under the circumstances. She knew how much Patrick wanted his family back together and she'd just shattered his hopes. It might've been the right thing to do but, given that he was willing to take her back after all she'd done, it was cruel. As she stepped out into the car park she suddenly realised where she was going and picked up speed.
She pulled up in the familiar suburban street and switched the engine off. Part of her wondered how the case with the little girl had gone and whether Sam wanted to be left alone but the allure of the living room light was irresistible. She locked the car and walked to the front door, knocking hesitantly at first then with a little more vigour.
When Sam opened the door the fatigue on her face was swiftly replaced by surprise. 'Hey,' she said, 'what are you doing here?'
'I just had a drink with Patrick,' Sheelagh replied.
'Ah...' Sam stepped aside and motioned her inside. 'I'll put the kettle on.'
It was only by being in a house that she was still comfortable in that Sheelagh realised quite how intolerable her home had become. She followed Sam into the kitchen and settled at the table, watching her make them a cup of tea and feeling her stomach uncoil at the sight.
'No Abi?' she asked as Sam sat down and pushed one mug across to her.
'At a friend's,' Sam answered. 'She sent me a text saying she couldn't stomach another frozen pizza and, to be fair, I agree with her.'
Sheelagh raised an eyebrow. 'So what did you eat?'
'How did it go with Patrick?' Sam shot back.
Rolling her eyes, she stood and moved to the cupboard. 'Do I have to do everything?'
Sam chuckled but let her get on with it. She found a jar of pasta sauce wedged at the back along with some pasta to go with it and set that cooking before she was finally ready to return to the table and her cup of tea. She appreciated the fact that Sam didn't press her on anything, instead appearing supremely interested in a week-old paper that was lying beside her.
'He didn't take it well,' Sheelagh said and Sam looked up instantly. 'I didn't expect him to,' she continued, 'it'll take some time for it to sink in.'
'And how are you feeling about it?' Sam questioned.
'Better than I should,' she said.
Stretching across the table, Sam rubbed her arm. 'What about the house? Did you talk to him about that?'
She nodded. 'I think he'll agree to that easier than the divorce.'
'You – you told him you want a divorce,' Sam murmured. Then she withdrew her hand and scratched her neck. 'That's pretty final.'
'And moving house isn't?' she returned with a tired smile. 'It's over. I've accepted it, he needs to do the same.'
Whatever thoughts Sam had on the matter, she kept them to herself, though Sheelagh could see the cogs working. Even so, Sam didn't succumb to the urge to pry as she rose to stir the pasta. When she came back, she didn't sit down, instead standing beside Sheelagh as leaned back against the table and cleared her throat.
'You've been really strong, you know,' she said. 'You've made a tough decision and you haven't let the grass grow, you've just got on with it. Don't underestimate how brave that is. I mean, I couldn't have done it,' she added. 'I couldn't have coped with any of this.'
Sheelagh smiled, feeling safe again. 'You know I only got through this because someone needs to make sure you look after yourself.'
Laughing, Sam replied, 'That's a full-time career move.'
'I'd better get on with it then,' she retorted. Standing, she squeezed Sam's shoulder as she moved to the cooker. 'Look at you, you can't even cook pasta.'
'I warned you never to let me cook for you,' Sam reminded her.
Sheelagh threw her an indulgent glance then questioned, 'Did you find the little girl?'
'We did,' answered Sam, 'thanks to Eva.'
'What happened?' she asked. 'The last I heard you were investigating a paedophile. Did he abduct her?'
Sam crossed the room, resting her elbows on the counter beside Sheelagh. 'No, that was Manson's little crusade. He saw the name of a paedophile in the local area and decided he had to be our man, despite the fact it was a completely different age group and MO. We ended up arresting him and a witness came forward, said she'd seen him enticing a kid into his car. Turned out to be a load of rubbish and she was just trying to get him locked up again.'
'People never fail to disgust me,' Sheelagh commented as she stirred the pasta. 'But you found her?'
'Eva worked out it was the grandfather,' Sam explained. 'He couldn't cope with kids, he pushed her to quieten her down and he thought she was dead. While we're out hunting for the little girl, she's locked up in his boot. Luckily, Eva and June got to her in time. It's not good but she's alive.'
'That's about as happy an ending as we ever get,' Sheelagh said.
'Yeah,' replied Sam softly.
Sheelagh glanced at her, sensing in her tone there was something else going on. However, she didn't probe just yet, finishing the pasta off under her watchful gaze and delivering two bowls to the table. They both settled down to eat and after a couple of mouthfuls Sheelagh broached the subject.
'What else happened?' she questioned.
Sam offered her a wry smile and jabbed her fork into her bowl. 'Manson's really on Eva's case,' she said. 'She got this brilliant result today and he'd said just enough to make her think he appreciated it. Then he ripped her apart in front of me, told her that her questioning had been weak from the start and that the whole situation could've been avoided.'
Sheelagh stared at her. 'You have to be kidding.'
'Nope,' Sam said. 'It completely threw her. There she was defending him to me and he pulls the rug out from under her. He couldn't have planned it better if he'd kidnapped the girl himself. I'm really worried about her, Sheelagh. He wants her out and I'm not sure there's any way around it.'
'I don't get it,' Sheelagh answered. 'One of the best detectives up there – present company excluded – and he wants her gone. It's counterproductive, surely.'
'Apparently not when you're on a power trip,' Sam returned. 'He's got Eva in the crosshairs and if I defend her that just makes him worse. I don't know how it'll end. Actually,' she amended, 'I do. She's at her limit, it's only a matter of time.'
Sighing, Sheelagh said, 'You can only be on her side, you know that. You need to watch your own back as well.'
'I don't care about the job, Sheelagh,' replied Sam. 'There are more important things in life.'
'I know,' she said, 'but I care about your job. So be careful, okay?'
'Promise,' Sam murmured. Then she coughed and turned her attention back to her cooling pasta.
It wasn't as extravagant as the meal they'd had the night before but Sheelagh enjoyed it just as much. It dimmed the memory of Patrick's devastated expression somewhat and she was startled when she checked her watch and found it was past nine.
'I should get home,' she said regretfully. 'Declan'll be wondering where I am.'
Sam stood up and gathered the bowls and cutlery together. After dumping them in the sink, she turned back and bit her lip. 'Are you okay?' she asked.
Sheelagh let out a small snort as she stepped forward to give Sam a hug. 'Compared to other days I've had recently, this was a breeze.'
'That doesn't mean much,' Sam said, squeezing hard then withdrawing and seeing her to the front door, leaning against the wall. 'Did I blow my chance of dinner tomorrow by letting you in my kitchen?'
'A square meal every day is my aim,' Sheelagh retorted. 'Until you can manage it for yourself...'
'I know,' said Sam, 'I'm hopeless.'
Chuckling, Sheelagh stepped across the threshold and felt the chill of the air immediately. She looked over her shoulder and pointed out, 'You said it.'
'Thought I'd save you the trouble,' Sam answered. 'Goodnight.'
'Goodnight,' she returned.
After tugging her jacket snug around her neck, she walked hastily to the car. Once inside, though, she lingered a moment until Sam had reluctantly slipped back into the house. Only then did she drive off in the direction of home.
Another night of relatively refreshing sleep followed then she was assigned to custody in the morning. That's where she was when Sam came in search of her. It wasn't accidental that she wandered down to meet her at a quiet moment; Sheelagh saw that immediately in the expression on her face.
'What is it?' she queried, rounding the custody desk.
Sam glanced along the corridor to check they were alone then leaned closer and muttered, 'An allegation's been made against Jack. Someone's claiming he fitted up a villain years back. Saying he ignored an alibi and let the man go down. This fella's out of prison and out for revenge.'
'That doesn't sound much like Jack,' Sheelagh remarked.
'You know that and I know that...'
'But the DI doesn't know that,' Sheelagh concluded for her.
'Precisely,' Sam said with a grim smile. 'He's instructed me to tell Jack a threat's been made against him but not the allegation that's part and parcel of it.'
Sheelagh eyed her shrewdly. 'What are you going to do?'
Exhaling, Sam slumped against the desk. 'I came down here for a second opinion.'
'Well,' said Sheelagh slowly, making sure that Sam met her gaze, 'I'd know where my loyalties lie.'
'Great minds,' Sam said. 'Thanks.'
'Keep me informed,' Sheelagh called as she moved towards the double doors, earning one of those little Sam Nixon smiles before she vanished.
A morning on custody was interesting, to say the least. There was a disturbance with a prisoner that resulted in an allegation being made against PC Hemmingway. It was rubbish, of course, since Yvonne was one of the most level-headed coppers on the relief but she had to investigate so the lad would stop bleating about it in interview and actually discuss the burglary he'd been arrested for.
She was halfway through filling in the copious amounts of paperwork the allegation entailed when Sam appeared again. Immediately, she dropped her pen and rested her arms on the desk.
'Going somewhere?' she questioned, noting the thick coat.
Sam shrugged. 'I've been told not to follow up on the alleged alibi, the one that Jack apparently ignored.'
'So where is it?' Sheelagh asked.
A grin spread over Sam's face as she answered, 'The marina.'
'Be careful,' Sheelagh told her.
'I will,' promised Sam. 'In the meantime, Eva's going to do some digging on the DI.'
Sheelagh raised an eyebrow. 'Is that wise?'
'Well, I told her to tread carefully,' Sam replied then grimaced. 'Look, I know it's dicey but Manson's out for Jack's blood. I don't understand it but if he nails him for this none of us are safe. Jack's the best guvnor I've had, I can't let him go down for this.'
'He's lucky to have you on his side,' Sheelagh commented.
'Remind me of that if this goes arse up,' Sam retorted before she smiled and left.
More than once during that afternoon, Sheelagh wondered what was going on with the investigation. Like Sam, she had unwavering trust in the DCI, coupled with inherent dislike for DI Manson. She knew that Jack had more allies at the station than Manson did and, hopefully, they'd come through for him. On a more selfish level, she hoped that Sam wouldn't get caught in the crossfire. The last thing Manson needed was more ammunition to get her and Eva out of here.
She was reassigned to CAD for the afternoon meaning that she was completely out of the loop as far as CID investigations went. It meant that she was more eager than ever for her shift to finish so she could have dinner with Sam and find out what on earth had happened since they last spoke. She'd made reservations at a little Greek restaurant she was fond of and was pleasantly surprised when Sam appeared in CAD at the precise moment her shift ended.
'I'm hungry,' she explained.
Sheelagh grinned as she disentangled herself from the headset. 'Give me five minutes to get changed and I'm all yours. I'll meet you out front.'
It was another chilly night with clear skies and stars glistening beyond the streetlights. Sam was waiting outside looking frozen through but her face lit up when Sheelagh appeared and they walked across to the car park together, drawing closer for warmth.
'Where are we going then?' Sam questioned, halting beside her own car.
'Little Greek place off the High Street,' Sheelagh answered. 'Do you know it?'
Sam nodded. 'Never tried it though.'
'You've missing out,' said Sheelagh. 'It's got a yard round the back for parking.'
Smiling, Sam slipped into her car and Sheelagh proceeded along to hers. Thanks to the traffic lights going against her, Sam got a head start and was sat reading a wedge of a document when Sheelagh knocked on the side window. Stowing it away, Sam got out of the car and locked the bag in the boot.
'Work?' Sheelagh queried as they walked around to the entrance.
'In a way,' Sam replied. 'Something I've been working on off and on for a while. I'll tell you about it sometime.'
That was cryptic but Sheelagh didn't mind. By the time they were seated she was feeling much the same as she had last night at Sam's house and in the bar the night before – safe and almost like herself again. The fact that Sam was going away for a few days to Birmingham would test how much of her strength came directly from having her around.
'So,' she said when they'd ordered and both had a glass of wine in their hands, 'what happened with the DCI?'
Sam leaned back comfortably. 'Well, I went to see the alleged alibi, the one Jack apparently ignored. He was adamant that Jack covered it up but the wife of the man convicted for the murder was parked up outside. Course, when I got back to the nick Manson had a go at me for following it up. He scented blood, whether it was a genuine allegation or not. Well, I went back to the marina and nearly ended up on the wrong side of a gun when the husband turned up. He was trying to kill the wife and the alibi, struck me as a bit odd. Turns out the alibi's prints were on the gun recovered at the marina, which was also the gun used in the original case.'
'Hardly a coincidence,' Sheelagh said. 'But I'm guessing the DI didn't see it like that?'
'He would've had Jack out of the service by now,' Sam answered. 'Luckily, I was in on the interviews with the lover and the wife. It was the wife who cracked – the lover committed the murder in the first place and they set the husband up. Jack was in the clear, he'd done nothing wrong.'
Sheelagh's lips twitched. 'I'm sure Manson was delighted.'
'Of course,' said Sam. 'I don't think he understands the concept of loyalty. If Jack had been guilty, we wouldn't have hushed it up but we weren't gonna go out of our way to stitch him up.'
'It's getting worse up there, isn't it?' Sheelagh observed.
Shrugging, Sam said, 'I can handle him.'
'I didn't say you couldn't,' she replied. 'But you shouldn't have to.'
'Well, I'm riding it out,' Sam said after a moment, burying her eyes into her glass. 'I don't give up that easily.'
Sheelagh recognised the unspoken reiteration that she wasn't staying at Sun Hill due to her career prospects and let it slide. Given the last few weeks, she really couldn't imagine her life without Samantha Nixon in it and she clung on selfishly to that – at least for now. As their starters arrived, they fell into a relaxed silence, Sheelagh delighted to see Sam enjoying the food as much as she was. It was a gorgeous little family restaurant that insisted on piling the plates high and by the time they'd finished the main course both of them were having difficulty. In fact, Sheelagh was struggling to keep her eyes open, much to Sam's amusement.
'My company's that riveting, is it?' she questioned.
Making an effort to sit up straighter, Sheelagh retorted, 'I'm glad you understand.'
'Cheeky,' Sam said with a grin.
'My treat, I'm allowed to be cheeky,' she returned. 'Do you want a dessert?'
Sam shook her head. 'Better not, I'm stuffed.'
'Same here,' Sheelagh said, motioning the waiter over and asking for the bill.
A few minutes later they were back out in the icy air and Sheelagh could feel the peace that had enveloped her in the restaurant slowly disintegrating. She didn't try to kid herself – she knew that it was the prospect of not having Sam's support for a few days that was getting to her. She'd grown so used to her being there that the idea she'd suddenly be miles away in Birmingham was a little disconcerting. Drawing to a halt beside her car, she fumbled with the keys and dropped them.
'I've got it,' Sam told her, crouching down to retrieve them and unlocking the car before she tucked them into her palm and closed her fingers around them. 'I'll be back before you know it.'
Though Sheelagh was startled by her insight, she tried to mask it by murmuring, 'You think a lot of yourself, DS Nixon.'
'Messiah complex,' she replied, leaning against the car. 'I'm only at the end of the phone.'
'I know,' Sheelagh said. 'You'll be grateful of the break I bet.'
'Course,' answered Sam lightly. 'I can't wait to get away.'
Chuckling, Sheelagh gave her a hug then, noting the shiver that passed through her body, drew back pointedly. 'You're freezing, go on.'
Sam held her gaze for a moment then nodded. 'Call me,' she said. 'If there's anything you need, call me, okay?'
'I will,' she promised. 'Enjoy Birmingham.'
'That's a contradiction if ever I heard one,' Sam said as she pushed off from the car and moved towards her own. 'I'll see you in a few days.'
Sheelagh went through the motions of getting behind the wheel, starting the engine and driving towards home but, really, her mind was elsewhere. The further Sam got in the opposite direction, the more unsettled she felt. It was as though she was losing her lifeline, as dramatic as that sounded, even in the privacy of her own mind.
She should've known that Sam wouldn't disappear entirely. She woke up to a text message saying she was on the M25 stuck in traffic with only ABBA to keep her company and the prospect of a mind-numbing course ahead of her. Sheelagh smiled as she read it then jotted off a response before slipping out of bed to shower and prepare for the day.
Today she was assigned to custody again, though it proved to be a less eventful posting than her last shift. Somehow, the knowledge that Sam wasn't going to appear around every corner made the day duller and that feeling wasn't helped by receiving a voicemail from Patrick saying that he'd bring the boys round tonight so they could talk to them about the housing situation. Knowing it had to be done didn't make it any easier and she spent much of the day dreading going home. However, that feeling was tempered by the periodic update texts she received from Sam which made her smile briefly whenever they popped up. It was enough to get her through the day at least.
Both Connor and Declan seemed to know it wasn't good news. They trudged into the house and sat down on the sofa with their arms crossed. For two boys so different in temperament they suddenly looked like the brothers they were and it pained her to know she'd brought this out in them. What she loved most about all her kids were how they kept her on her toes. This looked far too much like giving up for her liking.
'Well?' Connor prompted finally.
Sheelagh glanced at Patrick stood miserably by the window and reluctantly took the lead. 'I know you were hoping that me and your dad could patch things up but –'
'But you can't,' interrupted Connor coldly.
'Connor,' Patrick said, 'show a little respect to your mother.'
'Like she respected you?' he shot back. 'No wonder you don't want anything to do with her.'
Declan, usually the more vocal of the pair, shrank back into the sofa at that. He might've been here a lot lately but he hadn't said much during that time. She knew he was hurting but he'd done a very good job of keeping it to himself. That wasn't like him; Connor was the brooding one. It was something she should've challenged well before now but she'd been cowardly about it, like she'd been cowardly about so many things in the last year.
'We've talked it out,' said Patrick after a moment. 'We can't forget everything that's happened, it wouldn't be right for you and your sister. It's a joint decision.'
Looking at him, Sheelagh was more grateful than she could articulate. He simply inclined his head then moved to sit in the armchair. That was him taking possession of the house again and both the boys spotted it. Connor looked between them suspiciously.
'Are you selling the house?' he demanded.
'No,' Sheelagh answered. 'I've asked your dad if he'd like to move back here and I'll go somewhere else, somewhere nearby.'
'Why?' Declan queried softly.
She stepped forward and perched on the arm of the sofa, ruffling her hand through his short hair. 'Because I can't sleep here, darling. I keep thinking about what happened to Niamh and it hurts too much to cope with. I can't be here anymore.'
'I'm sorry,' he muttered. Looking up with a creased forehead, he added, 'I didn't want her to... I didn't say that, I'm sorry.'
Exhaling, she pulled him close. 'I know you didn't.'
'So when is all this happening?' Connor questioned sullenly.
'I need to talk to your mum about that,' Patrick said. 'How about you two go upstairs?'
Connor left the room with barely a glance in her direction but Declan stood up and hugged her for a long minute before disappearing. She heard their footsteps on the stairs and a door close then she steeled herself and looked back to Patrick.
'Thank you for doing that,' she said.
He shrugged. 'You made it clear there's no going back, I thought we might as well put on a united front. I don't want this to be harder than it has to be for any of us. I know you're grieving,' he went on, 'I won't make it worse for you. I'll have a word with Connor, he'll come round.'
'What about Siobhan?' she asked.
'I'll talk to her,' Patrick replied. 'She's trying hard to be grown-up, I think she needs to know it's okay to be upset.'
'You're right,' she said then she cleared her throat. 'Do you want to talk about the specifics now?'
Nodding, he said, 'Something's come up you might want to consider.'
By the time he left an hour later with the boys in tow Sheelagh was starting to feel a little overwhelmed. It was only natural that she should want to turn straight to Sam but she didn't want to intrude on her course. Instead, she wandered around the house, halting in the nursery and leaning against the door frame.
SOCO had returned all of Niamh's belongings via June Ackland and Siobhan had painstakingly put them back where they belonged. However, for the most part, Sheelagh had stayed out of this room since then, unable to deal with the crushing wave of grief that she was certain would hit. When it came it wasn't as acute as she thought it should be and that triggered a spasm of guilt. Was leaving here simply a way of making herself feel better? It shouldn't be about that.
She didn't know how long she stood there staring at the empty cot before the phone rang in the hallway. It jolted her back to reality and she padded down the stairs to answer it, wiping away the stray tears she hadn't realised had been congregating on her cheeks.
Picking it up, she murmured, 'Hello?'
'What's wrong?' Sam asked instantly.
If it had been anyone else on the other end of the phone, she would probably have been able to pull herself together and derail the inquisition. But this wasn't someone she needed to deal with and that realisation opened the floodgates again. Instead of trying to make it into the living room, she crumpled up at the bottom of the staircase and rested her head on the wall.
'I'm sorry,' she said softly.
'Don't apologise,' replied Sam. 'Take your time, I'm not going anywhere.'
'How's your course?' she questioned after a moment.
'Boring,' Sam said. 'The free lunch was edible though, that was a plus. You didn't respond to my last few messages,' she continued, 'I was worried.'
'I haven't seen them,' she admitted. 'Patrick came round with the boys to talk about the house and I've been in a daze since.'
'What happened?' queried Sam carefully and Sheelagh could picture the worry on her face. It was a sweet thought.
'He wants to move next week,' she said.
'Next week?' Sam repeated. Whoever was in the hotel room next door to her had probably just jumped out of their skin. 'Why the rush?'
'His short-term lease is up on the flat,' Sheelagh explained, 'and he's found a house that'd suit me.'
Sam was silent for a couple of seconds. 'Is he trying to call your bluff? Change your mind?'
'No, no, nothing like that,' she answered. 'I think he genuinely wants to get it over and done with as soon as possible.'
'Well, what did you say?' Sam asked.
'I agreed,' she said with a wince. 'I didn't want him or the boys thinking I was having second thoughts, I wanted to look like I know what I'm doing. I don't,' she added, 'I'm petrified.'
'Okay, okay,' said Sam, 'don't worry, we can sort this. Where's the house?'
'The nice estate near Canley Fields,' she replied. 'It belongs to one of his mates so he's got me a discount on the rent. The fella's daughter was living there but she's getting married. All he wants is someone paying the mortgage, he's not after a profit. I've landed on my feet really.'
'It means there's no pressure,' Sam said reasonably. 'It could be worse.'
'I know,' she said. 'I'm just...'
'Of course you are,' returned Sam when she trailed off. 'But, honestly, sweetheart, we can cope with it. As soon as I'm back in London we'll sit down and work it all out. Okay?'
'Okay,' she repeated softly.
Sam paused then questioned, 'Feel better?'
'Much,' she answered, startled by how true that was. 'How's the hotel?'
'Boring,' Sam said with a chuckle. 'I'm in bed with a book and a can of 7UP.'
'Not much of an expenses claim,' Sheelagh commented.
'I'll make up for it tomorrow, don't you worry.'
'Don't disappoint me,' said Sheelagh.
The laugh that trickled down the line felt as though it was at her shoulder. 'Wouldn't dream of it.'
Regretfully, Sheelagh laboured to her feet and drummed her fingers on the banister. 'I'll let you get back to your book. I might have a look through my wardrobe, chuck a few things out.'
'If you master that skill can you teach it to Abi?' Sam queried.
'If you make it worth my while,' she retorted. 'Night, Sam.'
'Night, Sheelagh,' she said, the smile more than evident in her voice.
Putting the phone back in its holder she glanced around the silent hallway and felt much calmer than she had just ten minutes earlier. It was going to be tough but it was going to be okay. She could see a way through it all now.
It was lucky she had the next day off work.
She awoke with a sense of purpose and, surveying the piles of clothes she'd separated out last night, packed those up first. Two bags were set aside for the charity shop while the rest went in suitcases. It didn't escape her notice that one of those suitcases was the one she'd packed up to take with her and Des and she stared at it for a long minute before moving on. Her next job was to choose which of the linen she wanted to take with her. She was content to leave most things behind, start afresh and leave the kids with their home intact. The more she looked around the house the less she wanted to take with her.
The amusing texts from Sam continued during the day, never mentioning anything serious but always with the implication that she was ready to talk at a moment's notice. Perhaps simply knowing that was one of the things that helped Sheelagh get through the day.
That night she'd eaten and was sat in the living room surrounded by videos and DVDs trying to decipher which belonged with Patrick and which she should take. In truth, she didn't have much time to watch anything but she wanted some with her, just for the memories they evoked.
The doorbell ringing surprised her. Aside from Sam, she didn't have many visitors these days and she went to answer it with a degree of trepidation tickling her spine. When she opened the door and found Eva on the doorstep that worry increased tenfold.
'Is everything okay?' she asked urgently. 'Is Sam –'
Eva held up a hand. 'There's nothing wrong,' she interrupted. 'I just wanted to talk to you, that's all.'
'I'm sorry,' Sheelagh said, stepping aside and leading her towards the kitchen, 'come in. Can I get you a drink? I've got wine in the fridge.'
'No, no, I've just had a few down at the nick,' Eva answered. 'Leaving do.'
Frowning, Sheelagh asked, 'Who's leaving?'
'Me,' said Eva with a grin.
She gaped at her. 'What?'
'You look like you need to sit down,' replied Eva, steering her into a chair then taking one herself. 'Listen, Sam knows nothing about this. I didn't want to ring her today when it was all going pear-shaped, I didn't wanna worry her. I know she'd feel guilty for encouraging me to dig into the DI's past but, honestly, I was as up for that as she was.'
'What happened?' Sheelagh questioned.
'Me and Jack uncovered some allegations about Manson's father-in-law, the DAC, using rent boys. Trouble is, I couldn't keep my mouth shut, could I? Manson managed to find some dirt on Jack and he blackmailed him – he'd keep quiet as long as I transferred. I had to take the fall for him,' she continued with a shrug. 'Luckily, he came through for me, him and Mickey. Instead of being transferred to some backwater they got me into MIT. Leave owing, I'm not going back to Sun Hill.'
It took Sheelagh a few moments to process all that then she managed to say, 'Congratulations. I mean, it's Sun Hill's loss but it's brilliant for you. I'm not sure I understand why you're here though,' she added, softening the effect of those words with a smile. 'You should be out celebrating.'
'Plenty of time for that,' Eva said. 'I hoped you could do me a favour. Two favours actually,' she amended, pulling an envelope out of her pocket. 'This is for Sam. I could've left it in internal mail but... Well, I reckon it might have more impact hand-delivered by you.'
'That's cryptic,' Sheelagh said as she took it. 'I'll make sure she gets it. What's the second thing?'
Sighing, Eva answered, 'I need you to look out for her, Sheelagh. Now Manson's got me out, she'll be next on the list, her and Debbie. You know what she's like,' she went on. 'Manson pushes her buttons and it's only a matter of time before she gives him an opportunity, if she hasn't already.'
Sheelagh tilted her head to the side. 'What do you mean? What has she done?'
'He thinks he's got ammunition,' Eva explained, looking a little uncomfortable. 'I mean, it's not inherently a bad thing, this...ammunition...but I think she thinks it is. You know, if she took the power out of his hands it wouldn't be a problem but she's not ready to do that.'
'You're not making much sense,' Sheelagh told her.
Eva managed a weak smile. 'Yeah, I don't suppose I am.'
For a minute Sheelagh stretched her mind a little. Then she said, 'I've thought for a while that there's something she's keeping from me. I wondered if it was something to do with Manson, if she was having more trouble than she was letting on.'
'It's part of it,' Eva said with a shrug. 'Maybe more a symptom than a cause though.'
'Could you be less cryptic?' Sheelagh questioned.
'I wish I could,' she answered. 'Give her time, yeah? She'll talk to you about it in the end, I'm sure.'
Something familiar tugged at Sheelagh's stomach and she recognised it as the jealousy she'd felt way back when Sam had been shutting her out about Glenn, when Eva was in the loop while she wasn't. It just seemed strange that she and Sam could be such good friends and yet for Eva to apparently know what was going on when she didn't.
'Is it that she doesn't want to burden me?' she asked after a moment.
Inclining her head, Eva replied, 'You know Sam. Always reckons she knows best, always tries to do the right thing. That's why she needs your support, Sheelagh.'
'Well, she's got it,' she said without hesitation.
'Don't be too hard on her,' Eva added as she rose. 'Honestly, you're the last person she'd wanna hurt and she thinks she's doing you a favour.'
'I won't push her,' Sheelagh said, seeing her to the front door. 'And I'll give her the letter.'
Eva stepped across the threshold then turned back, a wistful expression on her face. 'Tell her... Tell her life's too short. She'll understand.'
Sheelagh nodded slowly. 'Good luck at MIT.'
'Oh, I reckon that you poor sods at Sun Hill need more luck than me,' Eva said by way of a parting shot.
After watching her along the path, Sheelagh closed the door against the draught then stood in the quiet hallway trying to process all the information she'd been bombarded with in the last fifteen minutes.
The confirmation that something was bothering Sam was hardly revolutionary. She'd recognised it months ago but there was always a pressing problem, something to be dealt with, and Sam was adept at ignoring the issue. As hard as she'd tried, Sheelagh hadn't been able to guess what the problem might be. Sam's life could probably be condensed to a few important points including Abi and the job. There wasn't that much scope to choose from and, aside from Manson and the demotion, Sheelagh couldn't imagine what else was going on. But Eva had said the difficulties with Manson were a symptom and not the cause. What did that mean?
There was another option, she realised suddenly. Why hadn't it occurred to her before now? Children, work and love – those were the big issues in Sheelagh's life. Why wouldn't it be the same for Sam?
