If Sam had realised anything in the last few days it was that there was one thing worse than loving Sheelagh and not being able to have her. It was loving Sheelagh, knowing she loved her in return, yet being separated by something she didn't completely understand at one of the worst times of her life. She felt like she was falling apart – in every sense of the word – and the only person who could hold her together long enough to find Abi had been snatched from her. It was the universe's idea of a sick joke and she didn't even care about comprehending it – she just wanted Sheelagh back with her.
When she thought about that argument they'd had outside the house she was a little bemused. Thinking back, on the lengthy nights where she tried in vain to sleep with only the pyjamas Sheelagh had left in her bedroom for company, she couldn't believe they'd gone from the intimacy of waking up entangled to shouting at each other in the middle of the street in less than twelve hours. Yes, she recognised now that not telling Sheelagh the truth about her past with Hugh was a mistake but, really, she hadn't thought it'd be such an issue. It had concerned her more what Hugh would think about her relationship with Sheelagh and that was why she'd elected to keep them apart.
As a student, his opinions had mattered to her but, as she'd learned with the Kennedy investigation, she didn't need him half as much as she used to. She could see now that their divergence of tactics was actually something to be celebrated and, mainly thanks to Sheelagh, she'd realised that her methods of policing were enhanced by combining her profiling skills with her innate detective ones. Hugh would never be able to see that there was another method apart from the one he'd tried to drum into her all those years ago. The only reason she'd called him in to help on the suicide email had been because Manson had left her with no avenues for getting a legitimate language analysis done. She wouldn't have contacted him if she hadn't had to, although once he arrived she realised that another ally for their accomplice theory wouldn't go amiss. As a profiler, though, he'd naturally leaned more towards the abduction theory and she'd let him run with it. Any evidence they could compile to persuade the DI that Abi wasn't a runaway was welcome and, foolishly, she'd expected Sheelagh to accept that without comment – and without knowing everything about her and Hugh.
What had happened between them in the house that day was still a mystery. When she'd questioned Hugh afterwards, he'd been contrite, explaining that he'd mentioned their relationship in passing and Sheelagh had overreacted, although he didn't know why. That had been an opening for Sam to fill him in on exactly why Sheelagh was upset but she hadn't. Given that Sheelagh had just walked out on her, she needed his assistance and she didn't want to start a debate with him over her choice of partner when things were so up in the air. So, instead, she'd continued working on the profile and hoped that something would appear out of nowhere to fix the mess. Perhaps when Sheelagh had cooled down she'd come back and they could talk properly. That hadn't happened though, and by the time she'd persuaded Hugh to leave she found herself unable to countenance going grovelling herself. It was that cutting remark about being the woman people warned Sheelagh about that had left a scar. She thought it was unfair but she couldn't be sure. Ironically enough, she needed Sheelagh to tell her it was unfair and, since she wouldn't or couldn't, the idea festered.
The first night was the worst. Her hypothesis the day before that she couldn't sleep without Sheelagh by her side had proved agonisingly correct and she'd felt exhausted when she dragged herself out of bed the next morning. She was in no fit state to be going over information from the last few days but she tried to anyway, at least until Hugh arrived with lunch and coaxed her brain into gear with more profiling talk. They discussed everything they had but he was dismissive of the work she'd done with Sheelagh, saying it just showed typical distraction techniques and they should concentrate on the profile of an abductor. She wasn't sure she believed him about that but it was better to be working on something rather than nothing so she let him take the lead. She spent much of the next couple of days with him until she became aware that they weren't getting anywhere and, frustrated, she'd announced her intention to go back to work the next day.
Hugh had been startled by that. He'd commented that she wasn't going to get any support there but, in truth, her reasons for wanting to go back were less to do with Abi's disappearance and more about her estrangement with Sheelagh. At the moment they were locked in their separate boxes. Sam was far too apprehensive of rejection to risk turning up on Sheelagh's doorstep and the only way they were going to meet was by going into the nick and seeing her there. Of course, she hadn't been able to explain any of that to Hugh and he'd disappeared in something of a huff, irritated that she seemed to be conceding defeat. It wasn't that at all; she knew that without Sheelagh she was a walking mess. How could she find Abi while she was in this state? It wasn't simply about facts, it was about emotion and, to tap into that, she needed to look into Sheelagh's blue eyes and see the love there to keep her grounded. Funny, it hadn't occurred to her that the love might not exist anymore or have been nothing more than a mirage when a week ago that might've been her first conclusion. No, she'd felt too much of Sheelagh's love and desire to be anything less than certain that this blip, whatever it was, wasn't about mixed feelings. It was something else and, instinctively, she knew that jealousy over Hugh, Cavanaugh and Phil was more a symptom than a cause.
So, going into work this morning, she'd been hoping that she might get some clue about what was really going on in Sheelagh's head. Walking into the front office and finding her on the front desk had been ideal and alarming all in one. When Sheelagh had murmured her name she found the confirmation that she was missing their intimacy as much as she was and, maybe, they could've fixed it there and then if it hadn't been for the damn public getting in the way. She'd been reminded sharply that airing their dirty laundry in the middle of the station was a bad idea and had retreated upstairs, determined to work out a better way of fixing things.
That hadn't happened thanks to the video popping into her inbox to derail her completely. Seeing Abi again had shaken her to the core and, naturally, the one person she wanted to talk it over with was Sheelagh. But she was scared of asking her for help and being turned down. She didn't think she could handle that right now so she turned to Phil instead and, when he was still painfully sceptical, she had no choice but to call Hugh in again. At least he was a voice on her side, even if some of the things he was discussing were horrific to contemplate. She'd been thinking of this along the same lines as Sheelagh – runaway and accomplice gone wrong – but Hugh was filling her mind with spectres from her past and perverts who could've taken Abi to get back at her. For want of another theory right now, she threw herself into looking at her old cases but she was too emotionally exhausted to deal with the ramifications. She'd ended up literally crying on Phil's shoulder, all the while recognising it was Sheelagh she needed and not him. The fact that she didn't know what the hell had happened between them made that impossible and that made her cry all the harder.
When she saw Hugh out he'd insisted on coming round later and she didn't have the energy to fight the idea. At least if he was there she might feel like she was doing something. That's how she found herself sitting opposite him at the kitchen table listening to what sounded suspiciously like a lecture from the old days, even though she couldn't bring herself to pay full attention. The doorbell ringing surprised the pair of them and he hurried to answer it for her. She followed a little more slowly, idly hoping it might be Sheelagh, but it wasn't. It was the next best thing though.
'Can I help you?' Hugh asked politely.
Connor looked straight past him. 'Can I talk to you please?'
'Excuse me,' Hugh said, 'this isn't the time for a social call so if you –'
'Sam,' Connor cut in, 'this won't wait.'
Glancing over his shoulder, Hugh questioned, 'Do you know him?'
'This is Connor Murphy,' she replied. 'Hugh, give us a minute.'
His eyebrows contracted but he simply shrugged and stalked back into the living room. She urged Connor into the hallway and closed the door while he stood there switching feet and looking awkward. Two months ago, having Connor Murphy in her house was unthinkable and now here he was looking anxious but not angry. It didn't make sense but, then, nothing that had happened recently made much sense really.
'Is your mum okay?' she asked, her voice shaking.
'She doesn't know I'm here. I'm not trying to interfere but...' Sighing, he rubbed his neck in a way strangely reminiscent of his mother. 'Look, I've just spent an hour watching her cry and I can't take it anymore. I don't know what's happened between you, she wouldn't tell me. All she kept saying was that it's her fault and she wishes she could be here for you. She's distraught because she can't look after you. What the hell happened, Sam?'
As he talked she felt an electric current trickling through her body. The thought of Sheelagh crying was bad enough but the idea that it was because of her was more than she could take, never mind Connor. What they were arguing over didn't matter; what mattered was the fact that she loved Sheelagh absolutely and here they were suffering separately. Out of all the things that didn't make sense, that was the most nonsensical imaginable.
'Hugh?' she called over her shoulder. 'You've gotta go. I'm going out.'
He emerged from the living room with a frown on his face. 'Well, I'll wait here till you –'
'I'm not coming back,' she answered. 'Not tonight.'
'Hang on,' he said, 'you're in a real state yourself. You can't go running off just because some woman you know from work's a bit –'
'She's not some woman, Hugh,' Sam interjected, meeting Connor's gaze again and drawing strength from it. 'I love her and I've screwed up enough in my life without screwing this up as well. So, please, I need to go.'
His expression had darkened as she knew it would the second she explained what Sheelagh meant to her but, frankly, she didn't much care about his facts/emotion opinions right now. She'd wasted far too much time worrying about what he'd think when the only important thing was what Sheelagh felt. He didn't say a word as she showed him out and secured the house before ushering Connor towards her car. For the first time in days she felt as if she was doing the right thing and the sense of purpose filled her with a calm she'd missed since that morning round at Sheelagh's house. It was only fitting she was heading back there now to fix this mess.
As they drove, she glanced to Connor. 'In all honesty, I don't know what happened either. I should've come to see her before but I was scared. I already feel like I've lost Abi and I didn't want your mum turning me away as well, especially when I couldn't really explain why she was doing it. Don't suppose she gave you any clue, did she?'
'She was a bit mixed up,' he said with a shrug. 'All I really got out of her was that she hadn't realised how scared she was and she'd let it get the better of her. Maybe that makes more sense to you.'
Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as a few jigsaw pieces fell into place. She'd already surmised that the jealousy was a symptom rather than a cause and now she understood it completely. From the start she'd expected Sheelagh to struggle more with their relationship than she had but she'd expended so much energy on keeping Sam in one piece that, when something'd happened that had forced her to confront some of her own feelings, she'd imploded. It was no coincidence that it'd been triggered by learning that Sam had slept with Hugh all those years ago – what worried Sheelagh most was their relationship turning physical, however much she evidently wanted it to. That's why Sam's crude attempts to coax her into bed last week had erupted into that argument. While the logic was sound – this needed to be about them and not Abi's disappearance – there were other issues at play and at last Sam understood what they were.
When they reached the house she was hit by a wave of nerves but one look at Connor's earnest face warned her off running away again. She didn't underestimate how bad it must've been for him to come and find her when they'd only really seen other twice before without him radiating animosity in her direction. It was a son's love, she realised, and she should adhere to his wishes like she would've done well to adhere to Abi's all those months ago.
He patted her on the back as they walked up the path. 'You can do this.'
'You're definitely her son,' she said with a snort.
'Don't screw it up this time,' he warned, unlocking the door.
She didn't have a chance to respond to that before she found herself in the hallway and heard a chair being scraped back in the kitchen.
'Connor,' Sheelagh called, 'where on earth have you..?'
As she caught sight of her standing there, she trailed off and her body visibly rippled with anxiety. Sam scrutinised every inch of the familiar face, seeing the swollen cheeks and eyes that a bath hadn't washed away, and the wet hair swept across her forehead. No doubt Connor had insisted she go upstairs to relax in a bath while he put his little plan into action – another sign of how similar mother and son were. Now she was wearing a flannel dressing-gown with another one of those Disney nightshirts visible around the collar and Sam couldn't help but smile at the sight.
Connor looked between them then stepped over to kiss his mother's cheek. On his way back to the door he halted by Sam and kissed hers as well before reaching for the handle.
'I'll stay at Dad's tonight,' he explained. 'Goodnight.'
'Goodnight,' they murmured in unison then the door closed and left them in absolute silence staring at each other.
Given that she'd walked in here uninvited – at least uninvited by Sheelagh – Sam knew she should kick this off but she wasn't entirely sure how to begin. It'd been days since she'd been allowed to look at Sheelagh like this and all she wanted to do was skip the apologies and wrap her in her arms. Still, she knew they couldn't function with that kind of avoidance anymore. If they were going to make this work, they needed to start talking.
'You were right last week,' she began, apparently startling Sheelagh by breaking the silence. 'I mean when you said we had a lot of issues to work out. We've gotta be honest with each other and we can't keep putting conversations off until we get Abi back. I don't know when that's gonna happen and, you know, it might not.' When Sheelagh opened her mouth, she held up a hand. 'No, please, let me finish. Look, I was wrong not to tell you about Hugh. I know that now and I think I knew it then. I'm sorry, I won't try and defend it. We need to sit down and talk about everything that's bothering us, sooner rather than later.'
Sheelagh absorbed that then tried to speak again but Sam couldn't let her yet. She needed to get this out now she'd started.
'I understand now,' she continued quickly. 'That day in the park you said you were nervous too and I think I underestimated that. Maybe you did as well. You know, this is so new for me but I'm just scared that if we cross the line I'm gonna screw up and wreck this and hurt you. Then I lose you,' she added with a weak smile, 'and that scares me more than anything. I'm an idiot, Sheelagh, but I do love you and I am trying to do this right.'
After a few moments of watching her, Sheelagh queried, 'Can I speak now?'
She cleared her throat. 'Yeah.'
'Maybe we're both idiots,' Sheelagh said. Her anxious expression on first seeing her in the hallway had melted into the usual piercing affection that Sam had missed so intensely in recent days. 'You're right about why I... Well, I didn't understand it at the time and I thought I was fine but I was obviously wasn't.'
'Sweetheart, I'd be amazed if you were,' Sam replied. 'It's more my fault though. I knew it was an issue and I let it get buried under everything else. The fact is, it's taken us eighteen months to get to this point and I reckon the last thing we should do is push ourselves into something we might not be ready for.'
Sighing, Sheelagh questioned, 'But are we waiting or just avoiding it?'
Sam risked a step forward. 'I think this is where the talking comes in. At least then we'll be making informed decisions and we'll be making them together. That's what I want. And what I need,' she added, 'is you in my life. I mean, even if all we can ever be is friends who –'
She was broken off by Sheelagh sweeping forward and capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Reaching back for the wall, Sam steadied them both and deftly wrapped her other arm around Sheelagh's waist, savouring the kiss until they separated and she found her desire mirrored in Sheelagh's eyes.
'I do not want to be your friend,' insisted Sheelagh.
As if to punctuate the point, she kissed her again then her gaze flickered down Sam's body. Yeah, she'd experienced Sheelagh's desire before – during that massage, for instance – but this was completely naked lust and it made her body hum in response. Exhaling slowly, she entwined their hands and rested her head back against the wall.
'I don't wanna be your friend either,' she admitted.
Sheelagh laughed, a deep laugh that rippled through them both. 'Well, there, that's one thing we can agree on. We might be okay yet. Have you eaten?'
Grimacing, Sam questioned, 'Do I have to be honest about that?'
'I'm afraid so,' Sheelagh replied, pecking her on the lips then hesitating. 'I've got as much reason to be sorry as you, more so. With all you're going through, I should've been more understanding.'
'Sweetheart, I told you back when we started that I want this to be equal,' Sam said. 'What I'm going through doesn't matter. If you're worried or hurting then I need to know so I can help. Can we agree on that as well?'
Sheelagh caressed her cheek. 'Yes.'
'There,' Sam retuned, 'we're getting better every minute, aren't we?'
'Come on,' Sheelagh said with a smile, 'I'll warm us both up some casserole from the freezer.'
Sam followed her through into the kitchen, feeling more herself than she had since the last time she was in this house. Whatever had happened in the last couple of days had been brushed away, leaving in its wake the phenomenal amount of love she had for this woman. It petrified her that they'd nearly lost this because of a lack of communication and she resolved there and then not to let it happen again. While Sheelagh busied herself with warming up the casserole Sam poured them both a glass of wine and sat down at the table. By the time Sheelagh sat down with two bowls and a plate of bread she'd decided that the honesty needed to start right now.
'Talk to me,' Sam said simply. 'Ask me anything.'
Sheelagh glanced up sharply then her expression settled. 'Okay. How did Hugh react to Connor turning up on the doorstep tonight?'
'How did you know Hugh was there?' she asked.
'Because I was on my way to see you tonight and I saw his car,' Sheelagh explained. 'Phil told me you were upset and I couldn't bear it so...'
Sighing, Sam rested a hand on her arm. 'I didn't want him there, I wanted you. All week, I've needed you and I've been completely lost without you. Anyway,' she continued, 'to answer your question, he wasn't thrilled. And me turning around and telling him he had to leave because I needed to come be with the woman I love didn't impress him much either. But I don't care what he thinks,' she added when Sheelagh arched an eyebrow. 'Yes, I want to find Abi but I think we were doing a better job of that together, precisely because we were looking at every angle and not just the abduction theory. You were right about that. Besides, I value his professional opinion but he doesn't know Abi and he doesn't know me. I doubt if he ever really did.'
Sheelagh dipped a piece of bread into her bowl. 'Is that the truth or you flannelling me?'
'The truth,' she answered. 'Me and Hugh were an unmitigated disaster. I wasn't all that attracted to him, to be honest, and I didn't go into it for the right reasons. There's only two relationships in my life I've gone into for the right reasons,' she continued with a wry grin, 'and one of those backfired spectacularly.'
'Eat,' Sheelagh instructed after a moment then watched her silently comply for a minute or so. Finally, she said, 'When I saw you with Cavanaugh I didn't know what I was experiencing was jealousy. I hadn't liked him from the off though. Gina pointed out that she and I were the only ones who didn't fall in love at first sight. You probably spotted that when you introduced me to him, not that you were eager to do it.'
'No,' Sam admitted. 'It hadn't occurred to me we might see you on the way downstairs. It wasn't calculated, I wasn't trying to make a point.'
'I know,' Sheelagh said. 'That was plain from the horror on your face. But...what were you thinking?'
Sam couldn't help but chuckle. 'I wish I knew. Okay, okay,' she went on, recognising that wasn't an adequate response, 'I was flattered and I needed a distraction. He was a perfect ally against Manson and, let's face it, that's what would've motivated me before.'
'Did you fancy him?' asked Sheelagh, biting her lip.
'Yes,' she said softly, 'and no. I wanted to fancy him more than I did I think. Gina asked if I was trying to hide from the fact that I loved you but that wasn't it. You know, I'd already accepted that, it wasn't the problem. I conned myself into believing it was okay with Cavanaugh when I knew it wasn't. Like I told Eva, I'd betrayed you. Finding out that you'd seen us... Well, I hated myself for that. It wasn't my intention to hurt you, it never was.'
'I believe you,' Sheelagh replied quietly. 'You weren't exactly rubbing my nose in it. If I hadn't followed you out to the car park then I wouldn't have...' When Sam winced she squeezed her wrist. 'No, I knew something was going on and I needed to understand what – but I didn't understand it, not properly. Look, I hope I know the answer to this but when you and...'
As she trailed off and cringed, Sam rapidly caught up with her train of thought and immediately said, 'You're the only person who's ever been in that bed with me, I promise.'
Sheelagh exhaled. 'I thought so. I hoped so. How did you feel about what he was up to in the end?'
'Like I deserved it,' she said with a shrug. 'I did. It was my punishment for pushing you away and being such a coward. I'm only grateful you forgave me for it.'
'Well, how could I not?' Sheelagh returned. 'You turn up here in the middle of the night apologising and looking gorgeous – what was I supposed to do? Now, finish your casserole.'
Sam silently followed the order, unable to stop her gaze flicking to meet Sheelagh's every few seconds. Although all this talking was making her stomach squirm, she knew they'd feel better for it in the long run. Thinking about it, she had a couple of things of her own she wanted to raise if they were going for total honesty. They finished their food then Sheelagh refilled their wine glasses and suggested they relocate to the sofa.
It was with a certain degree of hesitation that Sam reached over as they sat down. The response was immediate; Sheelagh stretched one leg out and urged Sam to rest back in her arms. She couldn't contain the little sigh of relief as she felt hot breath against her ear.
'Your turn, I think,' Sheelagh murmured.
She stiffened then forced herself to sip her wine. 'Des.'
'Where do you want me to start?' asked Sheelagh seriously.
Leaning her head into the crook of her neck, Sam replied, 'You were obviously attracted to him.'
'Yeah,' Sheelagh said after a few seconds. 'He was trying it on from day one and it was...nice in a way. I'd been married to Patrick for so long that the flirting was pleasant. It reminded me that I wasn't just a copper and a wife and a mother. Someone out there fancied me.' As Sam shifted in her arms, she pressed a kiss to her hair. 'Do you want me to stop?'
Sam shook her head. 'I need to hear it.'
'It started to become a bit more serious when I assigned him to the Coal Lane as Ward Officer,' she explained. 'You probably don't remember that but he'd been chatting up some woman and it got to me.'
'No, I remember,' Sam said. 'That was one of the first times when I actually thought you were hiding something from me.'
'You were right,' Sheelagh said with a soft snort. 'Very astute.'
'Well, I was ADI back then,' she pointed out. 'Anyway, it was Matt Boyden who drew my attention to it. Called you a double-act and I paid attention after that, in spite of the dodgy source.'
Sheelagh rubbed her neck. 'All that time? You knew about it and you never said a word?'
'What was I meant to say?' she reasoned. 'You didn't wanna confide in me and I didn't understand why it bothered me so much. You were important to me and I didn't wanna push, I didn't wanna lose you.'
'The first time he tried it on, I told him to keep his hands to himself,' Sheelagh continued finally. 'I couldn't forget it though. I tried, I knew what I was risking, but when you were on holiday... There was all the stuff with Patrick and the assault. Des helped with that, he helped me prove Patrick's innocence.'
'You know, when Gina told me how involved he was in that, I was jealous,' Sam admitted. Twisting her head, she sought out Sheelagh's lips then curled further into her body and closed her eyes. 'It hurt that you hadn't told me about him.'
'I'm sorry, darling,' Sheelagh whispered into her ear. 'We can stop for now, if you want.'
'Keep going,' she said firmly.
'I kissed him, not the other way round,' said Sheelagh. 'There'd been an incident with a bus and Reg was taken hostage. Des drove me back and I just... It's ironic, isn't it? I had a go at you for seeking out a bit of physical comfort and I did exactly the same thing.'
'You wanted him before that,' Sam argued gently. 'I saw that with my own eyes. You don't have to hide that.'
Sheelagh sighed. 'I'm not trying to. Honestly, though, I don't understand what I was doing. Risking my marriage for some cheap little fling? I didn't recognise myself. For those few days, my head was a real mess,' she went on. 'There was all the stuff with Des and then there was you... I told you last week what happened next.'
'Yeah,' Sam muttered, 'I don't need that repeating.'
Falling silent for a couple of minutes, Sheelagh simply squeezed her tight and Sam tried to ignore the rather peculiar urge she had right now to cry. Des really was water under the bridge between them but talking about it was stirring up the jealousy she hadn't been able to decipher properly at the time, so similar to Sheelagh's jealousy over Cavanaugh.
'I'm sorry,' Sheelagh said.
'It's not my place to criticise,' Sam answered, even as her stomach fastened in a knot. Then she said, 'You came to see me when I was on leave. Twice, actually, but I think I know what triggered it the second time. What about the first time?'
Sheelagh sighed against her ear. 'He'd been bragging about sleeping with a married woman to Reg. The second time, there were a few things – the Super catching us in the office and the anniversary.' When Sam involuntarily shivered she added, 'But finding him in the pub wrapped around Honey Harman was the more pressing reason.'
Snorting, Sam said, 'I knew he was crazy.'
'That was it, you know,' Sheelagh said, 'just a few times and then I tried to move on and forget about it. I ignored every sign of pregnancy, more subconsciously than anything else, and when I found out I wanted to hide from it for as long as possible. It wasn't as though I could ever have an abortion and I tried to bury my head in the sand for as long as possible.'
'Well, I can understand that,' Sam returned. 'You left Patrick for him though. Or, at least, you would've if...'
More pain had weaselled its way into her voice than she'd realised. Sheelagh had caught it too, pushing her upwards carefully and cajoling her face around. She found herself gazing into her eyes until Sheelagh drew her in for a tender kiss which ended with a tear dribbling down Sam's cheek.
'I think that's enough for tonight,' Sheelagh said. 'You need to sleep, darling. We both do.'
Reluctantly, she nodded. 'What about Abi though?'
'We'll talk about that in the morning as well,' answered Sheelagh. 'There's nothing we can do now and I'm off tomorrow. We'll come at it fresh and we can go over everything, okay?'
Sam had missed this sensation of being loved and looked after more than she could articulate. It was a good job she wasn't expected to and they simply drained their wine glasses in silence before disentangling themselves. Feeling the loss immediately, Sam went straight upstairs to get ready for bed while Sheelagh switched things off downstairs. It made her smile that she found the nightshirt she'd worn last week tucked half-underneath Sheelagh's pillow.
Slipping back into this bed felt far more like coming home than it should've. While she waited for Sheelagh she fought against the fatigue tickling her eyelids. She wanted – no, needed – to hold Sheelagh tonight, however exhausted she was. In the few minutes it took Sheelagh to get changed in the bathroom and join her, she managed to wake herself up by letting her mind wander to some inappropriate places. It meant that when the covers were tugged back, she was at least awake enough to appreciate the beauty of it.
'You've no idea how much I've missed you,' she said, wrapping their legs together.
'Oh, I think I might,' Sheelagh returned.
Sam nestled into her arms and closed her eyes. Although she felt more at ease than she had for days, there was still something niggling at the back of her mind. Sighing, she opened her eyes again and found blue eyes staring back at her.
'What is it?' Sheelagh queried softly.
She bit her lip. 'You said something the other day that I can't... When you said that I was acting –'
After breaking her off with a kiss, Sheelagh murmured, 'That was me lashing out, darling. You're nothing like the woman they told me to be careful of. I tell you something – if you were, you wouldn't be dwelling on it. I'm sorry I hurt you,' she added, stroking her cheek. 'You're my Sam Nixon, you know. I don't think anyone's seen her before.'
With a chuckle, Sam cocooned herself under Sheelagh's chin. 'You're right there.'
Given she'd had several nights of sleeping badly, she'd expected exhaustion to keep her unconscious until something disturbed her. It didn't work like that though. She woke up fully alert not long after seven, Sheelagh's arm draped over her thigh and a hot current running through her body. Since it was a choice between staying there to stare only to, inevitably, wake Sheelagh up or going downstairs, she chose the more sensible option. She might've felt rested but everything they'd discussed last night was still valid and she had to respect Sheelagh's concerns about the physical side of things. It wasn't as if she didn't have her own concerns about it so the best thing to do was just keep her distance, although studying Sheelagh's lips in the early morning light wasn't conducive to that. So she crept out of bed and went down to the kitchen, suddenly intent on doing something to remind Sheelagh that she loved her without succumbing to the obvious.
When she returned to the bedroom twenty minutes later she was reluctant to wake Sheelagh. She looked peaceful and content, and Sam was happy to stare at her for as long as was practicable. However, she also recalled that her making an edible breakfast was something to be celebrated and Sheelagh should be allowed to enjoy the experience. Balancing the tray with her left hand, she slid onto the bed and gently caressed Sheelagh's cheek until she stirred.
'Mmm...' Lips curling into a delicious smile, Sheelagh opened her eyes. 'Morning.'
Sam nodded to the tray. 'You were out of eggs so I had to make bacon sandwiches but it's okay, they're not like charcoal. Promise.'
Sheelagh smirked as she sat up. 'That happen regularly, does it?'
'Actually, yes,' she retorted.
She rested the tray on Sheelagh's knee then slotted back inside the covers and reached for her own coffee. This was very domesticated, she realised, and it was a little bemusing that not twelve hours ago they were still in separate houses missing each other. Maybe Sheelagh was having similar thoughts: when Sam glanced sideways, she smiled a little and rested her head against her shoulder while she ate.
'What do you want to do today?' Sam asked finally. 'I was thinking we should print off Abi's posts from the suicide website and –'
'They're downstairs,' Sheelagh cut in. 'By all means, look through. You might catch onto something I've missed.'
'Of course you read them,' Sam muttered, shaking her head. 'What did you do – get Phil to print them off for you?'
'Guilty,' replied Sheelagh. 'He's been very helpful, you know.'
Sam let out a soft snort. 'That's how I know it's bad. Okay, well, I haven't looked through them so I'd like to and the rest of the work we did is back at mine... I suppose if you drive, we should be all right.'
'All right?' Sheelagh repeated. 'What do you mean?'
'Hugh doesn't know your car,' Sam answered with a shrug. 'We park that outside and he won't know we're in there. I don't wanna alienate him completely – we might need his help – but this is between you and me. He doesn't get an opinion.'
Sighing, Sheelagh said, 'I was wrong to try and make you choose.'
'You weren't though,' Sam retorted. Shifting her weight, she balanced her cup carefully and turned to face her. 'Being around him... It's like being stuck in a vortex. Everything has to be what he says it is. As you can imagine, I've never been exactly good with that kind of authority, but he's used to getting his own way. The last couple of days, I went along with it but I don't trust his every thought, not like he thinks I should. You know, I can tell you anything and you'll consider it. I could tell you Abi had been abducted by aliens and you'd calmly hear me out.'
Sheelagh sipped her coffee. 'Can we park that one for a little bit?'
Pressing a kiss to her head, Sam replied, 'For now. Anyway, do you think Connor would mind if I coaxed you back to mine for a few days?'
'Mind?' Sheelagh returned. 'Why do you think he came to get you last night?'
As a light-hearted remark to ease the tension of the conversation about Hugh, it worked wonders and they finished their breakfast in comfortable silence. Only when Sam had carefully deposited the tray onto the floor did the atmosphere begin to thicken again, though this time charged with something far more sexual. Craving intimacy, she curled into Sheelagh's side and rested her arm around her waist. For the last couple of days she hadn't felt safe and now she realised quite how bad it'd been. When Sheelagh wrapped an arm around her shoulders she clung on tighter.
'You're okay,' said Sheelagh. 'We're okay. I promise you, we're going to be fine.'
'I'm sorry,' she murmured. 'I don't know what I'd do if I lost you.'
'It was a blip, that's all,' Sheelagh answered. 'And I feel the same, you know. That's why it hurts so much when you try to push me away, even if I understand why you do it. We've both made mistakes in our life but who hasn't? We can't keep punishing ourselves for them. All the baggage we've got between the two of us and how different we are... I mean, if you were gonna write a love story, we'd be the last people you'd have in it but it works, darling. Maybe that's why it works, I don't know.'
'It scares me how much I need this,' Sam admitted after a moment. 'How much I want from you. I'm not just talking about the physical side, I'm talking about...living together and sharing everything. I've never wanted that before and I want it with you.'
'Do you think I don't?' Sheelagh queried.
'We're moving too fast,' Sam reminded her. 'We only kissed two weeks ago.'
Pulling back, Sheelagh tilted her chin up. 'So that means you're not sure?'
Sam's mouth dried out as she gazed into her gorgeous eyes. 'No, I'm more certain than I've ever been in my life.'
Maybe honesty really was the best policy, she realised as Sheelagh's breathing hitched and their lips met in a coffee-infused kiss that clouded her brain. She was aware of Sheelagh repositioning herself but was startled to find her straddling her, hands spinning through her hair as she moved her lips down to her neck. Sam leaned her head back and pulled Sheelagh closer until she became abruptly aware that their nightshirts had ridden up above their waists and the thin fabric did nothing to protect their breasts. It was completely obvious how involved they both were and, perversely, it was that knowledge that forced Sam to urge Sheelagh's lips back to hers one last time before breaking away.
Cheeks flushed, Sheelagh said, 'For the record, I like you being honest with me.'
'I'm getting that impression actually,' Sam answered. 'I'll bear it in mind.'
Sheelagh held her gaze for an excruciating minute. Sam knew that if they kissed again now, that'd be it; she was hardly keeping a lid on it as it was, but their conversation last night recurred to her sharply and she knew neither of them were ready for this. So she leaned forward for one final chaste kiss then looked away. After a couple of seconds, Sheelagh slid from the bed and straightened her nightshirt, though not before Sam had a tantalising glimpse of her red underwear. Exhaling, she wondered if she'd just made a huge mistake.
'I'm up here,' Sheelagh pointed out.
Now it was her turn to blush. 'Sorry.'
'Don't be,' replied Sheelagh with a little smile. 'I'll just have a quick shower. Why don't you pack me a bag?'
She sauntered out of the room before Sam could formulate a response to that and it was only when the shower began to run in the bathroom that she recognised what packing a bag entailed. She remembered vividly being in Sheelagh's old bedroom collecting clothes to take to the hospital when Niamh was born. Back then, the sight of the underwear had derailed her completely but that was nothing compared to what it did now. It took a great deal of self-restraint to pack two matching sets into the bottom of a travel bag then cover them with a couple of pairs of jeans and two blouses that she knew accentuated Sheelagh's cleavage. The whole situation should've felt sordid but it didn't – it left her feeling dizzier than ever and completely enamoured. That, of course, had been Sheelagh's intention and Sam knew she'd have to watch out for tricks like this in the future. It wouldn't do any good to let her know that all it took was the sight of her underwear to leave her utterly speechless. Then again, Sheelagh seemed to be able to do that in so many ways these days – would one more really make that big a difference?
She managed to dress before Sheelagh finished her lengthy shower and then she resisted the urge to stay in the bedroom until she returned. Instead, she took the tray downstairs and cleared up the breakfast pots before waiting patiently at the kitchen table. When Sheelagh arrived with her bag slung over her shoulder she was staring at the doorway, waiting and not waiting then unable to keep the smile from her face.
Sheelagh didn't draw attention to it. She simply retrieved a sheaf of papers from the top of the microwave and queried, 'Ready?'
The only concession Sam made to her car on the way past was checking she hadn't left anything on the back seat. It was funny; she was usually completely possessive over how she travelled but she'd gladly let Sheelagh drive her into the Channel if she wanted to. They needed separate cars for practical purposes in their jobs but, otherwise, she was content to let Sheelagh take control. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Sheelagh turned the radio on.
As they pulled up outside the house, Sam glanced around. It wasn't likely that Hugh was here; as he'd be the first to point out, there were people out there who actually wanted his attention and he'd no doubt be attending to them. However, she was still relieved that she didn't see his car anywhere and they entered the house without incident.
She felt Sheelagh stiffen beside her, as though she was reliving their last conversation here. Thinking about it, Sam conceded the place felt different after a few days of Hugh's presence. There was nothing tangible, of course; just the sense of authority that she hadn't really realised was weighing her down until last night. She suddenly felt as if she needed to eradicate it as much as Sheelagh did.
Digging into her bag for her purse, she asked, 'Can I be a pain?'
'Like no one else I know,' Sheelagh replied with a little smirk.
'Very clever,' Sam said, though she couldn't hide her own smile. 'No, would you mind nipping to the shop? I've got nothing in. I think I've actually run out of wine too.'
'Well, that seals it,' answered Sheelagh. 'Food, I can live without but a day with you and no wine? No chance. Put your money away. I won't be long.'
Sam took the overnight bag and pile of papers from her hands, kissed her and watched fondly as she slipped out of the door. It was obvious that Sheelagh knew exactly what she was doing and why but some things, despite their talking pact, still didn't need to be discussed. There were benefits to being able to communicate without words and Sam had certainly never had that in her life before.
While Sheelagh was gone, she zoomed round the house and freshened up as best she could. Washing-up, vacuuming and spraying air freshener round the place seemed to remove Hugh's presence. It also helped focus her mind. She brought out every single piece of work she had on Abi's disappearance and stacked them on the kitchen table. Then she settled down to wait again; a different table but the same strange sense of calm washing over her.
It made her smile that Sheelagh used her key to get back in, struggling into the kitchen with two bags of shopping clinking at her side. Sam rose and took them from her, unable to resist kissing her hello and nearly knocking the wine bottles into the table leg in the process.
'Clumsy,' Sheelagh commented. 'Didn't you see the answer phone flashing?'
'No,' she said honestly. 'I didn't think.'
Depositing the bags onto the counter, she followed her back through into the hallway. There were five new messages and, instantly, she knew who they were from. It wasn't as though she had anything to hide from Sheelagh, however, so she straightened her spine and pressed 'play'. The messages were all from this morning.
'You've obviously turned your mobile off,' Hugh said. 'Under the circumstances, that's silly but I'll keep trying.'
Message deleted.
'Sam, what you do with your life is your own business but you came to me for help so I have the right to express an opinion. Call me when you get this.'
Message deleted.
'Do you think this is doing Abi any good? Are you sure you want to find her and you wouldn't rather just forget her and throw yourself at –'
Message deleted.
'Perhaps I was a little harsh in my last message. I know you want to find Abi, Sam. I just think we stand a better chance together, that's all. Call me.'
Message deleted.
The last one was simply a sigh and a hang-up. A little bemused, Sam deleted it and turned to look at Sheelagh, only to find a matching expression on her face. Then she took her hand and led her back to the kitchen to unpack the shopping. Once everything was away, Sheelagh put the kettle on as a matter of course and Sam pulled her mobile from her pocket.
'I suppose I better put this back on,' she remarked.
'I can't believe you turned it off,' Sheelagh said.
'Well, you're my FLO,' she answered. 'If anything happened, I knew Gina or Jack or even Manson would call you. It's not like they couldn't hazard a guess at where I was.'
Sheelagh grinned but said nothing until they were both sat with a cup of tea alongside the piles of carefully-arranged papers. It was hardly that Sam had managed to forget her daughter's disappearance up until now but she'd been shielding it under her determination to make things right with Sheelagh. Now she felt a little bit adrift again.
'Right,' Sheelagh said briskly, 'here's what we know. The day Craig Olson was arrested Abi left the station and went to visit an unidentified person. We know that because she withdrew some money from an unusual cash point. After that date, she started communicating with an unknown number who we can only assume was the person she visited that day, though that's speculation. Take over,' she instructed. 'Come on.'
Sam clasped her hands around her cup. 'On the day we attended June and Jim's wedding, she withdrew a small amount of money from the unusual cash machine then withdrew £100 from one closer to home. We don't know what she needed the money for but we can't find any purchase that matches up.'
'You saw her for the last time first thing in the morning,' Sheelagh continued, 'and she bought a temporary travel card on her debit card from near the bus stop. We don't know what she did that day but we do know she set up a meeting with a webcam punter and didn't show up and she also skipped a doctor's appointment that day as well. One thing we're certain about is that she made a cash withdrawal near college and it's likely she communicated with Tess Garvey that day since she was in the area. Now, her clothes were left on the sandbank with her old travel card in the pocket that night and they weren't recovered until the next day.'
Nodding, Sam entwined their fingers. 'A week after that there was a reconstruction of a girl dumping clothes on the sandbank. That night, someone clicked the button to send me a prewritten email suggesting Abi was suicidal. That led us to Tess Garvey on the day she died. Five days after that I was sent a video of Abi saying that...'
'It's okay,' Sheelagh said, squeezing her hand. 'I saw the video. You don't have to talk about it.'
'No, I do,' she objected, 'but let's finish this first. So, again, someone deliberately sent that video for me to receive at that specific time. I don't know why. It would've been more significant for me to get it on Abi's birthday surely. Anyway,' she went on, clearing her throat, 'we know that the video was shot that morning and that there was a man in the room with her.'
'We also know that Abi wasn't herself,' added Sheelagh gently.
'And here we are,' Sam concluded with an attempt at a smile. 'No closer to finding her.'
Sheelagh began massaging her palm with her thumb. 'Thanks to Phil, the DI's taking it seriously now. They're confident finally that someone else's involved.'
Thanks to Phil?' Sam repeated incredulously. 'Thanks to you. It was you who talked him into taking it seriously in the first place. You're the reason we've got anywhere with this, you've been on the ball from the start. I've been a wreck.'
'I'd hardly go that far,' Sheelagh answered. 'You're coping very well under the circumstances. What about Hugh?' she asked. 'What did you discuss with him?'
Grimacing, Sam gestured to the stack of papers furthest from her. 'Why don't you look through those and I can read Abi's postings from the suicide website?'
Sheelagh complied without comment, passing her the smaller pile then settling down to read her own. Although Sam could see her scepticism growing on her face as she read through Hugh's work, she didn't draw attention to it. She knew that Sheelagh would listen to her prattling on about her ideas for weeks but she had limited patience for Hugh at the best of times. Even so, it did them good to be both up to speed on what had been going on so Sheelagh read through quietly and finished rather quickly, rising to get them both another drink.
'Are you hungry yet?' she asked. 'I got some beef for sandwiches.'
Sam smiled. 'That'd be nice.'
Ten minutes later they had sandwiches and fresh tea and Sam was mulling over what she'd read in the website postings. They sounded as alien as the suicide email had and, given that Hugh's language analysis friend had already taken a look at that, she could say with confidence that Abi hadn't written those postings – or, at least, hadn't written them alone. For all Hugh's talk of abductors, she knew as well as Sheelagh did that the abduction theory only covered half the bases.
'So,' she said after she'd swallowed down the last of her sandwich, 'you're agreed that the video was peculiar. I know Abi and that was a...shadow.'
'Do you think it was an act?' Sheelagh questioned.
Shaking her head, Sam murmured, 'Not unless she's hoping for RADA. She's either being controlled or it's a deliberate exercise in misdirection. Like the clothes on the sandbank and the suicide email. We know suicide was never on the cards – you were right about that. Maybe it's conceit but I can't think that Abi would've wanted me to ever believe she was dead, not completely of her own volition.'
'And maybe I'm conceited to be a little bit perplexed that she never mentions me,' Sheelagh said. 'Well, us, I mean. We know she was upset about that. In fact, that's what she was upset about more than anything. But there's no mention of it in the suicide email, the website postings or the video. It doesn't add up.'
'Is it possible whoever she's with doesn't know the truth?' Sam suggested. 'Maybe she's given another reason for why she wanted to...run away or whatever this is.'
'That indicates a lack of trust,' Sheelagh pointed out. 'Surely to recruit somebody into helping her in the first place, she'd have to trust them. Unless she doesn't want to hurt you that much by bringing it up.'
'Unless she doesn't wanna hurt you,' argued Sam. 'Why do you think she kept quiet for so long once she knew how I felt? It wasn't about my feelings, it was about yours.'
Sighing, Sheelagh drained her cup. 'Come on, let's go through everything again.'
The day passed pretty quickly, both of them reading and hypothesising but, admittedly, not coming up with much in the way of answers. It was frustrating, of course, but Sam savoured the sensation of them working together again on this. While Hugh might proffer his theories as the be all and end all, it was notable that they hadn't exactly achieved much yet. At least with Sheelagh she felt as though the mere act of talking it through helped.
They broke off after six with an unspoken agreement to leave it there on the casework for tonight. Sheelagh set about cooking while Sam removed everything from the table and sent Hugh a polite text to thank him for his help in the last few days. Unsurprisingly, she received a curt response and winced at the way she'd apparently offended him. If they needed his help in the future, he wasn't going to jump to attention as he had before so she'd just have to hope they didn't. On reflection, though, she'd been foolish to call on him in the first place when she had Sheelagh by her side.
Dinner was delicious then they relocated to the living room with a glass of wine. Sam put a CD on and they settled down on the sofa. It was becoming almost habit now and she liked it. However, glancing sideways, she wondered if it was time to raise a couple of those issues they'd let lie last night. From the look on Sheelagh's face, she seemed to be wondering the same thing.
Gingerly, Sam rested a hand on her knee. 'Have you been to church since all...this started?'
Sheelagh's face betrayed her surprise. 'Why do you ask?'
'Because I know your faith's important to you,' she answered. 'I might not share it but I do respect it. I'll take that as a no then.'
'What Father Donnell said about Connor shook me up,' Sheelagh admitted after a moment. 'Even if it was just about him, I couldn't condone his attitude. It felt callous,' she continued, clutching Sam's hand, 'needlessly callous. And it wasn't the first time I'd felt like that around him. After we lost Niamh... On the one hand, he was telling me that God wasn't punishing me then, on the other, he was talking about a fresh start for me and Patrick as if it was the only option. Good coming out of bad, that kind of thing.'
Sam inhaled deeply. 'It would've been easy to give in.'
'Would it?' Sheelagh questioned. When Sam shrugged, she went on, 'It's funny, thinking about it now, what I said to Patrick.'
'What do you mean?' asked Sam.
'I told him we couldn't go back,' explained Sheelagh, meeting her eye. 'I told him it wasn't about Des. I think the way I put it was that I felt different and I'd be hiding if I went back as if nothing had happened.'
Those words startled Sam and she didn't even try to mask it. The idea that even in the midst of intense trauma at the beginning of the year, Sheelagh had identified there was something different was crazy in the grand scheme of things. Yes, the affair had shaken her life but Sam subscribed to the assertion that it was less to do with Des than anyone else would probably credit. She kept quiet though; uncertain if she was being too presumptuous about what had been going on in Sheelagh's head. As difficult as it was for her, she was determined to let Sheelagh analyse her own emotions. It was the only way they were going to move forward.
Biting her lip, Sheelagh took both of their glasses and placed them delicately on the end table. She turned back and shifted to look her dead in the face.
'Thinking back now, it was about us,' she continued firmly. 'I was convinced I couldn't get back with Patrick, I couldn't explain it to him or myself. I remember trying to think after Niamh died about the last time I'd been happy. I'd had dinner with Patrick that night and he'd wanted to give it another go. He'd been willing to accept Niamh as his, he'd said all the right things and I'd still hesitated. I should've been over the moon but I wasn't. Then I realised that it was us – the last time I'd been happy, I mean. You came round for some reason and you gave her a bath. She soaked you through and you loved every minute of it, do you remember?'
Sam rested a hand on her shoulder, massaging in circles. 'Course I do, sweetheart. I remember everything.'
They'd never really talked about this, how much of a family they'd been for those few short weeks. It was just something they'd taken for granted and hadn't analysed too much. For Sam, it had been too much like straying close to admitting the truth about how she felt; maybe for Sheelagh it had skated too close to acknowledging it. Even so, they could talk about it now. With Abi missing, maybe it was something they really ought to do. Motioning Sheelagh into her arms, she inhaled her familiar scent and smiled.
'The day I found out I'd missed out on the DI's job,' she said after a moment, 'you came upstairs to see me. Which, by the way, was unnecessarily brave and foolhardy under the circumstances.'
Sheelagh chuckled and nestled closer. 'Believe me, I was aware of that.'
'Well, Niamh kicked,' Sam continued, 'and you let me share that with you. That was incredible, you know. I felt...connected, like we were a family.'
'We were,' Sheelagh answered softly. 'I felt it too.'
Kissing her hair, Sam said, 'I nearly throttled Gina when she took you out on that job the day you went into labour. With everything she knew about how I felt, she was dicing with death.'
'I wanted to go,' Sheelagh murmured. The smile was evident in her voice. 'And I wanted you there when I gave birth. It felt natural, though I bet that gave Gina more ammunition.'
'It won't have helped,' conceded Sam then she began gently tracing patterns on Sheelagh's cheek. 'Walking into that hospital room and seeing her for the first time... You were gorgeous together and you looked so happy. Part of me felt like I didn't belong but the rest of me...'
Sheelagh snorted. 'You belonged. I remember the look on your face when you held her. I should've known then. Then, later, when I woke up and found you singing ABBA to her...'
'There is nothing wrong with ABBA,' Sam replied, earning a laugh. 'She liked it anyway.'
'The pair of you were beautiful,' said Sheelagh. 'I wish I had a picture of the two of you together.'
Inhaling deeply, Sam said, 'I don't need one. I can still see her, feel her, smell her.'
For a couple of minutes, Sheelagh was silent. Sam felt her shivering and just held her all the closer, dropping the occasional kiss onto her head until she imperceptibly understood that they were ready to talk again. She shifted so they were both resting against the cushions and gazing at each other.
'The next day,' Sheelagh began with obvious difficulty, 'I went a little crazy, worried about Des and... I'd been driving the nurses round the bend. I think they were a hair's breadth from charging in there and taking her away from me. I wouldn't talk to anyone then you turned up. You didn't push me, you were just perfect. You made me feel calm again.'
'I was petrified myself,' Sam admitted. 'I was working on instinct, I didn't know if I was right.'
Sheelagh ran her finger along her cheek. 'You were brilliant.'
'You left her with me,' said Sam after a few seconds. 'I thought I was pushing my luck a bit actually but it meant a lot – that you trusted me.'
'Of course I did,' Sheelagh answered.
Sam leaned forward, unable to resist kissing her. It turned into more than that; a languid demonstration of love that ended with them both battling tears. Hooking her leg around Sheelagh's body, Sam felt her shudder and couldn't attribute it to either one thing or the other.
'That's enough for now,' she said firmly. 'No more.'
'Okay,' Sheelagh mumbled into her collarbone.
They stayed like that for a while then one of them shifted and they returned to reality a bit. For the next hour, they watched mindless television, though Sam's mind was elsewhere the entire time. The pressure of Sheelagh's weight against her arm or her fingers around her own was never far away and she allowed herself those thoughts she tried to rarely let in – what ifs about Niamh and Abi and their family that could've been. It reminded her of the tangible issues they still had, of things they could – and needed to – deal with before long. They'd already decided they couldn't put things off permanently so they should try and find a way forward where they could. It'd be enough to know what she was facing, Sam thought wryly as she watched Sheelagh watch television.
However, she didn't broach the issue until they were wrapped up in each other's arms in bed. They were both mentally drained and every urge Sam had was doused under a layer of practicality. She smoothed down Sheelagh's hair and half-regretted the pyjama bottoms they were both wearing tonight. Perhaps, tomorrow, she'd negotiate on that point.
'Okay, you,' she said finally, 'cards on the table time.'
'Am I in trouble?' Sheelagh queried, sliding her hand under the hem of her shirt.
'You will be if you carry on like that,' Sam warned. 'But, you know, the ball's in your court so feel free.'
Sheelagh chuckled. 'Cards, tennis... Anything else?'
'Not apart from the obvious,' she muttered then cleared her throat. 'Sorry, that wasn't where I was going with this. I wanted to ask... What about your family, sweetheart? How are they gonna react to this? We've got Connor on our side and that's great but I need to know the rest of it. I think maybe you need to face it as well.'
Although she sighed, Sheelagh huddled closer. 'You're right, of course you are.'
'Of course,' Sam echoed, mostly for effect. It worked: Sheelagh scraped her fingers against her stomach pointedly until she was forced to succumb to the tickling sensation and jerk out of the way. 'Okay, okay, I'm very sorry.'
'Connor isn't holding out for the right moment like he thinks he is,' Sheelagh said eventually. 'He knows deep down that it's gonna be a bit of a nightmare. He only found the courage to tell me because of you, he knows it won't be that simple with the rest of them.'
'Go on,' pressed Sam gently, even as her stomach muscles clenched.
'Well, Patrick won't turn his back on his son,' Sheelagh continued. 'He doesn't have that in him. But that doesn't mean it'll be easy. He's a lovely man but he puts a lot of trust in what...'
'What Father Donnell tells him?' Sam suggested. She wondered if she should feel jealous of Patrick right now but the sensation wasn't forthcoming, maybe because of the warmth of Sheelagh's hand against her skin.
'That's right,' Sheelagh said softly. 'It'll take time and, in the short-term, he might well hurt Connor. And, when he knows everything, he'll blame me. I suppose it's good in one way – I can take the heat off him.'
Snickering, Sam said, 'Typically selfless.'
'There has to be a plus side,' reasoned Sheelagh.
Sam manoeuvred away and sought out her lips in the gloom, offering, rather than taking, reassurance this time. 'It's gonna be that bad, is it?'
'It might be,' Sheelagh admitted and her body trembled. 'Patrick'll blame grief and as soon as Father Donnell finds out it'll be a full-scale onslaught from the Church. I'm not looking forward to it. It's not that I have doubts,' she added quickly, 'just that I –'
'Hey,' Sam interrupted, 'you don't need to explain. I need you to be honest with me, okay? We can face this together. Though I still wouldn't recommend putting me in a room with the priest – I wasn't that keen on him before today.'
'Deal,' said Sheelagh with a snicker 'I'm not sure he'd like you very much at the best of times.'
'I'll go out on a limb and take that as a compliment,' retorted Sam. 'So Patrick won't be happy about us. I suppose that was a given anyway, religion or not. What about Siobhan and Declan?'
'Siobhan'll be easier,' Sheelagh replied. 'She's a good girl and she already likes you. Declan... Well, I'm not so sure about him. He's at that age. I've got the horrible feeling that he'll react to Connor and he'll react to us. I'm not looking forward to it. Actually, I'm dreading it.'
Sam kissed her softly. 'We're gonna be okay, sweetheart. You can blame it all on me.'
'I don't want them to hate you,' Sheelagh returned vehemently. 'I want them to know you, properly know you.'
'I want to know them too,' she said. 'I'm just not sure how we get there. Not yet anyway. I'm bumbling around in the dark, Sheelagh. I'm not very good at this.'
'Every time you say that, you prove you're getting better.' Drawing her close, Sheelagh scattered kisses along her throat. 'Now, do us both a favour and go to sleep.'
Sam grinned and closed her eyes. 'Bossy boots.'
With them both going into work the next day, things were a little more hectic than they'd been on previous mornings. In a way, Sam liked it. This was the closest thing to normal they were going to get at the moment and she enjoyed the idea that this could be their life in the future. They needed to find Abi first, of course, and deal with everything else, but it was closer than she'd ever anticipated it might be and, yes, that scared her a little bit. Given the fact that Sheelagh put the radio on full blast as they drove, she suspected that fear might be visible in her face.
Outside the station, they reverted to their old roles. Anyone who didn't have an inkling what was going on between them – so, at this point that excluded the likes of Gina, Phil, Manson, Tony and June – wouldn't guess they'd spent last night curled up together talking about their complex family problems. It was for the best, Sam acknowledged, although she was surprised to realise she wanted to kiss Sheelagh goodbye as they walked into the nick. She settled for a significant squeeze to the arm and glided up to CID feeling nothing like herself.
'Didn't know you were back in today,' Phil commented as she sat down.
'What are you doing in so early?' she shot back. 'Latest woman kick you out on your ear by any chance?'
He sniggered. 'Listen, that ain't a problem, yeah? They're always begging for more. Anyway, you don't have room to talk, do you? Mess you're making of things.'
She wasn't going to dignify that with a response but her silence obviously spoke volumes. With a raised eyebrow, he shuffled his chair across the carpet and planted his elbows on the edge of her desk.
'Come to think of it,' he said, 'Sheelagh weren't working yesterday, was she?'
'Don't dig, Phil,' she replied. 'Have you seen my submission for the Lamont case? I'm sure it was on my desk.'
'The DI wanted a gander,' he answered. 'Come on, Samantha, don't leave me in suspense. Have you two –'
'Get your mind out of the gutter,' she warned. 'You are not to think about my girlfriend in any way, shape or form.'
'Girlfriend?' he repeated, grinning. 'Gotcha.'
She couldn't help but smile. 'Why does the DI want to know about the Lamont case?'
Settling back into proper police work was easier than she'd expected. Part of her felt as though she was betraying Abi by focusing on something else but then she heard a voice strangely like Sheelagh's rubbishing that idea. Surely by flexing her detective muscles she was bringing herself closer to finding her daughter. At least, that's what she told herself at periodic intervals during the day.
Manson, after awkwardly querying her health and emotional state, tasked her to investigate an assault with Ken. While he was nice enough, she got the impression his frequent suggestions they stop for coffee were more about his stomach than her wellbeing. It turned out to be quite a simple investigation with a known local thug leaving his fingerprints on the weapon that was found stuffed in a nearby skip but she liked squaring it away anyway.
The paperwork for that took much of the day then she caught up on the pile that was spawning over her desk like some sort of alien glob. When she felt Sheelagh's presence behind her she was almost up-to-date and she set about turning her computer off without even glancing over her shoulder to check her hunch was correct. From the expression on Phil's face, she was spot-on.
Since CID was sparsely populated, Sheelagh risked pressing a hand to her shoulder. 'You ready?'
Sam glanced up and smiled at her. 'Yep, one minute.'
'Everything all right, Sheelagh?' Phil asked.
'Why do you ask?' she retorted and Sam smothered her amusement. 'Do I look ill?'
'No, no, you look gorgeous,' he answered.
Clearing her throat, Sam said, 'Watch it, Philip. We've had this conversation once today.'
'Have you now?' Sheelagh questioned.
He just chuckled. 'Night, ladies. Don't do nothing I wouldn't, yeah?'
As she stood, Sam exchanged a look with Sheelagh, finding her eyebrow arched in that beautiful way that set her mind wandering in rather inappropriate directions. Right now, she tried to battle that down and threw her best mock-glare onto Phil.
'Answers on the back of a stamp then,' she said. 'Night, night, Phil.'
In the past, this exchange would've been combative but now it was more affectionate than anything else. It had truly been a crazy year and she followed Sheelagh down the front stairs and outside with a little smirk on her face. They didn't speak until they slipped into the car and Sheelagh began reversing out of the space.
'Good day?' Sam queried.
'Not bad,' answered Sheelagh, shooting her a smile. 'Once I fielded all of Gina's questions. Honestly, she's worse than Honey Harman.'
Sam slid a hand onto her knee. 'Don't let her hear you say that.'
'Frightened, DS Nixon?' Sheelagh asked innocently.
'Terrified,' she returned. 'Listen, do you fancy eating out tonight? I'd offer to cook but you know how that turns out.'
'Sure,' said Sheelagh, 'where were you thinking?'
'The red-light bar?' she suggested.
Sheelagh's only response was to turn right instead of left when they left the car park and Sam eased back into her seat, closing her eyes. It occurred to her that, while they'd eaten out plenty of times before, this was their first official outing as a couple that didn't include a burger stand.
As they drove, she came to a conclusion that was slightly painful, yet true nonetheless. The normality of a day at work coupled with this meal brought up a few pertinent points that their discussions over the last couple of days had already settled at the back of her mind. She resolved to bring it up at an appropriate moment during the evening then turned her attention to smoothing out her rumpled jacket and checking her hair in the mirror.
'Anyone'd think you've got a hot date,' Sheelagh commented as they pulled up.
Unbuckling her seatbelt, Sam grinned. 'You can always go back and bring Phil out if you'd prefer.'
'Now don't tempt me,' returned Sheelagh. She leaned across the divide and dropped a sweet kiss onto her lips then added, 'I have to say, I don't think Phil would be half as good at that as you are.'
'You're not to test the theory,' Sam warned. When Sheelagh just quirked an eyebrow and got out of the car she scrambled to follow. 'Oi, there was an answer required to that.'
'It wasn't a question,' Sheelagh pointed out, locking the car.
Sam watched her sauntering towards the bar for a few seconds then shook herself and caught up. By the time they reached the front entrance, they were holding hands and she didn't particularly care who saw it. They were far enough away from Sun Hill now for it to be safe and, besides, who came on a date like this and didn't hold hands? If someone wanted to pick a fight about it, she'd gladly arrest them.
Inside the bar, she slipped off Sheelagh's coat in a way that could only be seen as proprietary before charming Barry into giving them the quietest table in the house again. She was enjoying this, she realised, as she helped Sheelagh into her seat and she was pretty sure that the feeling was mutual. The flush on Sheelagh's face was intoxicating and Sam found herself pondering the natural progression of a night like this. They both wanted it to go further but it wouldn't – not yet. It formed part of what she needed to discuss.
They ordered their starters and a glass of wine each then the atmosphere began to settle around them. Sam knew she needed to break the silence before it became laced with something neither one of them could control so she cleared her throat and focused on a subject she'd been pondering for a while that had nothing to do with them.
'Why the career change?' she asked. 'I mean, not that I'm not hugely grateful about it but I've always wondered. You know, I can picture you as a...' That brought a blush to her cheeks. 'Well, what I mean is –'
'Okay, stop,' Sheelagh cut in with an amused look. 'As gorgeous as you are when your face goes that colour, I'd like you to relax a bit.'
'I'm relaxed,' she argued mildly. 'There's a difference between flustered and relaxed.'
'You just admitted you're flustered,' Sheelagh retorted.
She shrugged. 'Well, yeah, I'm not clinically dead, am I? Come on, I asked you a question.'
'You're not in the interview room now, DS Nixon,' said Sheelagh.
'Oh, you'd know if I was,' she replied, startling them both with her intimate tone.
Smiling, Sheelagh reached for her wine. 'I suppose it was less of a leap than you might think. I wouldn't say I fell into nursing but it was an easy option. Sure, I was good at it, maybe because I listened to patients at the same time as treating them. Sometimes that's worth more than patching them up physically; sometimes it's what they need more. I got frustrated,' she continued. 'The coppers who came in were all Matt Boyden types, just after results and going about it in the worst way possible. I saw these victims ready to open up truthfully and they were just shut down, shut up by someone who had better things to do. I thought I could do a better job.'
'You were right,' Sam said softly.
'Hey,' Sheelagh went on after a moment, 'I wasn't putting you in that category, you know.'
'Maybe not,' she answered, 'but I used to be more like that than not. I've accepted it, don't worry. I've learned a lot in the last couple of years. At least, I hope I have.'
'Oh, believe me, you have,' Sheelagh said with a little smile. 'I do wonder, though, what might've happened if we'd met on the wards. Can you imagine it? You badgering a suspect and me trying to shut you up so I could carry on with my work?'
Sam stretched across the table to take her hand. 'I would probably have let you shut me up.'
Snorting, Sheelagh said, 'I sincerely doubt that.'
'Would I have had a choice?' Sam shot back. 'Do you miss it – nursing?'
'Yeah,' answered Sheelagh, squeezing her hand. 'Sometimes our job's like wading through sludge, you know that as well as I do. At least when I bandaged an arm or tended a burn I was doing something positive that left them better off. Our job's frustrating and it gets to me sometimes but the rewards are greater.'
'Do you think?' Sam queried.
'Well, a wise woman once told me that it's about two things,' Sheelagh said. 'Locking up scum and protecting the public.'
'You wanna be careful of your sources,' Sam returned.
Sheelagh laughed and took a sip of wine. They fell silent, the chatter of the bar barely making an impact on their secluded table. For a second, Sam felt a flash of guilt at being here while Abi was God-knows-where and she knew it showed in her face from the way Sheelagh's expression softened. Even so, she didn't mention it and they waited for their starters quietly with only Sheelagh's thumb caressing her wrist. They broke apart when the food arrived, though not quick enough to evade Barry's prying gaze, and finally looked away from each other.
Once the starters were demolished, Sam took a deep breath and stretched for her hand again. 'Listen, I think we need a plan.'
Shifting in her seat, Sheelagh said, 'I'm not sure I like the sound of this.'
'It's not an inherently bad thing,' Sam assured her. 'I just...can't live in limbo. Okay, that sounds wrong. What I mean is that we can't. You know, if we carry on living one day at a time, Sheelagh, we're gonna keep running into brick walls. I don't want that.'
'Me neither,' Sheelagh admitted. 'So what do you suggest?'
'I walked right into that one, didn't I?' she asked. 'However, don't you think this should be a joint decision?'
Sheelagh raised an eyebrow. 'That's sneaky.'
'What?' she questioned innocently. To hammer the point home, she added, 'I'm trying to be grown-up about this, Sheelagh. Communication, debate; that kinda thing. I've heard that's appropriate under the circumstances.'
'And they say you can't teach an old dog new tricks,' Sheelagh said conversationally.
'Oi, watch who you're calling old,' Sam answered with a chuckle.
'You're straying from the point,' replied Sheelagh.
'I've forgotten my point,' she retorted.
'You were being grown-up and appropriate, I believe,' answered Sheelagh. 'Something that sounds far more romantic than it should, I'm sure. Carry on.'
Sam gently turned her hand over and massaged her palm. 'I'm not giving up until I find Abi, of course I'm not. But you know as well as I do that we're being told what to think about all of this. Hard as I try, I can't believe that she's dead or hurt. There's nothing to suggest that, it's too calculated. We know she was alive a few days ago because we saw her in the video. Physically, she was fine and, honestly, I reckon it's more her mental state we've gotta be concerned about. Whoever she's with, they're polluting her mind.'
Nodding, Sheelagh said, 'Agreed.'
'Anyway,' she continued after a moment, 'I don't think me putting my life on hold is going to bring her home. If this is somebody out to get me then what they want is for me to fall apart. I refuse to do that. Maybe if I didn't have you I'd be tempted to but I don't have that luxury. On top of everything else, I can't lose you which means we've gotta figure out a way of doing this. Stop me if I'm being –'
'You're being adorable,' Sheelagh cut in.
Sam rolled her eyes. 'That's not exactly what I was going for.'
'Go on,' Sheelagh said softly, leaning her chin into her free hand.
'Carry on looking at me like that and I'll forget what I was saying again,' Sam warned. The smile that flickered over Sheelagh's face very nearly made that a reality then she managed to clear her throat. 'What I'm trying to say is that we need to find some sort of normality, day to day. For a start, you've got a perfectly good house and kids you're barely seeing. I mean, just because I don't have a life, it doesn't mean you don't. I know that and I don't wanna monopolise your time.'
'You don't think I wanna be here?' Sheelagh queried. 'I can honestly say if everything was as it should be, I'd still be here having dinner with you. Unless you're telling me you wouldn't be?'
'No, of course I would,' she said, squeezing her fingers. 'That's the thing – I'd rather be here any day. Which is brilliant but I learned that... It's not sustainable. We need a balance, don't we?'
Sighing, Sheelagh replied, 'I hate it when practical rears its ugly head.'
'I'm right, aren't I?' Sam asked carefully.
'It's not often you sound so unsure of yourself,' said Sheelagh, 'but, yeah, you are.'
They were interrupted by Barry delivering their mains, somewhat fortuitously as far as Sam was concerned. She was determined to enjoy tonight and she needed to get her thoughts in order so she didn't inadvertently upset Sheelagh. Watching her tucking into her linguine brought a smile to her face and she barely made a dent in her own dish until a look from across the table reminded her to eat. The food was as gorgeous as ever but her mind was elsewhere.
Leaning back in her chair when she'd finished, Sheelagh said, 'I think trying to get on with life is the only way to deal with this. You're definitely right about that and it might even flush out whoever's behind this. If they want you to suffer and you fight back then they're going to try harder, aren't they? The chances are they'll get careless.'
'Exactly,' Sam said when she'd swallowed her mouthful. 'At the moment everything we've got has either run into nothing or been handed to us on a plate. Okay, as soon as the next lead's given to us, I'll run at it with all I've got –'
'We will,' Sheelagh interjected.
Sam nodded. 'We will. But till then – and afterwards, if nothing comes of it – we need to carry on living our lives. I think that's what Abi would want.'
'Well, I'm sure of that,' said Sheelagh. 'You say I've got a life, though, but I haven't. Before I got to Sun Hill, maybe I did but it wasn't up to much. It was all couples who bored me or people from work I didn't have much in common with. I miss some of the people from church,' she admitted. 'The reason I don't see them's nothing to do with you. It started with Niamh and I've never got round to fixing it.'
'But you want to,' Sam answered.
'Sure I do,' Sheelagh returned, 'but it's not high on my priority list and it never would be. I do miss the kids,' she continued, 'and the day to day of that. Then again, all that was damaged before us as well. I'm fortunate that Connor's come round but that's more about him than anything else. Declan's settled with Patrick now and I don't think I'm getting him back.'
After straightening her cutlery, Sam reached for her hand again. 'You need to see more of him. He's a teenage lad, he won't seek you out any more than Connor did. I want you to be there for him, Sheelagh. It's important. This isn't anything to do with us; I just don't want you missing out. Well, maybe it is partly about us,' she conceded. 'If we don't start sorting this now then we'll be in trouble further down the line. Yeah, that's me being practical and boring again but I need to do this right.'
'No, it's sweet,' said Sheelagh. 'I'll make time to go round there a bit more, force him to see his old mum. Pizza's always good for bribery with both my boys.'
'Thanks for the tip,' Sam said.
'And I'll talk to Connor,' Sheelagh added. 'The longer he leaves it with Patrick and the rest, the worse it'll be. Maybe he could start off with Siobhan, maybe we both could.'
'I'm not asking you to do that,' replied Sam firmly. 'I'm just talking about laying the foundations, that's all.'
Sheelagh opened her mouth then closed it again as Barry collected their plates. With the table clear, Sam leaned across and took both of Sheelagh's hands in hers. It surprised her a bit that neither of them seemed anxious about the public location but, then again, they'd been through so much together in the last year that this was the least of their worries. However, they'd need to be more careful than this at the nick. That was another point to be considered, only maybe not tonight.
Whatever Sheelagh had been about to say had vanished into the air. Sam didn't much mind, squeezing her hands and idly wondering what tonight could lead to if they were ready. They weren't – or, at least, she wasn't – but they would be one day, maybe sooner rather than later. Then she was surprised by a large plate of cheesecake and two spoons appearing beside their arms.
'Compliments of the chef for such a lovely couple,' Barry explained before making a swift exit.
Sheelagh let out a little chuckle. 'I know you're a regular but this is ridiculous.'
'Actually, I think we're lucky it wasn't a plate of spaghetti,' Sam returned and they both burst out laughing. When that subsided, she found their eyes locked. 'This might go against everything I've said tonight but we do have a bit of a problem.'
'Go on,' Sheelagh murmured.
'I still can't imagine sleeping without you next to me,' she admitted. 'I don't think I could do it.'
Exhaling, Sheelagh said, 'Me neither.'
'So maybe we could stay at yours a little more?' Sam suggested. 'For the time being.'
'We can certainly make Connor squirm,' Sheelagh commented. 'Okay, you're on. And you needn't look so pleased with yourself.'
'I'm not,' she lied. 'I'm looking forward to the cheesecake.'
When they left the bar twenty minutes later they were hand in hand again. If this was her life in the interim, she could cope with it and, more importantly, she loved having Sheelagh this close with nothing between them anymore. Everything was in the open and, maybe, if Abi was here she'd be proud of her.
'Have you thought about getting a life?' Sheelagh questioned lightly as she started the engine.
Sam laughed and leaned over to kiss her cheek in the gloom. 'What do you think this is?'
'Good answer,' Sheelagh replied. She turned her head and caught her lips briefly before saying, 'But I do think we can do better than that in the long run.'
'Why don't I like the sound of that?' she retorted then settled down for the journey.
It wasn't all that late by the time they got home but they both seemed tired. Sam frogmarched Sheelagh to the sofa then went to make coffee. Returning, she found Sheelagh's eyelids drooping and noiselessly placed the cups on the end table before creeping across to the stereo and finding the perfect CD. Her efforts at being quiet weren't entirely successful but the look of love on Sheelagh's face when she turned back just as Ella Fitzgerald began singing was beyond beautiful. Sam joined her on the sofa and swept a stray hair from her face.
'You're gorgeous,' she said quietly.
Sheelagh blushed. 'How much did you have to drink again?'
'Oh, yeah, that's it, I'm drunk.'
Smiling, she leaned forward and kissed her, slowly at first then with a little more determination as the song reached its crescendo. She could feel Sheelagh yielding more with every moment and the reaction in her own body was profound. This wasn't enough, she knew that, but she was enjoying the promise as much as she had the fantasy of their relationship earlier in the year. Drawing back, she met Sheelagh's eye and swallowed hard.
'Is this normality?' asked Sheelagh in a whisper.
Sam kissed her again. 'I hope so.'
With a few decisions made, she slept far better than she had a right to. The next morning she was raring to get to work, noting Sheelagh's amused exasperation the entire time and playing up to it a little. Yeah, her job was important to her it was a secondary concern at the moment. If she got the impression Sheelagh was at all annoyed by her focus, she would've changed course instantly but, if there was going to be normality, it would invariably involve mornings like this.
Sheelagh tossed her the car keys as they left. 'You drive. I'm still half-asleep.'
'I know when you're lying,' Sam warned.
'I like seeing you with a sense of purpose, that's all,' Sheelagh replied. 'And, believe me, as soon as it starts to get on my nerves, you'll be the first to know.'
'Glad to hear it,' she said, risking a kiss in the middle of the street. 'Come on, I don't wanna be late.'
Chuckling, Sheelagh rounded the car to the passenger seat. 'Fat chance of that.'
The journey was pleasant, though separating with Sheelagh in the front office was less palatable. It struck her that they were playing with fire a little, coming in together every day and it probably needed to stop. Even the dolts in uniform might find something to gossip about if they weren't careful and, with Abi missing, they didn't need the chatter. Nevertheless, she liked seeing Sheelagh's eyes catch on hers before they parted for the day. In the last year or so, she'd become such a soppy romantic that she barely recognised herself.
She hadn't been sat down long when Manson approached to let her know that a group of runaways had been spotted at Kings Cross last night and, initially, they'd thought Abi might be one of them. It was no surprise to her that it wasn't the case but she appreciated his consideration under the circumstances. The Neil Manson she'd first encountered in January would've taken pleasure in her suffering but they'd come to an understanding now. She wouldn't say she liked him but letting go of her ambitions for his job and focusing on something more important had worked wonders for their relationship.
'Well, thanks for letting me know, Guv,' she said. 'It's reassuring to know people are still looking.'
'Yeah,' he replied with an attempt at a smile.
When he disappeared she dropped Sheelagh a text to let her know about that non-development then focused on her paperwork as best she could. It felt good to be back in the saddle properly, determined as she was to try living her life until the next lead came through about Abi.
It was early afternoon before she knew it. There was a little voice at the back of her head reminding her to eat lunch and she was about to succumb to it when a hand touched her shoulder.
'You need to come with me,' Sheelagh muttered.
Immediately, her stomach coiled. The expression on Sheelagh's face when she glanced up was grim and she might've fallen out of her chair if it hadn't been for the slight pressure placed on her arm. In as innocuous a manner as possible, Sheelagh led her to the DI's office, even as she was running through all the horrific scenarios this could suggest. Just last night they'd agreed that this was someone's game – what strings were they pulling now?
Manson was sat behind his desk. He must've called Sheelagh to come up, Sam realised; another bad sign. Why would he do that if this wasn't the worst-case scenario? Her eyes sought out Sheelagh as she closed the door, finding her lips pinched and forehead furrowed. With extreme difficulty, she turned her attention back to Manson.
'You might wanna sit down,' he said.
'I'm fine,' she answered.
He looked briefly to Sheelagh then said, 'Okay.'
'It's about Abi, isn't it?' Sam asked when he failed to continue.
'A body's been washed up on the mud flats,' he answered. 'Near where her clothes were found. We don't know for sure whether it's her.'
For a moment, she wavered from side to side then she felt Sheelagh's hand against her spine and it grounded her. 'I've gotta go down there.'
'Samantha, I want you to stay here,' he insisted.
Sheelagh cleared her throat. 'With all due respect, Sir, that's not going to happen. I'll take her down there myself.'
'That's not a good idea,' he said. 'Unless it's escaped your notice, PC Murphy, you're shaking yourself.'
Glancing sideways sharply, Sam found that to be an accurate assessment and groped for Sheelagh's hand. Whatever was going through Manson's head at the moment, he wisely kept it buttoned and Sam tried to draw strength from Sheelagh's touch. She was trying to concentrate on the feeling in the pit of her stomach, the feeling that wasn't anything like she expected it to be right now. Looking into Sheelagh's eyes, she attempted to convey that and maybe she got through because her partner inclined her head and twisted back towards Manson.
'Sir,' she said, 'can I ask DS Hunter to take us?'
'Yes,' Manson murmured and that was all it took for Sam to give way and bolt out of the door.
A few minutes later she found herself in the back of a car with Sheelagh clutching her hand and the scenery whizzing by the window. It took her a while to realise that it was blurred thanks to her tears then a tissue was pressed into her hands unbidden. Although she couldn't glance sideways, she knew she didn't need to.
'How we doing back there?' Phil asked in an unrecognisable voice.
'We're okay,' Sheelagh answered.
Were they wrong? That question reverberated through Sam's mind on that long journey. They'd come to the conclusion that Abi wasn't dead and she was steadfastly holding to that all the way to the mud flats. Why wasn't the idea of a body down there gnawing through her chest? Was it just outright denial? The only real point of reference she had on this was Sheelagh and Niamh but it was a vivid point of reference. She was right with what she'd said after the suicide email had come through – she'd felt the loss of Niamh on the way to the hospital and she didn't feel that loss now. If she was wrong, if this body was Abi... She'd never be able to forgive herself for knowing about Niamh and not knowing about Abi.
The mud flats came into view suddenly and she jolted in her seat. Sheelagh's grip on her hand tightened and Sam finally risked a look sideways. She half-wished she hadn't but, on the other hand, she recognised they were in this together again. That in itself was a bad thing.
'I'm sorry,' Sam said softly.
Sheelagh frowned and cupped her cheek. 'What do you mean?'
'I shouldn't be putting you through this,' she answered. 'You don't deserve it, not again.'
'You don't think it's her, do you?' Sheelagh questioned.
She shook her head. 'That's not the point. I don't want –'
Breaking her off with a stern kiss, Sheelagh replied, 'You don't get to push me away, even if it's for my own good. Understood?'
'Understood,' she echoed, searching out the love she so desperately needed in Sheelagh's eyes and latching onto it. Burrowing into her arms, she allowed herself a few tears then took a couple of deep breaths when the car drew to a halt. As she pulled back, Sheelagh pressed another kiss to her lips before opening the door and urging her out onto the pavement.
The stench of the river washed over her like a grubby wave. It struck her before it did Sheelagh that the flats would be swarming with their colleagues and she made a deliberate decision to draw away, softening the action with a grateful look that Sheelagh interpreted perfectly. Close, but not touching, they followed Phil down the slippery steps to the flats, the scene feeling almost as though she was viewing it through a telescope. She swallowed hard and concentrated on the figure tossed up against tide markers and crumpled around them like a rag doll. Yes, she was blonde but her face was obscured by one of the markers and her naked form wasn't easily identifiable from a distance. The officers around them included PCs Young and Hemmingway but Sam glided past them without a second glance. Right now, she just needed to know.
Feeling Sheelagh on her heels, she approached the body and kneeled opposite the SOCO attending the body. Even though her gut still told her this wasn't Abi, she was shuddering and she could sense Sheelagh's urge to reach out and comfort her. That gave her the strength to look into the face of the young girl thrown onto the mud like rubbish.
'It isn't Abi,' she murmured.
The exhalation of relief came from Phil first and their Sun Hill colleagues second. She didn't hear one from Sheelagh, nor did she manage one herself. Instead, a few tears slipped down her cheeks as she looked at the young woman lying dead in front of her. She'd seen her fair share of bodies, of course, but this was different. The pressure of Sheelagh's hand on her shoulder brought her back to reality and she let herself be helped up. That was acceptable contact under the circumstances and the glint she caught in Sheelagh's eye told her she didn't need to explain where her head was at.
Although Sheelagh let her towards the steps, she didn't encourage her up them. It was as if she knew she needed to be here to see this. SOCO were about ready to take the body away after cataloguing the scene and Sam was transfixed.
'Come on,' Phil said. 'Come away.'
She shrugged him off testily. 'I don't need nannying.'
'Sam...' Sheelagh said quietly. 'It's okay.'
'I feel guilty,' she muttered.
'What about?' queried Phil.
'I knew straight away it wasn't Abi,' she explained. 'And the relief... I can't describe it.'
'I don't understand,' Phil said and she glanced to the one person who understood what she meant.
'It's still someone's daughter,' Sheelagh replied with a pained smile. 'It doesn't matter that she's not ours, she still belongs to someone. Come on, darling,' she said in a lower voice, 'we've seen enough.'
Acquiescing, she allowed herself the briefest squeeze of Sheelagh's hands before she purposefully climbed the steps. She knew that Sheelagh would catch her if she slipped and she kept clear of the green rail. Stepping onto the pavement at the top felt like stepping into another world. The significant part was that all the Sun Hill crowd were down below so, when she stumbled to some nearby steps, Sheelagh was able to drop a kiss onto her head without compunction. Sam slumped onto the stone steps, groping for Sheelagh's hand and finding it ready and waiting.
Phil cleared his throat. 'Coffee?'
'Yeah,' Sheelagh said. 'Both white, one sugar.'
Sam almost smiled at the way he jumped to the task, walking the short distance to a refreshment van and making small talk with whoever was behind the counter. She watched him partly in order to calm her mind but also because she was scared to look at Sheelagh until she'd independently sorted out her thoughts. They needed to come to their own conclusions before they cross-contaminated.
Then Sheelagh questioned, 'Would you mind terribly if I sat down?'
Sam snorted and nudged herself up, grateful to feel Sheelagh's body fit snugly in next to hers. 'How are you doing?'
'It should be me asking you that,' Sheelagh replied.
'We're in this together, remember?' Sam returned. 'I've told you, I need to know when you're hurting and I think you are right now, sweetheart.'
Biting her lip, Sheelagh nodded. 'We're both shaken up, that's all.'
'Come here,' Sam muttered, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. At the moment, she wouldn't care if the entirety of Sun Hill waltzed past and started gossiping – her priority was Sheelagh. As such, she kissed her cheek and inhaled her perfume deeply. 'Thank you for being honest.'
Sheelagh's head rested against her shoulder. 'Thank you for being you.'
'Occupational hazard,' she answered. 'What do you think then?'
'I'm not sure I...' Sheelagh paused then her voice altered. 'Maybe you could hold that thought.'
She was about to question why when she saw Hugh getting out of his car and she instantly understood. What he was doing here, she didn't know, but she knew what her reaction had to be. Until she'd ordered her thoughts, he couldn't help anyway and, even after that, the first person she needed to confer with was Sheelagh.
'Sam?' he queried as he stopped in front of them. The question was directly solely at her, even though Sheelagh's face was barely an inch away and that really didn't seem right. 'I just heard.'
'It isn't her,' Sam told him stiffly.
'Is there anything I can do?' he asked.
Phil had appeared out of nowhere with two coffee cups. 'Here you are, ladies.'
'Thank you,' said Sam before looking back to Hugh. 'No, I'm okay.'
'You can't be,' he argued. 'Not after a shock like that.'
The cup was burning through her skin. She deliberately placed another kiss on Sheelagh's cheek then stood and reached back to help her up. The disdain on Hugh's face was palpable, even though she felt as if she could punch him for it right now. He'd managed to hurt Sheelagh before with his insensitivity and Sam wasn't going to let it happen again.
'We're okay,' she said. 'Thank you for coming to check on us.'
Hugh's brow creased. 'How can you be so calm? I know I've told you to focus on the facts, Samantha, but this isn't normal. You need to react. At least it should galvanise you.'
'Do you think she needs galvanising?' Sheelagh demanded. 'We know what's at stake here.'
'Do you?' he questioned. 'Then why are you sat around drinking coffee while her daughter's missing?'
Sheelagh bristled and stepped forward. 'We both care about Abigail and we're doing our best to find her.'
'Your best alone may not be good enough,' Hugh retorted. 'You need help; professional help.'
'Your help, I presume,' replied Sheelagh.
'Yes, as it happens,' he said. 'Have you done anything with the documentation I left you or have you been too busy –'
'Hugh,' Sam interrupted coldly, 'if you want to help, I'm grateful for it. I can use that but I don't want your judgement. Not now, not ever. Do we understand each other?'
Finally, he nodded. 'I'll see you back at the station then. Unless you want a lift?'
'No, mate,' Phil put in. 'I got this.'
Hugh pivoted on his heel then swung back to face her. 'Maybe it would help to talk about it properly.'
Sam snickered. 'You think I need counselling? Not exactly my style, Hugh.'
'I meant with a friend,' he said. 'I'm always ready to listen.'
'Thank you,' she replied, 'but I've got all the support I need in that respect. I'll see you back at the nick, okay?'
She headed towards Phil's car, knowing he and Sheelagh were close behind. The brisk breeze cleared her head further and by the time she slotted into the back seat beside Sheelagh her brain was creaking into gear. Phil started the engine and Sheelagh stretched a hand across onto her knee.
'Tell me,' she instructed.
Sam leaned in closer so that Phil couldn't hear more than a mumble. 'It's not a coincidence, is it? A girl that looks superficially like Abi turning up near where her clothes were found?'
'I don't believe in coincidence any more than you do,' Sheelagh said, 'not in this case. Until we know more, though, we'd be wise not to speculate.'
'Is that likely?' Sam questioned, raising an eyebrow.
'Well, no,' Sheelagh conceded, 'but I thought I should try. Look, darling, we need questions answered I'm not sure you're ready to hear. Whether that was Abi or not, it still felt like it might be, if only for a few seconds. I'm not saying you can't look at this objectively, I'm only saying I want – no, I need – you to be aware of what this might entail.'
She covered her hand. 'I have to see it through. It might be unconnected but it might be a step on the way to finding Abi. We have to pursue that.'
'I know, I know,' said Sheelagh. 'But if this is someone playing games, I'm scared. It's a massive escalation, isn't it?'
'You can sit this one out,' Sam answered after a moment.
'No,' Sheelagh insisted, 'no way. Now, think,' she continued. 'Get it clear in your head before we speak to the DI. If this is connected to Abi then we need to prove that to him, okay?'
Sam nodded and rested back in her seat. This time she was much more aware of all the roads they passed on the way to the station, cataloguing it all in her mind and calming herself down in the process. The questions she had were percolating nicely and Sheelagh didn't release her hand for the duration.
Hugh had beaten them back and was waiting outside the front office. The expression on his face was more conciliatory now, as though he'd straightened his head out on the journey and realised she was a victim here and not an obstructive investigating officer. It was an attitude she'd had to adjust to with Hugh over the years and she knew that she possessed similar qualities that were only just starting to soften thanks to Sheelagh's influence.
When they reached CID Hugh unhelpfully pointed out, 'You might have to go through what happened today again. It's best to be prepared.'
'I don't wanna hear this right now,' Sam warned.
To her relief, Phil tugged Hugh away and she was free to return to her desk with Sheelagh ever-present behind her. Craning her neck, she found Manson's office empty and let out a soft growl
Sheelagh perched on the edge of the desk. 'I need to get some food inside you.'
Smiling, Sam murmured, 'You always know...' She trailed off and looked up sharply. 'Maybe that's it. I need to find the DI. Knowing him, he'll have a contact.'
'Sure, let's go,' Sheelagh said and Sam shot her another smile. Anybody else would ask for an explanation but not Sheelagh; she just ran with it.
Phil put out an arm before they could pass. 'Hey, where are you two running off to?'
'Find the DI,' Sheelagh explained.
'We'll come with you,' Hugh suggested.
Sam held up a hand. 'I don't need a security detail, thank you. Sheelagh?'
'Coming, she replied, falling into step beside her as they passed through the doors.
After checking CSU, the canteen and custody, they eventually located Manson in discussion with PC Dunbar in the front office. On seeing them, he dismissed Andrea and gestured them into the front interview room.
'Phil sent me a text,' he said as he closed the door. 'It's good news, Samantha.'
'Yes, Guv,' she answered. 'I realise that, I do, but I need a favour.'
He crossed his arms. 'Go on.'
To her dismay, she faltered. It wasn't anything to do with the strength of her sudden conviction that, if there was a connection, this was it; no, it was a selfish consideration that she was about to divulge aspects of her personal life to a man who she still disliked and mistrusted. Maybe if Jack wasn't recovering in hospital, the words would come easier but nothing was straightforward where Manson was concerned and she was abruptly anxious about whether he was going to kick off about the reality of her relationship with Sheelagh. She hated herself for that impulse.
'The thing is, Sir,' Sheelagh said after a few seconds, 'we wondered if you had a contact in the Marine Support Unit or something. We'd like to know if that body could've been dumped in the river yesterday evening to wash up as it did.'
Sam nearly gave herself whiplash looking at Sheelagh but found her girlfriend focused completely on Manson. She shook herself and turned her own attention back to his frown.
'This girl wasn't Abigail,' he pointed out. 'It's not connected to your case.'
'Maybe, maybe not,' Sheelagh replied. 'It feels too coincidental for my liking. I want to keep an open mind until we've received confirmation of her identity. In the grand scheme of things, this one question we want answering isn't much but it could give us a lead. Please, Sir, if there's any way we don't have to wait for one simple answer that hypothetically links this poor girl to Abi's disappearance, we'd be really grateful.'
Manson glanced between them then said, 'I've got a contact in the river police. You wait here, I'll give him a call.'
'Thank you, Sir,' Sheelagh said.
With a brisk nod, he left and Sam moved to close the door behind him. When she turned back to Sheelagh she saw the fatigue in her face that a deferential encounter with Manson had triggered and gestured for them to sit down. Instead of taking opposing sides of the desk, though, they both ended up on one side, knees pressed together.
'So when did you take up mind-reading?' Sam asked conversationally.
Sheelagh chuckled. 'Did you underestimate me, DS Nixon?'
'Afraid so,' she said.
'I'm just well-versed, that's all,' Sheelagh continued, surreptitiously squeezing her knee. 'Besides, I find it as odd as you do that last night we were talking about carrying on with our lives and wondering if it might flush out whoever's responsible then this happens today. If the body could've been dumped in the river after that then it's possible there's a connection.'
'Mind-reading,' Sam repeated with a warm smile. 'I hope there isn't one, you know. I mean, then we get into murky waters – pardon the pun.'
'Pardoned,' said Sheelagh. 'But the obvious conclusion isn't the only one, darling. There's the suicide website angle for a start – it's entirely possible that this girl's another person Abi met on there. She could even be the anomalous phone number, she could be the accomplice.'
'This is great,' Sam returned, 'I don't need to talk anymore.'
'Definite plus,' Sheelagh commented.
Sam swatted her arm but said nothing. They descended into silence, waiting for Manson to come back, and she found herself more able to contemplate the ramifications of this morning. It was, as Sheelagh said, one heck of a coincidence that they'd decided to carry on living last night and this body washed up today. If the timescale fit, however, they had a tangible lead and they both knew where they'd be going next.
'If you want to talk this over with Hugh, I don't mind,' Sheelagh said suddenly. 'He might be able to help.'
Sam glanced at her. 'At the moment, we don't know anything. He hates this kind of speculation, I'm better off waiting till we've got some concrete facts to show him. And, in the meantime, we're doing okay, right?'
'Of course,' answered Sheelagh.
If any further conversation was needed, Manson's return impeded it. Both of them stood up to greet him, the expression on his face as impassive as ever.
'It's feasible –probable, even – that the body ended up in the river last night,' he said. 'And there's something else. Now, this is off the record, okay?'
'Yes, Guv,' Sam said promptly.
'According to my source, the initial suggestion is that she was dead before she hit the water,' he said. 'We'll have to wait for confirmation on that but does that hold with whatever theory you two are cooking up?'
'It might,' said Sheelagh.
'Can I be let in on it?' he queried.
Sam looked sideways then steeled herself. 'We went for a meal last night, Guv. We're trying to find some road back to normality until we come up with another lead.'
'Well, I won't criticise you for that,' he said. 'But what's this gotta do with the girl?'
'Maybe nothing,' she admitted, 'but I'd like to follow up at the bar please. Check reservations, CCTV, talk to the staff. While it's fresh, that's all.'
For a moment, he thought about it before telling Sheelagh, 'You'd better clear it with Inspector Gold first. I know she okayed you staying with DS Nixon this morning, but I can't indefinitely detain her officers on wild goose chases.'
'Yes, Sir,' Sheelagh answered. Meeting Sam's eye, she said, 'I'll be right back.'
Sam just nodded and tried not to overtly watch her leave. That didn't matter much. While she'd expected Manson to disappear, he instead closed the door again and surveyed her.
'Your relationship with PC Murphy –' he began.
'Guv, this is hardly the time,' she interrupted.
'I'm not trying to pry,' he replied. 'I was just going to say that these are exceptional circumstances, okay? I understand you're upset, that emotions are heightened. All I want from you is an assurance that when this situation is resolved you'll both be able to work in a professional manner consistent with what I expect of Sun Hill officers.'
She stared at him. 'Yes. We're both professionals and we can do this.'
'We'll resume this conversation at a future date then,' he said. 'Any developments, I wanna know and I'll extend the same courtesy, all right?'
When she inclined her head again he finally left and she spent five minutes prowling around the small interview room. It occurred to her that, for politeness's sake, she should climb the stars and inform Hugh that she was going out chasing a lead but she didn't. If she told him about her suspicions that she and Sheelagh were being watched last night then she'd have to explain to less forgiving ears why she felt it best to try and continue her life while Abi was missing. The days she'd spent with him going over the evidence weighed heavy on her memory – they should've been so effective but they hadn't been. The far more effective investigations came when it was just her and Sheelagh and they were working in perfect unison. To get anywhere today they'd have to harness that as effectively as they ever had.
Sheelagh popped her head through the door and they were away. It was a toss-up about who was more ill-equipped to drive at the moment so Sam gestured for the keys, mostly to remind Sheelagh she didn't have to be completely strong right now. The route they'd driven last night was snarled up with more traffic today but they didn't exchange much beyond the odd remark. It didn't seem like they needed to.
The bar was open but deathly quiet. They walked in and Barry nearly jumped out of his skin when they found him sat slumped over a crossword puzzle.
'You need a daytime clientele,' Sam warned as he leapt up.
'We're working on it,' he answered. 'Though with you two dropping in day and night, we might survive on the wages of the Metropolitan Police. Table for two?'
'Afraid not,' she said. 'This isn't a social call. Don't worry,' she assured him when his face fell, 'it's bad news for me, not you. My daughter's missing, you might have seen her face on posters.'
He switched feet. 'I was trying to be considerate not mentioning it.'
Stepping forward, Sheelagh said, 'That was good of you, thanks. The truth is, we're trying to live with it as best we can but there's a chance that we were watched here last night. As two police officers, could we take a peek at the receipts and the CCTV? I know it's not exactly procedure but –'
'Course you can,' Barry interrupted. 'Chef'd say the same. Come on, we'll have a look through.'
It was a novelty when a member of the public wanted to help but Sam had to admit it was nice having people on her side. While she sat down with a stack of till receipts from last night, Sheelagh went with Barry to look through the CCTV tapes. From the way he was flirting as they rounded the corner, Sam seriously considered going after them to flash her warrant card and remind him that she was practically paying his wages at the moment then reminded herself it was just his way. He'd been flirting with her for weeks before she'd showed up here with Sheelagh the first time and he'd finally got the point, just as everyone else had with barely a glance.
The number of people who'd eaten alone last night wasn't large and only one of them was in the correct time frame. She had a little more luck with the people who'd had a drink but hadn't eaten anything. She noted down a few timestamps and went to find Sheelagh in the back office. As she approached she heard voices through the open door.
'I'm just saying, she's a real –'
'Careful how you finish that sentence,' Sheelagh cut in, her voice laced with amusement.
'Catch,' Barry concluded after a moment. 'I was going to say catch.'
Sheelagh laughed. 'What about the CCTV out front? Is there any?'
'Car park,' he replied. 'Gimme a second. In the meantime, why don't you tell me a story?'
Stifling her grin, Sam pushed the door open fully and leaned against it. 'I could tell a story about an eating establishment with some very nosy waiting staff.'
Barry grimaced. 'Noted. I'll get that tape.'
'Hang on,' she said, holding up the list of times. 'Check these on the internal cameras first.'
Nothing came of those – they were all women waiting for their dates who were paired off as soon as they turned up. The car park CCTV was a little more interesting though. A figure arrived on foot not long after they'd arrived, face obscured by a hood and completely unidentifiable. Sam focused as hard as she could but, while it could be Abi's accomplice, it could just as easily be Abi bulked up to look like someone else. It wasn't an interpretation she found particularly appealing or, for that matter, particularly plausible. Whoever Abi had involved in this was in charge now and seemed to have an interest in not allowing Abi to see that Sam had finally acted on her love for Sheelagh. One thing that she felt certain of was that if Abi knew then she'd be home – or she'd be making herself known at least. Who could have that kind of power over her?
'Sorry I couldn't be more help,' Barry said as they walked back into the bar. 'You wait here; I'll pick those sandwiches up from the kitchen.'
Sam rolled her eyes, watching him disappear. 'You're persistent, I'll give you that.'
'It's one of my better traits,' Sheelagh answered. 'Listen, I've had a thought. Would you let me run with it and explain later?'
'Course,' she answered without hesitation then she tilted her head to the side. 'Unless that means I have to walk back to the nick.'
'I think I can stretch to dropping you off first,' Sheelagh said. 'It'll give me chance to make sure you eat this sandwich.'
Yes, she was curious, but she recognised they'd been through a lot today already and she trusted Sheelagh where she wouldn't trust anyone else. She knew there'd be a good reason why she was keeping her in the dark and, to be honest, she liked having someone take a little bit of the pressure from her shoulders. That said, after they took their leave of Barry and returned to the car, she stopped Sheelagh starting the engine with a hand to her cheek.
'Sweetheart,' she said seriously, 'I need to know if you're okay.'
Sheelagh leaned forward to kiss her. 'Every time you ask me that I want to... Is that part of your plan?'
'It wasn't but it is now,' she quipped. Running her thumb over Sheelagh's lower lip, she went on, 'I don't mean to be clingy, I'm just worried about you, that's all.'
'That's not clingy,' Sheelagh argued. 'It's beautiful. Only I need to follow this up on my own, maybe for my benefit as much as yours, okay?'
Sam couldn't help but kiss her again. 'Anything you want. Wherever you want. Whenever you want.'
Inhaling deeply, Sheelagh drew back. 'Eat that sandwich before I do something I'll regret. Or not regret,' she amended as she started the engine. 'Oh, just eat it.'
The journey was tinged with something other than the confusion and concentration it should be under the circumstances. Sam was almost relieved that there were separating at the nick, although her body repelled against it. She watched Sheelagh drive off and crumpled the sandwich wrapper into her palm with more than a little frustration. A couple of seconds later she doused that under the memory of that poor girl on the flats and she returned to CID feeling the same flash of agony for the mother who was going to have to go through pain once her daughter was identified. Sheelagh had been right earlier – she didn't need galvanising but this was focusing her energies. It wasn't just about Abi anymore, if it ever had been. Tess Garvey had been dragged into it, that website customer from Barlett's had been implicated and now this girl had washed up. If there was a connection and any semblance of a plan then it was hurting other people. This couldn't just be Abi; Sam refused to believe that.
'Thought you'd done a runner on me,' Phil said when she sat down.
She shook her head. 'Following up a lead with Sheelagh. Don't worry – the DI okayed it.'
'Any luck?' he asked.
'Nope,' she answered. 'She's following up something else and I thought I'd better show my face. Did Hugh leave?'
'Yeah, he got a call and had to go,' Phil replied. 'He said he might pop back. We were a bit worried when you disappeared like that.'
'Sorry,' she said sincerely. 'Tunnel vision, you know?'
He accepted her apology with a half-smile then looked back to his paperwork. She wasn't completely fooled – she knew for the next few hours he kept shooting her surreptitious glances to check she was okay, usually immediately after she shot a glance towards the door in search of Sheelagh.
Eventually, she and Phil were the only ones left and she'd admit she was starting to worry a little. When the door opened she looked over eagerly but it wasn't Sheelagh and her heart sank.
'Hugh,' she said, 'what are you doing back here?'
'I just wanted to make sure you weren't working yourself into the ground,' he answered. 'You disappeared pretty quickly earlier and I was worried.'
'We got a lead,' she said, rolling her shoulders. 'It didn't amount to anything but we had to run with it.'
'Of course you did,' he returned. 'I'm glad to see you making any progress you can. Do you want to discuss it?'
'Actually, I still haven't got it clear,' she replied. 'Maybe we could meet for coffee in a couple of days? I'd value your input, Hugh, I really would. It's just that at the moment I can't hold a thought in my brain for long enough to analyse it.'
'Well, that's where I come in,' he said with a smile. 'Come on, Sam, let me take some of the weight off your mind. We were making progress before, there's no reason why we can't continue with that.'
Although she detected Phil's scepticism across the desk, she said, 'I'd appreciate that.'
'And you should go home, you know,' Hugh went on. 'I'd be happy to drive you.'
'I'm fine,' she assured him. 'I'm waiting for...'
The ease on his face faded. 'Sheelagh. I have to say, I'm surprised at all that.'
Phil cleared his throat. 'Wouldn't have thought it was any of your business, mate.'
'Is it yours?' Hugh queried coolly.
'The only people it concerns are me, Sheelagh and our kids,' Sam interjected. 'Now, please, leave it.'
Her words were more for Hugh's benefit than Phil's and she saw the flicker of understanding in Phil's face as she made to turn off her computer. Despite not having her car, she made the sudden decision to go somewhere secluded – the ladies' loo maybe – and call Sheelagh to find out what was going on. While she was thinking all this, Hugh stood there watching her in that narrow way of his. Part of her wanted to have this out with him here and now but she'd had one hell of a day and she could really do with Sheelagh by her side when she had this conversation with him. Anxiety about Sheelagh's escapades this afternoon was already rippling at the back of her mind anyway and she craved the sight of her face just to allay that particular fear.
Fortunately, the door opened again and it was her girlfriend who entered, harried but gorgeous. Sam automatically stood to greet her and was aware that she probably looked like a love-struck teenager to Hugh and Phil. It didn't bother her too much though.
'We're ready then,' she said in order to scatter questions from any angle. 'I'll just grab my coat.'
Sheelagh barely reacted to the suggestion they were acting on previous arrangements and simply smiled. It took a matter of seconds for Sam to collect her things and join her at the door, even though she paused to glance over her shoulder.
'Thanks for being so worried about me today, both of you,' she said. 'It's good to know you're on my side.'
'Always,' Hugh replied. 'Look after yourself.'
Niceties over, she escaped from CID with Sheelagh beside her. Despite her raging curiosity, she stemmed any questions until they were safely ensconced in the gloom of the car. Then she found herself on the receiving end of a searing kiss that left her slightly stunned. When Sheelagh drew back her eyes were dark and Sam wanted nothing more than to drive home and take her straight to bed. This wasn't forced, it was completely natural and it was entirely mutual.
Sheelagh rested their foreheads together. 'This is what temptation feels like.'
With a sigh, Sam murmured, 'That's a no then.'
'I promise you, if we didn't have bigger things to worry about...' Sheelagh kissed her once more then deliberately pulled away. 'We're leaving first thing in the morning.'
'Excuse me?' she questioned. 'Where are we going?'
'On a fishing expedition, maybe nothing more than that,' Sheelagh explained as she started the engine. 'Something's been troubling me,' she continued. 'All this talk about an accomplice – we were missing a vital piece of the puzzle. Why? Why would somebody help Abi to do this? We've talked to all her friends, everyone that we know she's been in contact with and come up with nothing. It has to be someone she trusts, doesn't it? Yet why no mention of me in...anything? It doesn't make sense.'
'You've got a theory,' Sam said, the words burning her throat.
'I went to every hotel we've already canvassed,' said Sheelagh, 'but I was asking a different question. I looked at the guest rosters for the day that you arrested Craig Olson and I found something interesting. Glenn was checked into the Cromer Hotel for a week encompassing that date.'
Sam gaped at her. 'You have to be kidding. Why the hell didn't I check on him?'
'Because nothing pointed to it,' Sheelagh replied. 'At first you were looking for information on a runaway. Glenn wasn't part of that equation and you said he wasn't interested when you called.'
'No, he wasn't,' Sam agreed. 'I told you, he was dismissive, he just said she'd...turn up. They haven't got a relationship, Sheelagh, I didn't...'
'Hey,' Sheelagh said sternly, pressing a hand onto her knee, 'this isn't about things we should or shouldn't have thought about earlier. It's a lead and we're following it up, okay?'
Sam winced. 'I can't just waltz off to Cumbria for a couple of days – neither can you.'
'Actually, we can,' answered Sheelagh. 'I've spoken to Gina and the DI. They know exactly where we're going. I've tons of leave owing and the DI's appreciative that you keep bringing your paperwork up the date so he doesn't mind.'
'Hang on a minute,' Sam said. 'You've told them exactly where we're going?'
'Sure,' Sheelagh replied. 'We're going to Cumbria to talk to Glenn about the disappearance of his daughter.'
Snickering, Sam stretched a hand across to stroke her hair. 'You're very sneaky and I love you for it. What's the plan?'
'We need to drop in at mine and pack a bag,' said Sheelagh, 'then we'll set off first thing. It's a long drive and this thing's a bit of a wreck so I thought we'd take your car. We're booked into a B&B near Ambleside tomorrow and I cold-called the house to make sure he's there. We're all set.'
'You've thought of everything,' Sam said.
'For all we know, it's a wild goose chase,' Sheelagh said with a shrug, 'but I'd like to ask him what he was doing in London for a start. It doesn't completely add up, sure, but it's worth a try. At the very least, he might've seen her when he was down here. It seems strange if he didn't.'
Sam nodded then they lapsed into silence for the rest of the journey. Her mind was fully occupied running over the scant information Sheelagh had given her. Why hadn't she thought to check Glenn's alibi properly? She'd discounted his relationship with Abi precisely because, as she'd said, they didn't have one. Nothing they'd learned since Abi's disappearance had suggested Glenn was involved. This had been triggered by her reticence over Sheelagh, surely. That was the only thing that made sense. Unless, of course, that had been Abi's motivation and Glenn had co-opted things. He was certainly intelligent enough to organise something as involved as this disappearance seemed to be, though there were elements of it that seemed far too sick for a parent to be involved in. While the webcam business was long-standing, the decision to utilise a potential client as a decoy wasn't something that should've come easy. Equally, the suicide website, encouraging other young people to kill themselves went against the nature of a parent. Even if Glenn wasn't exactly father material, surely he couldn't countenance that.
Her musings were interrupted by their arrival at Sheelagh's. They were switching cars here and she felt as though she should at least talk to Connor considering how often she was stealing his mum away recently. She owed him another thank you for the other night anyway.
Although it wasn't polite to say, the house smelled a little funny when they stepped inside. She raised an eyebrow and glanced to Sheelagh but she was already ahead of her, checking the soles of every pair of trainers in the hallway and coming up with gold, so to speak. Gingerly opening the door again, Sheelagh tossed the blue pair onto the grass then left the door ajar to disperse the smell.
'Boys,' she muttered. 'And you can stop laughing.'
'I wasn't,' Sam lied, her voice muffled by her hand. 'Anyway, how could you even tell?'
'I always know,' Sheelagh retorted. Then she took off into the house, yelling, 'Connor Murphy – get here now!'
Sam chuckled as she followed her through to the kitchen and took a seat at the table. To her surprise, Connor answered the summons, sheepish footsteps tramping down the stairs before he popped his head through the door. From the look of his hair, he'd just rolled out of bed, even if it was only just after eight.
'Hi,' he said. 'Wasn't expecting you.'
'What have I told you about wiping your feet?' Sheelagh demanded. 'You must've smelt that when you took them off.'
He looked blank. 'What am I meant to have done? Hi, Sam.'
'Hi,' she replied.
'Don't suck up to her,' Sheelagh warned. 'Dog poo, blue trainers, hallway.'
'I haven't got any blue trainers,' he said, glancing to Sam. 'Is she losing it or something?'
She snickered. 'Leave me out of this, thanks.'
Frowning, Sheelagh tilted her head to the side. 'Blue trainers... Wait a minute, are you telling me Declan came round just to dump some smelly trainers in my hallway?'
'Erm, no,' Connor answered. 'He also left a bag of ironing in the living room before you blame that on me as well.'
'So, wait,' Sheelagh said, 'you haven't done anything wrong?'
He scratched his head. 'Not recently.'
'Brilliant,' she returned, planting a kiss on his cheek then pulling him into a hug. 'So I'm not mad at you?'
'Apparently not,' Connor said as he tried to prise himself away. 'Sam, get her off me.'
Grinning, she suggested, 'Offer to put the kettle on.'
'Mum, Mum, I've got an idea,' he said, dodging out of her grasp. 'How about I put the kettle on?'
Sheelagh looked between them indulgently. 'You two behave yourselves. I'm off to get some things together.'
'That's good,' said Connor. 'For a minute there I thought you were staying. I like having my own house, thank you very much.'
'Don't get used to it,' Sheelagh warned him. 'You'll be seeing more of us once we get back from our trip.'
'A trip?' He pivoted towards the table. 'Do we need to have the talk, DS Nixon?'
Sheelagh finally crossed the threshold. 'I think I'm gonna sit this one out. I won't be long.'
They both watched her go then Connor cleared his throat and set about making the tea. Sam smiled at the similarities between mother and son until she realised he was ever-so-slightly uncomfortable right now.
'We've got a lead on Abi,' she explained. 'We think her dad might know more than he's letting on so we're going up to Cumbria to have a chat with him. Frankly, I couldn't do it without your mum. She's been brilliant, Connor. And thank you,' she added, 'for giving me that kick up the backside. I needed it.'
'It's good to see her smiling,' he answered. 'I didn't realise how unhappy she'd been until I saw her with you. Even with everything that's going on, you're so comfortable together. It's...nauseating.'
'You and Abi are really gonna get on when we bring her home,' she said.
'I hope so,' he said. A minute later he placed the tea tray on the table and sat down. 'I'm looking forward to meeting her, you know.'
She smiled and poured her tea before examining him carefully. 'How's it going, Connor?'
'Not great,' he admitted after glancing towards the door. 'Don't get me wrong, Sam, I'm a lot happier than I was but it's still like there's a mountain to climb.'
'I can understand that,' she said. 'Just because you've made a start, doesn't mean it's gonna be easy now. You've got support though and, look, I know I've been monopolising your mum but she wants to help any way she can. Just tell us what we can do, okay?'
'I'll have a think,' he replied.
'We'll be around,' Sam promised. 'I'm sorry we haven't been lately.'
'No, it's been good in a way,' Connor said. 'I needed to get my head straight – pardon the expression.'
Sniggering, she sipped her tea. 'Pardoned.'
However long Sheelagh had been hovering in the hallway, she made her appearance now, breezing in and pouring herself a cup of tea. Sam noted the grin on Connor's face and she couldn't help but wonder what life would be like if Abi was here with them. There was still a long way to go, although it felt like they'd made a start on putting together some sort of family tonight, just through the medium of tea.
'When are you back?' Connor questioned when they rose.
'Day after tomorrow,' replied Sam. 'Can't say what time. Best make sure the house is clean, yeah?'
'No smelly shoes,' Sheelagh put in. 'Yours or Declan's.'
'Don't hold me responsible for him,' warned Connor. 'I've got enough on my plate.'
In the hallway, Sheelagh was fairly restrained, giving her son a brief hug and kissing him before taking her bag outside. Sam, however, lingered for a few moments, digging into her wallet and pulling out her card.
'That's my number,' she told him. 'I mean it when I say call me. Especially if it's something you'd rather not discuss with your mum, okay?'
He bit his lip as he took the card. 'Why?'
'Because I want to do this right,' she answered with a shrug. 'I care about your mum, I want to... Well, we don't know each other very well and I think we should, don't you?'
After a moment of hesitation, he hugged her. 'Thanks.'
When she pulled back she was blushing and rapidly made her escape. Sheelagh was waiting by the car with a strange expression on her face and Sam opened the car without comment. In the semi-darkness, she went through the motions of starting the engine, all the while trying not to look sideways.
'Do not cry,' she said firmly.
Sheelagh sniffed. 'I'm not.'
'Yeah, give it about twenty seconds,' Sam returned as they started along the road. 'Wait till we get out of sight, he's embarrassed enough as it is.'
A hand slid across onto her knee. 'You're good with him.'
'Why do you sound surprised?' she retorted.
'Stop deflecting,' Sheelagh said.
'Stop what?' she shot back and they spent the rest of the journey in companionable silence.
An early night resulted in far more pillow talk than sleep but Sam couldn't exactly complain. Those minutes curled up in the darkness together were fast becoming her favourite portion of the day, especially when they included an impromptu massage, albeit a fully-clothed one this time. Sheelagh had probably sensed as much as she had that they were both painfully close to tipping over the edge of the cliff and they would've likely plunged headlong into the abyss if they didn't have this prickly matter of Glenn to attend to tomorrow. They weren't dancing around the issue anymore; they were staring it in the face and openly denying themselves because it wasn't the right time. Falling asleep with Sheelagh coiled around her, Sam found herself longing for the right time to pop into view. Much more of this and they might both go out of their minds.
There were in no great hurry the next morning, not setting off until after rush hour. That gave them chance to enjoy breakfast together – while getting their questions for Glenn in order – before they set off. The trip was spent listening to various ABBA albums with Sheelagh shooting her amused looks from the passenger seat until they switched places halfway up. The closer they got to the Lakes, the angrier Sam got with Glenn and, really, she revelled in that emotion. It was something tangible she could work with and direct accordingly.
Glenn's house in Carlisle was more idyllic than she'd expected. In fact, it was far more idyllic than he deserved. It wasn't that she believed no one could redeem themselves but this felt too much like landing on his feet. The boy he'd killed never had the luxury of a life and she didn't appreciate the luxury of Glenn's right at this moment.
Perhaps Sheelagh's mind was running on the same track. She turned the engine off and tapped the steering wheel a few times. 'Are we agreed on how to play this?'
'Good cop, bad cop,' Sam replied.
'Just don't get confused,' warned Sheelagh. 'I know good cop doesn't come naturally to you.'
Rolling her eyes, she rested a hand on her arm. 'Before we go in, is there anything you feel like you need to know?'
Sheelagh hesitated. 'Is there anything still between you?'
'Just Abi,' Sam assured her. 'I promise you, that's all it's been for a long, long time. Now, come on, PC Murphy,' she continued briskly, 'I need your best bad cop routine – focus.'
'Yes, Sarge,' Sheelagh replied with a smile.
Although they were both anxious, it was seemingly easier for Sheelagh to fall into this as a strictly police matter. Sam watched her with more than a little admiration as she straightened her jacket and rang the doorbell. The thought that they were finally together struck her occasionally like a rather pleasant lightning strike and she barely managed to tear her gaze away from Sheelagh's profile when the door opened.
'Sam...' Glenn's face flickered, though she couldn't identify whether it was guilt or something else triggering it. 'What are you doing here?'
'It's about Abigail, Mr Weston,' Sheelagh said coolly. 'I'm PC Murphy. Can we come in?'
'Have you found her?' he asked. 'Is she okay?'
'Please, Glenn,' Sam replied, 'it's been a long journey. I need your help.'
He looked between them then stepped aside. As they'd agreed, Sheelagh took the lead, taking possession of the hallway as effectively as if she was wearing her uniform. Sam, conversely, hung back a little, her gaze skimming over the bare walls of the cottage. Glenn motioned them into the living room and muttered for them to sit down while he made them a drink. Neither of them followed the suggestion, Sheelagh's lip curling in a way that Sam wholeheartedly identified with. She herself took a look around and crossed to the mantelpiece. Instead of family pictures he had framed artworks, not a personal memento in sight. Abi had often complained that their home was devoid of personal touches and, perhaps it was, but Sam still suspected she'd won in comparison to Glenn. He'd been back in touch with his daughter for a year now and there wasn't an image of her anywhere. If it hadn't been for her prior arrangement with Sheelagh, she would've confronted him with that fact the moment he returned. As it was, she sat meekly down on the beige sofa beside Sheelagh, a little closer than necessary so that their legs were pressed together.
'You're worrying me now, Sam,' Glenn said as he passed over their cups.
'We haven't found her,' she answered quietly.
He exhaled. 'That's a relief.'
'Is it?' Sheelagh queried.
'Well, no,' he replied. 'Of course, I'd like her to be found safe and well but, when I opened the door, I thought... It's a long way to come to deliver good news, that's all.'
Sheelagh stared him out. 'I've got some questions for you, Mr Weston, if I may.'
Glancing to Sam, he frowned. 'What questions?'
'I'm just here observing,' she told him. 'PC Murphy was kind enough to let me come along, being that we work together. Strictly speaking, I shouldn't be anywhere near the case but I thought this should be done face-to-face.'
The confusion in his expression was tinged with something else. 'Fire away, PC Murphy. I'm happy to help if I can.'
'When was the last time you heard from Abigail?' Sheelagh asked after a deliberate pause.
'She called me once a month or thereabouts,' Glenn answered, 'but it's been longer than that since the last call.'
'Why?' questioned Sheelagh.
'We found it difficult,' he admitted with a glance at Sam. 'We talked but it was like we were strangers exchanging pleasantries. I missed one and that was that.'
'I see.' Sheelagh halted. 'What phone did you use to speak to her on?'
'The landline,' he said. 'She called me from the house. That's right, isn't it, Sam?'
She nodded. 'I saw them listed on the phone bill.'
'You never spoke to her from a mobile?' Sheelagh pressed. 'Do you have one?'
'I have one, yes,' he said. 'Abi doesn't have the number.'
It took all of Sam's self-restraint not to snort aloud. She knew Sheelagh sensed it from the way her leg tensed beside hers and she had to bury her eyes into her cup to adhere to their plan. If Glenn did know something more about Abi's disappearance then her wading in with her size nines would only aggravate the situation. For now, she needed him to think she was on his side and this was all coming from Sheelagh.
'Why is that?' Sheelagh questioned. 'She's your daughter. What happens if she needed to get in touch?'
'She didn't need me,' Glenn replied, looking to Sam again. 'She's just like you. That's why I'm not worried. I think she can look after herself, the same way you can.'
'Mr Weston, she's seventeen years old,' Sheelagh pointed out. 'Are you honestly telling me you're comfortable with her wandering around on her own, not having touched her bank accounts for weeks, completely off-radar? Do you think that's normal? Do you really think she's safe?'
He rubbed his forehead. 'What can I do? I'm a father in name only.'
'Let me repeat my earlier question,' said Sheelagh slowly. 'When was the last time you heard from Abigail?'
'I last spoke to her on the phone months ago,' he answered.
'That wasn't what I asked,' Sheelagh returned, a touch of anger in her voice. 'I know there's something you're not telling me – why do you think I'm here? You think I'd come all this way for a friendly chat in the middle of the investigation into Abi's disappearance?'
It had been the right call to play it like this, Sam realised. Glenn was looking over at her with a pained expression on his face, seeing her as an ally against Sheelagh the enemy. If only he knew. From that look, Sam suspected that he thought he understood the situation. He thought she'd fallen apart and was being dragged along in Sheelagh's wake like a ragdoll. Part of him evidently enjoyed seeing that and she tensed her leg against Sheelagh's once more to prevent her true thoughts spilling out. Had she ever really loved this man, horrific secret or no? Like she'd explained in the past, you couldn't love someone you didn't know and the stark reality was that there was only one person in this room who she knew completely and who knew her in return.
'Mr Weston?' Sheelagh prompted.
'We exchanged emails more than we talked,' he said finally. 'She set up a special email address for us, she thought when we first met each other that Sam might be spying on her. I told her that was rubbish,' he continued with another glance over, 'but I liked having a secret with her. It made me feel like she was more mine. Anyway, for a few months we got to know each other then...something changed.'
Sam clasped her hands on her lap. 'What do you mean?'
'We couldn't get beyond the superficial,' he said. 'And I got the impression that she was getting happier at home, that maybe you were seeing someone and she felt a bit more secure. The closer we got to the end of last year, the shorter they got, more perfunctory. We carried on with the calls but that was more for show than anything.'
'For show?' Sheelagh repeated.
'To prove to Sam we were still in contact,' he explained. 'We basically talked about the weather for twenty minutes a time. When I missed that call a few months ago I emailed an apology and that was that for a while. She didn't respond.'
'Go on,' said Sheelagh when he trailed off. 'What happened next?'
Sighing, he replied, 'I spent a week in London a few months ago. I emailed Abi, I thought we might be able to meet and that it might go better if we spoke face-to-face. You see, I had some news for her that I didn't want to write in an email.'
'What news?' Sam asked.
'I'm getting married,' he said, 'and we're emigrating early next year to be closer to her family.'
This time it was Sheelagh's leg that tensed against Sam's, almost as though she expected some sort of reaction, but, really, the news meant very little. Glenn could marry whoever he wanted but she suddenly saw how that news could've affected Abi given everything else that was going on at the time. The anger that bubbled through her was felt by Sheelagh and Sam recognised how she might adversely interpret the tremble. So, with the sense that their good cop/bad cop routine was at an end anyway, Sam reached for Sheelagh's hand and entwined their fingers. Glenn blinked but didn't draw attention to the motion.
'So you saw Abi then?' Sam questioned.
He inclined his head. 'She didn't get my email at first so we didn't make any plans. I'd left her the details of my itinerary and she tracked me down at the conference centre with this young lad in tow. He left us alone but she was in a strange mood. We didn't know each other well but she didn't seem herself. I tried talking to her, though it didn't make much of a difference. I couldn't get through to her and she didn't tell me anything.'
'How did she react to your news?' probed Sheelagh.
'She didn't,' he answered, 'not really. She was more preoccupied with something else. Was it you two?' he queried in a brittle voice, gesturing between them. 'Is that why she's run away, Sam?'
Bristling, she retorted, 'The last thing Abi has is a problem with our relationship, not that it's any of your concern actually. Now, where did you meet her and what time of day was it?'
'You haven't asked for the date,' he pointed out.
'It was the 27th,' she said. 'Time and place, Glenn.'
'Between two and three down on the Embankment,' he said.
Sam threw a despairing look at Sheelagh and saw the same frustration in her face. There was no way that Abi had withdrawn that money anywhere near there and the time frame didn't fit. It sounded as if she'd gone with Craig to see Glenn then gone somewhere else alone. They were still no closer to finding out who the mystery contact was – provided Glenn's story held water. However, she wasn't getting any warning flags from the expression on his face and she had plenty of experience in spotting when he was keeping something from her. He wasn't right now.
'Why didn't you tell me this before?' Sam demanded. While they'd been playing him, she'd been able to keep calm but now she was furious and she couldn't help but stand. 'Why tell me you hadn't heard from her?'
'Pride,' he snapped. 'I told my daughter the biggest news of my life and she wasn't interested. For all intents and purposes, we might as well have not seen each other.'
Growling, Sam said, 'She's a teenager. She might've been more interested in you getting married if you hadn't also told her you were moving even further away in the same conversation. Did you offer to introduce her to your fiancé?' she pressed. 'What was it you wanted apart from a pat on the back for telling her at all?'
'Sam,' Sheelagh said gently, rising and removing the cup from her hands before she broke the handle off. 'I think we've learned what we came here to. We need that email address you were communicating with,' she added with a glance at Glenn. 'And the details of your time in London to corroborate your story.'
'I'll write it down,' he murmured.
As he did that, Sam tried to school herself into calmness. Truth be told, her anger was as much with herself as it was with him. Both of them had excluded their daughter from their lives and the feeling that she'd pushed Abi away was never far from her mind. She needed to get out of this house – quickly.
Glenn passed Sheelagh a piece of notepaper then hesitated. 'You were the reason she was happier at home, weren't you? She wasn't interested in me anymore because she had a family.'
Sheelagh exchanged a glance with Sam then nodded. 'Yes.'
Perhaps it was simplistic but the complexities of their relationship weren't for Glenn's ears. That one word of Sheelagh's had swept away her anger and left in its wake a renewed determination to bring Abi home. This hadn't been a wasted journey, after all – they'd got more information on her movements that day and learned more about her frame of mind. This was all vital stuff.
'This is important, Glenn,' she said carefully. 'Now, did Abi say anything about where she was going next that day? It's highly likely that whoever she met then is involved in her disappearance.'
'No, she said nothing,' he replied. 'I wouldn't have kept it from you if she had.'
'I'd hope not,' Sheelagh answered. 'I really would. Thank you for your time. Sam?'
'Yep, I'm ready,' she said promptly. 'Bye, Glenn.'
Without delay, she followed Sheelagh out to the car, not sparing a look for Glenn. She was happy to get away from his little idyll to focus on the pertinent information he'd given her. Besides which, she needed to look into Sheelagh's eyes and she sure as hell wasn't going to do that here and now. So she slotted into the passenger seat and endeavoured to relax until they were clear of the house.
'Was he telling the truth, do you think?' Sheelagh asked eventually.
'We'll corroborate it because I know better than to trust him but, yeah,' she said. 'Can we pull over for a minute?'
Drawing into the next available lay-by, Sheelagh turned the engine off and unbuckled her seatbelt. Sam did the same before tugging her into a hug. The pressure of Sheelagh's arms around her back calmed her beyond words and when she pulled away she looked into her eyes for a long minute until she couldn't resist kissing her any longer. She didn't know what she was searching for then Sheelagh's fingers twitched under her shirt and scraped bare skin. With a growl, Sam yanked her closer then let go, knowing it was the only way they were getting out of this lay-by without some passing motorist reporting them for indecency. Sheelagh's eyes plainly showed that she understood the predicament and they didn't need to exchange a word before getting back on the road.
They ended up at a quiet pub with half a dozen patrons and a jukebox playing Cilla Black on a loop. Sam got a glass of wine but Sheelagh stuck to mineral water and they settled in a booth with their hands clasped together underneath the table out of sight.
'We've learned something at least,' Sheelagh said after a few minutes of silence.
Sam sighed. 'It's what you said about a breaking point – do you remember? I hurt her that day and Glenn hurt her. She went somewhere, spoke to someone and they... Who was it? What happened? Was it an opportunist? Had someone been watching her? We can't get a handle on it and it's driving me mad, Sheelagh.'
'I know, darling,' she answered simply. 'We've got a fresh lead out of this though – the email address. If she was communicating with Glenn, maybe she was communicating with someone else. You were dead right with that hunch and I didn't allow you to follow up on it.'
'There was no evidence to suggest another email address,' Sam said. 'How could we investigate a lead we didn't have?'
Sheelagh squeezed her hand. 'Do you want to go straight back to London to follow it up?'
'No, I'll call Phil and he can get us access,' she answered. 'I'd rather stay up here and clear my head. I think we need a bit of breathing space.'
'Sure,' Sheelagh replied with a smile. 'Anything you want.'
Quirking an eyebrow, Sam commented, 'That's a bold promise.'
'I mean it,' said Sheelagh and Sam's stomach flipped.
'Listen,' she said after a moment, 'I wasn't jealous, you know.'
'Do you think I can't spot your anger a mile off?' Sheelagh returned. 'I like to think I know you pretty well by now. I'm just proud that you didn't fly off the deep end.'
'Oh, I wanted to,' she admitted. 'Then I remembered that I'm the one who's let Abi down here, not him. Glenn was just the icing on the cake.'
'The mistakes we've made don't matter,' insisted Sheelagh. 'We're putting this right, we're going to find her.
Sam held her gaze. 'How can you be so optimistic?'
'Someone has to balance you out,' Sheelagh answered with a shrug.
There was no way to argue with that, Sam recognised, so she didn't try. Instead, they spent an hour in the pub talking over Glenn's information and other aspects of the case then called Phil to put him in the picture. After that, they drove to Ambleside to check into the B&B. On the way there Sam began to get a little apprehensive about the sleeping arrangements. Had Sheelagh booked two single rooms or a double? It was one thing to accept that they couldn't sleep without each other, quite another to demonstrate their relationship publicly. Maybe it didn't matter how far away they were from Sun Hill, maybe the natural reticence that surrounded their relationship in public applied here.
To her surprise, when they unloaded the overnight bag from the boot, Sheelagh pressed a kiss to her lips right in the middle of the yard. Sam was a bit too stunned to do much more than smile afterwards and allow herself to be led inside to the reception desk. She was further surprised by the fact that Sheelagh didn't relinquish her hand when the woman on the desk clocked them. The booking-in process was a bit vague in Sam's mind; she was too focused on Sheelagh's iron grip on her hand.
Finally, she was roused by Sheelagh querying, 'And the pub's just a mile down the road, you say?'
'That's right,' the woman replied. 'There are torches on the windowsill on the landing to make sure you don't get flattened on the way back. Be careful on that road.'
'We will,' Sheelagh promised. 'Thanks for your help.'
It was with a certain degree of bemusement that Sam found herself in a pretty yellow room with autumnal sun cascading over the covers of the double bed. She placed the bag down on the floor as Sheelagh wrapped her arms around her waist and smiled.
'Are you okay?' she asked.
Sam shrugged. 'Ask me something easier.'
Kissing her, Sheelagh questioned, 'Do you fancy a walk to the pub?'
'I think we'd better had,' she murmured. 'Pretty quickly actually.'
That was how she found herself sat in a proper little country pub eating steak and chips with Sheelagh opposite and wine swirling around both their heads. They were talking about everything and nothing, steadfastly ignoring the subject of Abi's disappearance but touching on pretty much everything else in their lives. It wasn't about making plans for the future; they were just bringing each other up to date with little anecdotes about families and work that solidified their bond. They were onto post-dinner coffees when the subject meandered back towards their relationship.
'Why do you think Gina put up with us for so long?' Sheelagh queried. Although her tone was light, Sam wasn't fooled and surreptitiously tangled their legs together underneath the table.
'Maybe she knew it had to be like this,' she answered. 'If she'd have come out and said it the first time she thought it I'd have... Well, laughed probably and then put as much distance between you and me as I could've.'
'Same here,' said Sheelagh softly. 'Funny how things turn out.'
'Funny,' Sam echoed, their eyes locked. 'Do you want another glass of wine?'
Sheelagh shook her head. 'Do you?'
'No,' she replied. 'I'll get the bill. It's only right,' she added, sensing a protest, 'you paid for the room. Don't argue with me.'
Instead of indicating for it to be brought to the table, she took a breather by approaching the bar. Even there, she felt Sheelagh's eyes fixed on her and it was proving incredibly distracting. While she waited for the barman she tried to banish all incriminating images from her mind – relatively unsuccessfully.
She was petrified and elated in equal measure. If she had any sense, she'd drag tonight back towards a platonic footing and they'd return to the B&B in the same frame of mind they'd approached the bedroom in the weeks since this had kicked off between them. In theory it was so easy but being plucked out of London had shattered the boundaries between good ideas and bad ones and Sam only knew that the craving to touch Sheelagh – intense at the best of times – was almost overwhelming tonight. Yeah, she could muster the strength to fight it if necessary but, glancing over her shoulder, she didn't think it was. Every inch of her body wanted this and Sheelagh was in the same place. She was sure of it.
After paying, she stepped back to the table and picked Sheelagh's jacket up. 'Ready?'
'Sure,' Sheelagh answered, settling back into her arms briefly as Sam slipped her jacket on for her. 'You?'
She couldn't force out speech so settled on a brisk nod instead. Only once they were outside in the cool air did she remember what they were heading towards and a smidgen of panic crept in. As she switched on the torch, she focused on the beam to bring herself back to reality. They couldn't do this; not tonight, not here. There was too much going on at home.
Sheelagh took her free hand while they walked along the quiet lane. 'It's a beautiful night.'
'Yeah,' she murmured.
Those were the only words they exchanged on the way back to the B&B. Sam was trying to devise a way to extricate herself from this. When it went hideously wrong they were in the middle of nowhere and, besides, she couldn't lose Sheelagh now. They needed to do this right and this wasn't right. Even if, she conceded, as Sheelagh's shoulder brushed against hers in the darkness, it felt perfect right this minute.
The B&B itself was quiet. They made it up to the room without impediment, depositing the torch back on the landing windowsill with a little thunk that echoed loudly along the staircase. Once the door clicked shut, Sam swept forward and went through the motions of unpacking the bag they'd left on the floor earlier. She closed the curtains and put her phone on charge before she ran out of things she could do without looking over to where Sheelagh was standing. So she stopped dead in the middle of the floor, wondering what the hell to do for the best.
'Sam...'
Her breath snagged at the quivering voice barely inches away from her ear. She automatically straightened up, feeling her body react at the thought of Sheelagh so near and so obviously on the same wavelength. But she couldn't do this, she needed to keep things –
'I love you, you know,' Sheelagh said softly. 'And I need you. Now.'
Leaning back, she felt hot breath on her neck, swiftly replaced by a pair of lips. She shuddered and let out an involuntary moan before her feet spun her round of their own accord and she gazed at Sheelagh. Her expression was clouded with the same thing Sam had seen last night in the car when it was safe but now it wasn't and yet she still couldn't contain herself. Slowly, she stroked Sheelagh's cheek then captured her lips in an achingly gentle kiss. The effect on both of them was anything but gentle. Sheelagh's fingers caught in her hair, dragging her closer, and Sam's free hand dipped around to slide her jacket onto the floor. Then she jolted to her senses and pulled away, staring into the carpet.
'You're not ready for this,' she muttered. 'We can't.'
The noise Sheelagh made was half a laugh and half a snort of exasperation. 'I promise you, darling, I'm ready. I've thought about little else for weeks. And, even if I'm nervous, I just want... Well, for now, I'd settle for you looking at me.'
Reluctantly, Sam raised her eyes and felt another spasm of heat. 'I don't want to lose you now.'
'You won't,' Sheelagh assured her. 'As long as you promise me one thing.'
'What?' she asked tremulously.
Sheelagh risked a step forward, biting down on her lip. She didn't say anything immediately, just began unbuttoning Sam's coat. It fell loose and she slid it away, tossing it onto the floor in one deft motion. Sam felt stunned, aware she should move but completely unable to actually do it. When Sheelagh's eyes flickered up she must've offered tacit approval because fingers began tracing patterns along her neck, dipping beneath the fabric of her shirt and making her shiver. A few moments of that and Sheelagh set to work on the top button before working her way down the shirt methodically. Sam's eyes followed her progress then she exhaled heavily as the shirt fell open.
'This promise...' Sheelagh whispered then relocated her lips to Sam's throat instead of finishing the thought. Shaking, Sam tipped her head back then gave way to a moan as Sheelagh's palm slipped inside her shirt and rested on her breast.
'What promise?' she managed with difficulty.
Drawing her head back, Sheelagh left her hand tucked inside the shirt. 'Give in,' she said. 'Let go, stop thinking. Let me make love to you because if I don't... I need you,' she added with a warm smile. 'I know you want this. You don't have to worry about me, I'm okay. You've held onto this for so long. It's time to let go.'
Sam swallowed and dislodged Sheelagh's hand. 'I'm scared,' she admitted.
'Of me?' When she shook her head Sheelagh continued gently, 'You know, I'm not scared of you. How could I be? You love ABBA for goodness sake.'
Despite herself, she chuckled. 'You're not helping.'
'Aren't I?' queried Sheelagh, raising an eyebrow. 'Then why are you smiling?'
'Because you're gorgeous,' she murmured.
Now Sheelagh flushed and Sam's breath hitched at the sight. Every ounce of resistance deserted her; she couldn't even remember why she was holding back. Reaching across, she tilted Sheelagh's chin up and met her gaze.
'I love you,' Sam told her.
Sheelagh bit her lip. 'And goodnight?'
'Not quite,' she replied softly.
They both gave in at the same moment, Sheelagh's hands catching around her shoulders to push her shirt to the floor while Sam fumbled with the zip on her trousers. In the spirit of letting go, she worked on instinct, though she had to spare a second to marvel as she encountered the sheer level of Sheelagh's arousal and remind herself it was all for her. After that, as Sheelagh deftly tossed her bra aside before she dipped her head to capture a nipple in her mouth, she lost all sense of why she hadn't given in long ago.
