"So, your motorbike man's back in town." Lilly allowed a smile at the window as Scotty asked a question that, truthfully, she'd thought he'd have asked a lot sooner. He'd been making veiled comments all morning and she was half glad when she'd come back to the office to find what might have been a break in the case; she and Scotty were going to interview a man who had been Lydia Coultier's stepfather at the time of her murder. Now they were in the car alone and he'd be able to get it out of his system. She wasn't sure what it was with him; since George, he'd been a lot more insistent with his questions about her life. On occasion, she resented the intrusion when his questioning became unrelenting. She still couldn't forget the way he'd lied to her face about Christina. Or that Christina had let slip so many of the secrets Lilly had tried so hard to keep close; Patrick, their childhood. She wondered how much he really knew about Ray.
"Seems that way." Lilly looked over to him.
"Why?" She smiled to herself as she saw his jaw clench, knew he was casting about for an answer.
"Last time he came back, you told us to tell him you were dead. Bit of a turn around since then." Lilly looked straight ahead, nodded to herself. A part of her had wanted to be dead to him, to put aside everything she had to tell him; everything she had to catch him up on since they went their separate ways. Instead, she'd realised he was here for nothing more than to remember how it was, and that he wasn't interested in the present. Now, when she'd assumed the same thing, he'd trumped her and was talking futures. I priced my Harley.
"Things change." She said. Once, they'd been as close to perfect together as was possible. But now… She knew he deserved more than she could give him. He'd always wanted three kids, the same as her. Children were a physical impossibility for her since that dark night on the street; she'd only found out when she'd been casually seeing someone and had come down with symptoms that had felt like morning sickness. She'd been on tenterhooks until she saw a doctor, convinced she'd been pregnant. It had been a case of food poisoning that her immune system hadn't managed to shake. She'd been relieved when the doctor had prescribed only antibiotics, until he told her she'd never need to be concerned about getting morning sickness. She'd sought a second opinion and had been told the same thing; ruined beyond repair inside, unable to carry out the very function she was put on this earth for.
She'd been scarce in her dating since, despite the constant advances, not wanting to get in too deep with anyone in case it became serious and the subject came up. Then, somehow, Patrick had come along. She wasn't quite sure how he'd swept her so completely off her feet. He'd been aloof enough for her, uncaring about her life pre-him, adamant that they'd remain childless. She knew he'd just been selfish now, but at the time it had been the perfect set up. Until Christina had waltzed in.
They were nearing the right street, and Lilly rechecked the address.
"People, too?" Scotty looked over at her, and their eyes met for a brief moment. Dampening her thoughts, Lilly pointed at the blue house with the grey roof, and Scotty swung the car into the driveway.
"He won't be staying around." Lilly didn't answer his question, but her words seem to satisfy him as the subject was dropped and they walked up the steps to the door. She knew Ray thought he might want to stay around, become the father of her children like they'd dreamt so long ago, eyes staring at the stars, fingers intertwined, Harley parked behind them. Now, though, she was all she could offer him; a woman with a damaged womb who had long since resigned herself to growing old alone.
"Walk you to the train, Lil?" Scotty waited when Lilly nodded, grabbed her jacket. She looked tired; they'd interviewed the stepfather and come across several new leads, including a boyfriend that Lydia's mother hadn't known about. They'd tracked his location down that afternoon, after trawling through the intranet for hours, and were going to see him where he worked tomorrow.
"Need me to pick you up tomorrow? You're on the way." Scotty pushed the lift button for the ground floor.
"Sure, that'd be good." She'd been getting considerably quieter all afternoon, and Scotty wondered if it had to do with the guy on the Harley, who seemed to ride in and out of her life. Christina had mentioned something, once, when they were standing on a corner together, both tipsy, waiting for a cab. A Harley had blown by, and she'd narrowed her eyes at it, watched it until it was obscured by a building.
"Like motorbikes?" Scotty had teased her. She'd looked up at him, her eyes darkening.
"No, just… The sound… Reminds me of when Lil left. She was nineteen and she just… She wasn't there the next morning. We didn't hear from her for months, until she got into the academy… Mom hated that guy…" Christina had kept staring down the street, Harley forgotten as the cab arrived. Scotty had opened the door, climbed in after her. He hadn't pegged Lil as someone that would have just left her family behind, regardless of who the guy was or how much shit she was getting at home. Then again, he couldn't imagine growing up the way she did, and if he had, he was sure he'd take any excuse to get out.
Now he was still wondering about it, whether her Harley guy was the same one who'd taken her away when she was nineteen. If so, he could identify with the way she felt; he knew how relationships could be when the history ran too deep.
"Long day, huh?" Scotty made small talk as they walked down the street. Lil was rewrapping her scarf, winding it around her pale neck to keep the cold air away.
"Hm. Yeah, it was. At least we got somewhere in the end."
"Yeah." There was a comfortable silence between them for a while. Vehicles burbled along the road, puffs of steam emitting from their tail pipes.
"Do you mind?" Scotty asked out of the blue. He'd still been caught on thoughts of this Harley riding guy. He'd known how long it had taken Lil to succumb to Kite's obvious advances, and Kite, a stable DA, was someone he could imagine her with. This other guy seemed to be a bum who rode in and out of her life, yet she seemed comfortable with this arrangement. He won't be staying around.
"Mind what?" Her eyes flickered over to his, suddenly incandescent under the street light.
"Just… If he's not staying around…" Scotty let his words trail off, not sure whether he'd adequately stitched a question in. Lilly let out a loud breath, almost a sigh.
"Ray's…" She paused at the steps to the station, poised to walk down. He could see her eyes were downward, formulating an answer. It was the first time he'd heard her speak his name, and he could sense the familiar way it tripped off her tongue. Finally she shrugged, looked up at him.
"Gotta get your kicks when you can. 'Night, Scotty." She turned and he watched her figure disappearing down into the fluorescent flutter of the station. He wondered about all the responses she'd carefully discarded in favour of one that would reveal little and keep him at bay. Sighing, he kicked at the pavement a little before turning away and resuming his steps. As ever, she would continue to be enigmatic. Ever since the woods, since there'd been such a real chance of losing her, Scotty had been trying to know more about her. He didn't want to look down at her grave in any way, shape or form, but he particularly didn't want to stand at a partner's funeral and realise that all he knew was that she had two cats and hated show tunes. He didn't even know when she'd got the cats, or why they were each missing a crucial body part. And he had no idea why show tunes irritated her so much. She was a mystery to him, and the little Chris had let slip hadn't helped him figure her out any more.
Crossing the street, dodging an irritated taxi driver with an extended middle finger, Scotty wondered if he'd ever know much about her. She usually answered questions with questions, as good cops learn to do. The only time she seemed to let her guard down was with victims, suspects, perps. Even then, he was never sure how much of it was made up, carefully subtexted into conversation to convince them she was the one they should spill their secrets onto. And usually it worked. But it was always a one way street, and she never let the details go too deep. George was the only one who had spouted her own history back at her, throwing words that had hit their mark and intriguing Scotty, who had never assumed there was anything as dark in Lil's past.
Scotty had made it despite a family that had wanted a lawyer, not a homicide cop. But Lil… Lil had come from a housing estate in Kensington avenue, a 49, a sister who had done nothing but take from her and a seemingly loveless mother to be the best on their team. And that fact, disregarding his feelings on knowing nothing at a funeral or her intelligence and slightly oddball humour, her fearlessness and her fragility that she kept tightly under wraps… That fact alone was enough to convince Scotty that he wanted to know more.