The house seemed oddly serene after the busyness of the morning and then the news that had left their lives in tatters. How mundane everything had been just a few short hours ago, she thought, how wonderfully mundane. She looked across the elegantly decorated lounge at her three boys. Extremely house-proud, bordering on obsession, she'd spent hours choosing wallpaper and paint colours for this room, dragging Kevin around countless furniture shops searching for the perfect piece. He couldn't have cared less and would have settled for any size budget to keep her happy, but she'd wanted his input, however reluctantly it was given. And after all that effort what did she have? An overpriced loveseat and curtains that were impossible to clean. But she had her boys, who were currently huddled up together on the larger of the sofas, their mops of mousy brown hair hiding their faces from her as they stared at the TV. The enormity of the day summed up by their need to be together, boys who'd otherwise be avoiding each other like the plague now seeking solace by being close to one another.
The Inspector who'd spoken to her at the mortuary had been very kind and very understanding. He'd appeared to have instinctively known how she'd felt which has been reassuring, although how anyone could grasp the range of her emotions was currently beyond her. But despite his sympathy he could tell her very little and she likewise. Her strong, confident husband who liked marmite on toast for breakfast and builders' tea as strong as she could make it cut down by something or someone unknown.
The Oxford rush hour didn't stop just because it was the weekend, shoppers and tourists merely replacing the office workers, and it had begun in earnest as James eased his car out of the pub car park and onto the main road. He knew Jean lived out of the town centre and by its very nature that meant many sets of traffic lights and cars bumper to bumper for several miles before the clearer tarmac of the dual carriageway opened up. He half listened as Jean chatted about the dinner she was planning for her friends, nodding in what he hoped were the right places. He respected, even liked, his Chief Super but they had very little in common outside of work and he tended to rely heavily on the fact that on social occasions Robbie was usually acting as a buffer between them. He could have protested more strongly at her request to be driven home but he found that he had his own motivation to get Jean on her own. The topic of overcooked vegetables finally seemed to have run its course and so he took the opportunity to speak.
"Ma'am, I wonder if I can enlist your help with a little side project? '' he started, unsure how she was going to react to what he had to suggest.
"Sounds intriguing," she replied. "What kind of project? Doesn't involve any overtime, does it?" frowning as she recalled the budget memo she'd been reviewing earlier in the day, it containing no good news of any sort.
James sniggered lightly, "No, no overtime, Ma'am. It's a little delicate but one that I think we're more than capable of handling," and using the latest set of lights as an opportunity to catch her eye, he added, "Concerning the bringing together of two of our favourite people."
Jean let a conspiratorial smile cross her lips, "Ah, I see. Yes, delicate indeed." She thought about it for a moment before giving him her reply, "What exactly do you have in mind?"
The pub was filling up nicely with early evening drinkers, and if they'd been aware of the swell of people around them they'd have been grateful that James had got there when he did and bagged them a table. As it was they were so caught up in each other and their conversation that they barely registered the increasing noise of other people's chatter, let alone those eyeing up their table lest they should make a move to leave. Laura had been telling Robbie about the latest goings on in the lab. She'd not long hired a chap called Ned, an experienced technician who, it turned out, had rather taken a shine to Margaret, the team administrator who had a fierce reputation for keeping them all on the straight and narrow. She was a kindly soul but one who took her responsibilities to keep everyone's paperwork moving rather too seriously. Laura laughed with her own amusement as she recounted how Margaret had come to her to ask for advice on how to handle the attention being bestowed upon her, coming into work as she was each day to be greeted by bunches of flowers and edible gifts.
"Honestly Robbie, it was the most uncomfortable work conversation I've had with a colleague in a while. I actually had to explain to her that perhaps Ned fancied her which was why he was acting like this, and then suggest that she might want to decide if she fancied him back. She looked utterly confused at the notion that someone might want to spend time with her, let alone kiss her! I wish you could have seen her face when it finally dawned on her what I was saying!"
Robbie chuckled, "Margaret with a love life, who'd have thought it. She's been single as long as I can remember. Good for Ned, I hope she goes for it."
"Oh, me too. She deserves a bit of happiness, trapped down in that airless office all day with only us and the dead for company," she replied, draining her glass and setting it back down.
She took a moment to look at her friend who'd momentarily been distracted by the group on the table next to them. How easy this all is, she reflected. It had been weeks, maybe longer, since they'd last had an opportunity to talk properly and yet it was so natural, as if no time had passed at all. The subtle intimacy they shared was something to cherish; she didn't have it with many people. It had changed over the years of course, ebbing and flowing as the world around them had changed, but she'd never doubted that Robbie was there for her if and when she needed him. No, her worries were of a different kind and those were the ones that secretly scared her. She hated the very idea of regrets and yet she'd had a nagging feeling for a while now that he could very well end up being the one regret that she wouldn't be able to get over.
Her loud sigh brought Robbie's attention back to her. "You want another one?" he gestured to her empty glass.
Reluctantly she shook her head, "It's been a long day, I think I should probably think about heading home. I have three dates with death tomorrow after all," the darker side of her causing Robbie to grin.
"Walk out with me then?" he offered, pleased to see her nod enthusiastically in reply.
From across the busy pub, a man watched as the Inspector and the woman, whom he presumed was his girlfriend given how well they'd been getting on, stood and he helped her with her jacket. Ever the gentleman, he snorted silently into his beer. He could spot a policeman a mile off, years of run-ins with the law meant he'd developed a sixth sense about these things. He'd been curious to see them all come in earlier, even overhearing bits of their conversation, but he'd not heard them mention the incident at the pool. Caught a break with that one, he didn't wonder, but it never hurt to be too careful, follow up from afar. He watched as the couple weaved their way towards the exit, and downing his pint and leaving it for the barman to clear, he followed them at a distance.
Finding their rhythm, Laura slipped her arm through his, Robbie's hands deep in his pockets. They walked in companionable silence, taking in the sights of the city as it transitioned from early evening to night. It wasn't quite the hour for excitable groups of tipsy teenagers and students who, frankly, should know better and so they had the honey-stone buildings and majestic spires of the colleges largely to themselves. When they spent time like this together Robbie couldn't imagine wanting to be anywhere else. He saw what everyone else saw, this attractive, intelligent woman who could equally charm or slay a man with seemingly little effort. He'd given up years ago trying to fathom why she enjoyed his company quite so much, eventually resolving himself to accept that she seemed to and that was fine by him. That there could be more between them had often crossed his mind over the years, of course it had, but something unspoken had held them back time and time again.
They slowed as they neared the point at which their respected routes home diverged, but both seemed to want to hold back from saying goodbye.
"So, an early start then. What time do you want me?" Robbie asked, turning to face her, saddened to realise that meant her arm had slipped away from his.
"Now, there's a question?" she replied, an arched eyebrow framing the glint in her eye at the suggestion.
He rolled his eyes, "I'll take that as 'around 9am as usual' then."
She laughed, "Let's go for 9.30. You can treat yourself to a lie-in," she leant up and kissed him on the cheek, "Night Robbie."
She gave him one last smile before turning and heading away from him. He sighed, if only he could summon the courage to do what he really wanted to, to reach for her hand, pull her back towards him and kiss her properly. He ruminated on this thought as he spun on his heel and began the last part of his journey alone.
