Robbie had only driven a couple of hundred yards down the road before he pulled over to the kerb. His head was pounding and he could feel his heart beginning to race. It was all just a bit too much and he knew he had to compose himself before he drove to work. He turned the engine off, slumped a little over the wheel and sighed deeply, a long shuddering breath. Not a man used to outbursts of emotion, he wasn't entirely sure what to do with himself. He wasn't upset, far from it, just, well, overwhelmed… Although he'd breezed through the past week, the reality of telling Laura how he felt was just beginning to sink in and he was finding it impossible to think of anything else. All he wanted to do was turn the car around, march right back in there and hold her against him until his brain caught up with events. But he couldn't, and he needed to get a grip on his emotions. He took another deep breath, and rubbed his eyes, trying to ease the tension forming. The dashboard clock was five minutes fast, but nonetheless he knew that he would be at least fifteen minutes late now. The interviews weren't scheduled to start until nine, but he'd wanted to be at his desk early to brief Gray. He sighed again, and reached into his pocket for his phone,
"Morning Gray, are you at the station yet?"
The lad was keen and in truth he already knew the answer,
"Yes sir, just sorting out the secondary witness statements"
"Good…listen, I'm running a bit late, lad, would you be able to get me a coffee and a bacon sandwich from the canteen…sorry to ask but…"
Gray smiled to himself, wondering if his boss's lateness had anything to do with Dr Hobson's return,
"It's ok, sir…I understand. Will you still be ok to start at nine?"
"Aye, that's no problem…I'll be there by quarter to…I just forgot how bad the traffic was on this side of town"
Gray elected not to ask to which of town he was referring and grinned broadly,
"No problem then sir, breakfast will be on your desk when you arrive – red or brown sauce?"
Robbie chuckled, and, feeling a bit more like himself replied,
"Brown, you philistine…honestly, lad…."
After he hung up, Robbie felt a little more relaxed. And not just because the prospect of breakfast made the forthcoming interviews more bearable. He liked Gray, he was calm and straightforward. Not a patch on Hathaway in the brains department, obviously, but he would make an excellent member of the team. It was a shame he was only on secondment really. He switched on the radio and started the engine. Talking to Gray had somehow drawn a line under the morning and got him into work mode. He really couldn't think about Laura today, as much as he wanted to. He had to concentrate on the matter in hand. Faulkner was a crook, it was plain to see, and this was the best opportunity they'd had in years to finally nail him. And then, when he had charged him, he could go home and take some time off. Perfect. As he indicated to turn out of Laura's road, he realised that he couldn't stop smiling.
It was just after ten when Laura arrived at Robbie's house. As she closed the front door, Monty poked his head around the living room door and purring loudly, stalked over to rub her legs,
"Hello trouble…sorry I'm late"
She reached down and ran her hand along his back, before tickling behind his ears. He purred more insistently and she scooped him up into her arms. In spite of his size, he was mainly fur, and she carried him easily into the kitchen. He rubbed his face against her chin affectionately and she chided him for taking liberties,
"Honestly, you're as bad as your owner…"
She set him down carefully on the kitchen counter, and as she hunted for a tin opener he dashed out of the room. As she was setting the bowl down he returned, and with what might best be described as a proud look on his face, dropped a large, very dead shrew at her feet. She didn't scream - Laura never did - but she bent down to have a closer look. The tiny brown creature was curled up tightly, probably dead from fright, and Monty was gently prodding it with his left paw.
"I suppose I should say thank you, young man, but technically I'm off duty"
Monty purred loudly, and sauntered over to his bowl to begin breakfast, leaving Laura to deal with the scene of the crime. She smiled, in spite of herself, and wrapping the little body in some kitchen roll, took it outside to the bins. A grim end for a beautiful animal, but she couldn't risk Monty bringing it back inside again. Robbie wasn't exactly brilliant with human remains, and she was pretty certain that a decomposing rodent on his carpet wouldn't go down too well. As she closed the lid of the bin, she couldn't help but notice that there were several new raised beds in the corner of the garden. Curiosity piqued, she wandered over, and was surprised to see several rows of winter greens planted up, along with some parsnips and carrots. She wasn't sure what shocked her most, that Robbie had actually made himself a vegetable patch…or that he might actually eat vegetables. Both were interesting new discoveries that she filed away for future discussion.
As she walked back into the house, she noticed that Monty had finished the bowl of food and disappeared. She locked the back door and gathering her things, prepared to leave. Not wanting to go without a final stroke though, she tried the half-open door to the bedroom. The curtains were open, and curled up, right in the middle of the bed, was an extremely contented cat. Smiling, she stepped in and put her bag down on a chair, before, joining the sleepy cat on the duvet. As she ran her fingers over the soft fur, she looked around. She'd never once stepped into Robbie's bedroom before. Even though she'd fed Monty countless times over the last few years, she'd never crossed this particular boundary. It hadn't felt right. Not so much an invasion of his privacy, but more a dangerous incursion into her own feelings. It had meant too much. It had simply been easier to stay in the kitchen, to pop in and out, just like a friendly neighbour, rather than confront her feelings for him. Today, though, it felt different. The pale sunlight was spilling into the room, and she was amused to see a neat pile of shirts, all ironed and folded, sat on the chest of drawers. His shoes were lined up under the radiator, next to a small set of dumbbells. Typical boy. His house was part of a Victorian terrace and, like all the rooms, his bedroom had an original fireplace. The surround was beautiful, the tiles blue and green, and some kind of elaborate light-fitting sat in the grate. But what drew her eye most was the selection of pictures on the mantelpiece. Pressing a quick kiss to Monty's sizeable rump, she stood and wandered over to investigate. There were several of Val, one with the whole family, and one of his daughter with her baby. And much to her surprise there was another picture, of her and James. He must have taken it at her birthday party, more years ago than she cared to remember. God, she'd been drunk that night. She picked up the small frame and looked closely. It was a good picture, in spite of the free-flowing gin. James looked like a teenager, his arm somewhat awkwardly draped around her shoulders. She didn't even remember Robbie having a camera with him that evening.
She set the frame down carefully, and moved to the other feature of the room that had genuinely surprised her. Bookshelves. Proper old-fashioned, inset bookshelves. Filled with volume after volume. They covered the best part of the main wall and she was extremely curious to see their contents. If she'd ever wanted to know how Robbie spent all those evenings alone, the answer was surely here. He'd been reading. A lot. She ran her finger along the middle shelf, reading the titles on the spines. There was a lot of Dickens, and plenty more of the classics. A large compendium of Sherlock Holmes made her smile, as did a copy of The Murders in the Rue Morgue. There was a lot of modern fiction, some of it she knew, other authors she didn't. He seemed to like Borges and Calvino, as well as Orwell and Ford Madox Ford. And Laura, a little ashamed by her reaction, was astounded. The books were well-thumbed. This wasn't a 'decorative' library so commonly seen at her friends' houses…this was proper collection, of many years' worth of reading.
A little overwhelmed, Laura sat back down on the bed, and stretched out. All these years, and never once had he mentioned a book he was reading. Did Hathaway have any idea? She considered it for a moment. Yes, he probably did. She loved James, but he wasn't the easiest person to talk to sometimes. Maybe they bonded over literature? She smiled to herself, and curled up on the duvet, her face pressed into the now-familiar scent of his pillow. There was so much that she didn't know about him. But whereas before that lack of knowledge had terrified her, had felt like a huge space between them, now she was just excited at the prospect of learning more. Monty stretched out next to her, his warm back resting against her side, and she sighed,
"Oh god, not you too…honestly, I will be asleep soon if you keep that up"
She yawned loudly and pulling herself up, extracted herself from under the cat. He purred loudly to express his disapproval and she gave him a quick stroke,
"Sorry Monty, time for me to go and sort out dinner for the other one…"
As she stood, she noticed for the first time the small pile of cards on his bedside table. Immediately, she recognised the card on the top of the pile, she'd sent it to him on his birthday last month. It was nothing significant, just a birthday day, but he'd kept it and the thought pleased her. She reached out and picked it up, smiling as she re-read the inscription. Placing it back on the pile, though, she realised that the next card was also vaguely familiar. A Christmas card from last year. Picking up the pile, she looked through the cards…there were twenty one in total, all from her at various events over the years. He'd kept them all. Laura was seldom speechless, but had anyone asked at this moment for an explanation, she would have been entirely lost. It was such a simple gesture, to keep the cards, but it demonstrated so clearly what he'd told her last night that it literally took her breath away. Wiping away a stray tear, she carefully placed the cards back on the table. She swallowed deliberately and looked around the room. There was an irony to it…so many words here, and yet so much silence. She smirked wryly to herself…bloody hell, all this literature has got me thinking in aphorisms. She stood and straightened her jeans out, before running a quick hand down Monty's back,
"Right, now I'm really going…I'll make sure he feeds you tonight, and then maybe we can start discussing the possibility of you making a visit to my house, hmm?"
A/N - Thanks for all the lovely reviews so far - please do comment if you have a moment, it's great fun reading your responses! :)