Wednesday – on the beat

Millie and Sunil crossed to the other side of the street where a sliver of early afternoon shade gave some slight relief to the heat beating down on their uniforms, cooking their bodies inside.

"So, did you get over to your parents over the weekend?"

"Yeah," Sunil replied morosely.

"Same as usual then?"

"Worse. By the time I got there, she had laid out on the dining table the photographs of nine girls from India, all in the market for a husband, all known to the family. She went on to give me chapter and verse on their histories and earning potential. Three trainee doctors, a graduate pharmacist and five IT specialists, I think"

"Ooh, no pressure then! Any of them any good?" Millie joked, hoping to lighten his mood.

Sunil sighed miserably, shuffling his feet along the dusty pavement which was in dire need of a torrential downpour to cleanse away the dirt. "All lacking the right equipment, you know what I mean." Millie gave him a gentle nudge with her elbow in solidarity. There could be little doubt in anyone's mind that Sunil was gay except however in the eyes of his adoring traditional mother who couldn't understand that he didn't plan to get married and provide her with the standard clutch of grandchildren, not in the way she expected anyway. He'd had few relationships, but each had been serious, the most recent being Gary, the plumber turned hairdresser, for whom Sunil had fallen tragically hard and Millie had done her best to help him pick up the pieces of his complicated life. After that, Sunil had followed Millie in transferring to Barton Street and their already firm friendship cemented, much to Max's irritation at another man in her life.

"I know. But it's not as if you haven't told her, haven't you?" she asked quietly.

"Of course! More than once, and it's not as if it's not obvious, is it? Remember, I even took Gary home once to meet them. Once. That was enough to send him running."

"Oh, Su. Never fear, you've got me." At least that brought a weak smile to her dear friend's despondent features although Millie had to wonder how that might change with her engagement. Max wasn't good at sharing.

They stepped along in silence for a few seconds, mulling over the closeness of their friendship, before Sunil made a concerted effort to shrug off his woes. "Anyway, never mind all that. What about your weekend, you didn't call me," he reprimanded her with mock disappointment.

"Only because I was waiting to see you in person!"

"Go on," his eyes widened.

Millie thought she might burst, having told so few people so far. Outside of the family, and Guy, only Becksy and Jasper knew. Becksy whooped for joy and staked her claim as bridesmaid. Jasper told her one of his cousins was a top rate divorce lawyer, for as and when the time came.

"He asked me to marry him. And … I said yes!"

For a split second, Sunil's eyes betrayed a flicker of sorrow, but the instinct to congratulate immediately kicked in. "That's wonderful. Oh Millie, I'm so happy for you." His slight yet wiry frame did its best to envelope her, and the bulky stab vests they both wore, which was not an easy feat, as he kissed her cheek affectionately. "I have to admit though, I did wonder if he was the marrying kind." Millie laughed, having believed the same thing herself until the Saturday before. "So, where's the ring? I hope he already had a ring for you, so much more romantic that way."

"He did and it's beautiful. Perfect. Except that it's too big, so we're going to get it resized this … oh, shit!"

"What?"

"We planned to go to the jeweller this evening to get it altered but I've gone and agreed to work a double today." Millie tutted at her forgetfulness, she felt as though she had been walking on air since the weekend that the jeweller's appointment didn't register when her Sergeant had asked if she would do a double shift. She'd felt so high that she'd probably have agreed to just about anything. "Oh," tutting again in annoyance while fishing out her mobile phone from her pocket and hitting redial, "he's going to be really pissed off," she muttered.

"Hey."

"Hey. You okay?"

"Uh, huh. Drowning in paper, nothing new." Except there was. There were two DCs in the office beyond that he planned to speak to by the end of the day.

"Am I on speaker?"

"Yeah, there's no one here though, I'm filling out forms, multi-tasking. Don't know what you women go on about, it's easy, writing and talking. Damn."

"Not that easy then," she taunted cheekily.

"Watch it," he warned. "You might have to pay for that later."

"Um, yeah. That's why I'm calling. Can you re-arrange the jeweller? It's just that I've agreed to do a double." Millie waited for him to speak, knowing how disappointed he was bound to be. It seemed to matter hugely to Max that she wore his ring, getting it altered had become a consuming priority. "Half the station has gone down with this horrible vomiting bug, Sunil and I seemed to have only avoided it because we weren't in over the weekend, it's pretty desperate over here."

Max sighed, getting this ring on her finger was more work that he though it was going to be. "It's okay," he grumbled, "we can do it tomorrow," he finished with a further exaggerated sigh, for maximum effect.

"Well, actually …"

"Are you doing a double tomorrow as well?"

"Umm …"

"Millie!"

"I could hardly say no, Max. I had the whole weekend off, which by the way I know you pulled strings for."

Max coloured, how he had once written her off as having nothing between the ears was a mystery. Or maybe he was losing his touch at covering his tracks. A slight chill shivered through his body. "Okay, okay. We'll do it Friday then."

"I'm on lates, so it'll have to be early in the afternoon."

"Great, so I'm hardly going to see you at all for the rest of this week."

Millie turned away from Sunil to whisper into her phone, "I'll make it up to you, you know I will. Make a list." At his desk, mile or two away, Max was already on to it.

As she disconnected and swung back round to Sunil, Millie saw that same moment of sorrow once more. And not for the first time, she wondered if his nervousness around Max had less to do with intimidation, and more to do with attraction.

Their route took them close to the Barton Street and Sun Hill border, not so much a no-man's land, but an overlapping territory in which Millie and Sunil frequently found themselves waving to former station-mates as they sped by. The route also took them past 'Beautylicious'. Millie always avoided the salon, wouldn't dream of entering for an appointment and usually crossed to the other side of the road if she could rather than walk directly past it. It belonged to Carly. Carly Fleischmann. Millie could barely think of her without remembering how as a girl, Carly had relentlessly bullied her. Discreetly of course, never in sight or earshot of parents. Sometimes it was physical, the odd pinch or hair-pulling, but more often it was psychological, playing with her insecurities. Millie had been so sensitive to the wish of her father to be close friends with the daughter of his dearest friend that she had never been able to bring herself to confess the mental torture of each dreaded encounter. Carly would always find a way to put her down, she would discover whatever Millie felt most vulnerable about, whether it was spots or her awkwardly developing body as she matured into a young woman. And when there was nothing obvious, it would simply be the colour of her hair, telling her with bitchy menace that she'd never get a sexy man to look at her with her ginger hair, as if it was some sort of vile leprosy-like disease. On some level, Millie had wanted to be like Carly. To have her outward confidence and assurance, to be able to get anything she wanted. Carly didn't like her nose, so she changed it. Her breasts were too small, so she enhanced them, her teeth were not quite straight enough, so she fixed them. All paid for by her doting father, on demand without hesitation. Of course in hindsight, Millie knew this and the bullying were symptoms of a deeply unhappy girl, but Carly's abusive behaviour gave no one the opportunity or inclination to help.

Millie pondered as she walked, the garishly painted salon drawing ever closer. Well, she'd finally proved Carly wrong in one respect. In Millie's opinion, there was no one on the planet who could hold a candle to Max. She smiled to herself. Not only would she not avoid Beautylicious, she'd go in. She'd face her nemesis on her owns terms.

Beautylicious embodied the spirit of Carly Fleischmann. Its gaudy façade, candy pink with gold signage, was a footballer's wife's dream. A curious mix of young girl's bedroom laced with ostentatious vulgarity, screaming money but without a drop of class. It was hugely popular, especially with the aspirant local residents who deemed an orange fake tan and ludicrously long decorated nails as the height of stylish sophistication. Sondra had been in once, to show support, but had declared afterwards that she probably wasn't the clientele Carly was looking for and never repeated the experience.

Just as the pair were about to enter, Sunil's phone rang. He pulled a desperate face and signed. "It's Mum. I'll have to take it otherwise she'll keep calling and it'll get embarrassing again. She called the station last week when I didn't answer and ended up speaking to the Inspector. She made him write down every word of her message." Millie squeezed his arm and left him outside.

"Well! If it isn't PC Plodette!" Carly maliciously announced to the room, garnering sycophantic giggles from her staff at the hilarious joke.

"Hello, Carly." Millie kept he voice steady, refusing to be beaten down, not within the first minute at least. If nothing else, it was cool inside the salon with icy air as unnatural as it inhabitants bursting from the portable air-conditioning machine in the corner.

"Your friend too scared to come in as well?" she gestured dismissively at Sunil standing on the other side of the window, his head bowed in pained submission.

"No, he's just got an important call to take," Millie knew she sounded defensive. It was always the same with Carly.

"So, you here for a makeover? Can't say it's not long overdue," cue ripples of more catty laughter from the pink uniformed girls flanking her.

"Look, Carly, I only came in to say hello, but if you're going to insist on being unpleasant for no good reason, then I don't see any point in wasting my time on you." Millie spoke firmly, her eyes fixed on her bottle blonde opponent, who even by her own standards was looking more pillow-faced than usual. Bad Botox, she thought smugly.

For once, Carly Fleischmann looked shame-faced at her own behaviour, slightly surprised by Millie's standing her ground instead of crumbling at the well-honed taunts tossed her way. But Carly was proud, and she wouldn't completely back down, she would certainly never apologise for anything she did or said, it wasn't in her nature.

"I hear you're still with that copper, what's his name?"

So Georgie hasn't heard about the engagement, thought Millie to herself, he'd have been sure to tell Carly straightaway if he had. She immediately decided against enlightening Carly, there were more deserving people to tell first. "Max, you know it's Max. And yes, we're still together. Living together," Millie couldn't help accentuating that last nugget, even if it felt bitchy. It felt good. The barb hit target as Carly's sneer faltered a fraction. For all her manufactured glamour, Carly had never achieved more than a few weeks with any man. Her chosen victims either couldn't match up to the model of her father or she drove each one away with her incessant demands for attention and servitude. It didn't stop her wanting someone though.

She shrugged, as if it was nothing to her. "Dad doesn't like him. Says you could do better for yourself," her expression explicit that she doubted Millie ever could do better.

"Does he? Well, it's a good thing Georgie's opinion of my love-life isn't important then, is it?" She kicked herself for rising to Carly's bait again.

Carly shrugged again, fiddling with her ridiculous nail extensions, candy pink flecked with gold.

"As long as he doesn't get nosey, we'll be alright I suppose. And anyway, don't expect he'll be around forever. Can't imagine how you've kept him this long."

"I don't know why I've bothered coming in here. I only did because I care about Georgie and know he likes to think we get along. But I can't do this, there's too much good in my life to taint it with your poison. You know Carly, if you're not careful you're going to end up a sad lonely woman with only her wrinkle filling hangers-on for company. Nobody else is going to spoil their day by spending any time with you." The two women stared at each other for a moment. Millie felt shocked by her outburst, which would no doubt be turned round against her, as it always had been since their childhood, but this time she didn't care. Carly's bottom lip quivered, another trick that Millie recognised as being designed to conjure sympathy. Usually it worked and Millie would apologise, but not this time. Being with Max had out of necessity made her stronger and so much more confident. He could overrule her every day if she didn't refuse to allow him the upper hand. If she could resist his dominance, Carly was a walk in the park.

Carly was the first to avert her eyes giving Millie the opportunity to turn and walk away the victor. As she reached the door she heard Carly bark out at her staff, "what are you lot staring at? I want all the treatment rooms and the sun-bed cleaned from top to bottom, this place is disgusting!" Millie couldn't resist a tiny smile at her win over her old enemy.

Later that afternoon, with Millie's prophesy still ringing in her ears, stinging her pride and bruising her ego, Carly left the salon through the rear door to her parked car. She'd prove that boring little nobody wrong. She'd find herself a man and make him marry her. Hopefully she'd also have a chance to split up Millie and Mike, or whatever his name was, in the process, maybe she'd lure him her way. It wouldn't be hard. Too full of her own cruelty, Carly didn't see the masked figures approach her from behind in the dingy alleyway leading to her car. She didn't notice their muffled footsteps. But she did realise something was very, very wrong when her head was forcibly jerked back and the light drained from what she could see at the end of the walkway, until there was nothing at all.