The dangers of Smoking

Part II

The dangers of smoking are widely known, by smokers and non smokers alike. Detective Sergeant James Hathaway knows them, accepts them and lives with them. Except one. No one thought to warn about that one did they?

Chapter 47

James jumped as his doorbell rang. He looked at his watch, and then the flat, and realised that he'd sat staring into space since coming home.

Evie entered, taking in, but not commenting upon the mess that greeted her.

The evidence of his lifestyle in the last few days littered the flat. Empty glasses and pizza boxes, half read books and half drunk bottles of wine. Ties and shirts thrown over the back of the sofa and overflowing ashtrays. In the four days since she'd last been here, James had trashed the place.

James was fastidiously tidy usually, or he was when she was around. She'd seen the place a mess before of course, when he was flat out on an investigation but not like this. This spoke to lack of care of himself.

"Sorry" he shrugged "I was going to tidy up..."

"Doesn't matter" she replied lightly, and the mess didn't. But how he looked, the haunted look on his face did, a lot.

He ran a hand over his face "I'll get changed, we'll go out"

"You look like you could sleep for a week" she observed.

James dropped onto the sofa, suddenly all pretence gone "If only it were that easy"

She sat carefully beside him as he leaned forward, head in his hands.

"Do you want me to go?" she asked softly.

He looked at her "No" he said sharply and then gave her a sad smile "No...please...just stay?"

"OK" she replied and put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him down to her. He rested his face against her and she realised that he was crying, softly, but crying none the less.

"I'm sorry" he suddenly jumped up and wiped at his face, pacing to the window "It's been a tough week"

Evie turned on the sofa and regarded him as he stood staring out of the window, she was worried. She sensed this was bigger than her, than her past and their relatonship and a nagging doubt suddenly exploded into her mind.

Small things he'd done and said had made her wonder at his reaction to the woman's suicide earlier in the week. She'd been there when he'd arrived at the scene, and been told that it was routine, as this was almost definitely a suicide. He'd hidden it well, but she knew from Lewis' almost protective attitude towards him, and James' own reaction, that this was something he found hard to deal with. She'd seen him deal with all manner of death professionally, with reverence, but not as deeply affected as this one. She'd even seen him at other suicides, students mainly. And she had put his reaction down to religious belief, Catholic attitudes towards suicide were well documented. It wasn't her place to judge.

But this was different. It was a middle aged woman, pretty, blonde, with a teenage son and a brutish and bullying husband. The boy had found his mother, in the garage, and he'd tried to get her down.

The husband was blustery, proclaiming his wife as selfish for leaving him and his son to fend for themselves. The boy had been silent, with a blanket around his shoulders, staring into the distance.

She had been surprised when James had visibly been shaken by the scene, and had then insisted on talking to the boy himself. He'd handled the interview himself, even checking on the boy daily, updating him on what was happening. Evie had noticed the strain it put him under, and she wondered that he'd totally avoided the husband after the initial ID. It was out of character.

She was brought from her thoughts by his voice low and expressionless.

"On Sunday" he began "It will be the 17th anniversary of my mothers death"

"Oh James" she sighed "I'm sorry..."

He lit a cigarette, a testament to his state of mind that he didn't light her one.

"I was 18" he replied "And I found her" he pressed a hand over his eyes before continuing "I had been at Cambridge for two terms, and Easter was always a time for me and ….mum. She loved it, and so did I. I had so much work on...first year student. I knew she was disappointed when I told her I couldn't make it home, I heard it. But I never dreamed..." he stopped his voice ragged, but when he started to speak again, it was under control, just "Easter Sunday just wasn't the same, not being with her. I didn't ring that morning as I promised, I got up and started work, and then just abandoned it, getting in the car and driving home"

He gave a small laugh, sad and humourless "I was so excited. I'd have an Easter egg, I knew that, even at 18 I was still spoiled by her. Totally. I was looking forward to dinner, massive roast. I imagined her face when she saw me coming into the house. You know that was the hardest thing about University, leaving her behind. But she wanted me to go, encouraged me..."

"She loved you" Evie said simply.

He walked to a drawer and pulled out an envelope, looking at it. She could see it was still sealed, with his name on it. He turned it in his hands carefully.

"I bounced in" he recalled, and Evie realised that he was so lost in memories that she wasn't sure if he was aware of her presence any more. His face was haunted, desolate "Shouting her. Bit confused really, the house being so quiet. Dad would have been out since the crack of dawn with his shooting cronies, but he'd expect his dinner when he finally rolled in, probably pissed. For a minute I hoped that she'd finally left him...then we'd both be free. I didn't care that I'd probably have to leave Cambridge, I'd have supported her like she always did me...but..."

He took a deep breath "She was there" he said in a monotone "I saw her...at the top of the stairs...just hanging"

Evie stood. She had no idea what to do, what could she do? It all made perfect sense now, his reaction, his stress. This was something no one should have to live through. She'd heard and seen the aftermath of many suicides in both her careers, but this one, this was so close to home and if it hurt her, she couldn't imagine what James was feeling.

Hesitantly she approached him and he looked at her, she pulled his head down and he shuddered a breath as he rested on her shoulder, and then his legs gave way and he sunk into the chair behind him. Evie perched on the arm awkwardly, cradling him to her. She stroked his hair and he sighed deeply.

"There was no one around" he said quietly "All enjoying Easter to themselves while I...tried. It was far too late. She left that letter, I never opened it"

"Oh darling" Evie said, she could feel the pain he was in through his tense body and wanted to take it away, knowing that she never could.

"It was my fault" he said "If I'd just come home earlier, told her I was...rang that morning... She couldn't face it, life with him on her own, and I couldn't blame her. My faith told me that she would spend eternity in purgatory...but how would that be different?!" he sounded angry now "What choice did God give her?! Live in purgatory with him anyway?! I should have been there!"

"It's not your fault" Evie soothed "She wouldn't blame you"

"No she wouldn't" he replied "But I do, after my father that is. I know why she did it, and I knew I should be angry but I couldn't be. How could I?"

"She loved you James" Evie spoke into his hair "You have to hold onto that"

He pulled away from her and rested his head back "I do" he said simply "But that boy...the kid is younger than I was, and what does he have now? I had Cambridge to go back to, supportive friends..., my faith as much as it frowned on what she'd done, it gave me comfort too"

"You made it" she said "And he will too. You did the most important thing, you were there when he needed someone most, on the day, in the hours following. That takes a lot of inner strength, to put your own feelings aside and think of someone else like that"

He regarded her "Is that the standard line for a mental health professional?"

"No" she replied, the words weren't designed to sting though they did a little, but she ignored it "It's the line of someone who cares about you, and admires you. Nothing I can say can change your perception of the events James, if it could, I'd say it. But it won't. I can just...be here"

He leaned into her again "Thank you" he mumbled.

She kissed the top of his head and he wrapped his arms around her.

"She'd have liked you, good judge of character my mum" he sighed eventually "I think she was relieved when I wanted to be a priest, she didn't like Scarlett at all. Thought she was a hoity toity little tart" he gave a genuine soft laugh "She was right"

"Scarlett?"

"Unrequited and rather painful teenage crush, that ended badly as grown ups" he sat back again and smiled gently "And entirely another story, for another time"

She smiled at him and he felt better, still wretched, wrung out, guilty, but better. He realised that Evie did that, he'd told her his deepest and darkest secret and she was still there, looking at him like she didn't want to do anything else, be anywhere else.

"I've not been very good company have I?" he said at last "I'm sorry"

She smiled again and touched his hand "I don't care"

He huffed a little "Fancy helping me finish paint the boat?" he offered "Before we try it out in a couple of weeks?"

"Yes" she answered immediately.

"Good" he stood, leaving some of the pain in the chair as he did "I'll get changed. Do you want to stop at your place and change?"

Evie looked down at her faded summer dress "No" she replied "This is old anyway"

He regarded her "I like it"

She bit her lip shyly as he grinned and then left the room.

...

Obviously this isn't cannon to the Hathaway character in the series, but it was an idea I formed after watching some episodes that involved suicides and Hathaway's attitude towards them - especially women.