10 April 1991
The CPS office was a typical, grey uninspiring building and, as he stood outside, Frank couldn't help but feel as though he would rather be anywhere else but there. His phone had rung on Friday afternoon and a snotty sounding lawyer named Jonathan Grayling had asked if he would mind coming in to give a statement in relation to the case against Stewart Church. He had hesitated, briefly, before agreeing and then spent the entire weekend considering what he was going to say. There were moments when he considered doing exactly what he had told Christina he would do; tell them she was a slag who had deserved all she had received, but those moments were few and far between, significantly outnumbered by the moments when he knew he would tell the truth.
Being with Fiona had helped. She had accepted his pathetic attempt at an apology for how he had previously spoken to her and, he had to admit, the sex had been quite good, though not good enough to obliterate someone else from his mind, the familiar crushing feeling of loneliness consuming him after he had left her bed.
Ten minutes later, he found himself being greeting by Jonathan Grayling, a tall, thin man with glasses who looked as though a stiff breeze would have knocked him over. "Thank you for coming in, Inspector. I realise you're a busy man, so I do appreciate you taking the time."
He bit back a sarcastic response and, instead, settled himself in the chair opposite the lawyer's desk, hoping that the encounter wouldn't take too long.
"I appreciate this is a little embarrassing," Jonathan said, "but I'm sure you understand that this a very serious charge that's been levelled against Mr Church and whilst we're all hoping it won't come to trial, we do need to be prepared."
"I understand."
"Good. Now, Mrs Church…can you tell me how long you've been her senior officer?"
"Almost three years."
"I see…and when did your sexual relationship with her start?"
He paused momentarily, surprised by just how quickly they had got down to the crux of the matter, having expected a bit of foreplay before the main action. "December."
"December past? December 1990?" He nodded. "And are you still in a sexual relationship with her?"
"No."
"So, when did that end?"
He took a breath, "February."
"I see, so it wasn't long-term then. More a passing fling, would you say?"
"No, I wouldn't," he replied instantly, irritated at the description. "I cared about her very much."
"I see…and was her husband aware of your relationship, do you know?"
"Before he attacked her, yes he was aware. He'd apparently seen us together outside her flat. He'd threatened to expose us and that's why she went round to the house to meet him."
"I see…"
"But he'd assaulted her twice already before that."
Jonathan looked up, his expression one of surprise. "Assaulted her?"
"Yes, twice in December, in the space of a couple of days. He threw her against a wall in the pub, in front of all of us and then, a day or so later, threw a glass at her head in their home. Uniformed officers also had to attend at the house due to a disturbance just prior to this where Mr Church was arrested for assaulting a police officer." He paused. "Didn't you know about that?"
"We know about the assault on the officer," Jonathan replied. "But I wasn't aware that there had been two domestic incidents prior to the stabbing. Mrs Church didn't mention either of those in her own statement."
"Well, they happened, whether she mentioned them or not."
"Why wasn't Mr Church arrested?"
"She didn't want to press charges."
Jonathan paused and looked at him curiously, "Mrs Church has been under your command for almost three years so, you must have had the opportunity to observe her and her husband together, their relationship."
"So?"
"Well, how would you have characterised it, prior to your affair I mean?"
He paused, a thousand jumbled thoughts rolling through his mind. What was he supposed to say? His view of the Church marriage was most definitely tainted by his feelings for Christina but, at the end of the day, he hadn't really known what went on behind closed doors. They had obviously been happy – once. "It seemed normal enough to begin with, but I didn't like him," he said finally. "He was arrogant and hostile to deal with professionally and personally and there were times when he showed little concern for his wife. After he was shot, it went downhill completely but, apart from that, I don't feel I can comment."
"Mrs Church must have mentioned things to you though surely?"
"If she did, I can't remember specifics. When we were together, I wasn't really interested in hearing about her husband, know what I mean?"
"Yes…" Jonathan paused. "Clearly, we want to ensure that Mr Church is convicted of this offence, whether it's after trial or by way of a plea, so it's important that we can present the court with enough evidence to show that he was angry, having discovered your affair with his wife, and that his actions were deliberate, as I'm sure you know."
"Well, I'm not sure how you could say otherwise. He lured her to the house, stabbed her and then left her to bleed to death on the kitchen floor. If I hadn't turned up when I did…" he trailed off, the memory still fresh in his mind.
"Of course, and that act in and of itself, leaving her injured, is crucial for the attempted murder charge. I presume that you are willing to give evidence, if necessary, about all of this?"
"Well, I'd obviously prefer not to, but if I have to, I will."
"I'm glad. As I said, I recognise that this is embarrassing, but it is for the greater good, after all."
Once out of the office and back in his car, he sat for a long while with the engine running, contemplating what had been said and what was coming. The greater good…so much for the end of their relationship having no professional effect on either of them. If Church did insist on a trial, he was going to have to stand up and tell a packed courtroom exactly what had happened between him and Christina, then there would no doubt be an investigation and any chance of promotion would be out the window anyway. He'd be forever known as the DI who bedded one of his WDC's. No better than Gordon Wray in the eyes of many, even though the circumstances were so very different.
He'd given his life to the police force, to the Met, done everything asked of him without question and now he was looking at it being taken away, all because he had fallen in love. Well, what was the point in facing that situation on his own? Surely it was better that they presented a united front, proved to everyone that it hadn't just been some sordid, dirty, grubby little affair?
She said she'd report you for rape.
The stumbling block, the elephant in the room, the one thing that his mind kept coming back to again and again…he couldn't forget how he had felt, the horror and the disgust, not just at the fact that she could say it, but at the fact that she knew that if she did report something like that, then all bets were off. He'd never recover as a man and certainly not as a police officer. Why in God's name had she thought that to be a reasonable response? How on earth could she have even contemplated saying such a thing after they had just been so deeply intimate? She had wanted to come up to his room, taken no persuading to make love with him….it was beyond his understanding. And that's where the anger came from, the fury that she would even voice such a thought, the hurt that, after all they had been through together, she could let the very words leave her lips…
He had wanted to stay angry with her, wanted to make good on all the things he had threatened to do, wanted to hurt her as she had hurt him…but he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to speak ill of her, couldn't bring himself to raise his voice to her, especially when he simply had no understanding of what was going on in her head. Her tears in his office, telling him that she would never have gone through with it and that she needed him to hate her. What was behind that? There had to be something, something more than just her saying she didn't love him. Maybe she really wasn't well. Maybe everything that had happened had affected her far more than either of them had realised. Maybe she had pressed some sort of self-destruct button and he needed to be the one to find the abort switch.
He had thought that sex with Fiona, sex with Lorna, sex with anyone would help quieten all the thoughts in his head, give him another focus, make him remember that there were other women out there, but it just wasn't the same and he felt stuck, right back in the place he had been before Christmas, making love with one person whilst thinking only of another.
It couldn't go on the way it was, otherwise, he knew he was going to go mad. He needed answers, even if she didn't want to give them. For his own sanity, he needed to know.
XXXX
"A transfer?" Kim's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline.
"Yes, with immediate effect."
"I don't understand. You've only been back at work for a week."
"Yes, and that's been long enough for me to realise that I need to be somewhere else." Christina met the other woman's gaze as best she could. "It's not going to work for me here, I can see that now."
Kim didn't say anything for a long moment. "Does this have anything to do with Inspector Burnside?"
"No Ma'am, not at all."
"He hasn't been making things difficult for you?"
"No Ma'am. If anything, we've just been staying out of each other's way."
She had spent the weekend reflecting on what had happened since her return to work and had woken up on the Sunday morning with the realisation that things couldn't continue the way they had been. She couldn't stand the fact that he barely looked at her and would gladly have welcomed him giving her a hard time as he had previously threatened to do. She wished with all her heart that they could butt heads or trade insults, anything that made her feel as though he still knew that she existed without them actually having to face the reality of why things had become so strained. She didn't want to talk about them, their relationship or why it had ended. She just wanted things to be as they had once been.
Her reflection had told her that she was in denial, that she couldn't possibly expect things to go back when so much had been said and done, but she had pushed that thought away, told herself that they could, that they had to, otherwise she feared she would lose her mind.
The idea of asking for a transfer, always there at the back of her mind, had forced itself to prominence as she had driven to work that morning and, before she had had time to reconsider her actions, she had found herself in Kim's office.
"I don't want to lose you, Christina," Kim said, shaking her head. "And I'm not convinced that you've thought this through properly. You've been at Sun Hill for a number of years now and…"
"So maybe it's time for a change."
"Well, I'm not sure there are any WDC vacancies across the division at the moment…I really wish you would think on this a bit more."
"I have thought about it, a lot. I really think a fresh start would be good for me and, if I go now, then I'll have had time to settle into a new place before, well, before it all comes out about my relationship with the DI." She paused on Kim's look. "The CPS wanted to know who he was and were looking to take a statement from him in the event that Stewart decides to take the matter to trial. I'm guessing it would probably be better all-round if one of us had moved on before that happens, in order to minimise the potential fallout." Kim nodded and she could see the cogs turning in the other woman's head as she considered the implications for the Sun Hill Senior Management Team if they were seen to condone either her or Frank remaining in their respective posts in the event of a full public explosion of the facts of the case.
"This is just all very disappointing," Kim said, and she could tell that she was referencing more just than her desire to move stations.
"I know Ma'am and I'm sorry. I don't know if it matters now, or perhaps later, but I want you to know that I was an equal party in all of this."
"Quite…" Kim sighed. "Well, if it's what you really want, I can make a few calls this afternoon and see if there are any openings anywhere. You might have to simply take what's on offer however, Barton Street, Stafford Row…"
"I don't mind. I'll go anywhere."
Kim shook her head, "All right, leave it with me. We can catch up at the end of the day."
"Thank you, Ma'am." Rising from her chair, she turned towards the door. "I'm sorry for all the trouble this has caused."
"You're not entirely to blame, Christina, as well you know."
"No Ma'am, thank you." Opening the door, she stepped back out into the corridor and let out a long breath. Now that it was done, she felt a certain quietening inside her head. All she had to do was wait for the nod and, by tomorrow, she could be somewhere else, with new colleagues and new faces. A new start. It would be hard, but it could be done. Anything had to be easier than carrying on feeling the way she did.
She turned to make her way down the corridor, suddenly desperate for a hit of caffeine, when the swing doors at the far end opened and she came face to face with Frank. Instantly, her stomach dropped as they locked gazes and she made to keep walking, hoping he wouldn't say anything, putting a smile on her face as though she was greeting anyone. "Guv."
"We need to talk," he said, and she felt her heart sink.
"Well, I was just on my way to…"
"I don't care where you were on your way to, we need to talk."
"What, right here?"
"No, not right here. My car, ten minutes."
"Your car?"
"Yes, ten minutes."
"But…"
"Don't argue with me," he said softly, moving in closer to her. "Ten minutes."
"Fine," she said, taking a step back. "Ten minutes." He moved past her back down towards the CID office and she felt her heart rate start to rise with anxiety at the prospect of being alone with him. She would have to tell him about her transfer request and that, coupled with everything else, was enough to make her wish she could just run far away.
XXXX
He got to the car before she did, having slipped back into the office and then made a big show about needing to go and speak to one of his snouts. Fortunately, he hadn't run into Kim, knowing as he did, that she would probably want some sort of debrief over what had happened with the CPS. A few moments later, Christina emerged from the custody area and made her way over towards him. "Get in."
"Charming," she muttered, before opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat. Gunning the engine, he pulled out of the yard into the street and began driving in the direction of Canley Fields. She said nothing and he had no intention of starting any conversation until they were parked, and he could give her his full attention. Ten minutes or so later, he pulled into the carpark near the playground and switched the engine off before twisting in his seat to face her.
"I was over at CPS this morning, giving them my statement."
"How did it go?"
"Well, I didn't tell them you were a slag, if that's what you mean."
"Why not?" she queried, her tone harsh. "You said you would."
"Because I'm not the total bastard that I like to make out sometimes and, at the end of the day, we both know that you being a slag is about as far from reality as you can get. I told them the truth, as well as a few things they apparently didn't know, like the fact Stewart assaulted you in the pub that night and threw a glass at you at your house. You should have told them about all that when you gave your own statement."
"Yeah, well it didn't seem relevant."
"Everything in this type of situation is relevant, Chris. It shows an escalation of behaviour." He paused. "Anyway, I didn't bring you here to talk about the CPS."
"So, what did you want to talk about?"
"I want the truth."
"About what?"
"About why you threatened to label me a rapist."
"I've told you; because I needed you to let me out of the room."
"Why?"
"Because I needed to get out."
"Why?"
"Look, stop this. I'm not a suspect for you to interrogate, all right?" She yanked off her seatbelt and opened the car door, jumping out and slamming it almost before he had time to react. A fraction of a second later, he followed suit, pursuing her as she strode across the grass away from him.
"You need to give me a proper answer! Something a bit more than I needed to get out. I think I deserve that at least, don't you?"
She stopped walking and turned to face him. "I knew if I didn't get out of the room right then and there that we'd end up back in bed together. You weren't listening to me when I was telling you I didn't love you so…I needed something else. I'm not proud of what I said, but it was the first thing that came into my mind, the worst thing that came into my mind. But I would never have gone through with it. I only said it for a reaction."
"Well, you got one. Was it the one you wanted?"
"I suppose so."
"What did you mean when you said you needed me to hate you?"
She turned away again. "Nothing."
"Oh, come on! You can't just say something like that and then leave it hanging with no explanation!"
"And it's taken you this long to ask me for one?" she bit back. "You've had all week but instead you've just gone out of your way to ignore me, deliberately snub me, act as if I'm not even there…"
"And why do you think I've had to do that?" he replied, stepping in front of her. "You think it's been easy for me having you back at the nick? Seeing you day in and day out after five weeks apart with all that's been said? It's been hell! There's been times when I've tried to hate you, as you requested, even times when I thought I did but I don't. I can't. I can't just switch off my feelings and I don't think you can either. So, tell me, what did you mean when you said you needed me to hate you?"
"Don't do this…"
"Christina…"
"Please…" she started to back away from him. "Please don't make this harder than it's already been. Just…just shout at me, treat me like shit, do all the things that you said you would to make my life difficult, please."
"I can't do that."
"I don't love you…"
"Yes, you do!" He reached forward and took hold of her arms. "And no amount of pretending you don't is going to convince me otherwise!" She met his gaze, her eyes shining again with unshed tears. "Tell me the truth."
"I don't want you to leave the job," she quietly. "I don't want you giving that up for me when it's who you are. I thought, if I made you angry enough then you would stop caring about me and then that wouldn't be an option. I don't want you to resent me, Frank. I'd rather have you hate me because I threatened to report you for a terrible crime than ever have you resent me."
Things started to fall into place. "So, you said what you said hoping I would be angry with you, enough to turn against you and forget any idea of leaving the job to be with you?" She nodded mutely. "You'd rather I hate you then resent you…do you have any idea how completely insane that sounds?!"
"It worked, didn't it? All those things you said to me in Brighton about how you'd make my life hard at the nick, about how you'd label me a slag…"
"Yeah, and I haven't done any of it, have I? Why? Because I can't. I've just told you; I can't turn off my feelings for you."
"But you could, given time. You said you would be able to."
"Even if I could, I don't want to. I'm furious about what you said you'd do but, deep down, it hasn't changed how I feel about you, not for one moment." She held his gaze and the tension between them felt almost unbearable. "Do you love me?" For the longest time, she simply looked at him, her eyes full, then she nodded, and he felt a rush of relief. "Chris…"
"No, don't," she twisted out of his grip, away from his touch. "We can't do this right now."
"What?"
"It's best if we just…don't." She wiped her hand across her eyes. "I've put in for a transfer."
He stared at her, "You've done what?"
"I spoke to Reid earlier, asked her to put the wheels in motion. She said she would make some calls and come back to me by the end of the day."
"You stupid cow…"
"Why is it stupid? Why is it stupid to want to get away from the place, away from you?"
"Because you've just admitted that you still love me."
"So?"
"So…?" he shook his head in disbelief. "If you love me, why would you want to get away from me?"
"Because I can't deal with being at Sun Hill and you acting the way you have been. I can't deal with the looks and the silence and the…"
"It's not going to be like that."
"It is like that!"
"Not now, not anymore. You love me, I love you. Nothing's changed from before."
She shook her head, "Everything's changed, Frank. People know about us and a lot more are going to find out once the case comes to trial."
"If it comes to trial. I don't believe for one minute that Stewart is going to let it get that far. He knows what he's done. He wouldn't have come into the nick and confessed if he didn't. We can go back to how we were before it happened. All right, we'll have to keep it a secret, but we can still…"
"No."
"Look…" he took hold of her again, feeling her slip away and unwilling to let it happen again. "You're not thinking clearly right now. A lot of things have been said and done but…I need you, and you need me. If this thing is going to blow up in our faces, one way or another, we're going to need each other."
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and he waited, full of hopeful expectation, until she looked at him again. "I think it might be better if we went back to being friends…colleagues. I just feel…" she shook her head. "I don't know what I feel. Sometimes, I just can't think straight. Sometimes I think I should do one thing and then another, feel one way and then another…I wonder if I'm losing my mind."
"You're not," he replied, "but you've been through a lot lately so…maybe you're right." She looked at him in surprise. "Maybe we would be better off right now as friends." He hated hearing himself say the words, fully aware that it was the last thing he wanted but mindful that pushing her in the direction he wanted her to go could only result in him pushing her away. He'd had practice at that before, when he had desperately wanted her to leave Stewart, and he didn't want to risk what he knew they could still have.
"It would mean, literally, just being friends," she blinked. "Nothing more than that."
"I do know what the definition of a friend is," he said, releasing her from his grip. "None of that for a start. Can I give you some friendly advice?" She raised her eyebrows. "You never took up the offering of counselling after what happened in Patterson's club, when you should have. This time…"
"I know," she interrupted him. "I know."
"Well then." He hesitated, his recent activities playing on his mind. "If we're only friends, maybe I don't need to tell you this, but I reckon I should."
"Tell me what?"
"You're not the only one who's felt a bit all over the place recently, I've been a bit messed up myself since what happened in Brighton and let's just say, I've recently found a bit of comfort in female company."
"Fiona?"
"Yeah, and another bird when she wasn't available." He felt a sudden wave of embarrassment. "I'm sorry."
She blinked rapidly. "If we're just friends, it isn't really any of my business who you sleep with, is it?"
"No, I suppose not." Silence descended again, characterised by its slight awkwardness at their newfound status. "So, I suppose we better get back to the factory then."
"Yeah," she agreed softly as they turned back towards the car. "I suppose we better."
XXXX
"You've…changed your mind?"
"Yes Ma'am," she hovered nervously in front of Kim's desk. "I'm sorry if I wasted your time this morning but I've had a chance to think more on it and I think it would actually be better if I stayed where I was for now, especially given all that might happen in the next few months." Kim regarded her steadily and she felt an increasing sense of awkwardness under the other woman's gaze.
"Well, I won't say that I'm not pleased, if a little bemused by all this. Perhaps, fortunately, the only opening I was able to locate was one at Bishop's Lane and the DCI there wasn't entirely convinced he actually needed anyone at all. So, if you're quite sure this time, I can ring him back and tell him to forget it."
"Yes Ma'am. I was also wondering…"
"Yes?"
"The offer of counselling that you mentioned last week. I was hoping it might still be available and, if so, I'd like to take it up."
"Well, I'm pleased," Kim smiled. "I think it's important that you do certainly consider talking with someone. I'll look out the details and pass them on to you."
"Thank you, Ma'am." Letting herself out of the office, she returned to her desk and the work that awaited her.
"Oh, there you are," Mike greeted her. "We were starting to think you'd taken up residence in Reid's office."
"Yeah, got your own table and chair in there, teacher's pet," Jim quipped.
"Hardly," she replied, sitting down and then meeting Viv's gaze.
"You all right?" Viv mouthed and she nodded in response. "Fancy a drink tonight? Bit of girls' chat? I was thinking about roping in June, Norika and Cathy too."
She hesitated for a brief moment and then nodded. Viv might know, but if anyone else suspected anything, it was just gossip…rumours…and she could shut them down if she needed to. Besides, they were just friends now. Nothing to talk about. "Sounds like a plan."
"Excellent! Oh Guv, any chance of next Friday off?"
Christina glanced up as Frank came out of his office. "Next Friday, Martella? You do like planning ahead. Some sort of special occasion?"
"Not really, no. Just fancied a long weekend, that's all."
"Yeah well, I'm not sure the workload of a busy CID office can cope with you just taking days off whenever you fancy it."
"I am entitled to annual leave, Guv."
"Yeah, I know, more's the pity. Leave it with me and I'll have a look at the rotas. Anyway, we've had a call from uniform. A child's gone missing from Park Lane Primary School. Helen Miller, 7 years old, didn't turn up after lunchtime. Parents are going crazy as you might expect. You fit?"
Christina looked down at the papers in front of her, mentally calculating what she was going to prioritise to do first, as silence greeted Frank's comment.
"Oi, earth to WDC Lewis." She looked up, startled, and met his gaze. "I said, are you fit?"
"Oh…erm…yes…" Getting to her feet, she glanced at Viv who smiled and nodded imperceptibly.
"Good," Frank said, tossing her his car keys. "You can drive."