24th December 1988

"There should be a law against working on Christmas Eve," Mike moaned, tossing his notebook down on the desk. "In fact, there should be a law against any sort of crime being committed on Christmas Eve as well. I've got a million things I need to get before the shops shut."

"Typical male," Christina replied. "Leaving everything to the last minute as usual."

"Oh and I suppose you've got everything all wrapped with bows on."

"I do as it happens. But only because Stewart thought it would be a good idea for us to host Christmas this year so his family are all arriving from Leicester this afternoon and expecting me to produce a fantastic Christmas dinner tomorrow. I've got too much prep to do tonight to be fannying about buying presents."

"Lucky you," Mike said, "I can't think of anything worse than being in charge of the cooking."

"No, but then you've got a mother who does it every year. We're not all that lucky." She made a face at the papers in front of her. "I don't know, some of these mock papers are ridiculously complicated. It can't be that hard being a sergeant surely?"

"You're not revising are you?"

"Yes, of course I am. The exam's in less than two weeks!"

"Burnside will do his nut if he finds out you're doing that on his time," Mike warned her. "I thought you were meant to be collating the statements on that prostitute rape."

"I've done half of them and I'll get the other half done once I've finished this." She bent her head again. "Besides, Burnside's not here, is he? Privilege of rank giving himself Christmas Eve off."

"He's in the pub."

"Exactly."

"Which means that he could pop back at any moment to discover you skiving."

"I'm hardly skiving, this is important!"

"Hmmm...I seem to recall him not thinking it was that important the last time he caught you."

Christina didn't say anything, though she well remembered the incident. Despite having told her she would have his support in her quest for promotion, Frank seemed hell bent on making it as difficult for her as possible, telling her that she couldn't use any work time to revise and that if she couldn't find the time to do it at home then maybe she wasn't cut out for the time management requirements of a sergeant after all. He wasn't the only one. Stewart had been shocked when she had actually formally applied, told her he thought she was making a huge mistake and had redoubled his efforts to try to get her pregnant, rolling off with a "this time will be the charm" after every encounter. It had gotten to the point where she dreaded going to bed with him at night and was contemplating a secret visit to the doctor for a prescription for the pill. He had also started to come up with various 'projects' that could only be completed at the weekend, thereby forcing her to forfeit any studying time she might have had at home.

"I bet Stewart isn't chuffed."

"About what?" she asked, her mind coming back to the matter in hand,

"About you putting in for Sergeant," Mike replied. "He doesn't strike me as the kind of bloke who'd like to share rank with his wife."

"And you agree with him, I suppose."

"I'm not married, am I?"

"No, funny that."

She had to admit that her husband had actually been in a good humour over the last few weeks, no doubt chuffed with the fact that David Nelson had been found not guilty with regards to the possession and supply charges and also in respect of the assault on her. "Best result all round," he had told her, without so much as the slightest concern for what she had been through. If anything, Frank had been more sympathetic, promising her that if Nelson ever found himself in custody at Sun Hill again, justice would be meted out appropriately. She hadn't wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but it was nice to feel as though her boss cared about some aspects of her work, even if he showed disdain for others.

Of course, Stewart had waxed eloquently on many occasions about how Sun Hill had steamed in on the squad's operation, how stupid CPS had been not to see the bigger picture and pull the plug before the case had reached court and how much of an arsehole Frank was. Mostly, she had just let him rant, biting back on one occasion when he had been calling her boss all the names under the sun.

"You've changed your tune," Stewart had scoffed. "I thought you couldn't stand him."

"It doesn't matter what I think about him," she had replied, "but I'm not going to let you constantly badmouth the man for doing his bloody job!"

"He's a chancer, a complete chancer."

"Oh, and you're not?" The comment hadn't gone down well, and he hadn't spoken to her for three days until she had decided to be the bigger person and apologise. She couldn't help but think that all the negative aspects of his character had all started to come to the surface since she had started working with Frank. He had never given two hoots over what she got up to under Galloway's command and, on occasion, she harked back to what Harry Grimm had said about marriage being no barrier for Frank. Maybe Stewart thought he was interested in her. The thought made her shiver. As if she would ever even contemplate doing anything with him.

"Oh, this is pointless," Mike sighed heavily, pushing his chair back. "It'll have to wait. I've too much to do."

"So you're just going to leave?"

"You can cover for me, can't you?"

"And say what?"

"You're a resourceful girl. You'll need that to be a sergeant. You'll think of something." With an enigmatic smile and a flick of, what was highly like to be, an expensive scarf, he was gone, leaving her alone in the CID office, the only sound being the faint hum from the refrigerator and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Thankfully, the peace gave her the time she needed to work her way through the questions in the mock paper and she had just satisfactorily finished when the sound of voices coming up the stairs indicated that her boss had returned. He and Ted came into the office, the smell of whisky and fags in their wake, laughing at some joke that they would probably consider that she wouldn't find amusing.

"You finished those statements yet?" Frank asked by way of greeting.

"Almost," she lied, pushing the exam paper under her notebook and surreptitiously moving the statements around on her desk. "I've just got a few to type up."

He glanced at his watch and then narrowed his eyes at her. "I thought that's what you were supposed to be focusing on today."

"It is."

"Then how come it's four hours later and you're still not done?"

"Well, I…"

"I can imagine." He strode over to her desk, pulling the notebook up into the air, revealing the exam paper beneath. "I thought so."

"Come on Guv," she said, shooting a look at Ted who merely shrugged and turned away.

"I've told you before, not on my time. Or do you think the rape of a prostitute isn't worth you putting the effort in?"

"You weren't all that keen for us to investigate in the first place," she reminded him. "Something about it not being a crime?" It was an understatement. Belly laughs had gone around the room when the victim had come in to make her complaint. With any allegation of rape requiring to be investigated by a detective inspector or above, Frank had made little secret of the fact that it was a pointless exercise, designed to take up too much of his precious time, and had promptly allocated it to her, declaring her to be the nearest thing the victim could relate to. She had hoped that he meant a woman as opposed to suggesting she herself was some sort of tom, but she hadn't been completely sure.

"Well now you've gone to the bother of getting all those statements, I'd prefer you saw it through rather than kick it to one side in favour of furthering your career."

"That's not what I'm doing," she sighed, "but I need to revise."

"That's why it's called homework. You're supposed to do it at home." He paused. "Or doesn't hubby let you?"

Christina glanced over at Ted again, his eyebrow raised, clearly as keen as Frank was to hear the answer to that one. She paused, toying with how honest to be, and eventually deciding she no longer cared to pretend. "No, he doesn't, as it happens. He's not too thrilled with me for applying."

"Oh," Frank said, "like that is it? Jealous, is he?"

"Hardly. He's already a Sergeant himself."

"Doesn't want to be matched rank-wise by his wife then."

"No." Frank didn't say anything for a long moment, and she found herself under the scrutiny of his microscopic gaze for longer than she felt entirely comfortable with. He had a way of making her feel that he was analysing her and repeatedly finding her wanting. "But anyway, like you said, I shouldn't be doing it on your time." Lifting the statements again, she started flicking through them, aware that both men were still watching her.

"On this occasion only," Frank said finally. "But you need to set some boundaries in your house, Christina, otherwise you're never going to get anywhere. What time are you supposed to be clocking off?"

"Four."

"Right, then you've got another hour to get as much done as you can, haven't you? Whatever you haven't got finished will just have to wait."

"So, you're not going to make me stay late?" she asked, aware of the pathetic note of hopefulness that her tone encompassed.

"No, but whatever's left you need to have done when you get back next week. I'm not having CPS give me a hard time about the proper preparation of this case into the dawning age of 1989, understand?"

"Yes Guv, thanks."

"Don't thank me. You pass this exam and you'll most likely be leaving this cushy place for God knows where. And you won't have a decent guvnor like me watching your back."

Before she could reply, he had swept back into his office, closing the door with a bang in the process. Ted lit up a cigarette and blew smoke in her direction. "Consider it a Christmas gift."

"From who, the Grinch?"

"Oh, come on. He could have bollocked you for that and made you stay late to finish those statements. If you do make Sergeant, you'll have to manage your time better."

"Well with the example you set, that shouldn't be too difficult." She smiled sweetly at him. "Isn't that right, Sergeant Roach?"

"Don't knock it darling. There's far worse than me or him to deal with in the Met. You'll find that out soon enough."

XXXX

Michael had not seen fit to put in an appearance that afternoon, nor had he darkened the door of the pub, so the only explanation Frank was able to come up with was that he was skiving in order to finish his Christmas shopping at Harrods, or wherever it was that people of his social class spent their money. He could imagine the younger man cooing over cashmere and gold-leaf fountain pens like a kid in a sweet shop and the thought made him roll his eyes. Yuppies. They spent too much and expected too much in return. Thank God for a normal family, like his own.

Christmas Day would be what it was every year. His sister, Pat, always put on a good spread and her house was always filled with noise and laughter, the product of having a husband, four offspring, a mother and a mother-in-law, not to mention himself. He enjoyed the atmosphere, playing with the kids, though the eldest was getting a bit too smart-mouthed for his own good, then drinking himself into quiet oblivion with his brother-in-law before stumbling home in a taxi and then spending Boxing Day in the local boozer. Ideal. No stress over keeping a wife and kids of his own happy. Just doing his own thing.

He looked out of his window into the CID office at those who were still pretending to work. Ted was leafing through the newspaper, a glass of whisky on his desk and a cigarette in his hand, Jim was on the phone, his feet up on his desk and Christina was furiously working on the typewriter. Looking at them, he could well imagine what each of their Christmas Day's would look like. Ted would either be in the pub or sharing the bed of a woman he barely knew, Jim would most likely be well-mannered and well-behaved at his mother's table, waiting for the chance to scoot off to meet Sonia or Carol or whatever little tart he happened to be seeing and as for Christina, well, he wasn't entirely sure what her day would resemble. He knew that her in-laws were coming from Leicester, but he hadn't been able to gauge how pleased or not she was at the prospect. She sighed suddenly and threw her hands up, reaching for the Tippex beside her and shaking her head, and he concluded that before she left for the holiday, he needed to know.

"Oi!" he shouted, not even bothering to rise from his chair or open the office door. All three of them looked in his direction and he gestured to Christina. "You. Now." A look of annoyance flashed across her face and he saw her glance at the clock before getting to her feet and moving towards the door.

Opening it, she leaned halfway in, "Guv?"

"Well come in and close the door."

"I'm just…"

"Now."

Rolling her eyes slightly, she did as he asked and then hovered in front of him, clearly not keen to sit or give the impression that she had the time to chat. "What have I done now?"

"Nothing. How are you getting on?"

"I'm on the last one now."

"Good." He smiled at her.

She continued to stare at him, her eyebrows slowly raising as she clearly waited for him to say more. "Is that it?"

"Eager to get away?"

"Well I've got a lot to do, so…"

"Of course, you're hosting this year, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"How many have you got coming?"

"Four. My in-laws and Stewart's brother and his wife."

"Looking forward to it?"

"I suppose so."

"You don't sound too convinced."

She frowned at him, "I'm surprised you're interested, Guv."

"The wellbeing of my officers is always at the forefront of my mind, Constable."

"Really?" A smile curved around the corner of her mouth.

"Yes," he replied, marginally irritated that she would think his commitment to his troops lacking. "How long are they staying?"

"Until the 30th. They're heading back north in time for New Year."

"Well, the exam's not until, what, middle of January?"

"It's the 8th."

"Plenty of time. You should try and relax a bit, enjoy Christmas with the family before things get busy around here again."

"When are things not busy around here?"

"Right now, if you judge it by the actions of those two out there." He paused. "If you want this promotion, then it's yours for the taking. But you have to make sure you have your priorities right."

"Meaning what?" she frowned.

"Meaning…family is more important. There's no point in getting your old man's back up over this now, is there? You're young. You've got plenty years ahead of you to climb the greasy pole."

"So, what you're saying is, I'm going to fail, right?"

"That's not what I said…"

"Well, thank you for the vote of confidence, Guv," she got to her feet. "Not that I would expect anything less."

"Hold on a minute." She paused and turned back to face him. "That is not what I meant. All I'm saying is that keeping your marriage together has to be a priority too. Do you want this promotion causing a wedge between the two of you?"

"That's his problem, not mine. Why should I have to sacrifice what I want just because I'm the wife in the scenario? Is that what you would have expected if your ex-wife had been in the job?"

He paused, thinking on the question, never really having considered it before. She had been a secretary, a career not quite on a level with his own. Ruefully, he had to admit that perhaps, deep down, that had been part of the problem. "She wasn't though, so the question is irrelevant."

"Well, you did say that most police marriages don't last, so what else should I expect, right?"

He looked at her for a long moment, trying to get a read on her. "Are you happy?"

"Are you offering me marriage guidance, sir?" she laughed shortly. "Because, if so, I think I'll pass."

"I wouldn't be as presumptuous as to attempt to give any advice to someone who has the perfect relationship now, would I?" She held his gaze, and he could see the conflict playing out beneath the surface. She was loyal, he had to give her that. "Look, all I'm trying to say is, don't make this promotion the rock that all else perishes on. Trust me. I've been there."

She nodded, "Point taken Guv, thanks."

"Right then, get those statements finished and get on your way. Oh, and if you see Michael on your travels, tell him I want an explanation as to why he's seen fit to skive off this afternoon."

She smiled at him again, "Yes Guv, with pleasure."