by Pete Adams
‘Michael’s right, you’re a girl’s blouse,’ Colleen said, confirming what everyone, except Jack, accepted as fact.
Michael helped his dad, ‘We can take him, Mandy.’
Jack looked at his son, then Colleen, a face that feigned innocence, and yet knowing. He stole a glance at Mandy and left it for her to answer; he had head wobbling to do.
‘I will be staying tonight,’ she smiled, ‘not that anything is going to happen, is it, Jack?’
‘I have my iron jock strap.’
‘Hungry?’ Michael asked, embarrassed.
‘‘Orse between two bread vans, son.’
‘You’ve had a lot of anaesthetic, Jack, don’t eat too much or you’ll be sick.’
‘Mandy, I’m captain Sensible,’ and as if to prove it he did the Benny Hill salute with his good hand, which involved saluting with the palm inward, crooked against the forehead, tongue sticking slightly out of the corner of the mouth, and saying with a lisping slur, ‘Yeth, thir.’
Michael cooked tagliatelle to go with the sauce he’d made, one of his Dad’s favourites, chilli tomato with mixed seafood, extra jalapenos on the side. Colleen put her arms around Michael from behind, cuddled, and kissed his neck, ‘She’s staying over.’
‘Oooh err matron,’ Michael pulled her to him, ‘he will ruin it somehow.’
‘I've no doubt he will,’ Mandy was there, ‘but, I’m made of sturdy stuff, and put the Jalapenos away. If I’m sleeping with a farting machine, I might need a head start.’ Colleen blushed, she could not believe this woman she had grown to consider quite remarkable. Mandy read the thought process, ‘Colleen, darling, you need to understand this about men; can’t live with 'em, can’t kill ‘em.’
‘I heard that,’ Jack shouted from the living room.
‘Shut your face, gobshite.’
‘But your gobshite, right?’
‘You are that honeybun,’ she responded in a sickly-sweet manner, bending her knees, winking at Colleen, as she took the bowl of tagliatelle through to the table.
‘Oh, great tangled telly,’ groan, a predicable joke. ‘Misery is optional,’ Jack followed up, disappointed the joke unexpectedly dive-bombed. They were all tired, had little energy to keep up with Jack’s banal banter, but even so they humoured him, and Mandy observed this was the way with most people; she’d not worked out how he achieved that, yet. Jack thought the dinner felt comfortable except, if he was honest, he was feeling a little nervous about going to bed with Mandy. It had been a long time, and he was not firing on all cylinders. He’d always imagined the first time would be a steamy, passionate event, the thought of performing not an issue, and he would be brilliant; naturellament.
‘What're you thinking, Jack?’
‘He’s thinking about going to bed, Colleen. I know this man.’
‘Wrong, babes, I was wondering where the extra jalapenos were,’ Colleen put her fist to her mouth to unsuccessfully stifle a giggle. ‘Well, okay, I was thinking about going to bed.’
Mandy stood and took him by his good hand, ‘I had better get you undressed then, are you okay going to the toilet or would you like me to hold it for you.’
‘That’s it, I’m officially scared now.’
Colleen and Mandy shared a look, ‘Treat-em mean, keep-em keen,’ said together.
Mandy was gentle following the torturous trip up the stairs with stick man, ‘Where are your pyjamas, Jack?’
‘I don’t wear pyjamas.’
‘You animal, well, I wear nightdresses.’
‘Mmmm, I’ve imagined you in a silk nightie.’
‘You’d better buy me some then, or its flannelette for you boy.’ She pulled back the quilt and helped him to lower himself onto the bed, tenderly kissing some of his many scratches. She stood back and slowly undressed, ‘Not disappointed, Jack?’
‘Amanda darling, you are everything I imagined, and more.’
‘Right answer,’ whispered into his ear as she slid into the bed beside him and snuggled up. He winced, ‘I hope it’s not going to be like this all night? Oh no, perhaps not.’
Jack flushed, ‘You brazen hussy you.’
‘Yes, but your brazen hussy, I think?’
‘You are right now.’
Sparrow’s fart and Jack woke first. Mandy was still asleep, it had not been a dream, and they had even made love, uncomfortable for him, and probably not the best experience for Mandy, but they had concocted he felt. She stirred, found Jack looking into her sleepy eyes. She eased closer and he cursed the Egyptians. Her hands stroked his tummy and he was aroused, lowered his head to kiss her and moved his pink hand out of the way, brought his good hand over, slid down to meet her face and felt her bum and she mewed, ‘Right answer,’ he said.
‘Jack, I want you to court me, I don’t want to skip the getting to know you bit.’
He had that look most men have when scratching around for a safe reply, ‘I will, just don’t tell my mates,’ there you go, sorted.
‘You are a child, but if it gets me my way, okay.’
Their bodies slid together and Jack sensed the pain ease to be replaced with a tangible rapture. They made slow and gentle love, the only sort he felt able to do, and it was a little better. When they eventually decided to get up, Jack waited while she showered and changed. The other bathroom was being used by Colleen and he thought best not to pollute the atmosphere just yet, he was after all a considerate man.
Mandy padded back into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around her body, another on her head, like a turban. How do women do that? Jack had tried, when nobody was looking of course, and it never stayed on his head or his body for that matter, not that he cared, but on a woman, it looked gorgeous, and on Mandy, sexy indeed. She sat on the edge of the bed, her head to the side, rubbing her hair with the turban; he imagined this is what they did in the Punjab. Jack got out of bed, and naked, waddled to her, bent down, resisting a wince, and kissed her. She put her hand on his bottom, rubbed it gently and he impressed himself. She noticed, ‘Have we time?’ They did, and Jack felt they were slowly getting to know each other, and it was good.
Mandy thought there is time, and he must be in pain.
Thirty-Seven
They stopped at a Costa Coffee and had breakfast; Jack his fix of espresso, Americano for Mandy, almond croissants. Jack showed her how it looked like the bun on Jackie’s hair, she laughed, he suggested best not to tell Jackie, she agreed, and his fear morphed to a smile. They arrived at the station closer to lunchtime. Mandy tipped her toes and whispered in his ear, ‘I'm very happy, Jack.’
With the delicacy of a hippo, Jack nibbled her ear, ‘I should hope so, d’you see how much it was in Costa?’ she kissed him once more, and allowing a discreet distance, they walked in together.
“Ooh err matron” from Sid, they looked at each other and moved along after having greeted Sid politely; his family were well. Up the stairs, Jack a few steps behind, he was sore, which was his excuse, but she liked him looking at her backside. Along the corridor they entered the CP room to a resounding “Oooh err matron” and playing on a loop on a computer screen was Mandy and Jack canoodling in the car park just now. Christ, she thought, looked over at Jack who was waving his pink hand in general acknowledgement.
The twat’ll be taking a bow soon, she thought. Then he bowed.
Mandy put her hand up to get some attention. ‘I want you to know that once I got past the skid marks, I managed to get into Jack’s pants last night for a passable shag, that is all,’ there was a cheer, and mimicking Jack, she waved her hand and bowed herself. ‘Now, shall we get back to work?’
Jo got straight in, ‘Commander said to call him, and, Jack, will you call Father Mike, confession? You might just have something to tell him today,’ hearty laughter that warranted a spin in the chairs to look at him. They lived in hope that one day he may be thoroughly embarrassed.
Mandy turned to Jack, ‘Do I have any reason to be jealous of Father Mike? I thought those blokes were celi
bate,’ she punched the air as the crowd roared “Goal” and she pretended to dribble a ball, doing some keepy-uppys along the way to the door. Jack tutted, mentioned juvenile behaviour, picked up the phone, sat down with no wincing, after all what was the point, you got no symphony here, he should work somewhere where they appreciated good wincing. Mandy turned at the door and said to anyone who was listening, ‘Is there a briefing scheduled?’
‘Five, Ma’am.’
‘Thank you Nobby, one sensible person, hope your mum didn’t keep you on the naughty step too long.’ Another big laugh and Jack noted, to his credit, Nobby Manners, the Commander’s son, enjoying it too; he will fit in nicely.
Mike O’Brien was on the line. ‘Mike, you called?’
Later in the afternoon Mandy stood by the door of the CP room and looked in, for something to do. The afternoon had passed in earnest quiet work, it often did after a few days of excitement. Tapping from KFC, Nobby and Alice Springs compiling their reports together, Kettle and Wally doing something on Nobby’s wall, she noticed Moriarty was up there, but changed to Bore-a-tarty. Behind the wonky screens a gentle busy murmur from the Sissies. Jo-Jums was writing, probably mapping next moves; a strategy maybe. She needs to be promoted she thought, she’s a DI all day long. If Jack gets canned after the Pugwash debacle then she would be a natural to take his place; she felt terrible inside, ached for his pain, even if he did bring most of it on himself, looked at him asleep in his deckchair and not a person fazed by it, nobody resenting he could be pitching in and helping. This was his team, and she felt a sudden anger bordering on rage towards Pugwash. If he brings Jack down, she will get him, even if it’s just 12 points on his licence.
Sensitive to Jack sleeping, she turned to a metallic clank, clank, noise to see Dolly with Meesh following, dragging Dolly’s aerosol cans like she just got married. As the little girl came through the door Mandy noticed amongst the various cloths, a raggedy teddy bear. Thanks, Dolly. Mandy wiggled her fingers, put one to her mouth, ‘Shush, Jack’s asleep,’ and flicked her head towards the deckchair, the incongruity of it struck her, how on earth did one man affect virtually a whole police force?
Meesh picked up on the signal and tippy toed to Mandy, not realising it was inconsequential, the noise of the trailing cans. Clunking the bag down she grabbed Mandy’s leg for a hug; he still slept. Mandy was amazed at how warm inside the hug and the image of Jack made her feel. Dolly registered a look of approval, but Jackie, who had followed them up the stairs, looked from the corridor and warned with her eyes; not too close. Mandy knew this, of course she did, but she was only human and her feelings were all over the place right now, witness what she did with Jack last night, and this morning, despite her better judgement telling her to wait, but it was lovely, and it was lovely with Meesh as well; so sod Jackie.
‘Meesh and I are going to polish Jack,’ and Meesh giggled at Dolly’s whispered aside, ‘so if you two need to talk,’ flicking her head to Jackie. They did, and Mandy lead Jackie into her office giving her the PVC chair which she dragged to the front of her desk.
Forever the analyst, Jackie raised her lush eyebrows, ‘Jack always takes that chair. He says I have these two comfy chairs in front of my desk to give me a psychological advantage, they are lower than my own, and the backs slope.’
‘And do you?’ Jackie asked.
‘Maybe, without being aware?’
‘As a woman in this job you have to take it where you can. Do you mind if I say something?’
‘No, but I know what you’re going to say.’
‘You do?’
Mandy gave a slow tired nod, ‘You’re going to tell me to slow up with Jack, that he’s not over his wife’s death...’
‘Not in so many words,’ Jackie interrupted, ‘I was going to say that until quite recently I thought Jack a shallow chauvinistic arsehole. I liked you, could see how you felt, and thought, how can I tell you?’
Mandy’s face was wide awake, ‘Well, tell me straight, why don’t you?’
‘Listen to me, and don’t get all huffy, and yes you are. I’ve seen Jack in a different light these last few days. I’ve had cause to talk to people and his name was invariably involved in those conversations, and, I may have misjudged the man.’
Mandy sat back, her face a picture of astonishment, ‘It doesn’t surprise me, as Jack himself would say, he’s an enema. Me, I think he aspires to being an enigma, but he’s just a nice bloke rubbing along, living his philosophy, misery is optional. He is sensitive and caring, ugly as shit, but attractive at the same time, has a heart and it’s big, and I want him to get to know me, but if he only half gets to know me, and over a time, I will be happy. He cares about what is happening to this country and I am even thinking of going on a demonstration with him, if the weather is fine; Jack’s one that. But most of all, Jackie, I love the twat.’
‘I know you do, Mandy, and I wanted to say he is clearly not over his wife. You will help him with that, because you are right for him.’
Mandy smiled and leaned forward, her elbows on the desk and her chin in her hands, she released a sigh. ‘Thank you, I appreciate that,’ but knew there had to be a sting in the tail and waited for it.
‘Meesh is a different story, however. The other women are talking, convinced you will keep them safe, and I hope and pray you can. They will testify, so you have your man. They are however, fucked up, especially Meesh, seeing her own mother murdered, and maybe Biscuit as well. She will break, and we have to watch for the signs. She has bonded with Gail and her family, which is good, although it’s chaos in that house. It’s Jack, and you I worry about. Can you do what is right for the kid?’
Mandy still had her chin in her cupped hands, staring at this radiant and elegant black woman, hair in a croissant, ‘What is right?’
‘There are no rights or wrongs, just consistency, which has to come from Gail and her family, but I think, Jack, you, and now Dolly by the looks of it, will need to be there, as sort of, and I hate the word, Godparents?’
Mandy became animated, ‘Oh well, Jack’s your man there, him and Father O’Brien are as thick as thieves,’ and she lifted her head out of her hands so she could cross her fingers and wave them in the air.
‘All may not be what it seems. I think Jack likes Father O’Brien and they respect each other, and if Jack has someone to talk to, then that is good, after all, you have me.’
‘And who do you have, Jackie?’
‘I have Gill.’ Mandy looked a bit taken aback. ‘Don’t look so shocked, if it wasn’t that you have so clearly fancied Jack since I've known you, I would have had a go at you myself. Jack says you are a very attractive woman, he talked to me, he described your face with his eye shut, and that’s how I know he loves you, because he described the woman I see.’
‘I thought something had changed when Meesh said you told her Jack called you Phil, and it was funny.’
Jackie laughed, ‘You know me well.’
‘I’ve had my suspicions about Father Mike,' Mandy said, 'but maybe, seen in a prudential light, it is a good relationship.’ PP she thought, but didn’t punch the air, not wishing to show this woman who fancied her, she was as big a twat as Jack.
‘So, too much happening? My advice, take it slow. Jack’s like a dog on heat, but at least he’s getting regularly injured and that will slow him down, but I can see by your face that may not necessarily be the case. Don’t worry, let it happen naturally, and try not to let the wise head interfere too much. What’s happening with the case now?’
Mandy blushed and Jackie had her confirmation, ‘There’s a press conference at five, watch that if you can, but we’re all but done. We haven’t caught the top men, but we’ll keep trying. The spooks have the other bits, and Paolo’s happy he has a nick, and a murder no less.’
‘And Jack, what does he feel.’
Mandy sat back and thought, rubbed her tired eyes, ‘Jack will not let it go, even if they bust him at the tribunal. God knows what he will do whe
n he gets to sixty-five?’
‘He will have you by then, what does he feel about the tribunal?’
‘Frankly, Pugwash has him banged to rights. Jack says, you always come up against these expert committee men, practiced in the art of arse protection, manipulation, and nothing else. Jack’s a doer, he acts, and sometimes he gets it wrong, but his motivation is always for the good, he has instinct, even though we take the piss out of his eye, the so-called twitching. Did you hear about the Osama thing?’
‘Did I, it’s all over the place, what a hoot.’
Mandy nodded and laughed with Jackie, ‘Well, Jack is convinced that all is not right in that State of Denmark, and he refers back to his eye.’
‘What do you think about his eye, Mands?’
‘Did you not hear me? He’s an ugly bastard, but I do not see the eye.’
Jackie’s eyes rolled, ‘No, you plank, thank the Lord I never got fixed up with you. I meant do you think he has intuition, and does he have a point about Osama’s, and more to the point will you back him?’
‘Yes, to all of those, except I would make a wonderful and supportive Dyke.’
‘I know, and it’s my loss, and Jack’s gain.’
‘I’ll keep you posted just in cases, you know that’s one of Jack’s, don’t you?’
‘What?’
‘Just in cases, from the film Love Actually; Jack loves Rom-Coms, the daft bugger.’
Jackie had a light bulb moment, ‘I wondered why I had been saying it lately, Gill must have thought I was stupid.’
‘I am sure she would never think that.’
Jackie stood, ‘I must take Meesh back to Gail’s.’
Mandy bounced into action and headed for the door, ‘I’ll wake Jack, he would hate to miss her.’
Jackie’s face had a nonplussed grin, ‘You were not kidding with the shushing, Jack’s asleep in the deckchair?’