‘If you and your associates would kindly just disperse and leave the area, we’ll need to take no further action.’ the officer said. ‘Otherwise, we will arrest you all.’
The man glanced back at the others standing behind him. ‘Know when we’re not wanted, don’t we, lads? Okay, we’ll go for the moment. But we know our rights. You mark my words, soon the people will rise up.’ He stared at Sheena, the veins in his reddened forehead standing out. ‘And traitors like you will be the first to be strung up.’
Two more police officers had emerged from the police car and were crossing the street to join them. The man turned and said, ‘Come on, lads. We’ll leave it for now but we’ll be back.’
They began to move away, still chanting ‘Traitor, traitor’, some of them pointing at Sheena.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly to the police officer, ‘I don’t think I helped that. But I felt I couldn’t just ignore them.’
‘You’re in a difficult position, ma’am,’ the officer said, in the same tone he might have used in response to a polite question from the Queen. ‘But we’ll try our best to—’
Sheena never discovered what it was that the officer would try his best to do. The sound of the gunfire was sudden and shocking, the harsh noise echoing around the empty high street.
It took her a moment to realise what she’d heard, and another moment to realise that there was warm blood running down her face.
Chapter Six
Annie knew as soon as she walked into HQ that something had happened. It was like that sometimes. You could sense it. A change in the atmosphere, sometimes positive, sometimes negative. Sometimes, like today, unreadable but still undeniable.
Generally, the ‘something’ was a major incident, most commonly a large-scale road traffic collision, occasionally a high-profile crime. Sometimes it was good news – a significant breakthrough in an ongoing enquiry. Annie had heard nothing on the radio as they’d driven back, though she’d been mainly focused on apologising for her tactless comment about Zoe’s well-being at the crime scene. Zoe had taken the apology with apparent good grace, but she’d remained unusually taciturn for the rest of the journey. Something was wrong, but Annie felt unsure how to probe further.
Back at her desk, she found a Post-it note from Stuart Jennings asking her to pop in to see him when she returned. That was untypical, she thought. Her usual experience was that when Jennings wanted to talk to her he just phoned, regardless of her location or circumstances. Still, best not keep him waiting.
He was on the phone when she poked her head round the door of his office, but he waved her in, ending the call with a curt ‘Got to go now. Speak later.’ It was reassuring to see that she wasn’t the only recipient of his distinctive telephone manner.
Jennings gestured for her to take a seat. ‘I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news. Assuming you’ve not heard already.’
She looked steadily back at him, wondering what the hell this was all about. ‘I’ve heard nothing. Just got back.’
‘There’s been an incident. At Sheena Pearson’s constituency office.’
‘Sheena—?’ She stopped, her mind suddenly filled with more thoughts than she could begin to articulate. ‘What sort of incident?’
‘A shooting.’ He held up his hands. ‘Look, as far as I’m aware, she’s okay. She was wounded—’
‘Wounded?’ Shit. Shit. She and Sheena had talked about the possibility of violence directed at her since her election, but neither of them had really believed it could happen.
‘She’s been taken to the Royal Derby. I’ve just been on to the hospital. They weren’t prepared to say too much, but my understanding is that it’s only superficial. They say she’s stable.’
‘They always say that. I don’t know what the hell it means. Look, I’d better get over there.’
‘Of course. I hope everything’s okay. Take as much time out as you need. Not the best time, but I can hold the fort here.’
She was momentarily tempted to snap back some sharp retort, but she knew she was being unfair. Jennings had his faults, but he seemed a decent man.
‘Thanks, Stuart. I’ll keep you posted once I know anything.’
* * *
As she hurried out of the building, she’d felt as if everyone else already knew what had happened. She could feel their sympathetic or simply curious eyes following her through the office, and she wanted to turn and tell them all that it was none of their business.
The truth was, though, that it was their business, or it soon would be. Sheena was a public figure, and some of these people would be her constituents. Whatever had happened would probably be the lead story on tonight’s television news. This was a big deal.
She only realised quite how big a deal when she reached the hospital. The traffic in the city centre had been nightmarish, and she’d been aware of her anxiety mounting with every tailback. There’d been nowhere to park and in the end she’d just abandoned her car on the roadside, where she’d at least been confident she wouldn’t cause an obstruction.
Outside the hospital, she’d rushed past an outside broadcast van from the regional TV station. Two uniformed officers were standing immediately inside the entrance, presumably stationed there in case any further incidents should occur. Annie was still unsure exactly what had happened. She’d listened to the radio news during the drive over. The story had topped the news as she’d expected, but the detail had been limited, referring only to a ‘suspected shooting’ at the constituency office. Sheena wasn’t mentioned as the victim, and for the first time it had occurred to Annie to wonder if there might be others.
She approached the reception desk, deciding it was likely to be quicker to play this by the book. ‘I’m here to visit Sheena Pearson. I’m her partner.’
The receptionist glanced over at the two officers. ‘I’m afraid we’ve been told to refer any visitors to the two police officers over there.’
Annie nodded her thanks and hurried out to the two officers, this time already brandishing her warrant card. ‘I’m here to visit Sheena Pearson. It’s a personal visit, not official. I’m her partner.’
She tried to contain her impatience as the first officer squinted sceptically at her warrant card. He seemed finally to acknowledge it was genuine. ‘She’s in a private room. I’d better take you up there.’ He glanced at his colleague. ‘You okay for a few minutes, Josh?’
‘Reckon so. Not much sign of anything kicking off here, is there?’
The first officer led her through to the lifts. ‘Dave Reynolds,’ he said, offering his hand. ‘Bit of a shocker, this, isn’t it?’
‘Certainly is for me. Any word on how she is?’ Other than Stuart Jennings’ brief words of reassurance, she still had no idea of Sheena’s condition.
‘No one’s said anything to me, I’m afraid. We’ve just been told to keep an eye out for any trouble.’
‘You expecting any?’
‘I doubt it. It was apparently some far-right protest where it kicked off. There was a worry they might decide to take advantage of the publicity. I reckon they’ll just disappear into the woodwork. That sort always do. Biggest problem’s probably going to be keeping the media out.’
Annie imagined the nationals were already on their way, looking to extract some juicy comment from anyone even peripherally connected to the case. No doubt her own position would be of interest, particularly given her mother’s profile.
None of that mattered much at the moment, though. She wanted only to know what had happened to Sheena.
By the time they reached the third floor she could feel her composure crumbling. She’d managed to hold it together all the way over here, but the anxiety had been gnawing away at her. She just wanted to know.
Reynolds led her on to the ward and gestured to a door at the far end, where a further uniformed officer was sitting. ‘That’s the place.’
One of the nursing staff was already striding over to greet them. ‘Can I help you?’
>
‘I’m here to see Sheena Pearson. I’m her partner. How is she?’
‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ the nurse said. Annie noted that this didn’t entirely answer her question. ‘She’s asleep at the moment.’
‘Can I see her?’
The nurse looked at Reynolds. ‘I don’t know. The police told us…’
‘I’m also a police officer,’ Annie said. ‘So unless there’s a medical reason for me not to enter the room, I’m sure it’ll be fine.’
The nurse looked at Reynolds, who nodded his confirmation. ‘No, there’s no medical reason. I’ll take you in.’
Annie turned to Reynolds. ‘Thanks for your help. Appreciated.’
‘No worries. All the best for her.’
* * *
The small room felt overheated and claustrophobic, cluttered with equipment. Sheena was lying on her back, apparently asleep, her face untypically ashen. There was a bandage around her temples, but otherwise she appeared unharmed.
‘She was very lucky,’ the nurse said. ‘The bullet just grazed her head. The wound’s very superficial. Not much more than a graze, fortunately.’
Annie took a breath, absorbing the implications of this. ‘Why are you keeping her in?’
‘Just for tests and observation,’ the nurse said. ‘As it’s a head wound. There’s always a risk that the damage is greater than it appears.’
Annie felt another clutch of fear in her stomach. ‘You think that’s possible?’
The nurse shook her head. ‘It’s just a precaution.’
‘When do you think you’ll be able to release her?’
‘That’s up to the consultant. He wants to keep her in overnight, but I think it’s likely she’ll be released tomorrow.’
‘Is it okay if I sit with her for a while?’
‘Yes, of course. We gave her a mild sedative to help her relax, but she may well wake soon.’
Annie lowered herself on to the bedside chair and gazed at her partner. Jesus, Sheena, she thought, that was bloody close. It struck her now how frail Sheena looked. She was one of the toughest, most resilient people Annie had ever met, someone who’d clawed her way up from a challenging background to achieve her current status. But physically, she was a relatively slight woman, her pale skin almost translucent in the glaring hospital lights. She looked dwarfed by the surrounding equipment, her body festooned with cables leading to the various monitors. Annie desperately wanted to reach out and take Sheena in her arms, but knew that, for the moment, it was impossible.
‘You didn’t even bring any fruit.’ Sheena’s eyes were still apparently closed, and for a moment Annie thought she was talking in her sleep.
‘You don’t like fruit.’
‘That’s not the point. It’s what you bring hospital patients. That or chocolates. I don’t see any chocolates.’
‘You’ve got your eyes closed.’
‘If I open them, will I see chocolates?’
‘Not really. Not at all, in fact.’ Annie finally reached out and took Sheena’s hand in hers, taking care not to dislodge the monitors. ‘Christ, Sheena. You nearly got yourself killed.’
Sheena opened her eyes and smiled. ‘I didn’t get myself anything. Some fascist fuckwit nearly killed me.’
‘Fair. But it’s the “nearly killed” bit that concerns me.’
Sheena was silent for a moment. ‘I know. I’m trying not to think about too hard about that. It’s really going to hit me at some point. At the moment I just feel numb. As if it happened to someone else.’
Annie nodded. She’d felt something similar herself on the few occasions she’d faced real danger as a police officer. It was a coping mechanism, she supposed, a way of dealing with emotions that were too painful to process.
‘By the way,’ Sheena added, ‘that’s really quite painful.’
Annie looked down and realised that, without knowing it, she’d been gripping Sheena’s hand too tightly, as if still afraid she would be snatched away. She gave Sheena’s hand a more gentle squeeze. ‘Can you remember anything about what happened?’
‘It’s pretty clear up to the point I heard the gunshot,’ Sheena said ‘But then all I remember is that, as the protestors were starting to disperse, there was what sounded like an explosion. Then – well, this.’ She gestured towards her head.
‘You don’t think it was the ringleader guy who shot you?’
‘I’m pretty sure not. He was all bluster. He was walking away and he didn’t do anything unexpected. It must have been someone else. Someone in the crowd.’
‘We’ll get him, Sheena.’
‘You reckon? It was all a bit of a melee.’
‘There’ll be CCTV, and there’ll probably be witnesses prepared to come forward. Either people who weren’t directly involved or some of those who were. I’m guessing that some of them might shop one of their mates if we put a bit of pressure on them.’
‘If you can identify them.’
‘Some will be the usual suspects. We’ll get them.’
‘I’m not sure I care just at the moment. At least I’m still alive.’
‘I care about some brain-dead arsehole walking about with a loaded firearm, even if he was too dumb to actually hit you.’
‘Expressed with your characteristic sensitivity. And you’re obviously right. The whole thing’s terrifying. If I’d been giving my usual patronising nod to a constituent, he’d have got me squarely in the brain.’ She closed her eyes again. ‘I’m really not sure I want to think about it.’
‘Neither do I,’ Annie said. ‘How are you feeling, anyway?’
‘Oh, fine now. Weirdly exhausted, which I’m guessing is an after-effect of the shock plus the sedatives, and a bit of a sore head, but otherwise okay.’
‘They’re just keeping you in for tests and observations. Nurse reckoned you should be out tomorrow.’
‘I had a chat with the consultant when he appeared on his rounds. Seemed pretty switched on, even though he was a Tory.’
‘He told you that, did he? The Tory bit, I mean.’
‘He did, actually. One of those “I don’t share your politics and wouldn’t vote for you in a million years, but I do respect your integrity and achievements” conversations. I get those a lot.’
‘Mainly from my mother.’
‘I don’t recall the integrity and achievement bit coming up much from your mother. More the “dyke who stole my daughter”, if I recall.’
‘She’s warmed to you,’ Annie said. ‘More than she’s ever warmed to me, anyway.’
‘If you say so.’
‘So what happens to you now? In terms of work, I mean.’
‘Nothing. I go back to it, as soon as I’m able. Which looks like it should be tomorrow.’
‘I didn’t mean that. I meant in terms of security, protection. Stopping you getting shot in the head again. That kind of thing.’
‘The short answer is I don’t know yet. There’s a lot been done to try to protect MPs over the last year or two, but in the end you’ve still got to do the job. I’ll speak to the Party and to the Speaker’s Office and see if there’s more we can do. Locally, we can look at security in the office, but that’s fairly tight already and it doesn’t stop anyone taking potshots at me in the street. I maybe need to think a bit about how I put myself out there. I don’t want to overreact to what’s probably just some one-off fuckwit, but I maybe need to be a bit more aware of the security implications of what I’m doing. It’s not something I’ve ever really considered before. Not seriously, anyway. You just don’t think it’ll happen to you.’
‘We may have people who can give you some advice on local stuff. I’m not keen to see you in the firing line again.’
‘Me neither, oddly enough.’
‘We’re living in scary times,’ Annie said. ‘Who were this bunch of protestors, anyway?’
‘As far as I know, a ragbag of random numpties who’d jumped onto the extreme-right bandwagon. Just your average racis
ts and fascists, I’m guessing. They claimed to be supporters of this Bulldog character, but he doesn’t represent any organised party these days. He’s fallen out with most of the other nationalist groups because he thought they were a bit too establishment.’
‘Sounds a nice guy.’
‘A real charmer. He’s mainly just a grifter, to be honest. Primarily interested in boosting his own profile and bank account.’
‘Aren’t they all?’ Annie said. ‘Even my mother. Though she’s more interested in power and influence these days. It’s people like her who enable and encourage these people.’
‘It worries me. Those guys today – and it was mostly guys, though it isn’t always – are just being taken for a ride. It’s playing with fire.’
‘You escaped this time.’
‘Yes, thank Christ. But it’s getting worse, and we’re not taking it seriously enough.’ She stopped. ‘I’ll shut up, though. I don’t feel terribly rational about it at the moment, and that’s never a good time for a politician to start pontificating.’
‘That’s why you’ll never get to be Prime Minister. Most MPs love pontificating irrationally.’
‘Tell me about it. You don’t know how much bollocks I’ve had to listen to in the House.’ She closed her eyes. ‘Actually, it’s quite nice to be out of the firing line for the evening.’
‘Maybe not the most apposite metaphor.’
‘Probably not. But you know what I mean. I can’t remember the last time I was able just to do nothing with a clear conscience.’
That was true enough, Annie thought. When Parliament was sitting, Sheena spent the bulk of the week in the flat she rented in London. The weekends were mostly spent doing constituency business – meetings, surgeries, correspondence – before she headed back south on Sunday evenings. It was a much more demanding life than many people realised.
‘Is there anything I can get for you? Apart from fruit and chocolates, I mean.’
Sheena hadn’t reopened her eyes and Annie suspected she was on the point of falling asleep again. ‘Fruit and chocolates are fine,’ Sheena finally responded. ‘And maybe something to read. Something really undemanding.’
Small Mercies Page 4