Firewatching
Page 33
“Why did you really want me on this case? Why did you keep me on it even after you found out about me and Oscar?”
Doggett shuffles his feet and looks away. It’s the first time Tyler’s seen the man look uncomfortable about anything. “We don’t need to go into all that now. Take a few weeks off and let Jordan sort everything out. When you get back we’ll talk.”
Tyler’s eyes drift once again to Sally-Ann’s body. “I’m not coming back,” he says.
Doggett follows his gaze. “That wasn’t your fault, you know. You couldn’t have saved her. You’re a good cop, DS Tyler, but even you can’t save everyone.”
He wants to believe that, but he knows somehow he let her down. All she needed was one friend. One friend who could have seen how much she was suffering. If only he’d worked it out sooner . . .
“I’m not coming back,” he says again.
Doggett puts a hand on his shoulder. “I wanted you on this because I knew your dad. I knew him very well, and I knew his son would turn out to be just as good a cop as he was. You’ll be back, all right. Your dad never let anyone down, and you’re not about to either. It’s in your genes.”
Tyler shakes his head. “Actually, I think my father let me down in quite a big way.”
Doggett snorts but doesn’t argue. Then he says, “Take a few weeks, then come find me. There are things we need to talk about.”
“What things?” When he gets no reply, Tyler looks up to see Doggett walking away across the driveway.
“What things?” he shouts after him, but the DI simply waves a hand behind him.
The rain grows heavier and pelts down on the final remains of the Old Vicarage, dampening the last of the flames.
Tyler sits on the incident-room step and watches.
Acknowledgments
First, a big thank-you to the staff and students of Sheffield Hallam University’s graduate writing program. Many people helped get this project under way, but particular thanks to Daniel Blythe, for encouragement when I was at a low ebb; to Mike Harris, for teaching me how stories should work; and to Lesley Glaister, for encouraging me to find a story in the first place (and teaching me the expression “lying fallow”). A big thank-you, too, to the Dark Horseys—Kate Hainsworth, Len Horsey, and Helen Meller. Long may they ride!
Thanks to various coffee shops, pubs, and libraries, and to John Hunter for accompanying me to them. Special thanks to the Red Deer for giving both Adam and me a place to relax after work, and for putting up with me celebrating and drowning my sorrows (I’m not sure which is worse). Extra-special thanks to the booksellers and patrons of Waterstones Sheffield Orchard Square, Meadowhall, Derby, Doncaster, and Chesterfield. You’ve had to spend fifteen years listening to me talk about my book more than anybody else’s.
Thank you to the wonderful writers I’ve met on this journey for all you have taught me, but especially to the Hallam Writers for their critiques of early drafts. Also a big thank-you to Bernardine Evaristo, Jacob Ross, and my fellow attendees of an Arvon course entitled “Making Your Writing Sing.” I’m not sure if I achieved that goal but you made me believe that one day I might. And to all the students I’ve taught over the past few years: my big secret is . . . you’ve all taught me stuff too!
The more recent drafts of this work would just not have happened without the unparalleled support, constant reassurance, gentle nagging, and endless supplying of wine that came from my good friends Susan Elliot Wright and Marion Dillon.
A big thank-you to Anna Jarowicki and to Kevin Robinson for ideas and thoughts surrounding police investigation. Check out Kev’s indispensable resource: www.crimewritingsolutions.wordpress.com. All the bits I got right came from them; all the mistakes are mine alone.
I’ve had three editors work on this book: Anne Perry, Sara Minnich, and Jo Dickinson. I am beyond lucky fate conspired to arrange this for me; I couldn’t have asked for more helpful insight. And thank you, too, to the fabulous teams at Simon & Schuster in the UK, and G. P. Putnam’s Sons in the US.
The biggest thanks of all must go to my agent, the practically perfect Sarah Hornsley. It’s no exaggeration to say this book would not be in your hands right now without her unfailing hard work and erudite advice. Thank you for changing my life.
Finally, thank you to all my friends and family for their unending support but especially to Ed, for telling me to stop talking about it and do it; and to Auntie Norah and Auntie Mart for the inspiration.
To anyone who is a writer out there—keep going, don’t give up. Sometimes dreams really do come true.
About the Author
Russ Thomas grew up in the 80s reading anything he could get his hands on, writing stories, watching television and playing videogames: in short, anything that avoided the Great Outdoors. He spent five years trying to master the Electronic Organ and another five learning Spanish. It didn't take him too long to realize he'd be better off sticking to the writing.
After a few 'proper' jobs (among them: pot-washer. optician's receptionist, supermarket warehouse operative, call-center telephonist and storage salesman) he discovered the joys of bookselling, where he could talk to people about books all day. Now a full-time writer, he also teaches creative writing classes and mentors new authors. Firewatching is his first novel.
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