The Drowners

by Jennie Finch

  Somehow he made the word ‘initiative’ sound as bad as ‘hooliganism’. Dave considered responding but chose the wiser, silent course.

  ‘Let me see.’ The Inspector rifled through some papers on his desk. ‘’Um, a-ha, right. So.’ He looked up again. ‘Quite a good result under the circumstances. Looks like we’ve cleared up three murders on the Levels, broken up a major drug-smuggling operation and finally nailed that bastard Derek Johns.’

  He seemed to be waiting for something, so Dave swallowed nervously before managing, ‘Yes Sir.’

  ‘Yes,’ continued the Inspector, ‘not a bad night’s work. It will look very good in this month’s crime figures. However …’ And here he paused theatrically. ‘However, there is the small matter of your actions. Rather than contacting the station you set out on your own, accompanied by a civilian, and engaged a number of dangerous criminals without authority or back-up. You placed yourself and several civilians at risk in the process. You also used an unauthorized police band radio which I understand is fitted to your personal vehicle, endangering our wireless security.’

  Dave thought he was stretching a bit here. Any kid with a short-wave could pick up the police radio and a lot of them probably did. A swift glance at his Inspector’s face, however, convinced him that it was better to maintain a discreet silence.

  ‘In addition, we have several complaints,’ the Inspector went on. ‘Criminal damage to a motor vehicle, assault and wrongful arrest. Would you care to comment, Constable?’

  ‘I cuffed two suspects to the car to prevent them fleeing the scene, Sir. Any damage was done by them. The wrongful arrest – well, I have witnesses to the suspect’s threats towards Miss Hastings. And he has been identified as the supplier of the amphetamines we’ve been finding around town. I can’t comment on the assault as I wasn’t there when it occurred but I have good reason to believe it was an act of self-defence.’

  There was a long silence broken by the sounds of the office next door seeping through the walls. Finally, the Inspector spoke.

  ‘Bloody impressive piece of “self-defence” on her part – off the record mind. Wish some of the lads could handle themselves that well. Well, you will be relieved to hear we will be charging him with drug dealing as well as anything else we can make stick. That leaves me with the problem of what to do with you, Constable.’

  This is it, thought Dave. All my hard work, down the drain. A solid lump of misery formed in his chest. What a week this had been. He’d lost Lauren, who was refusing to answer his increasingly frantic calls, and now he was about to lose his job. He realized the Inspector was still talking, delivering his fate in measured tones, and he turned his attention back to his superior officer.

  ‘In light of recent events and your persistent tendency to act in what could be viewed by some as a reckless manner, I do not think you are suited to life in uniform. I am therefore recommending you to the detective branch, on three months’ initial appraisal. I understand they take a slightly different view of initiative and independent action over there.’

  Dave froze on the spot, not believing what he had just heard. Then he took a long, deep breath and tried to keep his voice steady as he said, ‘Thank you Sir.’

  ‘Dismissed,’ said the Inspector, hiding a smile as the young constable left the office. Outside, Dave felt a great, silly grin creeping over his face. He’d made it! He was going to try out for detective. Then his smile faded as his next thought was – if only he could share this moment with Lauren.

  Things began to settle down at the probation office and slowly life returned to normal – or at least as ‘normal’ as it ever was. Relieved to be free of Garry’s ever-critical presence, Alex flung herself into her work with enthusiasm. Under Gordon’s approving supervision she set out plans for several new groups including one on alcohol education.

  ‘That seems to be the underlying problem for an awful lot our clients, especially the younger lads,’ she said earnestly. ‘They get really drunk and go off and do stupid things. Stuff they probably wouldn’t have dreamed of doing when sober.’

  Gordon sat in her tiny office, the light from the desk lamp glinting off his glasses, nodding and making notes.

  ‘Is that your opinion as a probation officer or a psychologist,’ he said finally.

  Alex looked up at him, heart sinking. ‘Look, I’m not a psychologist,’ she said wearily. ‘I did psychology at university – and philosophy before you ask. I couldn’t choose between them and actually they went together rather well. Just, don’t tell everyone will you? People get really stupid when they hear the word. Someone asked me once if I could read their mind. As if I’d want to!’

  Gordon smiled at her reassuringly.

  ‘I think it is a useful asset actually and I’d like to be able to use your knowledge for the good of the team but I can understand your reluctance under the circumstances. Still, perhaps our new senior will be – shall we say a little more open to new ideas.’

  ‘They’ve appointed a new senior?’ Alex said, startled by this news.

  Gordon rose and gathered up his notes.

  ‘Starting at the beginning of May,’ he said. ‘A woman, apparently. Ricky knows her, I think – you could ask him. He speaks quite highly of her.’

  With that bombshell he was gone, leaving Alex to wonder whether there might be something – or someone – out there worse than Garry.

  There was a timid scratching at her door and the tousled head of Simon Adams peered round. Alex’s smile was genuine as she beckoned him inside.

  ‘Thank you for coming in,’ she said. ‘And a very big thank you for everything you did last week. You were tremendous and I don’t know what I would have done without you.’ She resisted the temptation to add that she wouldn’t have been out on the Levels at night if it hadn’t been for him in the first place. This was a rare opportunity to bolster Simon’s confidence and she had a couple of ideas on how to help him escape his hopeless and pointless existence.

  ‘I’ve been talking to some people over in Frome,’ she said. ‘They were really impressed by how well you run.’

  Simon wriggled with embarrassment, hands clutched together and head down.

  ‘Seriously Simon, you are good. You could win races, long hard races. You have a genuine talent for this and they would like to help you.’

  Simon squinted at her through his floppy hair.

  ‘Why do anyone want to help? Don’t even know I, do they?’

  ‘They know about you,’ said Alex. ‘They want to offer you a place at the local college. Now, don’t panic.’ Simon was twitching and starting to hyperventilate. ‘Listen to what I’m saying and then we can talk about it. No-one is going to make you do anything you don’t want to, all right?’

  Simon nodded, dropping his head on to his chest once more.

  Slowly and clearly, Alex explained about the college, the running tracks and the gym and the accommodation they were offering him. Gradually, Simon lifted his head, his eyes growing wider and wider as she spoke.

  ‘Would be a room just for me?’ he asked finally.

  Alex nodded. ‘All your meals cooked for you and a place of your own to live in,’ she said. ‘There’ll be other lads there but you will be the best runner in the whole college, I promise. No-one will pick on you and there are special teachers to help you get even better. You will need to do some classes as well but they will help you with them too.’

  Simon waved a dismissive hand at this.

  ‘Don’t worry I none about that,’ he said. ‘Can read and stuff, not like Kevin Mallory or some others.’

  Alex hid her surprise at this, annoyed with herself at assuming Simon might be illiterate. She studied him discreetly as he considered the proposal. Not simple, she thought, more obsessed. He had a distinct lack of social skills and very little awareness of other people, but a lot of this could be put down to his dreadful family situation and the almost total neglect that had marred his childhood.

  ‘Really
get a room all to myself?’ said Simon.

  Alex nodded.

  A slow grin spread across Simon’s face. ‘Reckon I could manage that,’ he said happily.

  Lauren was utterly wretched. It was harder and harder to resist answering Dave’s calls but she was determined not to cave in. The way he had rushed off even though he wasn’t on duty had really upset her and she clung to her anger despite her misery. All that week she had struggled to focus on her job and several times Pauline had taken her into the little side office to discuss her work. Still on trial as the primary support for first-year officers, Lauren was slipping. Her work was not helped by the fact she still felt a deep dislike of Ricky. The news that the new senior was a friend of his did nothing to improve her mood.

  ‘Reckon I might look for something else later in the year,’ she confided to Sue on Friday lunchtime. ‘Don’t fancy another Garry in charge. Maybe worse than Garry if he rates them.’ She nodded in Ricky’s direction.

  Sue was only partly listening, her attention focussed on the tea room door.

  ‘’Um, well we must wait to see,’ she said, giving a bright and utterly unconvincing smile. Lauren threw her sandwich papers in the bin in disgust, sliding off her chair and stamping across to the exit.

  ‘Forget it,’ she called over her shoulder, nearly bumping into Alex on the way out.

  ‘Lauren, come with me,’ said Alex, reaching out to steer her by the shoulder. ‘There’s something I want to show you.’

  Lauren shook her off angrily and continued down the stairs.

  ‘Lauren!’ Alex ran after her, catching up by the door into the reception area. ‘Please, just a minute. It’s important.’

  Lauren glared at her but allowed herself to be ushered out of the main door out onto the steps. Blinking in the bright sunlight, she looked down to see Dave in the courtyard with a bicycle. Not an ordinary bicycle. Hopping down the stairs she walked over and stared at the strange looking machine.

  ‘It’s a tandem,’ said Dave, a big smile on his face.

  ‘Oh yeah?’ Lauren walked slowly around Dave and his machine. ‘So what?’

  Dave swallowed nervously.

  ‘Well, Sue and Alex told me you always wanted to ride a bike so …’

  ‘What makes you think I would get on that great thing to be ridden around by you then?’ Lauren rounded on him furiously. ‘Can’t even get up on that saddle, let alone pedal. Girt fool.’

  She turned her back on him and headed for the steps.

  ‘This one’s specially built for you,’ said Dave.

  Lauren stopped and turned slowly to look at him, squinting in the glare. Dave bent over the bike to demonstrate.

  ‘There’s a proper stand to hold it steady, and here,’ he tugged at the side of the bike, ‘there’s a folding step. You put your foot here and grab this support.’ He demonstrated, pointing to a metal handle fixed to the rear handlebar. ‘And the pedals are reset so you can reach them.’

  Lauren walked back over and stared at the bike for a moment, a slow smile spreading across her face.

  ‘You’s making a big assumption though,’ she said.

  Dave rested the bike on its stand and held his arms out imploringly.

  ‘Lauren, please. I’m so sorry about the last few months. I’ve hardly slept since I last saw you and even making detective doesn’t seem to matter …’

  ‘You made detective?’ Lauren asked.

  Dave nodded. ‘Last week,’ he said. ‘But it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Oh, I think it does,’ said Lauren. ‘Anyway, was not that I was thinking of. Why’s you assuming I won’t want to ride on the front?’

  Dave flung his head back and laughed, relief and delight combined in his happy face.

  Alex was joined by Sue and the rest of the office on the steps and together they watched as Dave and Lauren took their first wobbly ride around the car park, the joy on Lauren’s face plain for all to see.

  ‘Now he has to teach Brian to ride a bike,’ said Alex, after they had waved the pair off onto the road and made their way back inside. ‘I promised I’d help him get Lauren back – but that was the price.’

  Sue shook her head in admiration. ‘You are a bad woman,’ she observed.

  On the train to Dartmoor, Iris sat by herself, staring out of the window. Early the day before she had taken a call from the hospital telling her Derek had finally succumbed to multiple infections. She had sat, numb, for a long time. It was difficult to mourn a man who had threatened her and destroyed her family. It was even harder to mourn him a second time, for she had been convinced he was dead back in November. But, despite all the events of the past months, she still felt the need to cry. Derek had been a fine man once and even with all his criminal ways and violent past he had loved her, looked after her and in his own way treated her well. Biff, her younger son, was gone and now it was just her and Newt.

  She watched the scenery flicker past the window and considered the forthcoming visit. Newt was expecting her but she had asked the prison authorities not to tell him her news. There was so much she needed to say and she had been silent for too long. A sense of desperate sadness swept over her as she thought of her eldest son, waiting for her arrival and probably wondering why she was coming. However she tried to say it, Newt was losing two fathers today.

  Copyright

  First published in 2013

  by Impress Books, Innovation Centre, Rennes Drive, Exeter, EX4 4RN

  This ebook edition first published in 2013

  All rights reserved

  © Jennie Finch, 2013

  The right of Jennie Finch to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly

  ISBN 978–1–907605–39–0