Turned

by Clare Revell

  He glanced up. “It does happen occasionally.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Do you have something against police officers?”

  “No.” She spoke far too quickly for his liking.

  “It’s just you seemed spooked when you found out earlier.”

  She studied her mug for a long time before answering. “It’s nothing,” she finally said quietly. “I just didn’t realize you were a cop. You hadn’t said what you did for a job.”

  “It hadn’t come up. Are you sure it’s not a problem?”

  Again, she paused, not looking at him. “No, it’s not a problem.”

  “OK.”

  He glanced at her then down at his cup. For a moment, he wondered if Nate was wrong and now was not the time to ask her. Because he didn’t believe her when she said she didn’t have a problem with cops. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was scared of them and there had to be a reason for that. But at the same time, she was still here. Alone, with him. That must mean something. Didn’t it? Oh, what did he have to lose?

  “Amy?”

  She looked up. “For the record, I know not all cops are the same. You and Nate have changed my mind about that.”

  He smiled. “Good.”

  “Sorry. I interrupted you. What were you going to say?”

  “I was wondering if you’d have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

  “We have dinner every night.”

  “I know, but I mean dinner. Just you and me, a restaurant somewhere, and no kids. Nate has offered to babysit.”

  She held his gaze, a delightful blush slowly spreading from her cheeks up to her hairline. For a moment indecision flickered in her eyes, then she smiled. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

  9

  Dane pushed Amy’s chair in and then sat opposite her. “This seems intensely wicked,” he said. “The girls will never forgive us.”

  Amy grinned. “Then we don’t tell them. I mean it’s a pizza place not a burger joint, so it’s not a huge sin, just a tiny one.”

  Dane patted his stomach. “Tell my waistline that in the morning. I won’t be able to jump over any more fences. Or chase bad guys.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, well now, we can’t have that.”

  “Nate can do it. He gets plenty of practice running around after Vianne and Ben.”

  Amy picked up the menu. “And you don’t, running after the girls.”

  He winked. “That’s what I pay you for.”

  “True.” She glanced up at the waiter. “I think I’ll have the meat feast. And a glass of lemonade with lots of ice and lemon, please.”

  Dane chuckled. “You don’t strike me as the meat feast type. I’ll have the barbeque chicken with peppers and extra chili, with a glass of lemonade, no ice. Can we have a side of onion rings and potato wedges, please?”

  The waiter took the menus and headed back to the kitchen.

  Amy looked down at her hands, twisting the necklace around her fingers.

  Dane looked at her. “Penny for them.”

  “Just thinking. Dad liked chili. The hotter and spicier the food was, the better. I’d have to send out bottles of the sauces when he was Det.”

  Dane tilted his head. “Det?”

  “Detached, umm, a short overseas tour. Dad was in the RAF for years.”

  “Ah. What my US friend would call TDY.”

  She frowned. “Maybe. Anyway, he’d be gone for months at a time. But for a while Mum was around and it was hard, but bearable.”

  “What happened to your mum?” he asked as the drinks arrived.

  Amy picked up her glass, her hands trembling. “I was ten when she died. That’s why…”

  “Why you took the job, and are so good with the girls,” he said. “Because you know exactly how they feel.”

  Amy nodded. She blinked hard. “After Mum died, I stayed on base with Dad, went wherever he was posted. Depending on where it was, of course. When he got posted to a war zone, I had to stay behind.”

  “Was that often?”

  “Too often. They married young. Mum was only thirty-one when she died. Dad was forty-two. He was killed by an IED while I was at university.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  The pizza arrived, and they concentrated on serving themselves for a moment. Amy pulled a piece of pepperoni off the top of her slice. “It was really hard. If it hadn’t been for Rosalie and Ray, I don’t know what I would have done.”

  “Are they friends of yours?”

  “Best friends. Rosalie and I met on our first day at St. Andrews, studied the same course, flat shared and did everything together. Ray Malone was the assistant pastor at the church we went to while we were at university. He ended up marrying Rosalie just after our final exams finished, and when he got his first pastorate, as I had no ties, I went with them. They moved into the manse and I rented a small place not far from them. They just had their first baby—Sara. This is the first time in years we’ve been separated.”

  “Sounds like you miss them.”

  “Yeah, I do. Rosalie is more like a sister than a friend. She always knew how I felt simply by the way I said hello. She makes a fantastic pastor’s wife. Ray is the most amazing preacher and I’m not just saying that. He has a real gift for exposition and Bible-based teaching. Very much like your Pastor Jack, actually. And the baby is so cute. And so tiny. She’ll be six weeks old now, or thereabouts.”

  Grief emanated from her, as she picked at her food. He wished he hadn’t asked, but she spoke of them with such love. What had happened to make her leave?

  Dane picked up another slice from his plate. “I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. We just spent so much time together, told each other everything. We didn’t have any secrets from each other. It was the kind of friendship many people can only dream about. After Dad died, she was all I had. Losing her is like losing part of me. I’m alone now.”

  Had her friend died? She hadn’t said as much, but reading between the lines, if she missed her that much and she wasn’t dead, why not simply pick up the phone. Had they parted on bad terms?

  Dane watched her. “You should call them.”

  “I don’t think so.” She pulled at the pizza. “Sometimes stuff happens that you can’t control, turning everything on its head, and once it does, you find you can’t go back no matter how much you want to.”

  “But if you’ve been such good friends for years, then surely nothing is too great to overcome. And I’m sure a pastor and his wife would be more forgiving than most.”

  She shrugged. “Not this time.”

  He took a bite of his pizza. He’d have to look up Pastor Ray Malone online, and contact him. Maybe he could help Amy the way she was helping him, by giving her back the only family she had.

  Amy took a deep breath. “Have you gone to Headley Baptist long?”

  He swallowed and picked up an onion ring. “Yes, I’ve been going there for a long time, actually for more years than I’m going to admit. I got married there, the kids were dedicated there.”

  She swirled the liquid in her glass. “It must be nice, to be so settled and to actually belong somewhere. I never really had anywhere to lay my hat and call home.”

  “Oh?”

  “Military brat, remember. I was never in the same place for more than three years.”

  “It must’ve been hard.”

  “Yeah…” She looked down at her glass, her eyes clouded. “I thought I’d finally found it with Rosalie and Ray,” she whispered. “But it wasn’t to be.”

  Dane cleared his throat. “Anyway, the two weeks are up and I was wondering…”

  She glanced at Dane, worry mixing with the fear and grief on her face. Her fingers white against the clear fizzy liquid in her glass. “Yeah?”

  “The girls love having you around. You do a great job with them. You got Vicky to communicate.”

  “Well, not exactly.”

  “Amy, don’t underestimate what you did. Tha
nks to you, she’s communicating with more than just a nod or a shake for the first time since her mum died. Signing is a huge step forward. I can’t thank you enough for that. So, if you want to stay on, if you can put up with Jodie’s tantrums, we’d like it. I’d like it.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Thank you. So would I. I’ll belong…” She broke off.

  “Go on.” He reached across, laying a hand over hers, trying to ignore the warmth and slight jolt that shot up his arm straight to his heart and then curled around his stomach.

  “Belong somewhere, even if only for a little while.”

  He squeezed her hand. “For as long as you want,” he told her. “I think you need us as much as we need you. God placed you here for a reason, Amy. Not just to help Vicky.”

  She looked at him. “I don’t know about that.”

  “He’ll show us in His own good time,” Dane assured her. “Now, are you going to help me with these onion rings? Because I really don’t want to have to take a doggy bag home, no matter how much the girls would like cold pizza and onion rings for breakfast.”

  She reached out and took one. “So what about you? How long have you been a cop?”

  “Ever since I left school. It was all I ever wanted to be. I went to Police College and trained and qualified. Worked my way up through uniform, then transferred to CID. Did general stuff for a couple of years, then transferred to the department I’m in now. I made sergeant about ten years ago and have been partnered with Nate for almost as long. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

  “Isn’t it dangerous?”

  He studied her. That must be the problem—his job was dangerous, but he didn’t think of it like that. To him it was simply what he did. “Climbing fences and chasing bad guys?”

  She nodded. “I mean, you hear of officers getting shot and killed. Or stabbed. Doesn’t it worry you that you might go to work one day and not come home?”

  He bit into an onion ring, chewing slowly. “A little.” He waved the ring as he spoke. “But I could get hit by a car walking down the street tomorrow.”

  Amy visibly shuddered and closed her eyes for a moment. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  He frowned. “But, there’s no point worrying about something I can’t control. I just have to love my girls and do my job to the best of my ability. So, how about we change the subject and talk about something light-hearted and silly for a bit.”

  She looked at him. “Like what?”

  “How about the time the girls got ahold of my shaving foam and decided to see how far it would go?” He grinned. “It went from the bathroom, across the landing, down the stairs…”

  

  Amy stood with her hands on her hips in the bedroom doorway. Jodie lay curled up in bed, under the duvet. “You’re going to be late, Jodie.”

  “Don’t care.”

  Amy pulled the duvet down. “Get up.”

  Jodie shook her head. “No. Leave me alone.” She yanked the duvet back up and vanished beneath it.

  Amy sighed. “I will not leave you alone until you talk to me.”

  “Don’t want to go to school.”

  “You have to go. It’s the law.”

  “Well, that law stinks.” Jodie’s voice was muffled under the covers.

  “Fine. You don’t go to school. They arrest your dad and he goes to prison.”

  “That won’t happen.” Jodie stiffened under the duvet. “You’re lying.”

  “No, I’m not. Now, do I have to ring your dad and get him to come back here? Which would get him into trouble with his boss as well?”

  “No.” She pushed down the duvet and shook her head vehemently. “You can’t tell him. He’ll freak if he finds out, and I’ll be grounded for like the next six months at least.”

  “Then tell me why you don’t want to go in. Maybe I can help, like I did with Vicky. Are you in trouble? Is someone picking on you, too?”

  She nodded slightly. “I’m in trouble, yeah, but no one’s picking on me.”

  Amy sat on the bed beside her. “So tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it, if I can.”

  “It’s a long story, but if I go in, I need you to come in after school tonight to see one of my teachers.”

  “Why?”

  “To get my phone back. He confiscated it.”

  Amy studied her. That explained why Jodie hadn’t gone out to youth club the previous evening like she normally did—one of Dane’s unbreakable rules was if Jodie went out after dark, she took her phone with her. “Who confiscated it?”

  “My English teacher—Mr. Page. I was texting during a lesson. I had detention at break yesterday and have it again today at lunchtime. I have a letter you need to sign to say you know about it. He’ll only give the phone back to a parent or caregiver. Dad said he put you in charge when he’s not here and right now he’s at work, so you’re it.”

  “I can do that. What time do I have to be there?”

  “Mr. Page said after school tonight.”

  “Then I’ll meet you at the gate once I’ve picked up Vicky, but only if you get up now. Being late isn’t going to make things any better. In fact I can guarantee you’ll probably get more detentions out of it.”

  “OK.”

  Amy smiled in relief as Jodie sat up. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “You haven’t met Mr. Page.”

  

  That afternoon, Jodie led her through the hallway to the English department and knocked on the open office door. “Mr. Page?”

  A tall, dark haired, bearded man looked up. “Come in, Jodie.”

  Amy looked at Vicky. “Sit here for a minute, sweetie.”

  Vicky nodded, sitting down on the chair in the hallway and swinging her legs.

  Amy followed Jodie into the office.

  “I’ve come to get my phone back.” Jodie’s tone was sullen, and she shoved her hands into her pockets.

  Mr. Page studied her. “I’ve come to get my phone back…what?”

  Jodie huffed. “I’ve come to get my phone back…please.” She paused. “Sir.”

  “I can only give it back to a parent, you know that.”

  “Dad’s always working. This is Amy, our nanny.”

  Amy held out a hand. “Amy Stabler. Mr. Philips put me in charge of the girls while he’s working. I hope I’ll do in place of him.”

  “Liam Page, Jodie’s English teacher and head of department.” His grip was firm and his hands warm.

  “It’s nice to meet you. Although you look kind of familiar.”

  Jodie sighed. “Mr. Page goes to our church. He sits in the pew behind us with his wife. You’d have seen him on Sundays. Now can I please have my phone back?”

  Mr. Page frowned at her. “What are the rules governing phones in school?”

  She shuffled her feet. “No using them in class. They should be switched off at all times. In case of a parental emergency, they can get hold of us via the school office. Likewise the school office can contact our parents if we get injured or something else happens.”

  “So why did you have your phone out in my class?”

  Jodie shrugged.

  Mr. Page narrowed his eyes. “I won’t ask you again, Jodie.”

  Amy nudged her. “Answer him.”

  “I was sending Fran a text.”

  “Fran sits next to you, doesn’t she?”

  “Yes, she does, but we’re not allowed to talk or pass notes in class, and I had to tell her something really important. So I sent her a text instead.”

  “Texting isn’t allowed any more than talking or passing notes. If it was that important, then you address your comment to the entire class by putting your hand up and asking permission to speak.”

  “It wasn’t something the whole class needed to know.”

  “And it couldn’t have waited until the end of the lesson?”

  “No, sir, it couldn’t have.”

  Mr. Page looked at her. “Then you not only got yourself in trouble, but Fran
as well. I will be sending a letter to her mother tomorrow morning.”

  “But how did you know I was using the phone? It was on silent and you were writing on the board.”

  “I wasn’t born yesterday,” he told her. “And the glass bookcase next to the board means I effectively do have eyes in the back of my head.”

  “Oh.”

  Mr. Page unlocked the desk drawer, opened it, and pulled out the phone. “I don’t want to see your phone again. If I do, it will be confiscated for a week, not just for twenty-four hours. You’ll also get a week of detention and your club privileges revoked for the rest of term. And I will be giving the phone back to your father rather than your nanny, is that understood?”

  Jodie snatched the phone, putting it into her pocket. “’K.”

  Amy glared at her. “Answer Mr. Page properly.”

  “Yes, sir. I understand perfectly,” Jodie muttered.

  Amy frowned and hardened her voice. “Answer him properly without the attitude, young lady. Otherwise a week of detention, no clubs, and a confiscated phone will be the least of your worries.”

  Jodie looked at her, panic flickering in her eyes. “You can’t tell Dad. He’ll blow his top if he finds out.”

  “I won’t need to tell him. You know you’re not allowed to leave the house after dark without your phone. You want to explain to your dad why you’re staying in every night for a whole week when you’re not grounded?”

  “No,” she whispered. She slowly looked back at her teacher. “I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

  Mr. Page nodded. “Good. Thank you. Jodie, can you wait outside a moment, while I speak to Miss Stabler, please?”

  “’K.” She headed outside and shut the door.

  “Please, have a seat.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Page.”

  “It’s Liam. I’ve been meaning to say hello the past couple of Sundays. It’s nice to finally get the chance.”

  “I’m just sorry it’s like this. Jodie isn’t the happiest of children at the best of times.”

  Liam nodded. “I’m worried about her, to be honest. Her work has really suffered the past three or four months and her grades are well down on what they were. She was a grade A student, even after her mother died, but now…” He pulled out a file and handed Amy a sheet of paper. “She’s struggling to make a D. She hasn’t handed in any homework for weeks, either. This is her last piece of creative writing. After I read it, I was going to ask Dane to come in, but as you’re here, maybe you could shed some light on it instead. What she’s put is disturbing to put it mildly. Not to mention worrying. For someone her age to be so distraught that she thinks the only way out is dying, isn’t something you come across every day. I honestly think there is more to it than a simple class writing task.”