‘Jen take me to the Isle of Wight’ he texted. ‘I need to get away x’
An hour later their trip was booked. A couple of days off were what he needed. Time to clear his head.
In the tranquillity of the island hotel, Jen told a snoring Jack, ‘Things could be worse; a lot, lot worse, love. You did everything you could.’ She stroked his brow, watching him sleep. Sitting on the edge of the bed she took a deep breath and looked out to sea.
Listen to the wind
The sound of the sea on the shore
Listen to your heart
And never ask for more
She read the words from an old framed cross-stitch on the wall. ’It’s now or never,’ she whispered to Max. He cocked his head as if pressing her on.
‘Jack?’
‘Mmm …’ he said, stirring.
‘Hold out your hand and close your eyes I’ve got a present for you.’
He looked up at her with a, just awoken, puzzled, expression on his face. Jen’s heart fluttered incredibly fast in her chest. Her eyes blurred with tears.
‘What is it?’
‘I said close your eyes,’ she giggled. ‘It’s something that’s already yours but you haven’t worked out that I’ve got it yet.’ She smiled.
Jack obediently closed his eyes again, and gave her his hand. Shaking, she turned it over and placed his palm on her tummy and held it there. Jack opened his eyes and stared at her. ’Is this for real,’ she read in his eyes, and she nodded. He began to gently stroke her stomach, as he lifted himself up to hold her face in his hands, so that he could kiss her lips, her cheeks and her eyelids. She put her hand to his cheek and brushed it with her fingers.
‘I never thought...When’s this amazing event gonna happen?’ he finally asked, with tears in his eyes.
‘I don’t know yet,’ she grinned. ‘In about seven months.’
He flopped back on the bed and pulled her with him, holding her tightly in his arms. Neither of them wanted to break their moment in time.
Dylan felt like he was walking on air, on his return to the CID office. His first meeting was with Patrick Finch, seeking confirmation that the paperwork in respect of the murder file for Charlie Sharpe was on schedule, and the three murderers were still on remand.
‘Well, congratulations, that’s your first murder case as a deputy SIO well on its way, Pat. It wasn’t too bad was it? We were lucky to ’ave a good team on it, weren’t we?’ he said enthusiastically.
‘I wanted to have a word with you about . . .’
Dylan frowned. ‘Go on.’
‘I’ve some concerns about unacceptable comments made by some of the detectives during the enquiry, sir,’ said Patrick.
‘What’re you on about?’ Dylan said.
‘Some of the remarks they came out with at times were not at all appropriate. We could have had a major problem if someone took offence and took us to a tribunal.’
‘What?’ Dylan said.
‘Well, like Vicky talking about her breasts and swearing. In fact, I’ve compiled a report with examples for your attention and further action,’ he said, holding a document out for Dylan to take. ‘And I really would be liked to be called Patrick not Pat in the future by everyone because that’s my name.’
Dylan was raging.
‘You’ve done what? I’ll tell you something now Pat, if it wasn’t for the banter and sense of humour in our team, on a murder enquiry, or any enquiry come to that, we’d never cope with the things we ’ave to. None of the comments made in my earshot were offensive, so don’t you go and make something out of nothing. Do you hear?’ Dylan said, snatching the paperwork Patrick offered him and throwing it directly in his bin.
‘I was just trying …’ Patrick Finch quickly tried to explain.
Dylan pushed past him, slamming the office door behind him. The force of the impact seemed to rattle the whole incident room. He strode purposefully to the Reynolds’ incident room.
‘The DNA’s confirmed the body was that of Larry Banks,’ Dylan was told as he reached John’s desk, where his determined stomp came to a sudden halt.
‘And that’s not all.’ John continued, as he handed him an envelope. ’A letter has been handed to me by Mrs Perfect, Larry’s solicitor, specifically for your attention.’
Dylan took it from him and sat down to read the contents.
Dear Jack,
I crossed the line and knowing the kind of person you are, I can’t expect you to understand.
I’m writing this because if I know Malcolm Reynolds, he’ll be intent on revenge and won’t be satisfied until he knows I have taken my last breath. Who can blame him? The drink was my downfall. I don’t need to tell you that but I do want you to know the truth.
Liz was being blackmailed and needed my help. I let her down by taking the money but believe me I honestly never thought the blackmailer would kill her.
I also let you and the team down Jack. Forgive me.
Larry
P.S You work too hard. Don’t let the job ruin your life. You should Work to live, not live to work.
Larry’s words went round and round in his head and with tears in his eyes. He pushed his chair back and stood up.
‘Put it on file after you’ve shared the contents with Hendon CID, will you,’ he told John, offering him the letter.
John nodded, but didn’t speak.
With determination in each step, Dylan walked down to his own office, picked up his suit jacket from the back of his chair, locked his desk drawer, stood his briefcase by his filing cabinet and walked out of his door, shutting it behind him.
‘Would you like a coffee, sir?’ Tracy asked stretching as she yawned loudly.
‘No thanks, I’m heading off; I’ve a mission to accomplish,’ he said, winking at her and Vicky. Dramatically, as he walked past, he slung his jacket over his shoulder and threw his head back. He flung open the fire exit door and stood for a moment to inhale the fresh, cold, morning air that blew in. He turned his face up to the sun and felt its warming rays. The girls stared after him, then at each other.
‘Oooh, what’s got into him?’ Vicky shrieked with laughter. A shrug of Tracy’s shoulders met her gaze but she smiled.
Dylan patted his trouser pocket. The diamond ring he had chosen was safe. Hopefully, Jen wouldn’t see it until the time was right. He hummed to the CD he’d put on before he’d sprinkled peppercorn over the steak, and putting a knob of butter carefully on the top of each piece, he placed it under the hot grill. Jen couldn’t contain her surprise at the beautifully decorated dining table, with the candles and the flowers, which she saw from the hallway when she walked in the door. The lights were dimmed.
‘Miss Jones?’ called Dylan.
‘Yes what’s that wonderful smell?’ She giggled, coming up behind him and putting her arms around his waist, as he took the plates out of the oven where they’d been warming.
‘Your slippers are by the fire, and when you’ve put them on you can sit down. Dinner, my love, will be served in a few minutes,’ he said, as he turned to hand her a drink. As she took the glass from him, he reached out to hold her face in his hands and smothered it with tiny kisses.
‘Mmm...I feel really special,’ she sighed with contentment, as she sat at the table and put her feet up, raising her glass of fruit juice to him. He raised his glass of wine and took a big gulp. Max circled once or twice at Jen’s feet and lay down.
‘Mmm …’ she sighed, taking in the moment. Jack caught her gaze, and not taking his eyes off hers, he walked the few steps to stand before her. The moment felt dreamlike, as she watched him put his hand in his pocket and bring out a blue silk box. For a few seconds time stood still, before he dropped on one knee in front of her and opening the box, asked with tears in his eyes and his voice filled with emotion, ‘Please say you’ll marry me, I love you so much.’
About the Authors
Carol and Bob Bridgestock were both born and lived in West Yorkshire until they relocated to
the Isle of Wight in 2003. Between them they have a staggering 47years employment with the police, Carol being a member of the Civilian support staff and Bob being a Senior Police Officer.
As a career detective Bob worked in the CID at every rank. For over half of his service he was a senior detective, retiring at the rank of Detective Superintendent.
As a Senior Investigative Officer (SIO) in charge of homicide cases he took command of some twenty-six murder investigations, twenty-three major incidents including shootings and attempted murders and over fifty suspicious deaths and numerous sexual assaults, some of which were extremely high profile in his last three years alone.
In 1988 Carol commenced working for the Police as a member of the support staff in the Administration Department. As a supervisor she received a Chief Constable’s commendation for outstanding work for her determination and drive creating a poster competition for an Autumn Fall Crime initiative.
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Consequences Page 27