by Adam Croft
Me too, Caroline thought.
They carried the drinks back and set them down on the table. As Aidan sat next to Keira and put his arm round her, Sara shuffled uncomfortably.
‘Back in a sec,’ she said. ‘Just got to nip to the loo.’
Caroline watched her leave, gave it a moment or two, then stood up too. ‘Actually, I should probably go as well, before I get too comfy.’
With the others seemingly oblivious, she followed Sara to the ladies’, where she found her leaning on a sink, looking in the mirror.
‘I know this probably doesn’t help,’ Caroline said, ‘but I didn’t know either. I just assumed… Well, you know.’
‘I knew I should’ve just come out and asked him.’
‘I dunno, Sara. They could’ve known each other a while for all we know. It might not’ve made a difference.’
Sara shook her head. ‘Less than a week. While you were at the bar she made a point of telling us what a “whirlwind romance” it’d been.’
Caroline looked at her, wishing she could do something to make her feel better. She’d never seen Sara quite so upset or annoyed. ‘If it means anything, these sorts of things tend to fizzle out just as quickly as they started. The slow burners are the long lasters, as they say.’
‘I doubt that. I mean, look at her. She’s perfect for him. She’s bright, she’s bubbly, she’s bloody stunning. It’s probably a good job I didn’t say anything to him. Would’ve been even more embarrassing if I had.’
‘Don’t think like that,’ Caroline replied, far from sure as to how she should be thinking.
Sara looked at herself in the mirror, and Caroline watched as she snapped herself out of her mind, as if switching on the Sara Henshaw she knew everyone else wanted to see. In that moment, Caroline realised this was a woman who had her internal struggles and battles, but who kept them all well hidden from everyone else. In that respect, she saw much of herself in Sara.
‘Come on,’ she said, putting a hand on Sara’s shoulder. ‘Let’s go back and have a drink. If we get a few down Kiera she might out herself as a closet arsehole and force Aidan to ditch her.’
Sara lifted one corner of her mouth into a half-smile. ‘Maybe we can get her to admit she’s a Nottingham Forest fan. That should do it.’
‘You mind your language, DC Henshaw. Come on.’
As they made their way back to the table and sat down, Caroline began to tune out the conversation. It joined the background hum of the pub, the atmosphere of life and community she was coming to enjoy so much. And as she watched her small but loyal team toasting another job well done, she realised her own role was evolving.
Epilogue
Caroline sat down in the consultant’s room and tried to gauge what he was about to say from the look on his face. He was a difficult man to read — deliberately, she imagined. She knew from her own job that it was often a good idea to keep one’s cards close to one’s chest, and to get the opportunity to present the information properly and professionally, without undue emotion.
Mark held her hand, squeezing it tight, her constant source of strength and support.
‘Okay, so we’re here for your scan results,’ the consultant said, as if he’d expected Caroline to bring them with her.
‘Yes. The MRI,’ she replied.
‘Indeed. I won’t keep you hanging on — it looks like good news. The surgery appears to have removed all the cancerous tissue, and there are no signs of any regrowth showing on the scan.’
Although the consultant continued talking, Caroline didn’t hear a word. Her head filled with so many emotions, she could barely identify them, never mind process them. Sheer joy took the lead, along with an enormous sense of relief. There was regret at everything she’d had to go through, anger that it had shaped her life so much and an unfortunate sense of guilt for those who hadn’t been so fortunate as to hear the words she’d just heard. And then there was Mark, and everything it had put him through.
‘Now, I understand it’s probably quite an emotional thing to hear,’ the consultant said, Caroline desperately trying to focus on his words. ‘Do you need a minute?’
‘No. No, I’m fine. Just a huge relief,’ she replied, Mark kissing her on the head.
‘From a medical point of view, I’m delighted to be able to say you’re now officially in remission. But there’s still quite a bit of aftercare to happen. We’re going to continue to monitor you, just to make sure there’s no regrowth or any symptoms cropping up elsewhere. That’ll involve regular checkups, scans and monitoring. It also means that on the unlikely off-chance something does crop up, we’re able to deal with it much more quickly, before it gets out of hand.’
As the consultant spoke, Caroline felt her thoughts drifting again, and was thankful for Mark being here with her. Her head was all over the place, but she knew he’d pick up the details. He always had. Always would.
A short while later, Caroline and Mark stepped outside and into the fresh air. Caroline breathed in deeply, savouring the sensation. There would be many more breaths to come, and she was going to make sure she enjoyed every single one of them.
She took off her scarf and unzipped her coat. It had been a bitterly cold morning when they’d arrived at the hospital, but the sun was now out, bathing everything in an energising yellow light.
She watched as the last remnants of frost and ice dripped from the railings, forming glistening puddles on the floor. After a long, hard winter, it seemed as though spring had finally sprung. It was shaping up to be a beautiful day.
Want more?
I hope you enjoyed In Cold Blood.
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If you did, you’ll be pleased to hear book 4 in the Rutland crime series is already in the pipeline.
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Acknowledgments
As I write these opening words of the acknowledgements, I’m watching the snow fall outside my office window. When I started writing the book, I had no idea if we were going to have a cold winter or a mild one. Not that it mattered: it’s a fictional book with fictional characters working for a fictional police force. But even though the world of my books is largely made-up, it carries on in a roughly parallel timeline with the real world — albeit one where things like global pandemics can be safely ignored and forgotten about.
In any case, the theme of cold was one that stuck with me throughout the writing of this book. Perhaps it’s a natural result of everyone having spent a year isolated from their family and friends. Maybe it was my own prescient foreknowledge about the cold weather we were going to have (and I’m totally claiming god-like wisdom here). More likely, it was my own fatalistic outlook on the world. Either way, a lot of things in this book were bloody cold, and I’m not just talking about the weather.
When I started writing this book, it was a mild autumn. We hadn’t even had a frost. I genuinely worried that in writing about a cold winter, I was virtually guaranteeing we’d all be walking around in shorts in February and that I’d look quite the tit — and I’m not just referring to the shorts. Thankfully, Old Mother Nature vindicated me.
But, even though I’m most thankful to Zeus and Michael Fish (is he still going? I know Zeus is getting on a bit), there are a number of other, less weather-controlling people I must thank.
As always, Graham Bartlett has been an invaluable resource in helping me make the policing aspect of my books as accurate as possible. The rather dull nature of real-life policing does mean procedural accuracy must often fall in line behind story. After all, the Rutland crime series being mostly set in plush police offices in Not
tingham or Derby with a cast of hundreds wouldn’t have quite the same appeal.
Simon Cole, Chief Constable of Leicestershire Police, was incredibly helpful with information on mobile ANPR and helping me out of yet another sticky plot point. Thank you, Simon.
Huge thanks go to Jon Brocklebank, Head Gardener at Barnsdale Gardens for all his help and assistance for the information on forcing roses into out-of-season growth. If anyone is reading this (why would you?) and you’ve never visited Barnsdale Gardens, you absolutely must. It’s much cheaper than a spa, a whole lot more therapeutic, and you don’t need to strip down to your pants if you really don’t want to.
Horticultural thanks also go to Adam Frost for information on the Black Baccara rose. Frosty, I apologise for Caroline’s comments — I couldn’t resist it. Those beers are definitely on me now.
One of the things I’ve been keen to portray most accurately in this series is Caroline’s struggle with cancer. For this, my thanks go once again to my friend and nurse (in the general sense — she’s not my nurse) Jo Clarke, who is rather too enthusiastically interested in cancer for me to feel comfortable speaking to her any more than once every couple of months.
One or two readers quite fairly pointed out that the police wouldn’t risk having a seriously ill officer on duty, and that there’s a huge duty of care from the police service. I hope no-one thought I was implying otherwise. Again, this is a situation where sometimes story leads and everything else follows. Caroline’s someone who tends to keep the severity of her own issues very much to herself. In any case, the books would be really rather dull if they consisted of a few hundred pages of Caroline sitting at home with a hot water bottle, watching Homes Under the Hammer.
On feedback, one resident did contact me to inform me that the viaduct is — actually, I think you’ll find, Mr Croft — in Northamptonshire. Although most of it is indeed in the fair county of Northants, the northern stretch of the viaduct that divides Seaton Meadows is very much in Rutland. Honestly. Look on a map.
You might have spotted in the blurb on the back of the book that I refer to the viaduct here as Welland Viaduct. Prior to the book’s launch, a couple of people contacted me to tell me the viaduct is actually called Harringworth Viaduct, and it was clear I knew nothing of the local area, having given myself away with such a death-penalty-inducing error. As you’ll have just read (unless you’ve skipped to this bit), locals in the book — as in real life — refer to it as Harringworth Viaduct. I’ll let you in on a little secret: so do I. Most people do. Unfortunately, the majority of official sources seem to agree its ‘proper’ name is Welland Viaduct. I know. I know. I don’t like it either. But with the books being sold in numerous countries around the world, it felt right that the blurb should use the viaduct’s more official name, and for the characters in the book to use the local sobriquet.
On the subject of dead bodies and viaducts, I need to thank Dr Samantha Pickles, Senior Lecturer in Forensic Science at the University of Bedfordshire, for all the help and information she provided. If you ever need to know what state a dead body would be in after spending a few hours under a freezing cold viaduct, Sam’s your girl.
To Lucy, Beverley, Jacob, Joanne, Helen and my mum for reading early copies of the book and not laughing too much while they offered their feedback — thank you.
To Nick Castle for a fantastic cover — thank you.
Thanks also to Jim and Xander for being top-drawer assistants and general dogsbodies. I couldn’t do half the things I do without those chaps keeping me on the straight and narrow.
If you’ve not yet listened to the audiobooks of the Rutland series, you really must. They’re absolutely fantastic. Enormous thanks go to Andy Nyman for bringing the books to life with his narration, and to Craig and the whole team at WF Howes for making it possible and being kind enough to publish the series in audiobook.
Thanks also to Rosie, Jonathan and everyone else in the film & TV department at PFD for all the work you’re doing on trying to get the series on TV. It’s been such a challenging year for that industry, and I appreciate everything you’re doing.
Huge thanks must go to all of the local, independent retailers in the East Midlands who’ve been supporting the series by stocking signed paperbacks. After the tough year they’ve had, nothing gives me more pleasure than seeing them do a roaring trade.
I’m absolutely certain there are people I’ve missed. Quite a lot of them, I imagine. It would be really handy if I kept a list of people I needed to thank while writing each book, so I could make sure I remember them all when it comes to writing the acknowledgements. To be fair, this time I did at least start a list, but then I forgot about the list itself, which made the whole plan rather redundant. If your name is missing from this rambling list of acknowledgements and you’re absolutely certain I don’t think you’re a pillock, this one’s for you: THANK YOU.
A special thank you to my patrons
Thank you to everyone who’s a member of my Patreon program. Active supporters get a number of benefits, including the chance of having a character named after them in my books. In this book, PC Vickie Hughes was named after a Patreon supporter.
With that, I’d like to give my biggest thanks to my small but growing group of readers who are currently signed up as Patreon supporters at the time of writing: Alexier Mayes, Andy Jeens, Angela Pepper, Ann Sidey, Anne Davies, Barbara Tallis, Carla Powell, Cheryl Hill, Claire Blincoe, Claire Evans, Daniel MacLagan, Dawn Godsall, Dawn Philip, Emiliana Anna Perrone, Estelle Golding, Francis W Markus, Gordon Aldred, Gordon Bonser, Helen Brown, Helen Weir, Jay Vernalls, Jean Wright, Jeanette Moss, Jenny Must, Josephine Graham, Julie Devonald Cornelius, Karina Gallagher, Kerry Hammond, Kerry Robb, Kirstin Anya Wallace, Leigh Hansen, Linda Anderson, Lisa Bayliss, Lisa Lewkowicz, Lisa-marie Thompson, Lynne Davis, Lynne Lester-George, Mandy Davies, Mary Fortey, Maureen Hutchings, Mrs J Budnik-Hillier, Nigel M Gibbs, Paul Wardle, Paula Holland, Peter Tottman, Rachel, Ruralbob, Sally Catling, Sally-Anne Coton, Sam, Samantha Harris, Sarah Hughes, Sharon Oakes, Sheanne Lovatt, Sim Croft, Sue, Susan Bingham, Susan Cox, Susan Fiddes, Sylvia Crampin, Tracey Clark, Tremayne Alflatt and Vickie Hughes. You’re all absolute superstars.
If you’re interested in becoming a patron, please head over to patreon.com/adamcroft. Your support is hugely appreciated.
Have you listened to the Rutland audiobooks?
The Rutland crime series is now available in audiobook format, narrated by Leicester-born Andy Nyman (Peaky Blinders, Unforgotten, Star Wars).
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What Lies Beneath and On Borrowed Time are available from all good audiobook retailers and libraries now, published by W.F. Howes on their QUEST and Clipper imprints.
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W.F. Howes are one of the world’s largest audiobook publishers and have been based in Leicestershire since their inception.
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Adam Croft
With over two million books sold to date, Adam Croft is one of the most successful independently published authors in the world, having sold books in over 120 different countries.
In February 2017, Amazon’s overall Author Rankings briefly placed Adam as the most widely read author in the world at that moment in time, with J.K. Rowling in second place.
Adam is considered to be one of the world’s leading experts on independent publishing and has been featured on BBC television, BBC Radio 4, BBC Radio 5 Live, the BBC World Service, The Guardian, The Huffington Post, The Bookseller and a number of other news and media outlets.
In March 2018, Adam was conferred as an Honorary Doctor of Arts, the highest academic qualification in the UK, by the University of Bedfordshire in recognition of his services to literature.
Adam presents the regular crime fiction podcast Partners in Crime with fellow bestselling author and television actor Robert Daws.
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