Sarah bowed her head. She had been so busy blaming David that she hadn’t thought of the team struggling in her absence.
‘Your ambitions are running ahead of your ability,’ Gabby said. ‘You’ve had a good day. You got us a lead – a decent one. But don’t expect our heartfelt thanks, because we’ve been sinking while you’ve been gone. You should be thankingusfor covering your arse for so long.’
‘I thought everyone hated me because of what he did.’
‘And would you blame them? They’d been betrayed by their own sergeant. A man who gave his team a bad name. Isn’t there enough hatred towards the police without him proving them right?’ She stared at Sarah, unblinking. ‘We would have had a lot more respect if you’d faced the music, rather than hiding away.’
‘I wasn’t well …’
‘And I appreciate that,’ Gabby said. ‘I’m not demeaning your mental health issues. But shit, Sarah … a whole year? You could have freed up your position in CID. We’re a family …’ She cast an eye through the window over the bunch of officers who were getting on with their work. ‘A fucked-up, dysfunctional family, but we work together as a team. All I’m saying is, you could have spared them a thought.’
Sarah felt sick listening to Gabby. She was the one who had forced this conversation, and now she was hearing everything she had been avoiding. All those late nights on the sofa, mindlessly eating crap. She’d been so focused on just getting through each day – hating her husband as if it were a sport, and holding onto the hope of going back to work – that she hadn’t thought about the team being an officer down. Truth be told, she hadn’t let herself go there.
‘Look, it’s your first day. Things will get easier. Just keep your head down and get on with your work.’
‘Sarge, how can I do that if you’re making me go home?’
‘You’re on restricted duties. Those are the rules. You’re limited to an eight-hour shift.’
‘Then why have you kept me out of the office all day?’
‘So you could pull your weight.’ She took a measured breath. ‘And yes, maybe it was to spare you some of the comments floating around. I’m not a primary school teacher. I don’t have time for all that shit.’
Taking in a long, slow breath, Sarah nodded. ‘Alright, Sarge. I’ll go.’
‘And Sarah?’
‘Yes?’
‘Stop calling me Sarge. Only probationers do that. Call me Gabby. Or Ball Breaker behind my back. But Sarge is reserved for when the top brass is sniffing about.’
A soft smile touched Sarah’s lips. ‘Will do.’
As she slung her coat over the banister, Sarah reflected on the day she’d had. She liked Gabby more than she feared her now that she could see where she was coming from.
‘Bad day?’ her husband’s voice rose from the living room.
‘Are you still here?’ she snapped. The conversation with Gabby had given her a clarity she hadn’t had for months. Home was meant to be a place of comfort, not unease. ‘I want you to leave,’ she said, stalking into the living room. ‘I know you have this twisted idea that you’re looking out for me, but you’re not welcome here anymore. Just go.’ She turned and walked out of the room before he could say anything more. She knew he wouldn’t follow her. He had no place here now.
As she soaked in the bath a while later, Sarah breathed in the silence of her cramped but comfortable home. Changes needed to be made, she knew that. In her diet, her lifestyle, and her job. But most of all she needed to learn to live on her own. Lavender steam relaxed her as she thought about her old friends. Elsie, Maggie, Lewis, David … they had all grown up here and all suffered in one way or another. What was it about Slayton that drew them all together, battle-scarred misfits of life?
Changed into a clean tracksuit, Sarah planned her attack. There was a late night of housework ahead of her. Not quite the excitement of CID tonight but it would keep her mind off things. And it was about time. Towel-drying her hair, she walked into the kitchen, exhaling a sigh of relief. Peace. David was gone, at least for now. These days, her husband seemed like the harbinger of doom, undermining her confidence and when it came to work, making her feel inadequate. She needed to make a clean break. Her gaze fell on the shed at the end of her garden, his old domain. Clearing it of his things was another job for her to-do list, although she was nervous about what she might find. Outside, the fence rattled in a gust of wind. It was only gone eight and evening had closed in.
‘Hey, puss,’ she said, as Sherlock joined her in the kitchen. ‘Would you like a cuddle?’ His tail aloft, the ginger cat swerved Sarah’s outstretched hands and made his exit through the cat flap. ‘I guess that’s a no, then,’ Sarah said, her attention drawn to the mat beneath. There was an envelope sitting on it that hadn’t been there before. Time stopped around her.
It wasn’t the envelope which frightened her. It was the name written in blue fountain-pen ink. With trembling hands, she reached for it, blood pounding in her ears. It was a name she had not been addressed by in a very long time.
Sarah Middleton.
14
‘Who’s that?’ Elsie called from the living room, as a lock rattled in the front door. Her body clock measured in mealtimes and she had run out of snacks.
‘It’s me,’ Christian called cheerfully, letting himself into the hall.
‘You’re late,’ she said. ‘It’s almost six o’clock.’
‘I was at the library picking up your books.’ He looked at her curiously as he let himself in. ‘Who else would it be anyway?’ His shirt tail was hanging out and his fringe was falling into his face.
