‘I still don’t think we should rule him out,’ Sarah said.
‘Yeah, yeah. I gather that. But thankfully you’re not leading the investigation,’ Yvonne replied. ‘“Softly softly, catchy monkey,” as the DI says.’
But Sarah wasn’t ready to concede just yet. ‘Christian is gutting the house. He’s lit a fire in his garden. There could be evidence there.’
‘That house is a health hazard. Good luck to him, I say.’
‘But why is he spring cleaning when his mother’s unconscious in hospital …’ Sarah said. ‘He’s involved somehow. I can feel it.’
‘Are you acting sergeant?’ Richie’s voice rose from behind. He had a habit of making Sarah jump and this time was no exception.
Yvonne responded with a nod.
‘Excuse me, I was here first.’ Sarah looked from Richie to Yvonne, her nerves frayed. ‘What about the letter? It’s obviously someone who knows me.’
‘You think so?’ Yvonne’s eyebrows rose a notch. ‘Given your track record, I wouldn’t be surprised if you wrote it yourself.’
‘That’s harsh,’ Sarah said, heat rising to her face. She shoved Elsie’s journal back into her bag. She was wasting her time here.
‘I’m only saying what everyone’s thinking.’ Yvonne’s stiff laughter filled the air. ‘It’s not that long since you were talking to your husband’s ghost!’ The office fell quiet. She had gone there. Laid Sarah’s most embarrassing moment bare. Yvonne’s manner was unprofessional and not the way a sergeant should behave.
‘Excuse me.’ Sarah brushed past Richie. She’d had enough humiliation for today.
‘That was out of order,’ she heard him say to Yvonne as she marched out the door.
The ladies’ toilets were mercifully empty. There were just four cubicles in the windowless space, available only to police station staff. A roof fan whirred limply as it sucked out stale air. It smelt permanently of sweet ‘seasonal berries’ which squirted from its automatic dispenser every thirty minutes without fail. Sitting on the lid of the toilet, Sarah grabbed some tissue from the dispenser and blotted away her tears. She hated that she cried when she was embarrassed. You’d think that she’d be used to it by now. She tried to recount the rules she’d set herself but found she couldn’t remember them.Oh yeah,she recalled,act normal.It seemed that ship had sailed. Thanks to Yvonne shooting her mouth off, everyone knew why she’d been placed on restricted duties to begin with.
She heard the main door creak open and sighed. Three knocks on the cubicle followed. ‘Occupied,’ she said. The tips of a man’s leather shoes came into view.
‘It’s me.’ Richie’s voice echoed from the other side of the door.
Silence.
‘Are you OK?’
‘What are you doing in here?’
‘Asking if you’re OK.’
Quietly, Sarah wiped her nose.
‘She went too far. She shouldn’t have brought that stuff up.’
Sarah sniffed. ‘Maybe she’s right. I keep getting it wrong. I’m not cut out for this.’
‘Don’t play into her hands. It’s exactly what she wants.’
‘I still talk to him, you know,’ Sarah said. ‘Despite everything that’s happened … I know he’s dead. But it was so hard, the way he went. I needed to have it out with him, so I found myself shouting at thin air.’
‘No judgement here,’ Richie said. ‘We all do what we can to get by.’
‘Then after a while, I’d hear him in my head, imagining what he would say.’ She shook her head. ‘You must think I’m crazy.’
‘Not me,’ Richie replied. ‘I talk to toilet cubicle doors.’
Sarah gave him a watery smile as she unlocked the door and came out. The truth was, she hadn’t heard David’s imaginary voice since she told him to go. She hated herself for missing it. How messed-up was that?
‘Why are you being so nice to me?’
