“I really wanted to come back to work. I wanted tocontribute, but I don’t think I’m up to it. I could just about handle what happened today, but this? I’m a bloody mess. I can’t bear it for them...”
“I know.”
“I came back too early. I’m not ready...”
“Do you think you ever would be ready for something like this?”
It was a good question and for a moment Charlie said nothing.
“You can’t prepare yourself for tragedies like this, nor is there an easy way to deal with them. I’d be very worried if youwereable to just shrug them off.”
Charlie looked up at Helen as she continued:
“You’re a good officerbecauseyou care, Charlie, not in spite of it. You’re the most determined, committed, honest copper I know. Youwon’t believe me, I know, but you are and that is why whatever you feel now, you mustn’t give up. Because you’re going to be one of the best police officers this force has seen.”
“Please—”
“I mean it, so cry your heart out, cry all night if you want to, but I want to see you back in tomorrow fighting fit. The Simms family will need you and we will need you if we’re going to get justice for them. Wehaveto bring the killer to book now.”
Charlie lowered her head but didn’t fight back.
“So please don’t give up on me, Charlie.”
75
Luke Simms lay in bed, listening intently to the voices in the hall downstairs. He’d heard the key turn in the door, then earnest, fast conversation—he could tell by the deep tone of one of the voices that his father had returned from the hospital. He had rushed off there as soon as he got the call. None of them could believe the news and Luke knew that his father would have to see Alice before he could accept that it was true.
There was no way Luke could accompany him, so he’d had to stay where he was, laid up in his aunt’s spare room. Mary and her husband had popped in intermittently to check up on him and to offer him some consoling words, but they didn’t really know him and were tongue-tied anyway. So, after a while, he said he’d try to sleep and they’d left him alone.
But he couldn’t sleep, of course. All he could think of was Alice. The games they used to play, the languages they invented, the way sheused to fight dirty when they scrapped. She was so much younger than him but had always been mature beyond her years. She often came across as the more sensible of the two—the grade-A student to his football obsessive. She was also a brilliant manipulator, able to wrap their father round her little finger whenever she chose to. Luke had never had that gift and he envied her. For it was just him and his dad now.
He heard the landing creaking and immediately closed his eyes. Moments later, his door opened gently and he heard his father creep in. He had wanted his father to stay, so he could talk to him, be with him, but now that he was back he suddenly felt overwhelmed with the misery of their situation. He didn’t want to add to his dad’s worries, so, keeping his eyes closed, he pretended to sleep, working hard to calm his breathing to complete the fiction.
His father hovered above him, then suddenly leaned in, planting a gentle kiss on Luke’s cheek.
“Love you,” he whispered, his voice quivering as he spoke.
He rose and Luke heard his footsteps receding as he crept from the room. His father hesitated in the doorway and Luke kept stock-still, willing himself not to blow it now. Then his father pulled the door to and Luke was alone once more. He lay there staring at the ceiling, wondering if Alice was at peace.
As his thoughts turned on his beloved sister, he was startled by a new noise. Something he’d not heard before in his short life.
His father, in the room next door, crying his heart out.
76
Helen walked briskly away from Charlie’s house. She had left her old friend in a decent place, despite the traumas of the day. Charlie had agreed to rest up and think about things—Helen didn’t want her making any snap decisions that she would come to regret. It was very easy in the heat of the moment to make the wrong call. Better to sleep on it and come again at the problem the following day. Helen hoped she would return to help the team, but she couldn’t be sure she would. It was a long time since she’d seen Charlie as shaken as this.
It was all a far cry from the happiness that she, Steve and Helen too had enjoyed in their cozy family home. Jessica’s arrival had transformed all their lives and Helen had enjoyed her role as godparent. She didn’t really do the religious side of things—she had long since given up believing in anything like that—but she took the rest of her duties seriously, buying her toys and books and spoiling her with treats when her parents weren’t looking.
Helen had no children of her own, had never had younger siblings or nephews and nieces to care for and she had found it an oddly moving experience holding the tiny little girl in her arms. Helen had taken delight in watching Jessica blossom into a cheeky little girl, marveling at her ability to walk and “talk.” Human beings really were little miracles when you thought about it. She had taken plenty of snaps of the growing girl, many of which now decorated her flat, giving the formerly sterile space a sense of life and hope. But the joy they all felt toward her, toward life in general, had been tarnished by recent events. The death of little Alice would stay with them all for a long time.
A bitter wind was ripping through the city tonight and Helen realized she didn’t have her scarf. Charlie had given it to her this time last year and Helen was vexed now to think that she couldn’t remember where she’d left it. She’d kick herself if she’d lost it for good. She would need it in the days that lay ahead.
Southampton was now swathed in darkness. Night had settled upon it, bringing with it a distinct air of menace. Helen felt it keenly, as did the many officers who were out on the streets now, keeping a watchful eye for fresh trouble. Helen had pulled every uniformed officer back from leave and even requested auxiliary numbers from neighboring forces. Along with the extra fire service resources, it was a big show of strength and Helen hoped that it would be enough to prevent more devastation. Ford was under surveillance, the city was on red alert, everything should be okay.
So why did Helen feel so anxious? Under the cover of darkness, terrible things had happened. Three lives had been taken and many more touched by these awful fires, and somehow Helen knew in her gut that it wouldn’t end here. Was she missing something? Was there more she could yet do? Helen sensed those familiar feelings creeping up on her again. She didn’t seem to be in control of this situation, she felt hopeless and helpless, and in spite of everything she’d done, her instincts now told her that more people would die before this thing was over.
77
