Seven
‘Youwererightaboutthese cocktails, Lucy,’ I said, enjoying both the view from the balcony of the sailing club, and the delicious drinks that kept on coming in a seemingly never-ending stream. ‘And the view is sensational, you’re right about that too.’
‘It’s such a pity Elliot couldn’t make it,’ Lucy said. ‘He did ask for a rain check though so we’ll arrange something for another night, okay?’
‘No need,’ I said. ‘I think, although I can’t be certain, that I may have met the man of my dreams today.’
Lucy sat up so abruptly she spilt her drink, but she shook the bright green liquid off her hand, and brushed it from her floral sundress, while she bombarded me with questions.
‘When? Who is he? Why are you only telling me this now? We’ve been here for over forty minutes. Where did you meet him? Does he know Sam?’
The drinks were strong and I’d had a few so I was finding it a little difficult to concentrate. Plus, I’d shared that bottle of white wine with Lucy at lunch and I’d opened the bottle of red that was in the welcome pack, while I was getting ready for this evening. I did that partly because I was nervous for some reason, and partly because … well, because I liked a glass of wine while I was taking a bubble bath, and a glass while I was getting dressed, and well, just because I liked wine.
‘Erm. This afternoon. No idea who he is. I’m telling you now because I didn’t want to mention it in front of Sam but now he’s gone to the loo, I can tell you. Has it only been forty minutes? It feels like much longer. I met him in the doorway of Fairlight Bakes. And… what was the final question?’
‘Does he know Sam?’
‘Right. Don’t know. All I do know is that he’s an electrician. And he drinks tea. And he’s handsome, and fit, and has a laugh like an angel. And a smile to match. And, oh, the downside is he wears flip flops.’
‘What’s wrong with flip flops?’
‘They’re not very manly, are they? And as an electrician, he should be wearing safety boots. He wouldn’t get his toes trodden on in those.’
‘You’re a little drunk, aren’t you?’
‘I’m not that little,’ I joked. ‘I’m an inch and a half taller than you.’
‘Okay, you’re just drunk.’
‘This is true. I blame you. And Sam. And the sea air.’
‘So anyone and anything but you, then?’
‘Absolutely. Plus, I have lots of things to think about. And it’s all very confusing.’
‘Like what? What can I do to help? Other than cut off your supply of cocktails this evening.’
‘Don’t you dare. I need to relax. Life is stressful, you know. I miss my best friend. My job is stressful. Do I even want to do it anymore? Can I do it after I got stabbed? I haven’t arrested anyone since and I might not–’
‘Wait! What? Did you just say you were stabbed? Are you serious? When did this happen, Erin? And why the hell didn’t you tell me about it?’
The realisation of what I’d said seemed to sober me up a bit. I hadn’t meant to simply blurt it out.
‘Erm. Yes. I was stabbed. But it wasn’t that serious, Lucy, and it was only a flesh wound. I was declared fit to work a couple of days later. I didn’t tell you about it because I knew you’d worry. Although it’s why I decided to take some time off. It … it was a bit of a wake-up call, I think. And it’s made me wonder if I want to spend my life arresting people who more often than not are back out on the streets again within the blink of an eye. There’s a lot wrong with our justice system you know. Playing whack-a-mole would get better results. Erm. You’re right. I am a bit drunk. Anyway, everything is fine. I’m fit and well and the sun is shining. What more could a girl ask for? Ooh wait. My glass is empty. Another cocktail, please?’
‘No. We need to talk about this, Erin. I knew something was going on with you. I told Sam today that I had a feeling you were keeping something from me. We’re best friends, Erin. If you can’t tell me you were injured at work, and it’s made you have doubts, quite rightly in my opinion, then who can you tell?’
‘Erm. I had to tell my supervisor so that he could record the details on the Force reporting system, and complete a RIDDOR form and–’
‘Erin! This is serious. We need to talk about this.’
‘Is everything okay?’ Sam asked, having returned from the loo with more drinks. Not from the loo, of course; he’d stopped at the bar for the drinks.
‘Everything is fine now,’ I said reaching for one of the cocktails.
‘Erin’s just casually mentioned that she was stabbed.’
‘Stabbed?’ He moved the tray of drinks away and placed them on the table. ‘What do you mean, stabbed? Here? Today?’
