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Her mother certainly would expect her to come straight back.
And . . . she didn’t want to.
Not without James.
Which presented a problem.
But it was a problem that could wait for another day. Today she was going to enjoy the fact that the house was being repaired, Jerry had been found, and the reign of terror that Robby and his friends had waged through the neighborhood was finally over.
Everything else could be dealt with some other time.
She had left a little earlier today so she could speak with Mr. Greenberg before she started her rounds, and she found him in the kitchen, making tea.
“Ms. Farnsworth.” He raised his mug to her. “I hear you were in the middle of the biggest Flying Squad take down in months.”
She blinked, and irrationally, suddenly felt like weeping.
She stared at him, and he set his mug down carefully.
“That was not a criticism.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I heard only glowing comments about your conduct, mostly from PS Yates. Who wants to offer you a job, by the way.”
“What?” Her voice came out a little hoarse.
“He thinks you’re exactly the kind of person who’d make a wonderful police officer, and he’s been wanting to hire more women.” Mr. Greenberg looked like he was trying to soothe a nervous beast.
She took a deep breath. She was often in the center of trouble, but she didn’t know what she could or would have done differently. “It’s just that my rounds put me in exactly the area where the gang was living. I passed that place a couple of times a day, and I found a lot of the envelopes their two hostages were dropping out of the window, hoping people would find them and come to the rescue.”
“I understand that. You did everything right. I’m not blaming you for anything.” He picked up his mug and took a sip of tea. “I’ll contact the Flying Squad today and find out if we need to do anything from our side, but I assume you already gave a statement?”
She nodded. “I think my part in things is done. Unless there’s a trial. Then I might be called.”
“And do you want to put yourself forward to apply as a WPC?” he asked. “Because I agree with PS Yates that you would make an excellent officer.”
She didn’t know what to say, but long term plans, long term careers, had never been her goal.
She had planned to come to London, find her father if possible, or exhaust every possibility before she gave up, and go back to the family bakery in Melbourne.
“Thank you, sir, but I would need to think about it. I’m happy in my current role.” Her mother had told her to never say never, and she used that bit of advice now, but her gut instinct was to say no.
Mr. Greenberg smiled. “I’m glad to hear it, because we would miss you. I think you’re excellent at your current job, too. You work well with everyone, and the police appreciate the information you give them. I’ve been complimented on your cooperative spirit many times.”
She inclined her head. “Thank you. I’d better be getting on.”
“Have a good day.” Mr. Greenberg lifted his mug in a salute, and Gabriella escaped gratefully.
She was thrilled the day was clear as she started her rounds, although the breeze was icy. The bright blue of the sky made up for it, and the rain had washed away the smog, so the air was crystal clear and the pared down beauty of the winter trees gave her pleasure.
Around eleven o’clock, when she saw a phone box at the corner of Holland Park, she checked her watch and decided she was due for a break. She closed herself inside, surprised at how nice it was to be out of the cutting wind, and rung up Ben in his office.
“Gabby.” Ben sounded relaxed and happy. “You calling for an update?”
“Yes. Have you heard anything?” She leaned back against the glass and watched a woman and two small children walk into the park.
“No, Havelock is puzzled. If your father thinks he can avoid this, he’s wrong, and the fact that no lawyer has responded makes us wonder if he’s contacted a lawyer at all.” Ben sounded like he was tapping a pen against his desk.
“The moment he tells someone, there’s potential for the facts of the case to come out,” Gabriella said. “He may be freaking out about other people knowing.”
“Agreed.” Ben sighed. “We’ll send a follow up, and if that doesn’t work, Havelock will ring him up on the phone next week.”