Chapter 15
1182 Words
15
Jack Culverhouse let out a sigh and turned back two pages, scanning the paragraphs to work out at which point he’d lost concentration this time. Military history wasn’t usually his thing, and he cursed Steve for having even suggested the book in the first place. Personally, he couldn’t give two shits about Gallipoli, but it got better, Steve had assured him. Honestly, by the end he’d be gripped. Gripped by a bloody coma, perhaps.
The ping of an incoming text message on his phone would more often than not go completely ignored, but this time Jack was grateful for the distraction. He didn’t recognise the number on the screen, so unlocked his phone and opened the message.
Hi Jack. Just wondered if you still wanted to meet for drinks. I’ll supply the white wine vinegar. Cx
He’d forgotten all about meeting Chrissie yesterday. His mind had been completely occupied by Operation Counterflow. During a big case, it was rare that he was able to concentrate on much else. He knew it probably didn’t help, and that allowing his brain time to think and work problems out in the background would likely be more beneficial. That was easier said than done, though.
The most disturbing cases would keep him awake at night. That was particularly the case if they thought more people were in danger the longer it took the police to catch the killer. With this case, they just didn’t know. It was likely — as most murders were — to be a one-off, but Jack had experienced a few serial murder cases in his career and the fear was always there that the next case might be another.
He decided the best thing to do would be to stall Chrissie. He’d found her attractive and strangely intriguing, but something was telling him to hang fire for a bit. He knew it was daft to be so worried about getting involved with a woman, especially as she was only asking him round for a drink, but his fears remained. Besides which, he always felt strangely guilty enjoying himself when he was meant to be working round the clock for a victim’s family. This time, he had two victims’ families to work for.
He hit Reply and tapped out a response.
That sounds lovely, but can’t do anything in the next few days. Work has gone mad — will explain when we meet. X
He always felt strange ending a text message with a kiss, but Chrissie had done it and apparently it was polite to respond in kind.
Her response came back quickly.
I know that feeling. I have to force myself to take time out. Hasn’t your boss heard of the Working Time Directive? Cx
You can try asking him. I wouldn’t like to. X
What if I told him you were going to meet me for drinks tomorrow night? Cx
He was trying to think of a witty response to reply back with when he heard the sound of a key opening the front door.
‘Alright?’ he called out to Emily as she walked through into the living room.
‘Yeah. Think so. You?’
‘Slowly being destroyed from the inside out. The usual. Had a good day?’
Emily shrugged. ‘Yeah, nothing special. Is there any food?’
‘Bit of shepherd’s pie left in the oven. Probably gone a bit crusty by now, though. I didn’t know what time you were coming back.’
‘S’alright. Can’t beat a crusty shepherd’s pie,’ Emily replied from the kitchen.
‘That’s just because you’re getting too used to my cooking.’
Jack turned his attention back to his mobile phone, but no witty responses were coming to him. A few moments later, Emily came back into the living room with a plate of shepherd’s pie and sat down in the armchair.
‘Not good news?’ she asked him.
‘Mmmm?’
‘That face you’re pulling. You do that when you don’t know what to say.’
‘What face?’
‘That one. The pursed lips and the half-forced smile. You’ve always done it.’
It was comments like that which made Jack wonder how much Emily really remembered of her younger years with him, before Helen upped sticks and left, taking Emily with her.
‘I can almost see the cogs turning,’ Emily said. ‘It looks painful.’
‘Lovely. Thanks.’
‘You’re trying to think of a response to something, aren’t you? Who’s texted you?’
Jack laughed. ‘You ever thought of signing up for police training college?’
‘Nope. Couldn’t stand the complete and utter destruction of my soul.’
‘Charming.’
‘So go on, then. Who is it?’
‘Who’s what?’
‘The text or email you’ve received. The one you’re looking at right now. And don’t say you’re not.’
Sometimes, when he was worrying about how he was struggling to work Emily out, she’d throw him a curveball like that and realise she was usually at least five steps ahead of him.
‘It’s nothing,’ he said, hoping she’d change the subject.
‘Yeah right. It’s a woman, isn’t it?’
Jack tried to catch the involuntary upward flick of his eyebrows, but couldn’t quite stop it in time.
‘Knew it,’ Emily said. ‘Go on. What’s her name?’
‘It’s not like that. It’s just a friend, so don’t go getting excited.’
Emily shovelled another forkful of shepherd’s pie into her mouth. ‘I’m not getting excited. I’m just trying to make sure you don’t f**k it up, that’s all.’
‘Oh, charming.’
‘No offence.’
‘No, none taken,’ he replied, laughing a little.
‘So what’s her name?’
Jack sighed. ‘Chrissie.’
‘Oooh, nice. She sounds… vivacious.’
‘Vivacious?’
‘Yeah, you know. Lively. Fun.’
Jack laughed again. ‘I know what vivacious means. I just don’t see how you managed to get that from her name. And most worryingly, you were probably right.’
‘Thought so. Tell me about her.’
‘She’s vivacious.’
Emily shot him a look that said she wasn’t impressed.
‘That’s about all I know,’ he said, locking his phone and putting it face-down on the arm of the sofa. ‘I only met her yesterday.’
‘At work?’
‘At the supermarket.’
‘Ohh, nice. They say they’re the best places to meet new lovers.’
‘Well “they” can get stuffed. We got along and swapped numbers, that’s all. Easier than meeting once a week by the Pot Noodles.’
‘And do you like her?’
‘I don’t know her. She wants to meet for drinks, but I’ve got a lot on.’
‘Yeah, looks like it.’
‘Well pardon me for having a rest at the end of a long day.’
‘Drinks are restful. Meet her for drinks. Has she suggested a day or time?’
Jack sighed. He wasn’t going to get anywhere by being oblique. Emily would always manage to see right through it.
‘She asked about meeting up tomorrow.’
‘And you’re trying to get out of it, right?’
‘I’m trying to work out the best way to approach things.’
‘Sorry, Dad. That’s horse s**t. If she was just a friend you wouldn’t need to worry about the best way to approach things. And if she was potentially more than a friend you shouldn’t risk f*****g it up by trying to get out of meeting her.’
Jack looked at his daughter for a few moments. ‘Em, you’re fourteen.’
‘Exactly. I know how the world works by now. What are you doing tomorrow night?’
‘I dunno. Depends what time I finish work.’
‘Who’s the lead officer on the case?’
‘Em… Don’t start.’
‘Exactly. You are. So you decide what time you finish work.’
‘It’s not as easy as that. I can’t just pack up my bags at five o’clock and go home.’
‘No, but you can pack them and go to Chrissie’s.’
‘It’s not quite that simple.’
‘Course it is. I want you to, Dad. I want you to have drinks with her. I want you to be happy.’
Jack looked at his daughter. He’d never heard her speak like this before. If her keenness to see him meet with Chrissie was because she wanted him to be happy, how could he possibly say no?
‘I’ll see what time I get. No promises. And that’s the end of it, alright?’
Emily raised her eyebrows and went back to watching the TV.
Jack typed out a text message and sent it to Chrissie.
Tomorrow sounds great. Let me know the details x
- Writer
