Chapter 34
1044 Words
34
Jack sat in his dark office, having sent the rest of the team home for the night. There wasn’t anything they could realistically do at this stage, and if any news were to come about overnight the call handlers would ring him. Amongst Mildenheath CID’s many interesting quirks was that shift work just didn’t happen. The unit was too small to accommodate it, so it was more often than not a case of working whatever hours were required, whenever possible.
He liked to sit in the dark solitude of his office once everyone had gone home. It gave him time to think, relax and reflect. If he went straight home he’d have his daughter, Emily, around the place. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her being there — on the contrary, he loved it — but sometimes he needed time and space to himself.
He flicked absentmindedly through his phone, the bright colours of the dating app’s icon catching his eye. He hovered his finger over the icon, remembering how Mackenzie and the others had talked him into setting up a profile, and how stupid an idea he’d thought it. He could just hold his finger down, click the X and delete it there and then.
But something was telling him otherwise. Surely a quick look wouldn’t hurt, right? He opened the app, and noticed a red dot over the Messages icon, indicating that he had new, unread messages waiting for him. He tapped his finger on it and found the message. It was from a woman called Christine K. The app demanded its users go under their real names, but hid their surnames behind an initial.
Christine K: Hey you! Why the secrecy? I’m intrigued... X
It took him a moment to realise what she was going on about. Although the app stipulated that users should only upload real photos of themselves, Jack had used an obscure close-up picture of one of his eyes. He didn’t know why he’d chosen that particular shot, but he didn’t really want to be recognised on there, so had immediately changed it from the photo Ryan had taken of him.
Slowly, he tapped out a reply.
Because I’m an international man of mystery. Can’t have the Russians spotting me on here. My cover would be blown.
He hit Send. Within seconds, three dots were dancing across the screen, indicating that Christine was typing a reply. He took the time to tap on her profile picture to get a closer look. He vaguely remembered seeing her on the app when Ryan set it up, and presumably must have indicated his approval by tapping the green tick rather than the red cross. He scrolled through her photos, and liked what he saw. Sure, perhaps she was a dress size above the sort of women he usually went for, but at his age he couldn’t afford to be too picky. In any case, Claudia Schiffer was hardly likely to be hanging around on dating apps.
A new message popped up at the top of his screen, so he navigated back to the Messages section to read it.
Christine K: Sounds like fun! Do you get to carry a gun? X
The problem with sending messages online was that tone of voice was lost. He assumed she couldn’t be stupid enough to have actually believed his message, so typed out his reply in the same vein of humour.
I don’t need to. I can kill a horse with my bare hands.
He waited to see her response. She was either going to like his sense of humour or be put off by it. He’d got used to that over the years.
Christine K: Now why would you want to do that? X
No choice. Restaurants round here are terrible.
He looked out of his window across the rooftops in Mildenheath town centre. It wasn’t the prettiest sight in the world, but it was all he had. The town needed cleaning up in more ways than one. Despite the multitude of regeneration plans the council had put forward over the years, nothing seemed to ever be happening on that front. In the meantime, the buildings got older and more dilapidated, and the once-pretty market town had begun to look more tired than ever.
He’d lost count of the number of memories he had of this place. They weren’t even divided into good or bad. They were just memories. Cases, incidents, drama. Mildenheath was a town that seemed to thrive on drama. If truth be told, many of the residents didn’t have anything better to do. He always felt sorry for the first response teams in uniform, being constantly called out to domestic disputes, arguments over f*******: and people who just didn’t know how to get along with others. And then, of course, there was the occasional but increasingly frequent dead body. Underneath the pathetic and laughable exterior of many parts of the town, there was a dark underbelly which — fortunately — few residents ever had to encounter. There were times when he felt jealous of his colleagues in uniform dealing with innocent f*******: brawls.
His phone vibrated again, and he looked at the screen.
Christine K: Why don’t you show me? X
His mind was elsewhere and he had no idea what she was talking about.
What do you mean?
Christine K: The local restaurants. Pick a really dreadful one and take me along to show me how bad it is. At least the local horses will sleep soundly x
Jack looked at this message for a few moments. It was a long time since a woman had asked him out. It had been almost as long since he’d looked at a woman with anything other than superficial appreciation. Was this even an offer of a date or was he reading too much into it? He was out of practise, that was for sure.
A date?
Jack wasn’t sure which response he wanted to see appear next. He went back to her profile and looked at her pictures again. Yes, she was definitely attractive. She seemed friendly, bubbly and confident, too, from what little interaction they’d had over a mobile private messaging system.
His phone vibrated with another reply.
Yes, a date. You game? X
He read the words again, twice, then swallowed hard, locked his phone and put it back in his pocket. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
- Writer
