M. Arlidge - Eeny Meeny

And I realized that it was his turn now and that this was just the beginning.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I didn’t mean what I said, I didn’t mean to hurt you and I’m sorry that I did.’

The words poured from her and Jake accepted her apology gracefully, gently nodding his forgiveness. When she’d turned up, he’d thought twice about letting her in, but after a moment’s hesitation had relented. It’s all very well in principle saying you’re going to cut someone out of your life, but when they are there on your doorstep, asking for your help, it’s hard to turn them away.

‘Can we go back to normal?’

It was ineloquently put but sincerely meant and it struck Jake in that moment that everybody had their own idea of ‘normal’, each person’s definition of it as weird and messed up as everybody else’s. He had been wrong to judge her so quickly, even if her anger and verbal abuse had been vile and unwarranted. She had clearly suffered – he didn’t know when or why – and if he made her feel better then that was a good thing. His own journey to the life he now led had been unpredictable and individual. Born to parents who never really wanted children, Jake had been palmed off on countless grannies and aunties – each as uninterested as the rest – until eventually entering the merry-go-round of foster care. He had suffered along the way – not in a bad way – but it’s hard to be unloved and not feel pain. Learning to control and use that pain had been the making of him, a way of managing his anxieties and expiating his demons in ways that excited him and others. He’d tried the submissive route and after he’d got over his initial fear had enjoyed it well enough, but in his heart of hearts he liked to be in control. He knew that deep down it was his insecurities that made the choice for him, but he could live with that. He was in charge now and that was what mattered.

He had reached a place in life where things were ordered and good. Which is why he knew that he would take her back. She had hurt him but was penitent. Did she have anyone else? Jake thought not and realized for the first time that she needed him. To reject her would be cruel and dangerous.

‘Yes, we can go back to normal. But I’ve got a client coming in five, so…’

She took the hint and left, but not before she had crossed the room and hugged him. Another breach of protocol, but Jake would let it go because it felt good. He watched her go, surprised at how relieved he felt. She needed him for sure, but perhaps he was now beginning to realize that he needed her.

Hannah Mickery had not had a good night. She had visited prisons many times in a professional capacity and had never failed to be revolted by the experience. So she’d gone to her night in the cells with real dread. And, ok, nothing bad had happened to her. But it had been a long, cold, depressing night with only a seventeen-year-old junkie for company – a junkie who’d pissed herself with fear in the middle of the night. The urine had run into the corner of the cell and stayed there, stinking out the place for the rest of the night.

She just wanted to get home, have a shower and sleep . She’d remained calm throughout it all, but now she felt washed out and aggrieved. So when her lawyer, Sandy, arrived to pick her up, she breathed a deep sigh of relief. She kissed him – something she’d never done before – and asked him to take her home. Sandy, however, had other ideas.

‘There’s someone you should meet.’

‘Well, whoever it is they’ll have to wait. I’m going straight home to bed.’

‘It’s a one-time-only offer, Hannah. I think you should take my advice on this one.’

Hannah slowed her march and turned to face Sandy.

‘An hour of your time, that’s all I ask. I’ve brought clothes from your place. You can shower at mine if you’re quick. The meeting starts in just under an hour. Trust me, Helen, it’s the one you’ve been waiting for.’

At Sandy’s house, the water cascaded over Hannah, reviving her instantly. The experience should have been soothing, but Hannah was too wired for that. She was full of questions, but her overriding emotion was one of girlish excitement. She had hit the jackpot. She and Sandy had pulled it off.

On the ride over, he’d outlined the proposition. It was more generous than she could have hoped for. They wanted a lot for it of course, but she had prepared scrupulously and had all the material she needed. After the newspaper deal, they’d wrap up a publishing deal, which would lead to TV appearances and who knows what else. She would make her name, be rich and then who knows? Perhaps she’d move to the States. There was enough devious criminality there to keep her busy for a lifetime.

She hadn’t expected it to be a woman. And especially not such a glamorous one. Just prejudice really – one expected every tabloid hack to be a bloke. Still, she seemed incredibly clued up, impressing both Hannah with her detective work and barefaced cheek in getting to this point. It was all about getting ahead of the competition. The deal was hammered out quickly and generously and the three of them shook on it there and then. At which she produced a bottle of champagne she’d brought with her – just in case. Once again Hannah marvelled at her front.

Still it was good stuff. And had an instant effect. Hannah could take her drink, so it must have been the adrenalin rush of success making her feel light-headed. By the looks of things, Sandy was feeling the same way too.

Helen stood in front of Whittaker’s desk like an errant schoolgirl. She knew why she’d been summoned. He knew she knew. But still he took his time, leafing through page after page of the Evening News , before folding it up and placing it carefully on the table, the front page facing up.

‘CLUELESS!’

The headline screamed out at her. She had read Emilia Garanita’s article first thing this morning and knew immediately that it would cause ripples up and down the chain. It had a few salient details about Amy and Sam, and Ben and Peter, and a couple of sketchy pointers on Martina. But it led on the release of Mickery and the suspension of ‘a senior officer working on the current investigation’. It looked bad. Helen guessed that Whittaker had already had his ear badly bent by his superiors, such was the look of thunder he’d given her when she entered.

‘I’ll call her,’ Helen found herself saying. ‘See if I can get her to call off the dogs.’

‘Bit late for that, isn’t it? Besides, there’s no need. I’ve called her myself. She’ll be here in five minutes.’

Emilia entered the room, looking like the cat that had got the cream. She took her time deciding between tea and coffee, indulging in small talk and so on. She had been summoned, anointed, and she was clearly going to enjoy herself.

‘Do you have anything to add, Detective Superintendent? Do you still have faith in Inspector Grace’s leadership of the investigation? Have there been any developments?’

‘I’m not here to talk about the case. I’m here to talk about you,’ Whittaker fired back brusquely.

‘I don’t follow -’

‘It’s time you backed off this one. Your interventions are misleading and unhelpful and I want them to stop. No more articles until there is something genuine to report. Get me?’

Helen was amused by the boldness of his approach – no one stood between Whittaker and promotion.

‘I do hope you are not trying to dictate to the press -’

‘That’s precisely what I’m fucking doing. And if I were you I’d heed what I’m saying to you.’