Cath Staincliffe: Desperate Measures

Norma turned away, her hands no longer smoothing the sheets but one set of nails digging into the flesh at the base of her thumb.

Norma Halliwell had been living in a cocoon, Janine thought as she walked along the corridor to the exit. A comfortable life as the doctor’s wife, teaching piano and looking after the house. Respected, cosseted. Putting up with his dalliances because she had no option. It was a prison of sorts, trapped by her addiction. And the drug was the one true love of her life.

Janine found Richard, Shap and Butchers at the pub, the two sergeants half way through a game of pool. They paused to hear what the trip to the hospital had produced.

Shap shook his head, mouth twisted. ‘Who’d have pegged her for a junkie?’ he said.

‘You didn’t see that one coming, did you, Shap?’ Janine said. ‘Me neither. Well, this time, Norma took the lot. She wasn’t getting high, she was getting out.’

‘Guilt?’ Butchers said.

Janine shook her head. ‘She’d never hurt him. No matter what she felt about the affair, all that really mattered to her was where her next fix was coming from. He was her source. No way would she jeopardise that.’

Shap nodded to Butchers and they returned to the pool table.

‘No Lisa?’ Janine said.

‘She knows we’re here,’ Richard’s tone was cool.

‘Make her feel welcome, did you?’ Janine said.

‘Look, it’s sorted,’ he said. ‘I spoke to her this afternoon. But until the case is cracked she doesn’t know exactly how much damage she’s done. She probably wants to see how it plays out.’ He shrugged.

Janine studied him. ‘You can come across as very harsh, you know?’

‘Harsh? Hah! Harsh? You’re calling me harsh? Is this a staff appraisal or what?’ His eyes were gleaming, was he teasing her or spoiling for an argument? It wasn’t how she would have managed the situation, coming down so heavily on Lisa. Lisa knew she’d made a mistake, a basic one and was obviously beating herself up about it. She would need to improve her performance, regain her reputation for being conscientious and reliable, which Janine believed her to be. But a cold shoulder from her line manager, exclusion from the inner circle of the team, was nothing less than petty. Janine wondered if there was anything else going on, other problems in Richard’s life that were causing him stress and making him more judgmental. Teamwork was crucial to their job, to the possibility of success, and Janine prided herself on commanding the respect and loyalty of her troops but it could easily be jeopardized if schisms started appearing. She didn’t feel now was the right time to go into it any more with Richard. She could only hope they got to solve the case because if Lisa’s mistake put it out of reach then everything could collapse.

Richard was still looking at her. Janine held her hands up, letting it go.

Butchers potted the winning ball, shouting, ‘Yes!’ and Shap groaned with disgust.

‘Doubles?’ Butchers said.

Richard signalled to Janine and then to himself.

Janine picked up a cue.

‘You break,’ Shap said.

Janine took a sip of her drink and chalked her cue. ‘If Norma Halliwell didn’t shoot her husband, then who the hell did?’ she said.

She lined up her sights and drew back the cue, hit the ball, breaking the triangle and potted a shot.

Janine waited until Tom had gone to bed to call Pete, Charlotte already down and Eleanor ensconced in her room. He actually picked up the phone. ‘Can you come round now, we need to sort this out?’

‘Bit tricky, I’m afraid, I’ve got Alfie.’ He sounded pressured, like he was the only person in the world who had ever had to deal with a small baby. But she wasn’t going to let him wriggle out of it.

‘He is portable, isn’t he?’ Janine said, ‘You’ve not super-glued him to his cot? I’m in the rest of the evening.’ She kept her tone frosty hoping he’d realise how pissed off she was and that he needed to face the music.

When Janine heard the door and went to answer it, Pete was there on his own. ‘Managed to get him down,’ Pete said.

‘Good.’

They went in the kitchen, the scene of so many discussions, traumas and celebrations, throughout their married life.

‘I need you to pull your weight with the kids. I end up making excuses for you. They don’t want to hear it. I know Alfie wasn’t exactly planned but it’s not fair on our kids if you don’t find a way of maintaining that contact. We knew it’d be a bit difficult when Alfie first arrived but he’s two months old now. You need to make time for them as well.

‘It’s not that easy-’

‘I don’t care, Pete. You promised me and you owe them. They don’t need you any less because they’re bigger.’

‘I know,’ he rubbed at his face. He looked shattered. Janine knew the feeling.

‘In some ways they need you more,’ she said, ‘Tom especially-’

‘Janine,’ he interrupted her, ‘Tina’s got post-natal depression.’ He looked at her, then away. Was he serious? She saw him swallow, the slump of his shoulders as he exhaled.

‘She can’t get out of bed half the time. She can’t even feed him. It’s all I can do to keep turning up for my shifts and look after her and the baby. We’re really struggling.’

‘Oh God, Pete.’ She stared at him for a moment, taking it in. ‘Has she seen a doctor?’

‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘be a while till the medication kicks in.’ He sounded defeated. Janine had come across women suffering from the condition over the years, even one of them through work, a case of infanticide. Heart breaking. She could barely imagine the enormous strain of dealing with the illness alongside the demands of a new baby.

‘You should have told me,’ Janine said, ‘why didn’t you say anything sooner?’

He shrugged, ‘Hoped she’d improve.’ She felt sorry for him, a novel experience. She knew the baby had not been part of Pete’s game plan, as he put it. When he moved in with Tina he’d been hoping for a different life, unencumbered by kids and their demands. Now here he was starting out on parenthood all over again.

‘Right,’ Janine said, ‘I’ll explain to the kids. At least they won’t think you’ve traded them in for a younger model.’

He shot her a look.

‘You want a drink?’ Janine said.

He gave a wry smile. ‘I’d love a drink.’

They chatted over a glass of wine, Janine filling him in on Eleanor’s current mood and Charlotte’s antics. He promised that once things were on an even keel he’d be back on his regular visits.

‘You can always bring him here,’ Janine said, surprising herself, ‘bring him with you, if Tina’s OK to be left.’

‘That’s not a bad idea.’

‘I’m sure Tom would love to teach him the finer points of Call of Duty or whatever,’ Janine said.

Pete laughed.

She felt a moment’s poignancy, missing this, the company, the shared humour though after four years she was used to dealing with the kids, with the house, on her own. And it seemed to be all she could fit in her life. No space for romance. There were times when it looked like Richard and she might rekindle the flame that had flared between them briefly at the start of their careers, but she’d stepped back from the brink, realising she would rather have the certainty of his friendship than a risky shot at being a couple. And Richard’s track record with women wasn’t particularly persuasive if she was honest, he liked pastures new. Best all round, she thought as she saw Pete out, single, celibate, shattered.

‘The gun is still the only hard evidence we’ve got. Aaron Matthews fired it two years ago – and got sent down. The weapon was never recovered. And there’s no record of it being used in any crime since… until this week. Follow the gun,’ Janine said.