Reginald Hill - Under World

‘She’s a free agent,’ said Pascoe.

‘That’s what Adam said about Eve,’ said Wishart caustically. ‘Look, Pete, once the Press get on to this, and the Powers That Promote get round to reading the Press, you could be in real bother. OK, I know that Big Andy loves you, but not even Mid-Yorks is a hereditary monarchy … no, don’t say anything you might regret. Just push off and get some lunch. Take your time. You look like a wet weekend in Largs.’

Pascoe left, closing the door very gently behind him. Wield was waiting for him outside.

‘Everything OK?’ said the sergeant.

‘Yes, fine.’

It was an instinctive response, defensive, distancing. He’d always hidden doubts and sometimes pain beneath a cloak of confident control. As a graduate entrant to the police, he’d wrapped the cloak even tighter as a defence against sneers from above and mockery from alongside. And now it was a response that felt as if it had been printed in his genes.

Wield said, ‘I don’t fancy owt round here. Why don’t we find a pub out of sight of a pit and pretend we’re commercial travellers?’

‘All right,’ said Pascoe. ‘Why not? My car’s round the back.’

‘My bike’s out front if you’re not fussy who you’re seen with your arms round.’

It dawned on Pascoe that Wield was offering more than a lift.

He was offering himself as a friend, a confidant.

There had been a moment not long ago when Wield himself had needed an ear to pour his doubts into, a secure, compassionate and unjudgemental confessional, and Pascoe had proved sadly inadequate. To ignore his offer now, as he had ignored his need then, would be to fix their relationship for ever. Perhaps that was what he wanted. Perhaps that was what he had always wanted, relationships which were fixed, certain, and unchanging. Perhaps that was why he had joined the Force in the first place. To feel himself supported by a hierarchy which left little doubt where you were, and to devote himself to a job whose basic function was to preserve the sum of things by law.

These thoughts came not singly but in a bubbling torrent, confused but not uncontrollable. Control would always be an option for Pascoe, until one day perhaps he controlled himself out of this life.

That thought swam up through the maelstrom, sole and terrifying. Where the hell had it come from? No, don’t answer that, he thought.

‘Wieldy, I’ll be proud to be seen hanging on to you,’ he said. ‘Only I’m not going to eat any live chickens as we ride!’

‘Just get her out of here!’ screamed May Farr. ‘You little whore! It was a black day you ever got your claws into this family!’

Stella Mycroft, overcome with remorse at the sight of Mrs Farr’s faintness, had tried to modify her claim to having heard Colin confess.

‘No, he didn’t actually say he’d done it, not in so many words, but he was right upset about something nasty that had happened down pit, that was clear, and I thought …’

‘When did you ever think about owt but your own gratification?’ Mrs Farr had demanded, beginning to recover. After that one thing led to another and Stella Mycroft’s remorse quickly evaporated under the heat of the older woman’s fury and soon she was giving as good as she got.

‘It’s not me who harmed your Colin,’ she yelled. ‘He were glad to be shut of me. He’d been harmed beyond repair years since, like poor old Billy. Mebbe if you’d been more of a proper wife and mother, Billy wouldn’t have gone wandering round the woods with other people’s kids and Colin wouldn’t be lying in that hospital now!’

That’s when May Farr had started screaming abuse and looked ready to back it with physical attack till Arthur Downey put his arms round her and cried to Ellie, ‘For God’s sake get her out of here!’

Stella took little persuading. At the front door she said to Ellie, ‘You’re seeing us at our best, aren’t you? You’ll have some grand tales to tell when you get back home.’

‘Mrs Mycroft, what was that all about? What’s this got to do with Mr Farr’s death? Did Colin confess to you or not?’

‘It’s well seeing you’re a copper’s wife,’ said Stella. ‘Nothing but questions. Well, they can ask till their faces are as blue as their uniforms, they’ll not get anything out of me.’

Her tiny, beautiful face was set in an expression of defiance but the flawless blue eyes which locked with Ellie’s for a second were haunted by despair.

‘Mrs Mycroft, are you all right?’ asked Ellie. ‘Can I help …?’

‘Round here, you help your own,’ said Stella. ‘That’s mebbe the trouble.’

She gazed out along the frowning terrace.

‘I thought it’d be better up on the estate,’ she said. ‘But it’s just the same. People thought I were upset when Colin went off to the Navy. Well, I were. Not that he’d gone, but that he’d not taken me with him. He never wanted me but for the usual. Once I realized that, it made things easier. But it still hurt.’

‘I’m not sure I understand,’ said Ellie.

‘Why should you, love? You’ve got to live it to understand it. I’m off. Good luck, missus. Once you get mixed up with the Farrs, you bloody need it!’

She teetered away on her high heels, a perfect porcelain doll, but with steel beneath the glaze.

Ellie went back in, expecting to find May Farr still in need of calming down. Instead the atmosphere had changed completely. She was on the telephone talking excitedly.

‘It’s the Union lawyer,’ explained Downey. ‘I think the police are going to let her see Colin.’

‘I should damn well think so,’ said Ellie. She regarded the man curiously. Stella had described his devotion to May Farr as pathetic but she recalled Peter in one of his more philosophical detective moods saying that pity, disapproval, or contempt, must not be allowed to affect judgement of an emotion’s kinetic power.

Peter. Where was he? What would he do when he found out where she was?

‘It’s a strange business, Mr Downey,’ she said to distract her mind. ‘What do you really make of it?’

His long face twisted into a baffled smile.

‘God knows,’ he said. ‘People do odd things. None of us should run to lay blame. It’s like down the pit. Take all the care you can and there’ll still be accidents, people killed, mained … if you can look after one other person, you’ve done all that can be asked … if we all did that, life would be OK, wouldn’t it?’

There was no doubt who his one other was.

May Farr put down the phone. Her face was rejuvenated.

‘They’ve said I can visit him,’ she said. ‘That’s good, isn’t it? That must mean they don’t reckon there’s a case against him.’

Ellie realized that they were both looking at her attentively. I’ve been elected police consultant! she thought resentfully. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she could have confidently confirmed the woman’s optimism, but the image of Dalziel’s friendly smile rose in her mind.

‘It means it certainly can’t be a watertight case,’ she said carefully. ‘Mrs Farr, let me drive you up to the hospital.’

The woman who had been putting on her top coat looked assessingly at Ellie, then said in a kindly voice, ‘No, love, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. There’s no point, really.’

Thinking she meant there was little chance that they’d let her in to see Colin also, Ellie opened her mouth to say she didn’t mind. Then she realized that the woman simply meant she had no part left in this drama.

‘Arthur will take me. Shouldn’t you be getting back to your little girl, Mrs Pascoe?’

‘She’s in the crèche,’ said Ellie. ‘She’ll be all right. They’re very good and she loves it there. Couldn’t I …?’