If you’re ever thinking of having that one last drink for the road then I have a word of advice. Don’t. It might be the thing that turns your world upside down. Or maybe that’s just me.
Perhaps if I’d given myself a breathalyser things would have been different. I was pretty sure I was over the limit though. Three pints was usually right on the cusp; I’d only meant to have two but then Helen had texted me with her job news and I had one more to celebrate. I never needed much of an excuse back then.
I could have driven, I wasn’t remotely wrecked, not by my standards, but it was too risky. We used to look after our own but pulling over a senior cop was now a badge of honour. It hadn’t stopped me in the past but times had changed and despite my dinosaur badge I’d tried to change with them. Nobody in their right minds would call me ‘woke’ – they’d get a kick up the arse if they did – but I tried my best.
So instead of getting behind the wheel I threw the car keys at my DS, Laura Kemp, who plucked them out of the air with ease. I could never seem to catch her out. The enigmatic smile she gave me was equally annoying.
‘Home, James, and don’t spare the horses,’ I said.
‘Only my very good friends get to call me James,’ Laura said.
‘Watch your tongue, Sweetcheeks, I’m your detective chief inspector, I’ll call you what I want.’
Laura laughed. ‘Call me Sweetcheeks again and you’ll be trying to pull these out of your backside.’ She held up the car keys. ‘You sure though, Jack? Your precious Audi?’
‘’Bout time you did some work around here. You can drop me at home and get a cab back to the station,’ I said, climbing into the passenger seat and moving it back to give myself some legroom. Though we were only fifteen minutes away from my house I reckoned I could grab a quick kip on the way and be refreshed for a celebratory glass or two with Helen.
Laura did the opposite, moving the seat forward to accommodate her shorter legs. She was smaller than your average cop. Back in the day she wouldn’t have got in the force but they’d abolished the height requirement in the nineties – a positive move, I reckoned. There must have been loads of potentially brilliant cops, like Laura, who were rejected out of hand just because they were short-arses. I’d only just made it in myself. As my wife often joked, size wasn’t important. At least I hoped she was joking.
‘Any plans for the weekend?’ Laura asked, pulling out of the pub’s parking bay as I debated whether to close my eyes or not.
‘The wife wants to go walking over near Allendale,’ I muttered, letting them flicker shut.
‘You don’t sound keen.’ Laura wasn’t a big fan of silence. My nap time was looking dodgy. I compromised and opened one eye.
‘It’s not exactly the way I like to celebrate good news. And I get enough exercise on the job. Don’t need any more at the weekends. Not while there’s footy on the box anyway. What about you?’
She laughed again. ‘Park Run on the Town Moor tomorrow and a wild swim over near Haltwhistle on Sunday.’
‘Makes me tired just thinking about it.’ I yawned. She didn’t take the hint.
‘When you still live with your parents it’s best to get out of the house occasionally.’
‘You know there are pubs in Newcastle, don’t you? I could give you a list.’
‘I’m sure you could, but I’ll pass, thanks. I want to keep my looks.’
‘Not like me, eh?’
‘If the mask fits…’
I laughed. I knew fine well I was no oil painting. I used to be presentable but time had taken its toll. Though maybe it was relative? I was surrounded by young, super-fit detectives which kept me on my toes but sometimes the comparison made me feel old and haggard. Or perhaps I was just old and haggard.
‘Whatever happened to work hard, play hard?’ I said.
‘It became play hard, die young—’
‘—but with a smile on your face!’
Not for the first time I finished her sentence. Laura was my favourite DS though I tried my best to keep it hidden from the others. With one notable exception I’d put together a great squad so overt favouritism was a big no-no. I think they all knew though. Maybe it was because she came from similar stock as I did – working-class, East End, good people – and had undoubtedly had to fight for everything she’d got. And she was bloody good at the job. She was a shoo-in for the next DI vacancy, which I hoped would be coming up soon given the obvious shortcomings of the current incumbent.
I’d never really had a sidekick before – there had been plenty of competent detectives on the murder squad in the past but never a chemistry like ours, despite our age difference. Even Helen liked Laura, and she was choosy about her friends.
We slowed a little and I felt my eyes closing. Then something smashed into the side of the car. Laura’s side.
My head smacked against the window and bounced back again as the Audi slammed into a wall to my left, my skull cracking against Laura’s somewhere above the gear stick. A blinding pain forced my eyes shut again and for a second I thought my lights were going out but I gritted my teeth and slowly the pain subsided. I opened them again. My side of the car was relatively undamaged but jammed tight against the wall. Laura was less fortunate. She was squeezed right up against me, covered in small pieces of glass from the shattered right-hand window, her side of the car almost completely caved in from the collision. The other car had lost its windscreen but the driver was hidden by the airbag until he took off his seat belt, threw open the driver’s door and legged it down the road.
I watched him go, trying to file a description in my head – slim build, black jumper, dark jeans, a red baseball cap – but the pain was making it hard to think, so I turned my attention back to Laura. She was out cold, whether from the initial impact or our heads cracking I wasn’t sure. Blood trickled from her left ear.
I tried to wriggle out of my seat belt but the crash had jammed the release mechanism. Despite the pain in my shoulder I reached across with my left arm but she was slumped like a rag doll and her neck didn’t look right. I thought about shaking her but didn’t dare in case it made things worse.
‘Laura,’ I said, then louder, ‘LAURA!’ Not a flicker. She didn’t move. Not until the fire brigade arrived and cut us out of the car, sending me to the hospital and Laura to the mortuary.
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