She finally allowed herself to think about her kids, about them waiting for her at home. And then of Ann-Marie’s home: the little girl would never come in the door again, never giggle at the telly or complain about her food or sing. It was that that undid her. She cried noisily and messily until she felt cleansed.
When she came out to wash her face, her nose was swollen and red, her face puffy. She splashed cold water over it repeatedly then patted it dry and brushed her hair.
She saw the custody sergeant and promised him a full written statement for the morning. ‘I really need to get home now, Geoff,’ she croaked.
‘You go. No problem.’
Richard was in the incident room. She leaned on the door frame and gave him a wave.
‘Hey,’ he said softly, ‘nice one.’
She bit her lip, keeping control. ‘I’m off. If you need me…’
‘I know where you are, he said.
‘How’d you find us?’ the thought struck her.
‘We’d an all points alert out. An unmarked patrol saw you leaving Royle Green Road. They called in your location when you went into the fields.’
‘Who’s doing the interview?’
‘I am.’
She gave him a summary of what Stone had told her.
‘Think he’s telling the truth?’
She exhaled noisily, shaking her head. ‘Ask me tomorrow.’
Pete didn’t say a word when she walked in. Just hugged her, held her close. Even that hurt, made her bloody eyes water. Thoughts of how many years that hug had been hers alone, well – hers and the kids. Pre-Tina. His body so familiar. She knew him so well but then maybe she hadn’t known him at all. Certainly not well enough to realise he was being unfaithful. She pulled away.
Pete poured her a generous brandy, handed it to her.
She took a mouthful, the taste reminding her of Christmas. She savoured the warmth in her mouth before letting it slide down her throat.
‘The kids?’
‘Just think you’re working late.’
She nodded, relieved that she wouldn’t have to reassure them. Deal with their own fear as well as her own.
‘How did he get in the car?’ Pete asked.
She exhaled. ‘He’s a professional car thief, among other things. He could get into anything.’
Pete shook his head, his tongue balled into the corner of his mouth. ‘Pete, I’m all right.’
He nodded ruefully. ‘I want to know what happened, all of it.’
She told him. It helped to recount it, to go over each memory: the moment in the car park when she’d felt the chill of metal on her neck, the visceral threat of Stone’s violence, the horrendously loud retort of the gun going off and a split-second when she thought he had shot her; that she’d die in the car, on wasteland; that she wouldn’t hold Charlotte again or see Michael or the others, that they’d have to grow up without her; the panic of the posse arriving, just as she thought she had defused the situation; Stone’s explosion of rage and her frantic attempts to stop Richard and the others, to save herself. Then the worst part really, when she knew that she had survived it, when she was no longer acting purely on instinct and the need to hold it all together, when she could finally let go and release all the emotions, the bright anger that made her teeth ache, the bowel-churning terror that scuttled across her skin and through her veins, the sorrow at what she had endured and the huge need to be comforted, to be loved and cherished. To be safe and to celebrate life in all its precious fragility.
