Thicker Than Water (34 page)

‘When the gun went off, there was an enormous noise but I was further away and it wasn’t pointing at me. Dave stumbled backwards and fell over a table. At first I thought he’d
been shot because of the way he went down. It was only afterwards I realised he’d jumped because of the bang.’

Rowlands threw his hands in the air. ‘He was pointing a gun at me, I thought I’d been shot!’

Although he had a point, it didn’t stop Izzy giggling. ‘Aww, did the big bang make poor Davey Wavey fall over,’ she teased.

‘How did you break your arm?’ Jessica asked.

The constable looked away, wanting to downplay things. ‘It was trapped between me and the table as I fell.’

Jessica met Izzy’s eyes and knew they were both thinking the same thing. The constable said it first. ‘So basically, you broke your arm because you’re a bit of a
fatty?’

Rowlands looked at Cole, annoyance on his face. ‘This is workplace bullying.’

The chief inspector nodded before breaking into a grin. ‘Noted, although as you are on injury leave and this isn’t our workplace, I’m not sure I can take any action . .
.’

Jessica was stifling a laugh but Izzy didn’t hold back, cackling so loudly the receptionist on the far side of the room shushed them.

‘Can we go for a walk?’ Jessica said quietly, standing and looking at Rowlands.

Izzy and the chief inspector took the hint and didn’t move, although Cole told her she would have to give a proper statement when she’d had some sleep. She knew that would only be
the start. Scott would now never be able to respond to their unanswered questions. She wondered what she would be able to tell Oliver’s parents for closure.

Rowlands stood gingerly, with Izzy smacking his backside and telling him to stop faking it. Jessica led him through a set of double doors, following the signs towards the cafe. Inside there were
half-a-dozen people sitting around tables. Although it was the early hours, Jessica could smell bacon as they approached the counter.

‘What do you want?’ she asked.

‘Are you buying?’

‘Yep, you can have whatever you want up to a maximum of four English pounds and fifty pence.’

The weary-looking server filled two bread rolls with bacon and although the bread was slightly stale and the meat overcooked, it was as good as anything Jessica could remember eating.

She sat opposite Rowlands but neither spoke as they ate. When she had finished, Jessica pushed back in her chair, watching Dave closely. It was impossible not to smile given the state of his
bandage.

‘What?’ he said, licking his fingers.

‘That’s ridiculous.’

Dave nodded, although he looked tired and his expression was serious. ‘What are we going to do?’

Jessica didn’t know how to phrase things, so instead spoke without thinking. ‘I love you too, just not like that. We’ve been mates for ages, we’ve done all sorts together
but I don’t see you in that way.’

‘I know.’

‘I’m in love with Adam.’

‘I know.’

‘But we can still be mates and have fun working together.’

‘We can’t go back to the way we were though, can we? I can’t un-say something.’

Jessica picked at a rogue piece of meat between her teeth. ‘I’m sure we’ll live, there’s no way I’m going to be able to look at that bandage and not take the
piss.’

Rowlands didn’t reply and Jessica realised she had gone too far. ‘You’ll be able to talk to someone,’ she added more softly.

‘I will if you will. He pointed the gun at you too.’

Jessica didn’t reply, standing and offering her arm to help him to his feet. ‘Come on, it’s bedtime.’

Rowlands smiled, heaving himself up. ‘You know what’s happening this weekend, don’t you?’

‘No.’

‘Hugo and Caroline are off camping. I think
she
thinks he knows what he’s doing. He’ll do what he always does and wing it. The last I heard, he’d bought this
pop-up tent from a charity shop for three quid.’

As they began walking towards the exit, Jessica laughed. ‘I think she’s had a fascination with him ever since he drew her on that napkin at her wedding. I lived with Caroline for
almost ten years and if there’s one thing she’s not suited to, it’s outdoor life. Let alone in a tent that cost under a fiver.’

‘I’ll tell you his side of the story if you share hers?’ Jessica held the door open for him, linking her hand through his good arm as they walked.

‘You’re on, DC Rowlands.’

Jessica sat opposite Cole peering around the walls of his office. The framed certificates and commendations were the same as ever but something felt different. The chief
inspector put his desk phone down and apologised before fixing her with a gaze she could only describe as fatherly. She wasn’t sure if she liked it.

‘It wasn’t your fault,’ he said gently.

‘It was.’

He leant back in his seat and put his hands behind his head, speaking firmly. ‘I hate to be the one to tell you this but things at this station don’t actually revolve around you.
Regardless of what your opinions were, if I didn’t agree, I wouldn’t have suggested anything to the superintendent. If he didn’t agree, it would have occurred
differently.’

‘What’s going to happen?’ Jessica asked.

‘We’ve got a few results back from the gun. They can’t be sure because it exploded but our people reckon it was old and hadn’t been looked after properly. They say
it’s incredibly rare but, if you don’t keep them clean, the bullet or cartridge can become blocked in the barrel. The pressure still has to go somewhere, so it explodes. A piece of the
barrel went through Scott’s skull, another just below his heart. You and Dave are lucky none of it came your way.’

‘What else?’

‘We’ve confirmed that Nicholas was Scott’s father and Kayleigh his mother.’

‘What about Oliver?’

The chief inspector shook his head sadly. ‘We’ll never know. He was probably in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

Jessica said nothing, although the silence seemed apt. There was no way she was going to let anyone else have the job of having to tell the teenager’s parents what had happened.

‘My wife and I are getting a divorce,’ the chief inspector said suddenly, his words quiet and deliberate. ‘We’ve told the kids but there’s a lot to sort out.
She’s going to have the house, with the children staying there, but then we don’t quite have the money for me to get anything too comfortable. It’s so complicated but I
don’t want to do anything that will make it harder for them.’

Jessica let his words sink in before replying. ‘I’m sure you’ve done it for the right reasons.’

‘It was my idea in the end.’

Jessica didn’t know what to say although she suspected he was telling her simply because he had no one else to talk to.

Before she could come up with something sympathetic, the chief inspector sat up more formally. ‘I’ve been talking to the chief superintendent this morning and we’d like you to
take Jason’s job as inspector now he’s officially told us he isn’t returning. We’ll have to do things through the right channels, obviously, but it will all be for
appearances. The job’s yours if you want it’.

As Jessica remained silent, he added: ‘You don’t have to tell us straight away’.

‘It was only a few days ago I messed up and nearly got Dave killed.’

‘I already said that wasn’t your fault but if it wasn’t for you, we would never have reached this point. We would simply have three unsolved killings on our files.’

Jessica didn’t want to argue. ‘I didn’t even apply,’ she said.

Cole shrugged dismissively. ‘Who else is there?’ After a pause, he added: ‘It’s a reasonable amount of extra money and fewer weekends.’

Neither of those factors influenced Jessica. ‘Can I let you know?’ she asked. ‘I’ve got two things I need to do first.’

Despite being on injury leave, Dave joined Jessica and Izzy in the pub around the corner from the station. His every movement was punctuated with an ‘ooh’ or an
‘aah’ but Izzy was having none of it.

‘You do know you weren’t actually shot, don’t you?’ she said.

‘I still broke my arm.’

‘Yes, but only because you eat too many pies. Stop whingeing and come back to work.’

Jessica sat quietly, thinking through the best way to phrase things. The other constables realised she wasn’t joining in, a clear sign something was up.

‘Are you okay?’ Izzy asked.

Jessica picked up her pint of lemonade, holding it in front of her face as a shield.

‘I’m not married,’ she said quietly. ‘I should have told you before.’

Izzy and Dave glanced at each other, confused.

‘But you did go to Vegas?’ Izzy said.

Jessica nodded, remembering. ‘We went there wanting to get married and we sort of did. We were checking out of the hotel at the end when a police officer stopped us and said they had
arrested the chapel owner because his licence had run out. Everything happened: the ceremony, the holiday, our wedding night . . . but it was taken away because he wasn’t legally allowed to
marry us. The officer said they’d arrested the guy – apparently it’s a scam that has been building out there, they take your money and by the time you know anything’s wrong,
your holiday is over. He said they’d help us find somewhere to get it done legally but we had to go. We’d already exchanged rings and got used to it. We’re married in every way
other than the one that matters – legally.’

For a moment, neither of the constables spoke. Eventually Dave broke the silence. ‘What are you going to do?’

Jessica knew they would have an understanding from now on. Things might not be exactly as they were before but they were both adults – and she still wanted to be his friend. She could feel
Izzy watching her, asking silently what she was going to do about the other thing.

‘We’ll probably talk about it tonight,’ Jessica added, answering both of their questions. ‘But first we’ve got something else to sort out.’

Jessica put the stick from the pregnancy test on the coffee table and sat next to Adam on the sofa. He snaked a protective arm around her.

‘Did you wee on that?’ he asked.

‘What else would I have done with it?’

‘I was just wondering who’s going to clean the pee-stain off the table.’

Jessica nestled her head on his shoulder, forcing him to hold her tightly. She could feel his heart beating quickly through his clothes.

‘So you finally told them what really happened in America,’ Adam said.

‘It took me long enough. I suppose I liked the idea that everyone thought I was married.’

‘What do you want to do about it? Shall we try again?’

Jessica wrapped her arms around him tightly, squeezing until he grunted. She didn’t answer, not knowing what she wanted. Jessica counted every beat of his heart, wondering how many times
it was going to pulse before the three minutes were up. Eventually, he tapped her gently on the shoulder, saying it was time.

Jessica released him but could feel her own heart pounding as she reached forward and picked up the stick, deliberately holding the indicator bar downwards.

‘Well?’ Adam asked.

‘Well what?’

‘What does it say?’

‘What do you want it to say?’

Adam grinned. ‘I’m not sure the world’s ready for another mini-you.’

Jessica smiled back. ‘But . . . ?’

‘. . . But, it would be pretty fun inflicting another you on everyone.’

Jessica took a deep breath and could feel her hand trembling. She knew her life could change based on what was on the other side of the stick. A lifetime of being scared of children had suddenly
been replaced by a surprising feeling of being comfortable with one of her own.

She pressed her thumb across the result and turned it over. ‘Are you ready?’

Adam grinned. ‘For you? Always.’

Afterword

If you’ve not finished the book then you should probably go back to wherever you were, because there are spoilers ahead.

I always say that, because I’m one of those people who flick to the end first. I don’t know what’s wrong with me: it’s like a disease.

Anyway, here’s a conversation:

Me (talking to my wife): ‘You know this book I’m writing? I kind of feel that to make it as authentic as possible I’m going to have to do a little more close-up research than
usual.’

My wife: ‘Okay . . .’

Me: ‘Large parts are set in a strip club, so I think I’m going to have to spend six or seven months undercover. I’ll probably need to visit two or three times a week just to
make sure I get the feel of it right.’

My wife: ‘Er . . .’

Hands up – how many people have ever had the above conversation?

No, me neither, but I’m sure it would have been interesting.

The idea for
Thicker than Water
came from various smaller ideas. A few years ago, I had a very minor operation on my leg to remove a piece of grit or something that had become caught
under the skin and created a lump. It was simple enough – in–out, go home and watch the telly. Except that it didn’t stop bleeding for three days.

With that, I started looking for reasons why it wouldn’t stop and stumbled across von Willebrand disease. On the third day, my cut healed itself and I’ve never had anything like that
since but something about the condition stuck with me.

Another aspect of the story is something I should now confess to. When I was at school, a kid I knew showed me how to get through a closed fire escape in much the same way as I describe in this
book. Our classroom used to be locked at lunchtimes but we would sneak in, move a few things around, sketch symbols on the board, and then leave. The key is to be subtle: small changes, nothing
big. Because the room was locked, no one ever figured out how it happened, with theories of ghosts and poltergeists abounding. Twenty-odd years later and it’s time to hold my hand up. It was
me and the other person who will remain nameless. Sorry. It was funny at the time though.

There are, as ever, a bunch of people to thank for getting the book to you. My agent, Nicola, of course. I’ve seen her little office with its wonderful view of a brick wall and a roof.
There’s a car park if you squint. It’s what dreams are made of but she whiles away there, haranguing people to make sure I can continue to write these things and that they get into your
hands in as good a state as possible.