‘DI Drake, I presume?’
Alex smiled, recognizing the soft northern tone from her tapes. ‘DCI Tyler,’ she acknowledged.
‘DI’ll do,’ the man said, coming to rest at the bar beside her. ‘Never quite made it back up to DCI with the Guv ably occupying the spot. Thought it was about time you and I had a little chat.’
He watched her gaze drop back to her wineglass, her eyes shadowed.
‘Did you know?’ she asked quietly. ‘About… him.’
He shook his head. ‘Not everything. Obviously I knew about myself,’ he went on. ‘Difficult not to, after a leap of faith like that.’
‘Is that what that was?’ she wondered aloud.
He offered her a slight smile. ‘Wise man once told me that when you can feel you know you’re alive.’ He paused, then continued, ‘Started to put together bits and pieces about the Guv in about ’79. Visited Farringfield. Couldn’t tell him, of course.’
‘So you left.’
‘It was time,’ he said, taking a sip from his pint.
‘How did you know?’
‘You just know, I s’pose. Annie was ready. It was time,’ he repeated, nodding. He regarded her seriously for a moment. ‘Didn’t you?’
She glanced down and away. ‘I didn’t exactly choose this.’ The words were spoken quietly, with no hint of emotion.
Sam watched her a moment, wondering at her meaning. ‘I’m sorry about Molly, Alex.’
She looked up, offering him a tight smile. ‘She’ll be ok. She has Evan, her godfather. He brought me up. She’ll be ok.’
He smiled back at her and she took a sip of her wine. When she returned her attention to him, he was looking at her thoughtfully. ‘What?’
‘Nothin’,’ he said, raising his pint glass and taking a long sip.
‘No, what?’ she demanded.
‘It’s just… all of heaven’s out there, but you hardly ever stray from the copper’s entrance.’
‘Well… we’re all in here every night. You’ve been in most nights,’ she said defensively.
‘Most nights, yeah. But not every night. And not the rest of the day. Even Ray’s got something going on out there,’ he waved at the doors. The ones you could pass back and forth between as many times as you liked. ‘It’s hard to tell here but I reckon it’s been a week. Maybe two. But you don’t leave, do you, Alex?’ he finished softly.
‘I can’t,’ she admitted. ‘I’m not ready.’
‘He has a job to do, Alex. He’ll come when he’s ready.’
‘And what do I do ‘til then, Sam?’ she asked, desperation creeping into her voice. ‘Sit here staring at the door waiting for Gene bloody Hunt?’
She hadn’t raised her voice, not really, yet the pub fell silent at her words. The name thundering around the room as though she’d screamed it.
