Wolf Iron

Chapter 14 / Four Nan

Claire Chang had just decided that there was absolutely nothing wrong with a divorced woman  reading corny airport romance novels and that anyone who had a problem with that could just bugger off. 

She sat at her desk at the Almskirk Police Station and thumbed through the last page of Chapter 12 of Paradise Bound. 

But Thomas I, Ms. Florence Addington, I do fear I love you. I love you, Thomas Oliver. As far as the oceans sink and the sky soar, I do love you, Thomas Oliver. 

What a load of shit, Claire thought. 

What good is her sky going to do when Thomas gets bored and starts frequenting mens' baths on the other side of town? What is she gonna do when she finds out that Thomas, after a period of 15 years of marriage, has been cheating on her with his own best mate? Just what in the hell is Ms. Florence to do when, even after moving to a completely new city to repair her broken marriage, Thomas still leaves with said best mate to start a new life in Greenwich?

Claire snorted and helped herself to a bowl of stale prawn chips.

Ugh, I hate these damn chips so much.

"Alright, luv?" 

A chubby man with an uneven hairline threw his peaked police cap down and took a seat at the desk next to Claire's. 

"Hmm." Claire acknowledged her partner of the past two years. "Alright, Fletcher."

The man made to turn back to his desk but then leaned back and loosened his belt strap a touch. 

"Claire, why don't you ever call me by me first name? We've been partners for almost two years now. I don't call you Chang." 

"Because your name is Nick. Fletcher. Not even Nicholas, just Nick. Only idiots are named Nick."

"Idjits and perverts." Nick smiled and threw his hands behind his head. "Do you remember that pervert we booked last week for locking himself up in the bog of the pub? He said he had leprosy or I don't know what. On second thought, I think his name might have been Nico or something. Is that Italian or is it Greek? Sometimes, you really can't tell with them Mediterranean types, do you know what I mean? But then again, if we're talking about perverts, it's probably Italian. And if it's idjits, then it has to be Greek, innit?"

Claire opened a drawer in her desk and quickly popped an ibuprofen.

"Speaking of which-" Nick snapped and brought out a plastic bag- "I brought gyros. With four nans, Claire. Interested?" 

"No, Fletcher. Thank you."

Nick stabbed at his rice and curry and nodded his head emphatically.

"How is uh... how is Rodney then?" Nick smiled again. "How is the youf?" 

"Yeah..." Claire exhaled and put her book down. "Rodney is good, thank you. He doesn't tell his mum much but he's... well he's 15 years old so there's that." 

Takes after his father in that sense. That kind of brooding Oriental quiet. But the sarcasm was definitely from her.

"Attention, everybody please." 

Claire put her book down and saw Sgt. Eckhart  come out of his office and address everyone as he was want to do with a folder in both hands. 

"If you'd please put your supper away, Fletcher," he said to Nick.

Sgt. Eckhart nodded. "Right. We've got another nasty turn down at the construction site down at Valry Thicket. Looks like vandalism."

"What, again?" asked Officer George, from behind Claire as the heads in the room turned to him. "It's only the third bloody time this month."