In fact her lease on the flat would run out in a few months, so the decision might be forced on her, she supposed. It would hardly be a wrench. She had taken the flat furnished, so her entire possessions could be packed in a suitcase and a few cardboard boxes.
Her old colleagues in E Division had often asked her why she didn’t find somewhere better. She could have afforded it on a detective sergeant’s salary, of course. She might have put down a deposit on a small house somewhere and tied herself to a mortgage. But tying herself down didn’t feature in her planning for the future, not in any way. Yes, there was money in the bank — but she had other purposes in mind for that.
Fry switched on the TV and left a quiz show babbling to itself while she found a frozen pizza and slid it into the microwave. She never had much appetite when she was in the middle of a case. Her biggest problem was turning off her mind, which tended to keep ticking away, turning over and over the events of the day.
She knew she wouldn’t get much rest tonight, not even with the help of her sleeping aids. A promethazine hydrochloride tablet would only give her a few minutes of disturbing dreams before she woke up feeling dry-mouthed and groggy. She suspected she’d been taking the tablets for much too long now for them to have any effect.
She’d always thought of her older sister Angie as the addictive personality of the family. But at least Angie had cleaned herself up and escaped the heroin. Now she was back in Birmingham, working in a vintage clothes shop, still refusing to talk about some of the things she’d been doing in these past few years.
Fry felt envious of her sister sometimes. She would love to be able to disappear for a while, then come back, start a whole new life and never feel she had to talk about her time in Derbyshire.
It was funny, though, how things worked out. No matter what she did, certain aspects of Derbyshire seemed determined to keep coming back to haunt her. Deep down, Fry knew that she would never be allowed to escape completely.
‘Well, it arrived,’ said Gavin Murfin next morning. He had his feet up on his desk, ready to soak up any attention like a basking seal.
Cooper stopped halfway into the CID room, with his leather jacket still hung over one shoulder. He really wasn’t in the mood for Murfin this morning.
‘What arrived, Gavin?’
Murfin held up a box. ‘My OBE. Special delivery by a bad-tempered bloke on a pushbike. He was disguised as our usual postman, but I reckon he must have been a royal equerry at least. I’m sure there was a corgi peeking out of his bag when he rode away.’
‘Oh, it’s your DJ medal. Damn, I haven’t got mine yet.’
That made Murfin beam. ‘Priorities, mate. Someone has to get it first. So Maj chose those of us with the longest and most distinguished service, like.’
‘That could be it, I suppose.’
‘I’ll let you have a look, though.’
‘Cheers.’
Cooper cradled the box carefully. The medal bore an image of Queen Elizabeth II on one side, looking a bit severe, with the inscription
They were all due to get their medals to celebrate the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee. They were being presented to the armed forces, emergency services and prison service staff, as well as community support officers who had completed five full years of service in February.
With that thought, Cooper’s eyes were drawn across the room to where Becky Hurst sat. Not everyone in the office would receive the medal. Hurst hadn’t quite completed five years. She’d moved rapidly into CID from a spell as a response officer in C Division, which was a testament to her ability. But she missed out on the qualifying date for the Diamond Jubilee medal by a week or two. He knew that it bugged her, especially when medals were being handed out to PCSOs and even to Specials, the unpaid volunteers who turned out at weekends to help at major events.
‘Nice,’ said Cooper. ‘Take it home with you, Gavin.’
‘But I thought-’
‘No. Take it home.’
Murfin looked at him, and for once he didn’t object or make a sarcastic comment.
‘Okay, boss.’
It was going to be hard to avoid the subject altogether during the next few weeks, as other officers received their medals. Murfin was the first, but all the medals were due to be awarded in the first half of the year. The Diamond Jubilee celebrations themselves would take place at the beginning of June. They had even moved the Spring Bank Holiday from the last Monday in May to coincide with the anniversary.
Cooper took off his jacket and sat down at his desk, feeling that he was always skating on thin ice in some way, whatever he did. Here in the office, when he was at Bridge End Farm, when he was with Liz … Was this what life was going to be like from now on?
‘So tell us, Gavin,’ said Cooper, ‘what did Diane Fry do yesterday?’