‘Yes, certainly, sir.’ She flushed as she looked at him. Something she hadn’t noticed previously was how blue his eyes were, and unlike most red-headed people, his eyelashes were incredibly dark.
‘Is there something else?’ he asked.
‘No, sir.’
Kath returned with a coffee and handing it to Bradfield told him there was a clean bin in his office but she’d need Dettol to sort out his carpet.
‘Thanks for the coffee,’ he said, and left the room.
Kath followed him out muttering under her breath, ‘Right, sir, every single DC’s done a runner which just leaves me, so I’ll go get an effing bucket and mop.’
Jane set to work on the time frame, as Bradfield had asked her to do. Kath eventually reappeared wearing yellow Marigold gloves and grinning.
‘Christ, now
‘I’m sorry, I should have helped you.’
‘Don’t be, all done and dusted and at least he didn’t crap everywhere… I wouldn’t clean that up for anybody. DS Gibbs is taking a shower – the kid puked over him and his pointy shoes.’
‘Not his winkle-pickers?’ Jane remarked, knowing how upset he’d be.
‘You want a laugh, come with me… come on.’
Jane smiled, put some carbon paper between two blank sheets of paper and popped them into the typewriter.
‘Come on, hurry up.’
Curious about what Kath was so eager to show her, Jane followed her out of the room.
‘By the way, Kath, I’m going to the continuation training centre tomorrow for that lecture by the forensic scientist, so I won’t be in.’
‘Ah pity. It’s one of the detectives’ thirtieth birthdays, so you’ll miss a big piss-up in the office. God, they can pack it away. Why don’t you pop in after CTC for a drink and get to know the team a bit better?’
They headed down the stone stairs to the basement, Kath leading the way.
‘I’ll see how I feel,’ Jane said.
‘Sometimes letting your hair down is good for releasin’ all the bloody tensions, Jane, but it’s up to you.’
Kath stopped outside the men’s locker room, inched the door open and leaned in.
‘Ah pity, I think we missed it.’
Jane was still confused as to why they were there.
Kath looked at her. ‘He was givin’ a rendition of Gerry and the Pacemakers before, you know he sings in this band… no, hang on… shush and listen.’
Jane was anxious to get back to finishing the time frame, but Kath waved her hands for her to be quiet. From the gents’ shower room wafted the unexpectedly clear voice of DS Gibbs loudly singing the Moody Blues song, ‘Nights In White Satin’:
Kath gave a gleeful shrug of her shoulders and whispered that when she could afford it she was going to buy one of those new small tape recorders. Gibbs continued singing:
‘Kath, I should get back to my desk,’ Jane said, turning to the stairs, but Kath grabbed her arm.
‘No, listen, listen… ’
Kath started mimicking Gibbs quietly in a sing-along, but the more she got carried away the louder her voice became. As Kath’s reached a crescendo Gibbs’s suddenly went silent and she sang solo on the next few lines:
Jane laughed when the disgruntled voice of Spencer Gibbs bellowed out, ‘Eh, who is that… is it you, Morgan?’
‘Sing that at my funeral, will you, Spence?’
‘Shut the fuck up, Kath.’
‘“’Cause I love youuuuu… Ohh how I love you…”’she finished.
Jane and Kath were holding back the laughter as the shower door opened and Gibbs stepped out with a towel wrapped around him. They both beat a hasty retreat hoping he hadn’t seen them, and Jane wondered if there was something going on between Gibbs and Kath – if so, they certainly kept it quiet.
At the end of her shift Jane left the typed time frame and interview notes on Bradfield’s desk and decided to go home.
On the bus she sat in her usual rear seat on the top deck and read through some of her study notes for next month’s probationary exam whilst listening to her radio, which helped divert her mind from the events of the last few days.
There were four teenagers screeching and laughing up at the front, and they began banging on the window when the bus stopped to let passengers on and off. She pushed the earpiece further in and looked down to the pavement to see a teenage boy mouth ‘Fuck off’ and give a two-fingers gesture to the kids on the bus. Jane shook her head and thought that in a poor area like Hackney they probably had nothing better to do.
