It was well after lunchtime when we were escorted to Agnes’ in a police car. I insisted that someone go in with Agnes and check the house out.
‘I’ll be fine,’ she said.
‘Your phone’s cut off,’ I said. ‘Your door was open half the night, anyone could have been in.’
‘It’s best we check it out, madam,’ said the driver, and he and his partner got out.
‘I’ll ring BT,’ I said, ‘order a repair.’
‘No,’ she objected.
‘It’s no trouble.’
‘Sal, I’m perfectly capable of going next door to use my neighbour’s phone to do that. I don’t need looking after,’ she admonished me.
‘Sorry.’ I made a note of the neighbour’s number in case I needed to contact Agnes and the police did the same when they returned and pronounced the house secure. She watched us go from the doorstep. I turned to keep her in view as long as possible. I had an urge to run back and stay with her. Agnes and I, we’d been somewhere terrible together; no one else could ever really know what it had been like. And we’d survived. I took a deep breath and sat back in my seat.
Digger was inordinately pleased to see me. Made me feel guilty as hell seeing I have so little regard for the animal. Still, unrequited love doesn’t seem to faze him.
Ray paled when he saw me and he fussed round me until I gave him something to do. ‘Ray, please, I want a pot of tea, strong. And porridge, loads, with golden syrup.’
‘I know how you take your tea,’ he retorted.
He’d contacted the police when I’d failed to return. The police had found my car but had not got any further in their efforts to find me.
Sheila arrived back from lectures as I was eating the first mouthful. ‘Oh, you poor thing. Is it broken?’
‘No, just bruised.’
‘You’ve got black eyes.’
‘No,’ said Ray, ‘more like purple. Prettier than last time.’ He put down my tea, pulled out a chair.
‘Has this happened before?’ Sheila was aghast.
‘No,’ I said. ‘Yes,’ said Ray.
‘That was a gun,’ I said, ‘this was a fist.’
‘You were hurt,’ he raised his voice, ‘you were hurt then and you’re hurt now.’
‘I know. Don’t shout at me. I don’t like being hurt, I don’t try to get hurt. It frightens me too.’
For a beat or two the unspoken argument hung in the air. We’d been through it before. Ray would never like the risks the job brought with it and would never understand why I persisted in it. But I loved my work. In spite of the bad breaks and the dull days there was nothing else I could imagine being halfway happy doing.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘Let’s have it.’
‘What?’ I swallowed a mouthful of tea, then another. Bliss.