‘That’s Elsie.’
‘How old is she?’
‘Seven. Lives with her mother. Not far away.’
But clearly too far away for Mark’s liking. Helen asked some more interested questions and Mark responded as only a proud parent can. A history of Elsie’s achievements and interests. Anecdotes about her idiosyncrasies and daftness. It was hard to listen to – his desolation at being apart from his daughter was so evident. A year back he was a successful copper, with a loving wife and a little angel who had eyes only for him. Now he’d lost everything to another man – his wife’s lover, Stephen. It was their affair which had ended the marriage and yet it was Mark who was out in the cold. He had been hurt – deeply, deeply hurt – by someone who had been cavalier about their marriage vows. She had ended up with the whole deal. He’d ended up with a rented flat and visits every other weekend.
Helen did her best to comfort him, but all the while a little voice inside her was telling her to leave. To get away from this guy who was obviously falling for her. Eventually, Mark calmed down. Thanking her for listening to his ramblings, he ran his hand across her cheek – a tender, wordless thank you. Then he tried to kiss her.
Helen found herself walking towards the front door. Mark ran after her, apologizing. As she opened the door to leave, he grabbed her arm, pulling her back. Helen spun away as if burned.
‘Please, Helen, if I’ve offended you…’ Mark stuttered.
‘Don’t beg, Mark. You’re better than that.’
‘I don’t understand what’s going on here.’
‘Nothing’s going on here.’
‘I thought that you and I… that we…’
‘You thought wrong. We had sex. That’s all.’
‘Am I being dumped?’
‘Don’t be so childish.’
‘Well, what then? I thought you liked me.’
Helen paused, trying to choose her words carefully.
‘Mark, I’m only going to say this once, so please listen. Do not fall in love with me, ok? I don’t want it and neither do you.’
‘But why?’
‘Just don’t.’
And with that Helen was gone. On the way down, she kicked herself for her foolishness. Her first instinct was right – she should never have come here.
Charlie Brooks yawned and stretched out her arms. Her joints cracked loudly – she’d been sat in the same position for too long. She made a decision to move around more frequently, to stretch, exercise… then promptly banged her head on the low metal roof.
Charlie hated surveillance. The enclosed space, the junk food diet and the proximity to male officers who either fancied her, had bad personal hygiene, or both. Sometimes it brought results, but one always had the sense that the fun, the real policing, was happening elsewhere. Couldn’t Helen have found some other monkey for this job? Her mood sank further as she looked across at DC Grounds, who was unselfconsciously picking a spot.