CHAPTER 56
I did get a look at my BGB later, or at least photos of it, courtesy of Dai Gould, and it was a frightening sight. I couldn’t help thinking what would have happened if the burning fuel had landed on my back rather than the bag, and realised how Barry must have burned his hands.

“Fuck, Dai! Just, well, fuck!”

“No argument from me, girl. Still a miss, though”

“Tell that to the back of my neck, butt”

“How’s that feeling?”

“Itchy. If I lift my hand there, though, I get told off for scratching”

“Aye. I hear you’ve moved on, Jen”

I felt my face heat, and he shook his head.

“Not a criticism, love. I know her well, aye, Scott loves her, and you’re well-suited. I’m happy for you, nothing else. Anyway, that’s sort of one of the reasons I’m here”

“Eh?”

“It’s Barry, really, but he has to keep his distance till that trial’s done and dusted. His Mam”

“What about her?”

“Right… Confidential stuff, aye? Barry’s Dad went years ago, but his Mam, well, she’s had to go into a home. Alzheimer’s, aye? She has a house, three bed, out to Cathays”

“And?”

“Sometimes, Jen, you can be so bloody eloquent. ‘And’, she’s in a care home, and the house I’m on about was the old family home, so Barry doesn’t want to sell it, mainly because his… because what’s left of his Mam would throw a wobbly. He knows about you two, and we know about your landlady. He’s looking to offer a deal. I mean, this isn’t a bad flat, but you could do with a bit more room, no?”

“And what makes you think that?”

He grinned.

“A certain district nurse with a direct manner, love”

His smile softened.

“I just wish I had a mother-in-law that solid”

“Issues?”

“Oh, a few, mostly over Scott. Bit traditional, she is”

“Aye, my own parents are the same. Can’t get my head round how Hira is”

“Just treat her as one of a kind, Jen”

“How is Scott?”

“Oh, god, he was in such a shit state when Omar went missing. Blamed himself, and then Omar was the same, all his fault, aye? Stupid argument, silliest of subjects”

“What was it about?”

“You won’t believe this, but ‘Pobol y Cwm’. They nearly split up over a soap opera”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

“Omar’s all Cymraeg, aye? Scott’s bitten the bullet now, trying to learn, but he got fed up with Omar watching stuff he couldn’t understand, so they fell out. Bloody drama queens, the pair of them”

“Er, Dai: you might want to rephrase that?”

“What? Oh. Yeah. Anyway, Barry. He wants to wait after the trial, so there’s no questions about collusion, then you can talk rent, the three of you”

“What’s his missus say?”

“Divorced, Jen. She’s in Bridgend, with an Inspector they both worked under”

“Oh dear”

“Aye, that. Anyway, how are you in yourself, woman?”

“Itchy burns driving me up the wall”

“I didn’t mean that, I’m talking about how you feel. Tom says you’ve heard about Adam Price, and that’s where my thoughts are going. I suspect you are a fair bit stronger than that lad, though, but we all have our stress bucket”

“You are a Mental Health First Aider and I claim my five pounds!”

“Yes, I am. Did my stint in Traffic, so I know the score, but there’s plenty of crap in Response as well. Remember that scaffolding one?”

“Fuck, aye!”

“Well, we are likely to be running into each other again, goes with the job, aye? So if we’re working together, and you need a moment, just let me know. I’ve said the same to Tom. Nobody was there for Adam till it was too late”

“Not what I heard from Sammy Patel”

“Aye, Jen. That was his team covering his back, stopping a bit of, er, creative management, but nobody covered his stress. We’re changing a bit now, thankfully; less of the ‘get pissed and get over it’ culture”

“Dai… what was it, with that Adam?”

“Well, loads of incidents. Those two you know about, they were just that, just two. He had three suicides, two of them by shotgun. Bikes are quicker than cars, so they’re often first on scene, and that was Adam”

“Our big boss said something about a body on a motorway”

His face clenched, and he turned to stare out of the window for a few seconds.

“It was a murder, Jen. Gang of men. A trans woman went to the wrong pub, wrong time, and they beat the shit out of her and then threw her off a bridge onto the middle lane of the main London-Brighton motorway. Adam had to pick up what was left of her. That… when you found Omar, that’s what I was seeing in my mind’s eye. That’s what broke Adam, aye? So, changing the subject forcibly, as said, what answer do I give Barry?”

“I don’t know, Dai. It’s very tempting, but, well, Amina and I have said a few things to each other”

“She loves you, Jen. Simple as that”

“Yeah, and I am not making decisions about her without asking her, aye?”

“Was the right answer! Barry’s in no hurry, so I’ll let him know it’s a provisional yes, and then we can arrange what the estate agents call a viewing. That suit?”

“It does”

“Then here’s the address; see if it suits work travel, and give Amina my best. I have a shift to start; thanks for the tea”

“Any time, butt”

“And the same back. You need me, you shout”

I saw him off, then went to change for my own shift, thinking his words over, and realising that whatever horror had confronted Adam Price had also been waiting for another ambulance crew. Poor sods.

Back out onto the mean streets, Tom’s face now rather more crinkly than it had been as the cuts healed, but a byproduct of that healing was that he could now smile again without wincing. It was a quiet evening, thank god, and we spent more time than usual sitting in the cabas the afternoon passed. Finally, Tom put down his e-reader with a sigh.

“What’s she packed for you today, Jen?”

“Nothing; off to work early”

“Fancy being naughty?”

“In what way?”

“Gemma Cakes”

“Ooh yeah! Could just eat another of those strawberry things”

“Not a creamy horn, just the fruity tart?”

“Cheeky sod!”

“You getting anything to take back for the other fruity tart?”

“Sellers, you are getting worse”

“Buckle up, then”

We were soon parking up outside Elmer’s, Tom looking wistfully at the all-day breakfast menu, but I shoved him towards the bakery, as he had suggested. He could give the lard another miss and help his health.

The bell rang as he opened the door, the tall man, Frank, on his own with a queue of about eight people waiting as he did their sandwich orders, adding a pastry or two to most of them. Gemma was visible in the kitchen, and as I watched her move, I realised she was singing as she worked. Such a change from that hunched figure in a dark doorway.

Frank recognised us, a grin splitting his face.

“Hiya, you two. Sandwiches or pastries? You after the all-day brekky again, Tom? We don’t do that anymore”

“Why not? That’s a classic sandwich, that!”

“Relax; we just changed the name. Gem’s idea, when I told her what a sandwich is in Welsh, so I can’t do you an ADB, but I can offer a brekkydan”

I couldn’t hold back my laughter.

“That, butt, was awful!”

“Blame the cook, love. She wants all the sandwich ingredients labelled in both languages as well, which is easy, but then she asked for silly names for her own stuff, and that’s a never-ending job, cause she’s always adding new stuff. So: brekkydan for you, Tom? Jen?”

“That seafood mix with salad, in a baguette?”

“Cakes?”

“Has Gemma got any of those strawberry tart things?”

“GEM!”

She stuck her head through the arch, flour on her hands and cheek.

“Hiya!”

“Jen’s after your tarts”

“Strawberry?”

“Yup”

“Just finishing a batch. One, Jen?”

“Nope. Three please”

I got sharp looks from all of them, but I held my tongue, as Tom asked for a cream slice, and then I almost heard the penny drop.

“Make that three of those, please”

Once it was all bagged up and paid for, he grinned at Frank again.

“Once our wives find out about this, they’ll be round right regular, so samples for home tonight, aye?”

Gemma looked puzzled.

“But three?”

“Aye. I don’t think either of us’ll be telling them about the first one”

We said our goodbyes, and climbed back into the wagon.

“Tom?”

“Aye?”

“Could we do a little detour? I’ve, we’ve had the offer of another property; be nice to do a drive by it, if you don’t mind. It’s not far from here”

It was, in fact, just round the corner, a small terraced house looking rather like child’s drawing: two windows upstairs, one plus a door on the ground floor.

“Most of these have got extensions out the back, Jen, to fit a bathroom in. They’re bigger than they look. Anyway, seems in good repair. Not going in?”

“Not today, butt. Shall we park up by the big Tesco?”

I talked him through Dai’s message as he drove, but we never got as far as the supermarket, as a call came in for a fall at a care home out at Llandaff.

Thankfully, the old woman hadn’t fractured anything, but her blood pressure was bloody low, as was her oxygen level. I put her on an air line before doing a quick ECG check, which was bloody erratic, and then Tom ran us to St Dai’s and a waiting cardiac team. No more issues, and when I checked a few days later, they were getting her ready to fit a pacemaker.

One more bit of welcome good news. I shared it with Amina in bed that night, along with the remaining fruity tarts.

“Ooh, this is NICE!”

“Girl called Gemma, love. She’s very good at the pastry stuff”

“But you had one at work before this one, though”

“Sorry?”

“It left marks in the bag, Jen. That bag held three tarts, ergo you had another one earlier. QED”

“Guilty, but I still brought one back home for you”

“As well as a second for yourself. You should have bought me two as well”

“Then I’d be sitting here watching you demolish another after mine’s gone”

“No you wouldn’t, cause I’d have cut it in half so we could share”

“Amina, that makes no sense at all”

“Don’t care. Now, tell me more about this house…”