CHAPTER 55
Amina simply hugged me tightly, before whispering, “I can smell tour hair, love. Connie picked me up. Time to go home. This… not on your own, aye?”

I squeezed her back, saying nothing, because I now realised how right she was. Eventually, Tom and I were tugged outside to his and Connie’s car, and they ran Amina and me home. Very, very few words; it took me a long while to get to sleep, even after Amina wrapped my dressings in clingfilm and shampooed my hair.

Once what was left of my hair was mostly dry, we had gone straight to bed, where I lay on my side as she spooned me, and I waited for the dawn. We had a late breakfast, and as I was partway through my second cup of tea, the doorbell rang. Amina was straight to her feet.

“Stay there; I’ll go”

She returned with a flustered-looking Angie, so I waved at a spare chair.

“Cuppa?”

“Would be good, ta”

Amina brought over a new mug and poured, as Angie looked round the kitchen.

“Boss sent me over, love. Bit concerned, they were. Message is that you don’t come in till at least the next run of shifts—eight days, aye? I’ve got some stuff in the car from your wagon”

“Like what?”

“The flasks, for starters”

“Ah”

“Yeah, and the other reason is, well…”

She cast a quick glance at Amina before continuing.

“You are listed as living on your own, and you had two shitty jobs, two days running, so they wanted to make sure you were okay, looked after like. I’m guessing you’re sorted on that front”

I nodded.

“Amina, this is Angie, one of my first crewmates here. Angie, Amina’s… Amina’s my other half. Early days, aye, but, well, old friends before”

“I get that. Oh, and we’ve also been asked to give you the heads-up by the Plod. Looks like that driver is going for a full-on contested trial, so they want a statement from you. You can do it here, or down the nick, but they wanted you to know. Let me know which suits better, and I’ll let the boss know, and he’ll pass it on”

I took another look at Amina, and she patted my hand.

“She’s staying in for the next few days, Angie. Let those burns heal a bit. Coppers can come here, and yes, I am making the decisions just now because I am not the patient here”

Angie laughed, much more happily.

“I’ll let them know! Now, we need to sort this stuff out, which bits are yours, aye? I’m off round to see Tom after”

“Shit. How’s his face? That was a lot of glass”

“I spoke to the Casualty team, and they were happy. He’s a lucky boy, that Thomas. Oh, they’ve recovered that fuel cap—we’re going to have it mounted for the locker room”

She was off, and to no surprise on my part whatsoever, half an hour later we had Bryn sitting at our table with a folder of papers.

“How are you doing, Jen?”

“Me? Fine, ish. Barry?”

“Oh, blisters mostly. He’s more upset about ruining his new jacket, but when you see the state of his bodycam, fuck! Now, I thought you were with that barmaid, Amina?”

“How did you know that?”

“Ah, mate goes to that pub you like, and then you were at…”

He caught himself, then started again, but his voice now without the bantering tone and much softer.

“I was going to say the funeral, Jen. Sorry. Anyway, business. Our driver has… I am going to have to be careful here, as I mustn’t be seen to have prompted you. I will ask some specific questions, but the statement has to be from you, and only you”

“What’s he saying?”

“Can’t tell you”

We settled down, and he led me through my statement, which took over an hour, and then I signed and ticked a number of boxes on the back.

“Bryn?”

“Yeah?”

“It says ‘Have you ever been known by any other name?’, and I added one recently”

“Just write in your full old name as well, then. Just to be sure”

He was off with the statement, while I sat worrying about what I might have done wrong. Amina made another pot of tea, sitting down opposite me.

“You’re not in any frame, love. What’s he been charged with?”

“I assume a load of driving stuff. I was a bit busy to take notes”

“Right… Just a guess, love, but I think he’s going to claim he wasn’t the driver”

“But he can’t! We pulled him out of that seat, me and Barry”

“Yeah, but did you notice how Bryn got you to describe him, what he was wearing and that?”

“You’re right…”

“I usually am, love”

“Cheeky!”

“You love it”

I thought for a few seconds, but they were warm thoughts, and so I smiled at her.

“Yeah, I do. Pity we can’t go swimming again”

“You just want me in that cossie again. Anyway, you are not going out that door until those burns look better, end of discussion”

“And you are qualified to judge that?”

“Nope, but I have a mother who is”

Fair point. As things turned out, Hira stopped by every two days, until, the day before I started the next run of shifts, she declared herself satisfied, although she did provide me with one of those Buff tube things to protect the healing skin from collar chafing. By then, of course, my days had become solitary ones, for Amina’s job had started, and it was me playing domestic skivvy while she rocked the suit-and-briefcase look.

The burns itched horribly for a while.

Tom’s humour seemed to be back, thank god, and once again, Central pulled us off response work for mundane transport duties. To my surprise, on our third day of that, we were asked to pop into the HQ and Be Seen by the Trust’s HR manager, Mr Collins. Once again, I found myself rerunning my memories, trying to work out what I had done wrong. When he took us to a lounge, where there was a proper service of tea and biscuits, I felt less uneasy.

“Jennifer, Tom, thank you for coming. This has been waiting a little while. Now, we have two more to join us, one of whom is Dame Ffiona”

Shit! Only the head of the Trust. My tongue locked, but Tom’s was still limber.

“And the other, sir?”

“A photographer, Tom. You are each to receive a commendation, as simple as that. We propose to put a suitable picture onto the Trust’s intranet, if that suits. Why the face, Jennifer?”

“Sorry, sir, but I’ve been racking my brains trying to work out what I did wrong, and this, well, a bit the other way!”

“Very much the other way, Ms Bradley, very much. Ah; here they are. Morning Dame Ffiona”

She was in one of those heavy wool suits that look absolutely rubbish but you know will have cost more money than your entire worldly goods, but she was smiling, a man in a tabard waiting behind her.

“Jennifer Bradley and Thomas Sellers, I presume? Do sit. Do you have the items, Patrick?”

“Yes, Ma’am”

“Well, we shall take tea first. I haven’t prepared a speech or anything, but a chat will be a pleasure”

We settled into chairs as ‘Patrick’ poured the tea, and then she looked hard at me.

“You, both of you, but you in particular, Jennifer, have been dealt some brutal cards recently. I am speaking of the dead child on Pontarddulais Road, for one. I am aware of the particularly distressing case in Splott—a tissue please, Patrick. No shame, Jennifer, no shame at all”

She was patient as I brought myself back from an edge I didn’t to step off in such company, and when I nodded, she smiled softly before continuing.

“The recent car fire needs no revisiting, and then you had that rather non-acrobatic cat burglar. A heavy load in a short time. Those are salient points; I will not use the word ‘highlights’. Both of you have shown uncommon bravery, as well as devotion to duty, and I am aware of the attack on you at the recent inquest, Jennifer, just as I am aware of the attack on a traffic policeman that your testimony stopped dead. I will NOT play the blame game, nor permit others to do so. Oh; you will not be aware of it, but that Officer is now a sergeant, and thankfully, for the sake of his sanity, is no longer doing response work”

“May I ask what happened, Ma’am?”

She grimaced.

“My sources tell me it was one more utterly awful case involving body recovery, from a motorway. I do not wish to see my own staff fold that way, which is why you have been on lighter duties recently. Tom, a personal word to you. It applies to both of you, but I seem to have been addressing Jennifer alone, thus far. The reports that have crossed my desk refer to a sort of Schroedinger’s partnership, in that you work together and separately at the same time. You split up to cover as much ground as possible, but each of you seems to know where the other is at need. A rare but desirable quality, that. So, we have—Patrick?”

He produced two thickly padded envelopes, each producing a framed commendation certificate. We did the poses together and separately, the photographer doing his job, and by then both the senior brass were checking their watches, Dame Ffiona swept out, without the snapper, while Patrick saw us to the exit for a last handshake.

“Jennifer?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Make sure your arse is covered when that trial comes round. Please”