Good. Be good for the troops as well, she thought en route. A bit of solidarity when all eyes are upon us and people are muttering about competence and leadership and judgement.
How had it come to this? Butchers thought. It was a nightmare. The function room was half empty, a disco blaring out. His mates from the job clustered around the bar, even the Detective Super was here and the boss had just made her appearance. Kim and her gang were ensconced in a corner already totally canned and cackling like demons.
‘Next round’s on me,’ the boss said to them all, then told the bar tender, ‘I’ll have a double G & T. See what this lot want – and your own.’
Shap nudged Butchers and nodded towards Kim, ‘You want to get her name down for Wife Swap, mate,’ he said, ‘she’d be perfect.’
‘Piss off,’ Butchers told him though he had to admit Kim looked bigger, brassier than he remembered. But their brief courtship had been conducted through a haze of booze, tequila slammers and jagerbombs. The details were hazy.
‘So point her out then,’ the boss said.
‘The one in pink,’ Butchers could feel a blush spread through his face.
‘Nice,’ the boss said. Though it wasn’t a word Butchers would have picked.
Detective Superintendent Hogg raised her glass to him. ‘Congratulations, Ian.’
‘You not speaking then, you and your betrothed?’ Shap back on his case, ‘Had a tiff already?’
‘No,’ Butchers said. And then of course he had to go over there and say hello to prove it. What was he meant to do anyway, at a do like this? Sit with Kim or stay with his own guests? Crossing the dance floor as, I Don’t Feel Like Dancing, by the Scissor Sisters rang out, the phrase dead man walking came to mind.
The lasses were gossiping away as he drew closer, people leaning in to catch the dirt and then throwing their heads back in peals of laughter.
‘All right?’ Butchers nodded to Kim, to the group, as he reached the table and they all cracked up, howling as though he’d delivered a punch line. Feeling a complete twat Butchers wandered back to the bar, a sickly grin on his face and a feeling of dread heavy on his shoulders.
Janine had got very merry, very quickly and was trying to talk to Richard and Millie above the noise of the bride-to-be and mates belting out a karaoke version of I Will Survive. ‘Millie,’ Janine said, ‘we had a tortoise called Millie when I was a kid. Is it short for something? Millicent?’
‘Emily, actually,’ Millie said and there was a cool tone in her voice.
Just being sociable, Janine thought, no need to take umbrage. ‘You don’t use Emily for work. Don’t you think it’d be a bit more-’
Richard broke in, ‘Same again? You do the honours,’ he said to Millie.
‘Thanks,’ Janine passed her glass over.
‘I think you’ve had enough,’ Richard said in her ear. Bloody cheek.
‘Piss off,’ Janine told him.
‘More what?’ Millie said to Janine.
What had they been talking about? Janine had lost track, ‘Sorry?’
Millie rolled her eyes.
‘So, how long have you two been an item?’ Janine tried again. ‘He acts like it’s a trade secret,’ she said to Millie, ‘not a married woman, are you?’
‘God, no,’ Millie said rudely. ‘Are you?’ Before Janine could respond she’d waltzed off to the bar.
Richard glared at Janine.
‘What?’ she said.
‘Stop stirring it,’ he said.
‘I’m not,’ Janine said.
‘Maybe you should call it a night, before you make a fool of yourself,’ he said. And he left her there and went after Millie. Janine’s cheeks burned, she felt hurt and then angry and then decided to have another drink and sod the lot of them.
Butchers looked pigsick, Shap noticed. His intended was strutting her stuff with her pals and some lads from uniform, Kim’s cleavage on full show.
‘You want to nip that in the bud, sharpish,’ Shap said nodding at the woman.
Butchers shrugged, ‘ Not bothered.’
‘Not bothered? Her flashing her heirlooms at all comers.’
Another shrug.
‘So why did you pop the question?’ Shap said, ‘Were you pissed?’
‘I don’t remember. It were news to me. Bad news,’ Butchers said.
‘You went ahead and stumped up for the ring, though,’ Shap said.
Butchers grimaced.
‘You tight git,’ Shap said. ‘You made her buy her own ring? You are kidding me.’
‘Just till my salary comes through,’ Butchers said, then he added, ‘What’m I gonna do?’ He reddened, looked ever more awkward, scratched at the back of his neck.
‘Leave it to me, mate. I’ll have a word,’ Shap said.
‘Tony,’ Butchers protested but it was half-hearted.
‘It’s sorted. Trust me,’ Shap said.
Kim’s transformation was instantaneous. From gaudy good-time girl to mouthy harridan as soon as she cottoned on to what Shap was saying, ‘Butchers – Ian – he’s made a bit of a mistake. When he proposed, it was a bit of a joke, yeah, joke that got out of hand. He wants out. No point in ruining both your lives, eh?’
Eyes glinting, mouth set, Kim cursed like a sailor and scanned the room. Soon as she found Butchers she launched herself in his direction. Her friends, confused but sensing some excitement, followed in her wake.
Shap watched as Kim laid into Butchers with her handbag, smacking him about the head and damning him to hell and back. Assaulting a police officer was an offence under any other circumstances but given the situation who could blame her? Shap didn’t reckon anyone was about to slap her in handcuffs.
Over by the bar the boss looked like she was still on a roll. She had been flashing the cash and buying them all drinks and packing a fair few away herself. Now she was flinging her arms around and Detective Superintendent Hogg was concentrating on her rather than the Butchers bust up. Then at that precise moment Hogg looked over to the dance floor and an expression of disgust and resignation rolled across her face. Lady Muck. That’s how Shap thought of her and here she was seeing the plebs at play and not enjoying it one little bit. Shap hadn’t liked the way Hogg dealt with the boss about the confusion in the identity of the dead child. A genuine mistake that, they’d all expected it to be Sammy Wray, yet Lady Muck behaved as though the boss had done something really brainless. Had given her a right bollocking. Never raised her voice but you could tell from the body language.
Kim had drawn blood, a cut visible on Butchers’ face and her friends were getting nowhere fast trying to pull her off, so Shap reckoned he’d better lend a hand before anyone else got hurt.
‘I never took you for a party animal,’ Louise Hogg said.
‘Live it large, Louise, that’s what I say. Show ‘em we’re human,’ Janine said.
‘The team respect you. That’s hard to win but easily lost. You’re never really off duty.’ She got hold of Janine’s glass, edged it away.
‘That’s right,’ Janine said, ‘you can be all mates together, nice and chummy and next morning you’re in the office giving someone a bollocking.’ Like someone not a million miles away. Janine reached over for her drink and took a swig. She’d just finish this one, wouldn’t do any harm.
‘You have to set the tone, lead by example,’ Louise Hogg said carefully, ‘it can be tricky, knowing where to draw the line. And a case like this – it’s hard for everyone involved.’
‘You can say that again. We’re all working our balls off and getting nowhere. I’m telling the parents of a missing three-year-old that I’ve still no news and it makes me wonder if maybe I’m doing something wrong. Maybe I can’t hack it anymore. Am I just in the job because it’s all I’ve ever done? And if I feel like this how am I going to keep up morale for that lot?’