‘A bus?’
‘Open top. They’re all the rage.’
‘For winning football teams, maybe. I prefer the Merc.’
‘I think she wanted a solution to people getting from A to B, being able to drink and not having to worry about driving. When’s your stag do, darling?’ Jack hadn’t given it a second thought — and he was fairly sure Ridley hadn’t either. Penny smiled. ‘I bet Simon’s got it all planned. He’s the organised sort. Now, Jack...’ Penny pointed the vegetable knife in his direction. ‘I want to give you some money for behind the bar. I know you said you’d do it but, well, you know what policemen and nurses are like with a free bar. I insist.’ Penny then turned back to her chopping board and fell silent. He could tell by the way her shoulders had tightened that she was crying.
‘I remember when you and Dad knew that Maggie and I were for keeps,’ Jack said gently. ‘Dad said that when the time came, a free bar would be his gift to us.’ Jack put on his dad’s deep, West Country accent: A free bar is a powerful thing, son. People won’t remember the wedding, but they’ll remember you forever. You don’t have to take on Dad’s promise, Mum. You’ve done so much...’ Jack corrected himself. ‘You do so much.’
‘I miss him at times like this,’ Penny said, sniffing. ‘I don’t want to sit at the front on my own. I want to be on your dad’s arm. I want to hold his hand and watch our son get married to the best girl in the world.’
Jack got up and stood just behind her.
‘Be on my arm.’ Penny turned to face him. Her glasses were steamed up and tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘There’s nothing to say that I have to start off at the front. Walk me down the aisle, Mum. Give me to Maggie.’ Penny rested her head on Jack’s chest and put her arms round his waist. He rested his chin on the top of her head and hugged her. ‘I miss him too.’
When Maggie arrived home, Penny was upstairs watching Midsomer Murders in her bedroom, Hannah was asleep, and Jack was pretending to keep an eye on the cottage pie that Penny had made. He was flicking through the list of things already organised for his wedding, and the list of things that still needed tackling — clearly a mammoth amount of work had happened without him even noticing. It made him feel bad for not pulling his weight, but as he looked at the work still to be done, he just couldn’t muster any enthusiasm. He wanted to marry Maggie and he wanted a wedding day to celebrate his love for her in front of all of their friends... he just couldn’t be arsed with the rigmarole of it all.
Jack had moved all of the unopened wedding gifts into the living room and opened a bottle of red wine. He’d handed Maggie a full glass and sent her upstairs to soak in the bath that he’d already run for her. Some things Jack was good at. Pampering Maggie was one of them.
Jack sprinkled cheese on top of the cottage pie then put it back into the oven. Then he moved to the fridge where a magnetic white scribble pad had pride of place. In the centre of the pad, was a handwritten list.
6 p.m.: turn the dish as the back of the oven is hotter than the front. 6.30 p.m.: add cheese & turn down to 140. 7 p.m: ready.
Jack plucked the magnetic board rubber from the fridge door and wiped everything off the scribble pad. He then turned the oven down to 140 and returned to the lounge.
Maggie was now sitting in his large towelling robe, feet tucked underneath her, wine in hand. He loved how she looked, fresh from a bath. She had glowing, rosy cheeks and soft wrinkled fingertips. And she smelt of mandarins. Jack proudly announced that tomorrow he was going into town to shop for bridesmaids’ gifts, and something for Ridley.
Maggie gave him a gentle smile. ‘It’s done. I went out on my lunchbreak and bought a silver bracelet each for Regina and my sister. I was going to get a gold tie pin for Simon but, seeing as he’s retiring, I got him a subscription to a Scottish distillery instead. He’ll get their Whisky of the Month for a whole year.’
Jack thought about the timeframe: a whole year. For all he knew, it could turn out to be a gift that didn’t get used. Jack realised he was desperate to share Ridley’s cancer news with Maggie, but instead, he handed her the first wedding gift to open.
As she picked at the packing tape, she brought up the subject of Jack’s week off work. ‘I can’t get a week off with you, Jack. I did ask but it’s just too short notice. I can get three days, so we could have a long weekend somewhere. On the wedding night, we booked a suite at Soho House, remember?’ Jack admitted that he hadn’t remembered. ‘If you wanted to go out of town for three days, I can cancel it? What do you want to do?’
‘It doesn’t matter, Mags. I just got this week off and thought... well, I didn’t think. It was stupid. Sorry. Let’s just stick to the two-week honeymoon later in the year.’
Maggie leant across the gift on her knee and took hold of Jack’s hand. She spoke gently. ‘You know, Jack, it was stupid. Because we both work shifts, so why on earth wouldn’t you have asked me before taking a week off? Answer: you didn’t take a week off. You’ve been told to. You’ve pissed Ridley off again, haven’t you?’ Maggie smiled, then rocked forwards on her knees and placed a long kiss on Jack’s lips. ‘I love you, Jack Warr. For a whole week, I get my man waiting at home for me, running my baths, pouring my wine.’ She punctuated her fantasy list with another kiss. ‘And Ridley will forgive whatever you’ve done.’ Maggie rocked back onto her bottom and, as she took the final piece of tape off the first present, she instructed Jack to write down what she said. ‘Aunt Jane. Bookends.’ She then put on her best pretend-excited voice. ‘Oh, Jack. One’s got your name engraved on it and the other’s got mine!’
‘Well, shit, that makes them impossible to sell on eBay!’ Jack typed the notes into his mobile. ‘Now I’m going to have to buy a fucking bookshelf.’
Maggie picked up the next gift. ‘You want to talk about what happened with Simon? You’ve not been suspended, have you?’ Jack explained that Ridley had pushed him off the case, using the wedding as an excuse. He’d not been suspended, but only because he hadn’t dug his heels in. ‘Well, he couldn’t suspend you for no reason. Is Simon wrong to keep you away from the case? If he is, you should dig your heels in. What’s stopping you?’
Jack couldn’t tell Maggie about Ridley’s illness and so made out that taking a week away from the case was more of a mutual decision.
‘It’s hard for Ridley because we’re working under another team. He’s not the one ultimately in charge, so lines have to be toed.’ Maggie sucked her teeth. She knew that toeing lines wasn’t something Jack was very good at. He continued, ‘The investigation is being headed up by Drugs and, sometimes, as they pick up the pace, we have to slow down so that our investigation doesn’t get in the way of theirs. Only I’m so close to finding this one particular guy, Mags, and he’s crucial to our murder investigation, I just know he is. So, sitting on my hands for a week could be a disaster.’ A darkness came into Jack’s eyes as his true feelings about the case surfaced.
‘I know that I get blinkered. But I get obsessed with one train of enquiry because I know — I know — it’s leading me in the right direction. There’s this guy, Adam Border. His name keeps coming up, but no one can find him. He might be connected to the drugs, but he’s definitely connected to a second line of enquiry around the art world. ’Course, Drug Squad aren’t interested in that, because Josh is filling their heads with how big-time this sort of gang crime is in the US. They’re saving the world and all I’m doing is getting justice for two women who are already dead and gone. But they matter, Mags. And I seem to be the only one focussed on that. Everyone else is double checking every move they make with Steve-bloody-Lewis.’