CHAPTER 57
Eric was down at the weekend, just as I switched to night shifts. He arrived early Friday evening, as I lay in bed trying to get a few hours sleep before going in, and the first I knew was when a warm body slipped into bed with me. I grunted a bit, then made my complaint.

“You sod, Johnson, you just want to make it impossible for me to go to work, aye?”

He spooned round me, and I settled into him.

“What are you going to do? I’ll be at work all night, bed all day”

“Don’t know if you mind, but I was going to go house hunting. If I get this job, this place is nowhere near big enough.”

“So you just assume we are going to live together?”

“Yup!”

“You are a cheeky bugger, Eric. Anything else planned?”

“Going to look in on Darren. Make sure he’s not wearing out Albert, then get a ride in with Geoff. I want to go for another SR next year, and he would be a handy riding partner for the 600. Speaking of which, what about a tour next Summer?”

“A bit ahead of ourselves? I was thinking, on Sunday, it’s only been a week”

“Having doubts, Annie?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“Well, neither am I. Turn round this way so I can have a kiss, yeah?”

I was nearly late for work. Den was going off as I came on, nothing to hand over, and we managed a few minutes chat in a corner over a cup of Jim’s universal solvent.

“Kirsty told me about the meeting with Davenport. What an odd reaction!”

“No, Den, I don’t think so. He’s always been a bit of an admin bloke, I mean, between you and me and this pillar, he cocked up the caution when he arrested Harton, he’s so much out of the loop. I think he sees me as a sort of new game, a challenge to his admin skills. I swear his eyes lit up. Anyway, what about Kirsty?”

“Yeah, she said about the exam, but she’s not sure”

“Hell, Den, she’s been around long enough, and I know she does the tits and gob bit---do not blush, you dirty bugger! Look, two of us to coach her, I‘m sure Jim or Sam would lend a hand. She’s not stupid, aye?”

“Thanks, mate. That is an offer I really appreciate. We’ll pay you back, yeah?”

I squeezed his hand, and he didn’t flinch at all. “You already have paid me back, Den, both of you. Anyway, friends don’t keep score, aye?”

“Aye, lass.”

Nev was one of the first in after Den had gone home, with a drunk and disorderly teenager he had found riding a shopping trolley in the local skate park off his face on white cider, and nearly without said face when the trolley overturned. He wanted to sue Tesco for having shit trolleys, man, so I booked him in, and called the FME for a look to see if there were any other injuries.

“Do you want anybody told you are here?”

“No, miss. No, yes, could I call my mum? Could she come and get me?”

I looked at Nev, and he gave a short nod. Caution, or charge and bail, after a check over to make sure he wouldn’t snuff it at home. Assuming his mother wanted to collect him, of course.

“Number 4, Nev, and can you get the camera turned on?”

He was back in a couple of minutes, grinning.

“Sarge, you really need a haircut, and to do something with your man-boobs. I know you’ve lost a shitload of weight, which is good, but…”

He waved vaguely at my chest, a gesture I was growing used to. I took a deep breath. The Skippers and the boss knew. Den and Kirsty knew. At some point, it would be coming out to the rest of the nick. Fuck it. I led him over to the same quiet corner.

“Nev, you might as well get in on the loop. I won’t be cutting my hair, not the way you mean.”

“Davenport is going to be on your back, then, Sarge!”

“No he won’t”

Deep breath again. “And these are not moobs.”

There was at least a minute of silence as his mind worked, a series of expressions flitting across his face. “You are having a giraffe, Sarge. You are taking the piss, just cause he called you…shit, you are fucking serious!”

“Anne. It’s Anne, Nev, and Annie to my friends. Ball’s in your court.”

“Fuck me backwards. You poor fucker! Who else knows?”

“Den, Ruth, Jim, Sam, Harry Osborne and Mr Davenport here; most of my friends outside. Oh, and my boyfriend of course”

He was pale, and just stood shaking his head.

“Fuck, Sarge, Annie, you are doing my fucking crust in. What do you need from me?”

One question said it all. What did I need from him?

“Just be there, Nev. Going to be some hard times coming up, and I will need friends. Thank you”

“Boyfriend. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

He drew in a long, shuddering breath, held it for an instant, then shook his head and sighed. “Prisoner to sort, Annie, I’ll keep you up to speed, and hopefully mummy dearest can get him home”

“Thanks Nev.”

He walked off, shaking his head as if to dislodge an irritating fly. One down. I realised that by morning, half the nick would know, and the rest within 24 hours, but that was it. Getting out of bed and leaving my lover, dressing as a stranger and wearing Adam would not work when we found our own place together. I was fed up, and time was passing. I texted Sally.

--Just come out at work. All will know by tomorrow night

Half an hour later.

--What bloody time? Good girl. Ignore complaints about small hours. Stewie woke me anyway. Talk next week. Really talk.

The night was quiet in the end, Nev’s boy turning out to have a broken nose, and in the end accepting a police caution for the silliness and riding home with his mother after some tears from both that I suspect were far from alcohol-induced in either case. It wasn’t till the dawn was starting to show on the camera view of the yard that we had any visitors, as the early relief started to drift in, and after parade head out onto the street as the nights staff found their way home. I noticed a couple of sideways glances as I set off on the bike, and wondered how many were directed at my chest.

I was regretting my rashness by the time I was at my door. I had been so needy, dying to get out of Adam’s skin, and while I had no doubt as to Nev’s reliability I had now abdicated all control over my future. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I took a quick shower after getting in and slipped into a nighty before sliding in next to Eric, and waking him by the time-honoured womanly method of putting cold knees against his body. I eased his pain with a kiss to the back of his neck and the cuppa I had placed by the bed.

“Morning, love” he yawned

“Morning you…I stuffed up last night”

“What happened?”

That struck me. I stated that I had done something, he asked what had happened. Not ‘what did you do wrong?’. I can’t say he was full of surprises, but that he confirmed each time how right I had been to fall in love with him.

“I got sort of impatient”

“Shit. Who did you tell?”

“Nev Chamberlain, one of E-shift”

“How did he take it, love?”

I ran through the story, being called ‘miss’ even though in full Adam, and detailing Nev’s reaction.

“Will he blab?”

“I didn’t really tell him not to, love”

“Ah. Well, what are you wearing to work tonight?”

“Uniform, of course”

“No, you goose. Underneath. If he says you have boobs, like”

“Oh shit, I have no idea. Look, if you dig into my CDs, you will find one by a girl called Lisa Ekdahl. She always relaxes me. What would be nice is if you could put it on while I drink my tea, then snuggle with me till I fall asleep. I will think about that question when I wake up, OK? You go and look after Darren and Albert, and then will see you before I set off for work, aye?”

He did as asked, and I sipped my tea as her voice started to wash over me, till Eric told me to roll over, and started to massage my shoulders…the room was dark, Eric rattling something in the kitchen, and I had just slept solidly, without dreams, without alcohol. He was exactly what I needed, it seemed, more than sleeping pills or wine.

He simply had to get that job, He was mine, and London’s loss.