CHAPTER 65
Monday came, and it turned out that Kate had managed to pull some strings of her own and get the night off, along with the following Tuesday. Eric and I were staying with the Woodruffs that night, as riding half-cut through Crawley at pub closing time is never sensible.

It also meant that I could dress more appropriately for the evening. Eric had been back in London for the intervening days, and rode into the driveway just as I was getting changed. He grabbed a quick shower after throwing his panniers into the bedroom we were using, and I could soon hear him singing happily over the noise of the water.

That was something that tied so many of us together, the need for music, and I felt for Kelly in the years she had looked for someone who shared that hunger. That in turn reminded me that I needed to ask what was happening with her and her beau. Not tonight, though, tonight was for Adam. Eric was soon back, looking absolutely edible in nothing but a towel, and that word set me blushing slightly. He was looking away, thankfully. I had missed him horribly, Tabitha and T-shirt remaining poor substitutes.

A manic shout of greeting revealed the arrival of Ginny and her beloved, and before she could burst into the bedroom I was outside its closed door.

“Naked man in there, Ginny!”

“So, nothing I haven’t seen before, and laughed at. Who is he?”

“Eric, of course”

“Should I put the pruning shears away, then?”

“Gilbey girl, I have no idea whatsoever how Kate copes with you”

The wife concerned just smiled. “It gets easier with practice, Annie. That and heavy doses of sedatives when the cage is unlocked. She’s sedated now, can’t you tell?”

After a hug, I went down to the kitchen, where our hosts turned out to be having a bit of a domestic, arguing in a gentle but determined way as to who would get to play which instrument, Steph being without fiddle for the evening so as not to frighten poor Darren out of several years of growth he had yet to begin. Geoff finally played his trump card.

“Look, love, if you really HAVE to get all hairy, take that bodhran I bought you. At least you have to sit down for that”

“And I can play yours later?”

“Yeah, OK, but start out with ours, get used to the plectrum before the wider frets, OK?”

Ginny and Kate shared water and changed, and shortly after we trotted over to the Woods’ and collected a very nervous young man and his ‘olds’.

“You look nice, Annie, real nice”

“Thanks, Darren. So do you, but you look a little twitchy. I know there will be a lot of coppers there, aye? But you are our boy now, all the rules have changed”

“Snot that, lahk, is just that I can’t sing nor play nuffink.”

I laughed. “Darren, there will be loads of people who can’t, so why worry? What I will say, though, is that you never, ever know what you might pick up. If you want, you can try my flute, or maybe Steph might let you try her mandolin. Not tonight, aye? Tonight we do the work, and you just have fun. Deal? Oh, and if Mrs Woodruff starts jumping around looking mad, that’s just her idea of fun, and the same goes for my tall friend. Now, have you ever eaten Nepali food?”

“Woss that?”

“Like curry, sort of thing. They do it at the pub. Otherwise it will have to be chips”

He grinned, and I saw the boy that Albert had found. “Well, I suppose if one must, my dear”

He had the rhythm down pat, Naomi’s style exactly, just the East London vowels letting him down. “Don’t let them hear you taking the piss, Darren”

The grin got broader. “They have heard it, an they do it to me back, lahk”

That grin suddenly vanished. “I can stay, can’t I? I thought that Mizz Armitage, she was gonna take me back”

I hugged him. “Darren, Polly is on your side. Nobody wants to hurt you any more, she just has to be able to tell her bosses it’s going fine, aye? You think those two want you to go?”

“No, but, lahk, what if I fu–mess up? What they do then?”

“Help you sort it out, and help you do better next time. It’s what real people do. Doesn’t mean it’s OK to mess up, just that there are more important things. You are all new to each other, you will learn together, aye?”

He squeezed me back in reply, and he was still so thin, so underfed. I resolved to make damned sure I attended that trial. One was dead, but there were at least three others I wanted to see banged away for a very long time.

Up the road we went, me in my flat sandals and Eric in that nice chinos and polo shirt look I like, axes in hand, or in my case tucked into the large handbag. Stewie and Sally were there, as was Dr Khan, and a several of my colleagues, including Jim, Den and Ruthie. After a round of cheek-kissing, even from Jim, I went over to the ring of chairs. The first of the resident musicians were there, including the sort-of-organiser, a very tall bearded man called Chris.

“We are having a sort of works do tonight, but some of us play, so we’ll sit in if that’s OK”

He smiled. “Don’t worry, we’re already used to that hairy monster with you. She seems to be without her fiddle, though”

I laughed. “Yeah, on best behaviour and mandolin duties tonight”

“Good-oh, we can do ‘Battle of New Orleans’ “

Polly came in at that point, with a fluffy man in tow. Fluffy was the only word I could think of for him, as his head seemed to sprout frizzy hair in all directions. She spotted Darren, and dragged the man over.

“Darren, Annie, this is my other half, Josh. Josh, these are my friends Annie Price and Darren Eyres”

Just like that she raised Darren up from his fears. No longer a client, nor a culprit, but a friend. He seemed to grow six inches at that. I pulled some cash out of my bag and sent him to the bar to get a half dozen bags of crisps to set out for the guests, and then, as the number of coppers started to overwhelm the locals, I stood up and waved for calm and quiet.

“Evening all!”

I waited for the laughter to die down. “Now we have proceeded to licensed premises, it is time for a few beers and some music. Some of you have heard me play before, so the doors are now locked to prevent escape. I know there are rumours going round the station, so here’s the bottom line. I am Sergeant Anne Price, Annie to my friends, and I will be your Custody Sergeant, or one of them, from now on. Any questions, try and catch me when I have a pint in hand rather than my flute! OK?”

It wasn’t a session, but a round. Musicians did their own little thing, and sometimes people joined in, and there was chat, and singing. I did some of my overblown stuff, Darren perched next to me in fascination, and Naomi astonished me by performing ‘Oh Mr Porter’ with all the appropriate nearly-wetting-herself innuendo, and my beloved brought out his implement and delivered The Bard’s ‘Irish Song’ with appropriate flourishes, followed by the Woodruffs doing a series of folk tunes I half recognised Curried snacks were passed around, and Darren received a burger from Albert as the tempo wound up, until Steph managed to get a true session going and the room filled with sound. There were some seriously good musicians there, and they were enjoying themselves.

I took a break to hit the bar and rest my lips, and as if by some malign fate found myself next to Pete Costello, who was clearly outside a few beers of his own.

“You really going for it then, Sarge?”

“I am indeed, Pete. No turning back now”

“Sjust, we were wondering, like, you was married and shit, so how is it you’s a shirtlifter?”

“Pete, I shall put that down to a few too many beers coupled with a bit of a lack of any judgement on your part, OK? Think it through: me woman. Eric man. Straight man, straight woman. Just like you and your missus, unless there is something you haven’t told me”

“Yebbut, you’ve got a cock, I’ve seen it, like, at the pisser in the bogs”

I suppose that was the first time I encountered the odd fascination some ostensibly heterosexual people have for what they perceive as ‘gay’ sex. What, where, how, ewww, tell me more. A small part of Adam was wondering, though, if Pete had actually been comparing cock size, as men are supposed to, and if he had come out ahead, so to speak. I had never done that, or don’t remember doing so, because that part of me has always been a necessary evil, up to the point Ginny took charge. I have always detested it, but believed that there was no way I could realistically hope to get rid of it. Now, everything was different.

“Pete, firstly, there are some subjects that should be private, aye? Secondly…keep this to yourself, but some day soon a surgeon is going to slice it open and scoop out the meat, after cutting off my balls. He will then push it back inside me, into a hole he’s cut, and throw away all the waste…the toilet’s over in the corner, rinse your mouth out…bye!”

They want the detail, but sometimes that is a step too far for them

I turned from the bar to witness an odd sight, Kate sitting with her arm around Sally as Ginny sat nearby, and at one point Kate gently kissed Sally’s cheek and pulled her head down onto her shoulder. It looked like simple affection, but even as a confirmed hugger and cuddler I thought it was a bit excessive. I followed Ginny to the ladies’ a few minutes later, and asked her flatly what was happening.

“Oh, Kate and Sal go back a very long way, and Sal’s a bit down. You know Kate, big softy is my girl”

“What aren’t you telling me, Ginny?”

“Not now, OK? If Kate wants to tell you, it’s her business, yeah? Now, you are supposed to be mingling, not spying, so get back out there and do some life-and-souling. I will talk to my girly, and it’s her call, yeah? Now, out!”

In the end, we rolled home at a quarter to eleven, in consideration of Darren’s age, and after he went off to bed we sat in the Woods’ living room having a coffee. Quite a few had come back with us, rather than stay with Costello and the rest as they attempted to empty the cellar; Den and Kirsty, Sally and Stewie, Polly and Josh, and Dr Khan and Jim, all joined my little group of what I was thinking of as family. Just as Albert was serving, there was a ring at the door, and Nev came in, in uniform.

“Couldn’t make the do, what with work, but just wanted to stop by and wish you well. How’d it go?”

“Pete Costello had a bad pint and ended up being sick in the gents’, but apart from that it was great.”

Nev laughed. “Not what I heard, Annie. The rumour mill has it that you gave him a very graphic surgical lecture, and our Pete is a bit attached to that part of him. Blokes are, normally”

I laughed back. “And now you know for certain that I have never been a bloke!”