CHAPTER 52
Life was almost back to normal then, and I was up past my ears in sodding budget allocations. I had some hopes, though, as my seniority slowly grew, and kept my eyes on the job adverts.

I was looking for somewhere further West, ideally either just up the road from Mam and Dad or near Kev and Vicky. There was no way I was ever getting back to the old team yng Nghaerdydd, because what I had started had become very, very desirable, and much more influential and far more senior men were queuing up to take the command, and yes, as far as I could see they were all men. Ah well.

The year was evaporating. As I got older, time seemed to find a higher gear to run in, and almost before I knew it we were running up to stag and hen parties. I say ‘almost’ because I had actually organised them both, and I hate to admit it but I had deliberately broken the rule that said the two events should be and remain entirely separate events. Siân would lead the flock of hens round one part of the capital, while my herd of stags followed a route clearly laid out by Chris and Omar, because I don’t think there was a single pink pub they intended to omit. Blake had set one condition.

“I am not wearing sodding fancy dress, got that?”

We gathered at the station one evening a week before the couple were due to fly out to the Dom Rep, as they called it, because the assumption seemed to be that seven days would be the minimum required for the hangover to subside. Diane had surprised me with a wedding invitation for the two of us, and when I ran the dates past my boss he just smiled and showed me the draft e-mail he had already prepared giving me the time off. I had clearly trained my boys and girls more than adequately!

Chris had been the first to arrive at the station, and he was sat outside by the car turning circle wearing the tightest trousers I had ever seen on a man and a shocking pink T-shirt reading “Talk to the hand”. It wasn’t until I got closer that I saw the much smaller printing that made the slogan actually read “Talk to the tits and the hand will slap your face”

I raised an eyebrow, and he grinned. “Got a job lot for the girls, but there was one left over, and so…”

I gave him a hug, and as we broke and there was Omar, Scott and Fahmi, Blake approaching across the pedestrianised area, Alun, Kev, Rod in tow, Bev, Wyn, Dai Gould and so many others. I felt I had come home and yet at the same time realised they, we, had all moved on. We had a quorum, I stood up.

“Boys but not girls!”

Laughter, so I grinned back. “I must inform you that the liver is evil, and so it must be punished! Let us all now proceed in good order to an appropriate place of correction”

And so it was, up Churchill Way and pub after pub, the Kings, downstairs to the Eagle, beer flowing, Minsky’s for some silliness including a bloody drag act,, a pause for chips with bread and bloody butter and finally, finally, as I was starting to feel more than a little relaxed, we rolled into the Smuggler’s, where the hens already held court in a large part of the main bar. I called over to Blake “Who’s got the whip?” and someone from the crowd shouted out that he had the chains, as Blake in turn just grinned and pointed over my head to the bar. There was a sign there.

“Welcome Blake and Diane. You and your friends leave your hands out of your pockets”

I did my usual eyebrow thing to the barman and he gave me a sharp look.

“Your mate Chris, there, him and all the others, girl. Omar and Scott organised a fund raiser for the party. You all looked after us, Inspector Powell, and yes we all know who you are and what you did. Drinks are all paid for and we have a special licence, so no rush”

He handed me a pint of Felinfoel with a grin. “I was told what you drink as well!”

For some reason my memories of the rest of that night are hazy in many of their details, but in the end it all reminded me of Tony and Sarah. He would almost always find a seat somewhere and smile fondly while she shook her body about, Here, Dai, Fahmi and Debbie sat with me and the wife as we watched the youngsters doing their thing, and it was all wonderful and not to be eclipsed until ten days later as Siân and I stood on a Caribbean beach while two of my boys and girls exchanged rings and vows under a brilliant blue sky as waves hissed up the sand. It wasn’t our Greek villa, we didn’t have the children with us, but I still felt almost like a mother to both of them. I let myself bask in a little pride, a little arrogance, almost. That throng at the Smuggler’s, this couple kissing under a white awning on a tropical beach, they were my work, my gift to the world, something I had done that made it a better place.

Of course, that brought on the other concern, and I resolved to try and push things along with Tony. If I could do this for others, then I could do it for myself and my wife,

It was a real shock to my system to return to the budgets again, and I realised I was actually only living when I got out of the office. It wasn’t me, that was definitely true. I kept looking through the jobs that came up on the intranet, but it just wasn’t happening for me. It was such a bloody grind I wasn’t sure I would be able to be there for Annie’s visit to try and get her family onside. That one hurt, and it was something I ran past the newlyweds at the same pub in Cowbridge where I had first handed them the news about Annie.

“Not driving tonight, Blake?”

“No, we took a room, innit?”

Diane was slumped comfortably against her husband, and it was something I realised I had never seen in her before: relaxation, utter and complete. She had always had an air of tension, of a bowstring just before the arrow is released, and I thought back to that day in the hospital when Blake had interviewed Omar with such tact and gentleness. I dropped my little hand grenade.

“Annie’s coming over by here in a week”

Diane sat up straight, looking up at Blake. “Could… could I see her?”

“That be a good idea, girl?”

She grimaced, and Blake took her hand. She squeezed his in turn, the ring bright against the tan of her skin.

“No, it wouldn’t. I just thought, you know, sneaky like. I mean, we did sort of get good at that, didn’t we?”

“What are you thinking?”

“Well, I know you, Lainey, we both do. You said you had your back, so we assume you’ll be watching her back, innit? Just in case?”

“I can’t be sure I’ll be free to do that. Tied up in bloody office work, can’t sneak off like I did for the wedding. And you call me sneaky, arranging it like that, aye?”

Blake laughed. “We do know you, Inspector Powell. Very well indeed. Lainey, if you can’t go you will have sorted a substitute, innit? Who you delegated the duty to?”

“Sod it, I trained you two far too well. Siân, cariad, you sure you are happy to drive?”

She simply laughed and went to get me another pint. I turned back to the others.

“She’ll have a friend and her husband with her, and if I can’t make it, well, I will sort, aye. Now, what are your thoughts on this?”

Diane squeezed Blake’s hand again, and he nodded. “Thought I’d go blonde for a while, Lainey, that and some specs. She’s going to be so wound up with nerves she won’t see past the stress blinkers. Just need to know where and when, assuming it’ll be somewhere like a caff or a pub”

“Sure? You know that—“

Siân put her hand over my mouth. “Diane deserves this, Lainey. Di. You just want to see she’s happy, don’t you?”

Diane nodded, Blake’s arm now around her shoulder. “Yes. Happy and safe. Then I can relax”

In the end, Annie made it over to Gaerfyrddin, where I’d found her just the right place in a little hotel, as our own spare room wasn’t exactly spare at the time. I mean, it was a room, it just didn’t have any actual room in it. I’d set up a weights machine in there, and a stationary bike, and everything else we were accumulating. I realised just then that it was another symptom of our hiding from our need. A spare bedroom that could be used as one would have shouted ‘nursery far too loudly.

Annie did her bit with the one relative she had hopes for, and it seemed to work, but what I had feared did indeed come to pass: the real family meeting was set for Abertawe on the evening when I would be chairing some dire session of management bullshit bingo. I made the calls, and Dad and Uncle Arwel were as reliable as ever. Once sorted, I made that other call.

“Di? The Tawe Teas place in, er, Swansea. Five o’clock. Promise you’ll be careful?”