The Blissfully Dead

But he still couldn’t stop himself shouting something almost as unprofessional in Gareth’s face. ‘You’ll be working in a burger bar in Teddington yourself if you don’t get some sodding results soon! Go and see Peter Bell, now!’

He stopped dead. Winkler was standing at the far end of the room, a sickening grin on his face. Gareth, who had gone pale, turned to follow Patrick’s gaze. Winkler walked off, waving, and Gareth hung his head.

‘Actually, DI Winkler needs help. Why don’t you go and talk to him? Find out what he needs?’

‘Yes, boss.’

Gareth hurried away, just as Patrick’s mobile started to vibrate. Carmella, at last. As he answered, he looked up and saw Winkler talking to Gareth through the window, resting a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. Probably best, he thought, if Gareth did Winkler’s donkey work for a day or two. Then Patrick would apologise to him for losing his temper.

He swivelled his chair away from them. He’d listen to Carmella’s report, and then he was going to go home and take his daughter to the park, try to shift this funk.

Chapter 26

Day 8 – Patrick

Bo

‘Daddy! My daddy!’ she cried, reminding him of the ending of the movie The Railway Children, as she grasped him tightly around his neck, still clutching a limp felt cow in her fist.

His mother, Mairead, looked pleased to see him too. ‘Pat! We weren’t expecting you for hours yet!’

He smiled at her. ‘It’s all getting a bit fraught at work. Needed a couple of hours away from it. Who fancies a trip to the swings?’

‘Me!’ shrieked Bo

‘Coming, Mum? Or do you fancy putting your feet up for a bit?’

Mairead pursed her lips. ‘I’ll come, I think. I could do with some fresh pear.’

‘Fresh pear?’

‘Air, Patrick, I said. Air. And you look like you could yourself too; you’re as white as a rice pudding.’

She had definitely said ‘pear’. This wasn’t the first time he’d noticed her randomly misusing words, but he had always put it down to her being tired. Now that Gill was going back to work and Mairead was resuming her duties as Bo

‘Let’s go, then,’ he said, helping Bo

It was such a cold day that the playground in Bushy Park was almost empty. Bo

Patrick and Mairead sat together on a nearby bench.

‘She makes me feel knackered just looking at her,’ Patrick observed.

‘She’s a dote,’ Mairead said fondly. ‘So, how’s work going?’

Patrick sighed and took out his e-cigarette. ‘Tough. I feel like Bo

‘Ah, it’s a responsible job all right,’ his mother agreed, refusing to engage with the grimness of what he’d said. ‘And how’s the lovely Carmella?’ She’d always had a soft spot for Carmella. They’d met once, and Mairead had been delighted to discover that she knew of Carmella’s auntie from County Meath – which, in Mairead’s book, made them friends for life.

‘She’s fine. She went over to Dublin today following a lead. She’ll be back later.’

‘Dublin?’ His mother looked puzzled. ‘That’s an awful long flight!’

Patrick turned to look at her. ‘What are you on about, Mum?’

‘You can’t be sending her over there for just a day, when it takes nine hours to get there on a plane!’

‘Nine hours? Mum, are you winding me up? You know it only takes an hour to fly to Dublin!’ Patrick experienced a new rush of all the irritation he’d felt earlier with Gareth Batey.

‘Oh,’ she said in a small voice. ‘Does it now? I must be mistaken.’

‘You are,’ said Pat briskly, standing up to hide his worried expression. This was not normal. Oh God, he thought, please don’t let her be losing her marbles. He took a deep drag of his e-cig and was about to join Bo

‘Fancy seeing you here!’ she said, panting loudly. He couldn’t help noticing the way the skintight Lycra top and leggings hugged her figure. ‘You wouldn’t think we were in the middle of a case, would you?’

He looked sharply at her to see if this was a criticism, but she was still smiling at him.

‘Needed to clear my head.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry, Pat, I know how many hours you’ve put in over the last week. Of course I don’t begrudge you a couple off. Is that your Bo

Bo

‘It is,’ he said proudly.

Suza

‘And this is my mother, Mairead.’ He turned to her. ‘Mum, this is my boss, Suza

‘You look awful glamorous for a detective,’ Mairead said suspiciously.

‘Well, thank you, Mrs Le

He vaulted over the fence to where Suza

It was odd, being so near Suza

Their eyes met.

‘So,’ she said, briskly zipping up her jacket to cover her chest.

Why did she make him feel like a randy teenager? He suddenly smiled at her, unable to help himself, and she returned the smile. Neither of them spoke for a moment, but their chemistry puffed almost visibly around them in the chill February air, like Suza

‘So,’ he repeated softly, equally unable to stop himself reaching out and gently touching her hand.

The spell was broken by a screeching voice. ‘Daddeee! Look at meeeee!’

He and Suza

‘Any news from Carmella in Dublin?’ Suza

‘Not yet. She’s about to visit the girl at home, says she’ll call when she’s done.’

‘Hmm. Anything else?’

Patrick frowned. ‘Not a lot. Batey’s dicking around getting nowhere, says he’s been to all the burger bars but nobody saw Rose. I got pissed off with him, actually – he should’ve been chasing up Peter Bell and the hotel key card. Oh, one bit of good news . . .’