Phil was standing outside the station, sheltering from the rain under a tiled porchway, not keeping noticeably drier. He had turned the collar of his jacket up, pulled it in. He didn’t know why people did that. It didn’t keep the rain off or make you any warmer. Maybe it was just one of those things you did so you felt you were doing something positive. Being in control of things.
That thought sent him back to his conversation with Cotter.
He took his phone out, looked at it. No calls from Marina. He sighed, pressed her number.
It rang.
He waited.
He looked round. Down at the Bullring and New Street, the streets would be full of Christmas shoppers. Here, the only people who came along were those that had a reason. Going to the children’s hospital on the other side of the road, or the police station. Neither sounded like fun.
The phone was still ringing.
And ringing.
He heard Marina’s voice. ‘Hi, this is Marina Esposito. I’m sorry I can’t take your call right now…’
Should he leave a message? He took the phone away from his ear, ready to terminate the call. But something stopped him. He replaced it.
‘Hey, it’s me. I’m…’ He sighed. ‘I want to talk to you. Just, just give me a call. Bye.’ He was about to hang up but realised he had forgotten something important. ‘Love you.’
He ended the call. Pocketed the phone. Made his way back inside.
At least it was warm and dry in there. If nothing else.