At the same time that her old team were receiving their first briefing of the day, but on the other side of town, DC Karen Hardwick stared at the envelope. The crest in the corner told her who the sender was without any need to open it. She sat down, her legs suddenly weak. She’d filled in the forms weeks ago, then forgot all about them until the invitation to come and visit. Even then it hadn’t seemed real; more of a cosy chat than anything serious. But she’d enjoyed it and realized how much she’d missed that life.
For the past few years, almost her whole existence had been the police. First a constable on the beat, then a sideways move into CID as a detective constable. She’d enjoyed the intellectual challenge of working cases and DCI Jones and DI Sutton had been tremendous mentors.
And then there had been Gary. Awkward from the moment they’d met, it had been obvious the more experienced constable had fancied her from the outset, but she had been too engrossed in her new role to think about things like that. Besides, workplace romances were never a good idea, were they?
Of course, it had been nothing more than idle curiosity that had led her to looking up Hertfordshire Constabulary’s policy on relationships between colleagues. To her surprise it turned out that as long as there were no line management conflicts of interest and supervisors were apprised of the relationship, there was no problem at all.
In the end, there had been no need to inform DCI Jones of their burgeoning romance; he and the room full of detectives they worked with had seen the direction their friendship was going in before even she and Gary had realized what was happening.
The next two years had been the happiest of her life, as the two lovers had moved in together and started planning for a future that would forever include the two of them.
Tears pricked at her eyes, and she gently touched the diamond band on her left ring finger.
Fifteen months.
Fifteen months since a week that had seen the two of them reach new levels of happiness.
Fifteen months since her surprise discovery had turned their world upside down and made everything else seem trivial and unimportant.
Fifteen months since a glimpse at a future of love and excitement had been cruelly snatched away.
Fifteen months since a senseless act of violence had destroyed all of their futures.
As if sensing his mother’s distress, a fussing came from the baby carriage next to the armchair. Karen held her breath; she’d only finished feeding him twenty minutes before – at eight months old, Oliver was no longer so demanding, but he was still hard work. He continued to grizzle for a few moments before settling back to sleep.
She turned her attention back to the letter, picking it up and weighing it in her hand. Judging from the thickness of the envelope, it contained a single sheet of A4 paper folded three times.
What did a single sheet mean? Yes or No? For the first time since she had started the process, she realized that she was truly at a crossroads. The answer contained within the envelope was just one of several options, and whilst in theory she had until February to decide what she wanted to do, she needed to make her mind up sooner rather than later.
She placed it back on the table and walked over to the kitchen counter to fill the kettle, suddenly needing to do something – anything – rather than open the envelope. The threatened tears now started to roll down her cheeks again.
Fifteen months and sometimes the grief was as strong as the day that he’d been killed. Outwardly she appeared to be coping amazingly well; she’d lost count of the number of times she’d been told that, as if burying one’s true feelings and carrying on as if nothing happened was something to be proud of.
But inside …
Inside it was a different matter.
When Oliver finally went down for the night, and the bedroom door closed, she crumpled, climbing into her bed – their bed – and crammed the duvet into her mouth to muffle the sobs as she pressed her hands against her ears, trying to blot out the memory of the sound of Gary’s death; the deafening crash that cut him off in the middle of the last conversation she’d ever have with him.
Fifteen months and she still imagined she could smell Gary on his pillow.
Fifteen months and she could convince herself that any moment now she’d hear his key in the lock; the metallic chink as he dropped his key, coin wallet and ID badge into the bowl on the kitchen table. Then the quiet creak of the bedroom door as he slipped in, tired after a long shift but still wanting to steal a quick kiss before clambering into bed beside her.
What she wouldn’t give to have him here now. Gary would help her decide. Gary would listen and help her make up her own mind without pushing her either way, and even if he disagreed with her decision, he would support her one hundred per cent. But that was no longer possible.
Who else could she ask for advice? Who else would be an impartial sounding board? Everyone who loved her wanted the best for her, but they all had their own views about what she should do.
She knew what her parents would want. They’d be delighted if she moved back to where she was brought up. Since her grandmother’s passing, the small, self-contained granny flat that she’d spent her last few years in had been empty. It would be the perfect size for her and Oliver. Her father had never been anything but one hundred per cent supportive of her career choices, but she knew he had been disappointed when she’d joined the police, rather than continuing the career in science that she’d seemed destined to follow since childhood.
Then there were Gary’s parents. They’d be equally delighted if she moved closer to them. Oliver was the only living evidence that their son had once walked the earth. They meant well, but sometimes she just wanted to scream ‘leave us alone’. If she accepted the offer in the letter, living in Middlesbury was no longer an option. Gary’s Mum and Dad had already promised to help her with the deposit on a flat if she moved nearer; it would also mean free childcare as both his parents were retired. Their offer was generous, and God knows it would be one less worry, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be that close. She loved the couple who would have been her in-laws to bits, but sometimes she felt smothered as they sought to lessen their grief by focusing on Gary’s legacy.
And what about DCI Jones? Over the years, she’d come to value his opinion and guidance on so much, but she knew he couldn’t be impartial. He was desperate for her to return to Middlesbury CID. But could she face it? Could she go to work every day in the same office where she’d met and fallen in love with Gary, working for the man who’d held her fiancé’s hand as his life ebbed away? She’d heard everything that happened over the open telephone line and she’d remember Jones’s panicked response until the day she died.
But then again, did she want to work in a different unit or even a different force? Middlesbury was unique, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever find a team she’d feel as comfortable in.
In a way, the direction that she chose was less to do with her future career and more to do with a more straightforward yet more difficult choice: should she try to pick up the pieces and continue as before, or make a clean break of it?
She picked up the envelope again. Over the baby monitor, she could hear the quiet rasp of Oliver’s breathing. The contents of the envelope were as important to his future as hers. She took a sip of her coffee. Lukewarm already.
Time to stop procrastinating.
Before she could find another excuse to delay, she slipped her finger under the flap and pulled the two edges apart. She removed the sheet of paper, unfolding it as she did so.
The top third confirmed the identity of the sender on the right and her mailing address on the left. A single line before the fold.
Dear Ms Hardwick,
Hands trembling, she turned it over.
After a successful interview, we are delighted to offer you a place studying for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in the School of Biosciences at the University of Nottingham for the academic year commencing September 1st 2016.
We would be grateful if you could communicate your intentions to us no later than Friday December 4th 2015.