Porter threw the ball again and watched as Freddie scampered after it. His pleasure was so simple, the unbridled joy of a spaniel, his tongue lolling as he ran, growling at the ball, before bringing it back to him, dropping it on the floor and panting.
The walk usually invigorated him, whatever time of year. Either during the bitter winds of winter or in the brighter days of summer, the long sweep of the headland and the constant swell of the tide made him glad he’d never moved away. It used to be his favourite part of the day, alone with his thoughts and memories, basking in the glow of his favourite part of the world.
But, today, it felt hollow.
He picked up the ball and put it in his pocket. He wasn’t in the mood for the game. Instead, he wandered towards the cliff edge, ragged and uneven, eroding every year. The tarmac path that had once been a long way from it was now at risk of tumbling to the sand and pebbles below.
The sea spread out in front of him, growing as he got closer, occupying his whole view. There was a boat in the far distance, one of the Russian factory ships that anchored off the coast sometimes. The town was in the distance, the grey churn of the sea pounding against the sea wall, brightened by white spray.
His town. He’d dedicated his working life to keeping it safe. Did that count for anything when he looked back? He’d once thought it had, but when he looked at himself now, he was just another old man walking his dog. Life carried on and all he’d seen had faded into history.
And all that he’d learned couldn’t be erased.
He patted his thigh to beckon Freddie towards him before setting off for home.
His head was down most of the way, lost in thought. Freddie sensed it, not playing and yapping like normal but just trudging alongside.
When Porter got in, he went straight to the living room and sat down.
Linda was watching television, her legs curled up on the sofa, glued to some reality show about people competing to be the best at whatever hobby they had. They’d each found their own space, their need to be together long gone.
She pressed the pause button and eyed him with curiosity. ‘What’s going on?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You never sit in here. This is our life. You sit in your room, with your sport and your films, and this is mine, for what I want to watch. But you’re sitting there, your coat on, swinging that dog lead like there’s something you want to tell me.’
Freddie slumped at his feet. He leaned forward to stroke his head and said, ‘We had good careers, didn’t we?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Just that. You were a good teacher. I was a good copper. Our kids are great, all making their way in the world. We did the right things, tried to live good lives, so we’ve every right to be proud.’
She clicked off the television. ‘Andrew, what is going on?’
‘I was just musing, looking back. Tell me this though: why was I a good copper?’
She furrowed her brow before answering, ‘Because you saw your job as a service to the community, not just a job. You were honest. You wanted to protect people.’
‘Were you proud of me?’
‘Of course I was, the same as you were proud of me.’
‘And that’s important, isn’t it, to do the right thing, to protect people?’
‘That’s why you did it.’
‘But what if trying to protect the community means doing the wrong thing?’
She eyed him closely before saying, ‘That’s different. You start by doing the right thing and see where it leads you.’
‘But what if it threatens what we have?’
‘Andrew, what is it? Are you being blackmailed or threatened?’
He shook his head. ‘Just thinking.’
‘Well, don’t, if it means you forget about what is most important to you. Your family, what we have. No, damn, what we are, and what your children think of you. I don’t know what’s troubling you, what old case has jumped up again, but what is in the past can’t be changed. I get it, policing got rough sometimes, but it was a different time. If you did the wrong thing, even if for the right reason, it’s too late to change it. You can’t go back.’
‘And what if other people are trying to do it, to look again at the past?’
She sat forward, her gaze harder now. ‘You decide what’s the most important. Righting some long-forgotten wrong, or protecting those closest to you, because all you have left is us.’
He stood and went to take off his coat. ‘Thank you. Your pupils must have got a lot from you. And our kids.’
‘Andrew, what’s going on?’
‘Nothing. Just looking back.’
As he closed the door and listened as the television went back on, he wondered at his next step. Dare he take it?
More importantly, dare he not take it?