Wendy was glad that the brief greetings and conversations hadn't got past 'hello' and on to 'how are you?' that Tuesday morning as she wasn't entirely sure what her answer would be. She felt very little, caught somewhere between happiness, despair, joy and desperation.
Her state of mind was helped little by a particularly energetic and brash DCI Culverhouse who was now sauntering over towards her desk.
‘Knight. Your arse, my office, now.’
Not one to turn down a polite request, Wendy rose from her chair and followed Culverhouse into his office. The door closed with a click and Culverhouse turned and perched himself on the edge of his desk.
‘Oh, you brought the rest of you too. Never mind.’
‘You wanted to see me, guv,’ Wendy said, ignoring his attempts at a joke.
‘I did. Steve said you were a bit down in the dumps.’
‘He what?’ she said in disbelief. ‘I’m fine, guv, really.’
‘No, I mean what I'm saying is you're probably likely to be a bit mardy, aren't you?’
‘What? Why?’
‘Well, the Michael stuff.’
‘Are you trying to tell me that, as a kind and caring man, you completely understand that I might be psychologically affected by the fact that my brother turned out to be a serial killer, murdered my boyfriend and then tried to kill me?’
‘I wouldn't have put it in quite such a poofy way, no.’
‘Well I'm not. I'm fine.’
‘You might think so, but no-one else does, Knight. Listen, I've booked you in to speak to that shrink in Counselling. Maybe she can help you sort your head out a bit.’
‘My head doesn't need sorting out, guv. I just want to get on with my work.’
‘Well you're not doing much work sat there staring into space and taking evenings off, are you?’
‘I’ve had other stuff on my mind,’ Wendy said, averting her eyes.
‘Other than a homicidal brother and a brutally murdered ex-partner? Your mind works wonders sometimes, Knight.’
Wendy sighed. She knew she was going to have to tell him. It would probably make matters worse, but she didn’t have much choice.
She sighed.
‘I’m pregnant.’