Chapter Twelve

 

Emma knocked at the familiar door. Every time she stood on the step she was transported back to the first time she'd called at his house. The night that she had destroyed his world. She couldn't help but wonder when or if he might recover his memories. But she was here now purely to be bloody-minded and to prove to herself that she wouldn't abandon her friends.

When Jem let her in, she recognised the feeling in the house. Haines was still in his uniform of tracksuit trousers and T-shirt.

'Emma, lovely to see you again.' As usual he was pleased to see her. 'Can you put up with another film?'

'No, not today,' she replied. 'I had another idea. When did you last leave the house?'

'What do you mean? I went up the hospital last week. Standard neurological follow-up appointment.'

'I drove him,' Jem said. 'What are you getting at?'

'Apart from hospital appointments, then. When did you last go out?'

Haines looked a little lost as if there was something he didn't want to admit.

'Come on! Let's at least go out down the café and get a coffee. You won't get any better if you're just sitting around here all day.'

Rob and Jem glanced at each other. Emma had no idea what unspoken message passed between them but there was clearly some secret that she wasn't being let in on.

'You can't tell me what to do. I'm your--'

'What are you, Rob?' Emma asked. He looked momentarily confused. 'I know you outrank me and you're still on the payroll.'

'What then, DC Angel?'

'Well, you have been replaced at work and I'm off work this evening. So I'm just here as a friend,' she said. She then looked at Jem and added, 'A friend of the family.'

Rob considered her argument. 'Like you said, I'm still a DCI, still on the payroll. But even as a friend you can't bully me out of my own home.'

There was a tense stand-off, broken by Jem. 'Oh, for God's sake, Rob. You are so stubborn. Go and have a shower, get some proper clothes on. We're going out.'

'But what about--'

'We'll handle that. You'll have me and Emma with you. We won't leave your side. It'll be okay.' She laid a hand on his arm and looked into his eyes. 'Trust me, Rob. It's taken Emma to make me see. We need to get back to some sort of normal.'

'Normal? You don't know if there'll ever be any sort of normal. The doctors are always hedging their bets with brain injuries.' He turned to confide in Emma. 'They say that the brain heals itself over time but can never give any specifics of what will repair or how long it will take.' He paused and took a breath. The two women were resolute, unmoved by his outburst. 'Stubborn I may be, but I know when I'm beaten.'

He stomped off upstairs to get ready to go out.

'What's the big secret?' Emma asked. 'Why doesn't he want to go out?'

'It's not really my place to say,' Jem replied. Then, seeing this wasn't enough of an answer, she continued. 'I will tell you, in broad terms, this injury has knocked his confidence. You know his moods and his memory aren't what they were. You promise me that you won't leave him alone?'

'We're only going out for coffee! It's not like a drug raid or anything.'

'I know. But promise me, okay. He needs support. I won't have this going wrong and setting him back.'

Jem drove the three of them to a pub in a village just to the south of Bradwick on the coast. It was somewhere they'd never been to before. Emma wondered why this fact was important enough for her to mention.

Finally they were sat at a table, making the most awkward small talk. Both Rob and Jem looked around all the time, watching every time a new customer walked in.

When Jem went to the loo, Emma seized her chance. 'Come on then, boss. What's the problem? You're here, with cake and coffee. But you and Jem are so jumpy. I've interviewed first time drug dealers who were calmer than you two.'

'I don't know what you mean,' Rob said to the tabletop.

'Is it some kind of PTSD thing? I know that I've been offered leaflets and counselling because I fought someone who was trying to kill me and witnessed a murder.' All she got back was sullen silence. 'Are you worried because you trusted Billy King and Glen Hargreaves and the whole thing blew up in your face? Now you don't know who to trust?'

'No, it's nothing like that.'

Emma tapped the table edge in frustration. 'I want to be a good friend to you,' she said. 'You trusted me before. And I've trusted you – told you what happened when no one else would. But I can't help you if you don't talk to me. Jem dropped hints but she said it's down to you. Your decision.' With an instinct born of hours spent in interview suites, she then went quiet.

Eventually, Rob Haines gave a rueful smile. He knew the tactic and it was working. 'I can't recognise faces,' he said simply.

'What do you mean? Since the accident?'

'Yes. I woke up in hospital and Jem was there holding my hand, sat by the bed. She had long dark curly hair, and the same clothes I remember, but her face.' He stopped and stared off into space, frustrated.

'You couldn't see her face?' Emma frowned as she tried to understand.

'No, it's not like that. I can see her eyes, nose, mouth but it's like they're all separate. I can't make them all fit together and then recognise that face as belonging to Jem.'

'But you were all right when I came round, weren't you?'

'You're forgetting that I may be on sick leave, but I'm still a detective.' He looked up as he remembered the day. 'My memory is a bit slow, but it's all there. When Jem opened the door, she said your name and that you were from my work. I can remember you, who you are, what your hairstyle is, how you talk – everything about you apart from your face.'

'So, if another short woman with blonde hair had walked in after Jem opened the door?'

'I'd have assumed it was you until she spoke,' Rob said, shaking his head.

A silence hung over the table and lasted until Jem returned.

'You told her then? Good. Maybe she can talk some sense into you about this.'

Emma picked up the hint. 'Have you told the doctor yet?'

'Told him what? I had a bang on the head and it knocked the ability to recognise people clean out. They already think I'm crazy because I had a concussion.'

Emma sighed, used to his intransigence. She got out her phone, typed in "can't recognise faces head injury" then slid the results across to Rob. 'Look. Over fifty million hits in Google. From the charity Headway and the NHS. It's a thing, and it can be dealt with.'

He took the phone and tapped a few times, like a sulky child. 'Doesn't look curable.' He looked from Emma to Jem and recognised when he was beaten. 'I'll make an appointment with the GP and he can refer me to a shrink.' He sounded thoroughly miserable. 'Actually, first I'll talk to my police fed rep.' Both of the women looked confused, so he continued. 'Photographs of people don't look like them any more. When I got home there were all these photos on the mantelpiece. Our wedding, Jem holding each of the girls in hospital, that kind of thing. Except to me, they could've been cut out of a magazine.' He shook his head, unaware of how upset Jem was looking. 'Thing is, I'm a policeman. You could show me a mugshot of Bradwick's most wanted and five minutes later I'd sit next to them in the pub, without a clue. If this goes on my medical record, I can't be a policeman. It's that simple.'

Emma and Jem looked shocked.

'Oh, come on! My career is over anyway. Between being too close to Billy King, and having Glen Hargreaves under my command, I'd be a fool to go back to work. Professional Standards would eat me for breakfast. Even if I did survive that, I would never get another promotion. Why do you think none of the rest of the team have been round to see me? They've all been done for the drugs and money that went missing. No, all I've got to do is figure out a proper exit strategy. And actually a medical reason might be just the thing I need.' He looked thoughtful.

'Yeah, but really, Rob, can you get out from under this?' Jem asked. 'I mean, I know you had your reasons, and we've had our arguments over that. But will they really let you go, keep your pension, all of it?'

'There shouldn't be but there is a definite ranking system of corrupt officers.' Rob leant in closer to make sure he wasn't overheard. 'But I was fairly low level.' Both women were shocked. 'No one I arrested didn't deserve it. It's not like those cases where they bang some bugger up for a murder they didn't do or even shoot someone on suspicion of being a terrorist.' He paused to think. 'I will admit that maybe some people who should've been arrested were given an easier time. But anyway. there isn't anyone left who can testify.'

Emma was shocked at how easily he admitted his guilt while she was struggling to live with her own. She had given the order that had led to the whole operation going wrong. But until Rob's memories returned there was nothing she could do.

'What? Is it the bang on the head thing again?' Rob asked, looking between Jem and Emma. Emma frowned at him, asking a question without words. 'You know about the frontal lobe injury, right? My inhibitions are still a bit lower. It will gradually heal over time. But until then, you'll have to put up with me being a bit blunt.'

There was a slight pause as they all thought over what to say next. Finally, Emma broke the silence. 'Sir, I do have one question.'

'What's that, then?'

'Well, you always spoke your mind and told things the way they were. So if this does fix itself, well, how would anyone ever know?'

There was a stunned silence before Rob roared with laughter and actually pounded the table with his hand. When he saw the other two looking at each other nervously, he reined it in a bit. People on other tables had started looking over.

'Sorry!' Rob pointed at his head and shrugged. After a moment of silence, he picked up the thread again. 'Emma, how are you getting on with the new department? How's Slater shaping up?'

'He's still not being imaginative enough to crack this case.'

'That figures. I've been thinking about why he was chosen to replace me. For a start, he's squeaky clean, never put a foot wrong. Dead straight. And, of course, he'll be in the right place to follow the paper trail and see if he can find where we hid the money. See if we left any clues in the office.'

'This isn't a game, you know!' Emma was outraged at the cavalier way he was treating things.

'Oh, I know it isn't. It's also hard to take it at all seriously sat on the sidelines. My turn is over, really, and it sticks in my gullet. I did what I could to make this town safer, and now I get to watch it all fall apart as they'll be more concerned with chasing coppers and following the letter of the rules!'

Another awkward silence followed this pronouncement.

'Listen, both of you. This has been good to get out of the house.' He gazed around the crowded pub. For the first time, Emma saw an edge of fear in his eyes. She knew then that he was wondering if there was anyone there who he knew but didn't recognise. 'But the truth is that I need to get home.'

Emma looked at Jem with a question. 'Rob gets more tired now. He's meant to do stuff like this, push himself, but the truth of it is that his brain is rewiring itself and recovering from injury. We had better get home.'