Ottey and her mother, Cherish, were washing up after supper that night when there was a sudden scream from the girls’ bedroom down the corridor. This was followed by raised voices in a dispute of world-ending proportions. Ottey went to the kitchen door and shouted.
‘Whatever it is, it stops now!’
A silence followed. Ottey’s word was obviously law in this household.
‘Impressive. You never shut up when I yelled at you like that,’ said Cherish.
‘I know. Sorry about that,’ Ottey replied.
‘Everything all right?’
‘Yeah, just tired.’
‘Work?’
‘Yep.’
‘That man, he exhausts you,’ Cherish commented.
‘Who? My boss?’
‘No, George.’
‘He does not. He’s fine. Leave poor old George alone,’ Ottey protested, but she wondered whether there was just an element of truth in it. Probably not. In many ways he made her work life much easier, he was that good.
‘That poor monk. I’ve been praying for you,’ said Cherish.
‘Thanks, no wonder we’re making such good progress.’
Cherish was about to object when another deafening scream careered through the small flat, bouncing off the walls. Ottey was back at the kitchen door.
‘Clara! Sitting room, now!’ she yelled. This was followed by a loud groan of indignant injustice and the slamming of a bedroom door.
‘It’s time you moved, sweetie. Clara’s too old to be sharing a bedroom with her sister,’ said Cherish.
‘I know,’ Ottey agreed.
‘Then stop putting it off and get on with it.’
‘I’m not. I’m busy at work.’
‘And do you see that changing any time soon? No,’ she said, answering her own question. ‘So you might as well get on with it now because you’re always going to be busy. Unless you want to stay here for the rest of your working life.’
‘It’s easy for you to say.’
‘And it’s easy for you to do nothing. You want to get yourself that promotion. More money and less work, I’d bet.’
Ottey said nothing but her mother was right, to an extent. There was certainly more money and more control of your hours with a higher rank.
‘Ideally, I’d like a house. But I don’t know if I can afford it.’
‘Well, you won’t know if you don’t look, honey.’
That night she lay in bed wondering about what her mother had said. She remembered Det. Supt Heather Matthews talking to her about promotion the previous year. Maybe now was the time to push instead of just sitting back and waiting to see what happened.