She would never forget how she’d felt that day and even the memory of what had followed couldn’t entirely tarnish the joy of their first encounter. She hoped she’d feel that way again, but right now there was no sign of romance on the horizon, and she wasn’t sure she wanted it after running into Ben. Seeing him had reminded her just how much she’d been hurt and she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to endure such pain again. Not now, with the rest of her life in tatters. She focused instead on her investigation into the death of Elizabeth Asha.
It was 8 p.m. on a Tuesday and people were already wasted. Harri swerved to avoid a couple who staggered along the pavement. The glassy-eyed woman had wild red hair that came to her waist and she was grinning as a puckish man slurred bawdy propositions at her. His arm was coiled around her shoulder and he clasped her possessively. Harri longed for love, though she knew it wouldn’t come from a meaningless encounter with someone she didn’t care about. But at least she’d have companionship, and maybe that was the next best thing? Even companionship, however fleeting, seemed unattainable. Men used to approach her, but they didn’t any more. Maybe they could sense the cop in her? Maybe they could tell she was looking for something deeper than a night of casual lust? Or perhaps they could tell she was damaged?
She didn’t think herself beautiful, but she knew she wasn’t unattractive. Her light-brown hair looked good when she brushed it, her skin was clear and her features were small and refined. Only her eyes were big, and they had been described as ‘endless’ by a pathetically hopeless romantic she’d dated for a while back in London, and ‘like Betty Boo’s’ by an unimaginative dolt during a particularly hostile break-up. She wasn’t sure whether she had it, but she definitely didn’t flaunt it if she did, and years of police work had taught her the importance of sensible clothes for chasing down a suspect or winning a street fight. She was used to being anonymous, and over time anonymity had become an addiction. She wasn’t sure she had the confidence for attention any more. Another reason she’d liked Ben so much. He’d seemed to value her as a person and hadn’t just been after her body. As it turned out, though, he hadn’t been after her at all.
She drew a couple of glances when she entered the Moon on the Hill, a busy, modern pub on the outskirts of Hanley. Most of the people who’d looked at her returned to their conversations immediately, but three sets of eyes stayed on her as she pushed her way through the crowd. They belonged to Neil Watson, Ian Romney and Ishan Juneja, her former colleagues. Watson and Romney nudged their neighbours, and soon all eight men, police detectives from Hanley, were eyeing her. Sabih Khan was the last to notice her arrival, and she thought there was a flash of embarrassment as he hurried towards her.
She nodded at the group, but only Juneja and Watson replied in kind. The responses from the others ranged from impassive to cold.
‘So, this is what it feels like to be a civilian,’ Harri said as she and Sabih met and made a gap in the crowd. ‘Frosty.’
‘Don’t be silly, H,’ Sabih replied. ‘It’s just a little odd, that’s all. Why don’t you join us?’
‘I don’t think that would be a good idea. I’m the awkward silence, the knowing look, the bad smell no one wants lingering.’
‘You’re so dramatic.’
‘Tell me I’m wrong.’
Sabih hesitated, and Harri scoffed.
‘I just came to ask a favour,’ she said. ‘See what you can find out about these three.’
She handed Sabih a piece of paper, which he examined.
‘Benjamin Elmys, David Asha and Elizabeth Asha,’ he observed. ‘Ben Elmys? Isn’t that the name of the guy you dated?’
‘I need you to do this,’ Harri replied, ignoring the question.
‘It had better not get me into trouble,’ Sabih remarked.
‘It won’t.’
‘I’ll call you.’
‘Thanks,’ Harri replied. ‘Tell the lads I said hi. I know it will mean a lot to them.’
Sabih smiled, and she flashed one of her own before she left the pub.
Sadness nagged at her as she started down the street. She missed the camaraderie, the laughs, the feeling she was part of something more than herself. She hadn’t had much of a social life, and her colleagues and job had filled the gap. Or maybe the immersive life she’d lived as a police officer had left no space for anything else? Either way, she felt the loss keenly. She’d once considered those men her friends, and even though none of them had openly shunned her just now, they hadn’t embraced her either. Only Sabih had remained truly loyal, but maybe he felt he had to, given what she’d sacrificed for him. No matter what happened, things could never be as they were. She was an outsider now.
Her car was parked on Etruscan Street, but as she approached the corner, she heard a noise coming from a service alleyway that ran parallel with the side road. She glanced down the alley and saw Puck and Red, the drunk couple she’d passed. They were having sex against a graffiti-covered industrial bin. The man had his back to her, but Red caught sight of Harri watching. Her eyes flashed in the darkness, as though she delighted in being seen. Did she think Harri was jealous?
Harri blushed and ran on, wondering if on some level she was.