Daniels drove away from Corbridge with a heavy heart, pained by David and Elsie’s loss. She envied those who were looking forward to spending Christmas with their families, exchanging gifts, partying, making the most of precious time off. Without any of those distractions, she planned to throw herself into her work. But first she had to see Bright – and she wasn’t looking forward to it.
She found him in the pub where they’d agreed to meet. He was too consumed in his own darkness to notice that she was also grieving: for Sarah, for David and Elsie Short – for a lost relationship of her own. Although he hadn’t said as much, she was sure he suspected she was in some kind of trouble.
They talked about Stella in terms they never had before. Daniels thought it curious how death seemed to bring out the little anecdotes, the secrets, the joys, the pain, the closeness – or lack of it – people had shared with the recently departed. On the outside, at least, his suffering was over. He seemed to be holding up well, maintaining a stoical veneer, but deep down she knew he was hurting and blaming himself all over again. When he abruptly changed the subject, it was obvious he’d said all he could bear to on the subject of his late wife.
‘How did it go with David and Elsie?’ he said.
‘Not good,’ she told him, adding that she planned to revisit their daughter’s case.
She was taken aback by the flare of anger this aroused in him. It was, after all, still a ‘live’ case, with a dangerous killer still at large.
‘You’ve got to stop obsessing about it, Kate,’ he said, slamming his empty glass down on the table. ‘I told you before, that case is so cold it’s practically frozen. And if that offends you, well, I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is. You have absolutely no evidence that the card in Father Simon’s hand is in any way connected to the other two murders, and until you—’
‘I accept that, I do. But David and Elsie are barely coping. How do you expect them to rest while their daughter’s killer remains on the loose? All I’m asking is a chance to look through the evidence again, for my own sanity as much as theirs. What possible harm—’
‘I appreciate your concern, really I do. But we threw every resource – human and financial – into that incident for months. So, unless new evidence has come to light—’
‘How dare you!’
Kate’s raised voice had most of the other customers turning round to see what was happening.
Bright moved closer and dropped his voice. ‘I’m sorry, Kate. You have to understand that it’s not personal, it’s just the hard reality of being an SIO. Something you’ll have to get used to, sooner rather than later.’
Daniels knew he was right, but less than an hour ago she’d been listening to the Shorts describing how, at times when they least expected it, their grief kept smashing over them like some giant wave that swept everything in its wake, leaving them feeling battered and raw and alone – just as she was feeling now. Bright too, if only he’d acknowledge it.
Why was he always so bloody stubborn?
Why was she?
‘They practically begged me, guv. I’d have thought that you, of all people, would understand their loss, today of all days.’
Bright held his hands up, too drained to argue with her.
‘I’m sorry, guv. I shouldn’t have said that. My apologies.’
‘OK, OK! I know when to quit. Rework the damn case, if you must. But I warn you, there’s no more money, understood? And you take your proper leave first, you hear me? You’re not yourself.’
‘I intend to,’ she lied. ‘And thanks, guv. You’ve no idea what it means to—’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ Bright got to his feet. ‘Same again?’
Without waiting for an answer, he set off for the bar. She wished now she’d never agreed to come for a drink with him; wished she’d called time on what had been a ghastly year for both of them. When he looked over his shoulder, she took out her mobile phone and lifted it to her ear, even though there was nobody on the other end. As he turned his back on her, she pocketed the phone, gathered her bag and coat from the back of her chair, and made a beeline for the bar.
‘Don’t bother with mine, guv.’ She put twenty quid on the counter and gave him a peck on the cheek. ‘I’ll catch you later. I’ve got to go.’
He looked crestfallen. ‘Will I see you . . .’
But she was already halfway through the door.