Dr Young was the newly appointed Eden Valley pathologist, currently assisting Dr Juliana van Doon so that she could work part-time as she coasted towards retirement. Cooper’s relationship with Chloe Young had been progressing slowly but steadily. But that was fine with him. There was no rush.
Young had come to the house in Foolow in her yellow VW Beetle. He was always surprised how different she looked outside the mortuary. The first time they’d met off duty he’d hardly recognised her. That was the way it could be with people you only saw in particular circumstances, in a specific role or location. They became one-dimensional figures, and it was disorienting to find they were real people with unexpected aspects to their lives. Chloe Young had her hair down, which instantly transformed her from the professional in a mortuary apron and scrubs, with a complicated hair knot tied up under a hat. He liked the way she dressed too, casual but stylish.
‘So they do let you have some time off?’ said Young when he let her into the cottage.
‘Of course. Why wouldn’t they?’
‘Well, you hear stories about police officers. Dedicated to their work, always on call. They say they’re married to their jobs. You know what I mean.’
‘Not me,’ said Cooper.
‘Good.’
While he put on his jacket, Cooper sneaked a glance at his phone. No messages, so far at least. Perhaps he should turn it off for the evening? But he hesitated. Well, he’d set it to vibrate on silent anyway.
‘Do you have a murder case, or is it just a missing person?’
‘Well, we have no body,’ said Cooper. ‘Correction — no bodies.’
‘And you’re attempting to find them?’
‘Of course.’
‘So you’re trying to make work for me after all. I see.’
Cooper’s Toyota was parked on a bit of rough ground at the back of the cottage, while Young’s Beetle was on the street.
‘I’ll drive,’ she said cheerfully, jangling her keys.
He wanted to argue, but it obviously made sense. The VW felt a bit cramped when he got into the passenger seat, but it was okay. At least, it was okay until he discovered how fast Young liked to drive. He was jerked back against the seat as she took off through Foolow and swung into Bradshaw Lane.
‘There’s a speed limit, you know,’ he said.
‘But no speed cameras. And no patrolling policemen, because they’re too short-staffed.’ She glanced at him. ‘Not ones who are on duty, anyway.’
‘Just make sure we get there in one piece.’
‘I’m an exceptionally good driver.’
‘If you say so.’
Luckily, it wasn’t far to the Barrel Inn. And like so many Peak District roads at a quiet time of the year, they met hardly any traffic coming the other way. A tractor or a milk tanker on a narrow bend would have been a different matter. They might never have made it to the pub at all.
Dr Young was no more than five feet six, possibly less, with hair that was dark, almost black. Cooper recalled the first time he’d met her, the sheen of it catching the light reflected from the stainless steel dissecting table, the French twist knotting it at the back of her head to keep it away from her face.
And then, when she’d removed a pair of protective glasses, he’d seen those cool green eyes, verging on hazel. She was so different from his idea of what pathologists looked like, such a contrast to the lean, hunched posture, sharp eye and disapproving expression of Dr Juliana van Doon that the image had stayed with him for some time, until he was able to meet her again.
Chloe Young was originally a Sheffielder, but after graduating from Cambridge she’d done postgraduate work and had a spell in a research position in London. Then she came back north to work in Sheffield. When he met her that first time, Young had been taking part in a neurobiological study of suicidal behaviour. She was present in Dr van Doon’s mortuary to take samples of brain tissue from suicide victims before they degraded too much to be useful in her study. It hardly sounded like a promising start to a relationship. What Cooper remembered most was when she later described her career up to date and said: ‘I don’t know where I’ll end up next.’ Yet here she was, still working in Edendale. Something must be keeping her here.
She seemed quite unselfconscious and at ease with him, as if she’d known him all her life. For a moment, Cooper wondered whether she did know him. Perhaps they’d encountered each other at some time in the past and he’d forgotten — though she was the sort of person he was unlikely to forget.
She’d told him that the Peak District was one of the factors that had encouraged her to return to the north. He liked that. Cooper always imagined that if he ever had to leave the area for some reason, it would be these hills and valleys and moors that would draw him back as irresistibly as a magnet. Young had said that she used to feel it was her own personal national park. That was the way he felt too.
‘What would you like?’ he said when they got to the bar at the Barrel.
‘Vodka,’ she said.
‘And?’
‘Just vodka. It’s like a little black dress. It goes with anything.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I’ll only have one. Got to be careful with a police officer in the car.’
They found a table by the window and Cooper wondered how to start the conversation. He didn’t know her well enough to ask after her family, or to have any idea what else was likely to be going on in her life except a constant flow of dead bodies through the mortuary.
But Young had the advantage of him.
‘How’s Carol?’ she said. ‘I haven’t seen her for a while.’
‘Oh, she’s fine. Busy, you know. Like we all are.’
It was an awkward reminder that Carol Villiers had known Chloe Young long before he’d met her. Villiers had even been out with her brother for a few months, many years ago. The Young family were from Sheffield, a city that sat right on the Yorkshire edge of the Peak District. It was Villiers who Chloe had got in touch with when she came to work in the Eden Valley. It had always bothered Cooper that they might talk about him to each other. But you had to have trust, didn’t you? That was important, both to his connection with Chloe Young and in his working relationship with Villiers.
‘Have you decided what you’re going to do next? Will you take the full-time vacancy when Dr van Doon retires?’
‘It’s one of the options,’ she said.
It wasn’t like her to be coy. Was she just teasing him? Now, that he didn’t like much. He was aware that Chloe Young was extremely well educated. ‘Qualifications coming out of her ears’ was the way Villiers had expressed it.
Cooper had managed a few A levels before he joined Derbyshire Constabulary. He’d watched the influx of younger graduates over the years with some uneasiness. He knew it didn’t make any real sense, but he still felt a twinge of inferiority when he was talking to people with that level of education. Chloe Young’s qualifications were part of who she was. She was a forensic pathologist with a specialty in neurobiology and the study of brain tissue samples. He was a copper who’d managed to work his way up to inspector rank.
‘You’ve never gone far away from Edendale, have you?’ said Young. ‘Not for any period of time.’
‘I’ve never wanted to,’ said Cooper.
‘So you must have seen a lot of changes in this area.’
Cooper laughed. ‘Changes? I’ve seen things change so much. When I took my A levels at Eden Valley College and joined the police service, life looked very positive, and I don’t think it was just my age. Now, it’s very different.’
Young looked serious. ‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, there are so many things. I see people working really hard, but existing on wages so low that they couldn’t afford the lifestyle they once expected, people who can’t afford to pay a mortgage without doing at least two jobs. Young people can’t get on the housing ladder, tenants are struggling with soaring rents. Disabled people lie awake at night worrying about their benefits being cut. The unemployed on jobseeker’s allowance feel they’re being pushed from pillar to post to avoid being sanctioned. I meet all these people in my job.’