Tony patted my shoulder. “Come on.”
Once we were back in the car and buckled up, I let out a slow breath. “Sometimes I wish I was a bloke. Nobody’s scared of a five-foot-six woman.”
“Hey, I’ve seen you spar. You could take down half the men at the station before they’ve even had a chance to blink. Everybody should be scared of you,” said Tony with a grin.
I shot him a small smile. It was true. I practiced eskrima twice a week, which kept me fit and well able to defend myself should the need arise. And in my line of work, the need usually arose.
“So, how do you know that one?” Tony went on, looking back at Lee’s house while I put the car in gear.
“My flatmate used to go out with his brother. She learned her lesson.” And he makes me feel things, my conscience added, things I have no business feeling.
Tony pursed his lips and looked out the window at the less-than-pleasing scenery. I thought where I lived was rough, but this place was pretty dire.
“I imagine she did,” he said. “Families like that, Karla, they have trouble stamped all over them.”
I hated that he was right. “Tell me about it,” I sighed, and then we headed out to deal with a traffic accident on the A10.
***
When I finally clocked out that night, I had nothing on my mind other than a nice, long soak in the tub and maybe some Chinese takeaway. Unfortunately, my happy thoughts were interrupted by Detective Inspector Katherine Jennings. If a person could be the equivalent of getting shit on by seagulls, then it was DI Jennings. I bumped into her on my way out of the station, and I mean I literally bumped right into her. Damn Lee Cross with his cheeky handsome smiles and probing eyes taking up all my thoughts.
“Watch where you’re going, Sheehan, for Christ’s sake,” she snapped.
Katherine had it in for me, big time. I knew it had something to do with an old feud between her and my dad. Apparently, he’d called her a no-account, dried-up old cunt during a particularly brutal argument when they’d been working on the same case together years ago, but if you asked me, there was more to it than that. Anyhow, thanks to my dear old dad, she now despised the very ground I walked on, and had done everything in her power to make my job difficult since the moment I started working under her.
“Sorry, ma’am, I’ll watch where I’m going next time.” My words were said plainly, with absolutely no sarcasm or sass, but Katherine had a knack for detecting aggression where there was none.
“Take that tone with me again, Constable, and I’ll have you transferred to some shithole district in the back arse of nowhere before you even have time to go crying to Daddy.”
Not once in my life had I ever gone “crying to Daddy,” but I let her have the final word. It was the only way to keep from incurring more of her wrath. Nodding, I internalised my frustration and quietly turned on my heel, continuing on my way.
When I got home, I found Alexis lying face down on the couch while a soap opera played on the TV. I didn’t know whether to laugh or worry. This moping behaviour had been a regular occurrence with her ever since the love of her life had disappeared off the face of the planet. Long story short, she’d had an affair with her boss, and he’d done a runner after beating the living daylights out of his own father, almost killing him.
Never let it be said that our lives were uneventful.
“Man, the couch must smell really good,” I commented dryly as I came in and set the bag of Chinese takeout on the coffee table. “Can I get a whiff? I love a good couch-sniffing session.”
“I’m not sniffing the couch,” Alexis whined before sitting up and shooting me the stink-eye. “I was trying to convey my complete and utter sense of loneliness and despair. You know, like performance art, but shittier.”
I laughed and gave her shoulder a small squeeze. Her heart had been through the ringer the past few months, so I could understand where she was coming from. “Seriously, though, how are you feeling?”
“Crap, like usual.”
“I’ve always loved you for your honesty, you know that?” I got a hint of a smile out of her as her eyes wandered to the bag.
“And I’ve always loved you because you’re the kind of class act who brings food home after a shift. Can I?”
“Have at it.”
She picked up the bag and brought it over to the kitchen, finding plates and dishing out the chow mein. I kicked off my boots and went into my bedroom to change out of my uniform. When I returned Alexis was back on the couch, digging into her food while a plate had been set out for me.
“So, how was work?” she asked between mouthfuls.
“It was fine until I bumped into DI Jennings on my way home. I swear, she has this way of draining happiness out of me like nobody else.” I made the decision not to tell Alexis about my run-in with Lee, and I wasn’t quite sure why.
She held her fork in mid-air and let out a long sigh. “I’m telling you, Karla, you need to close tabs on this bitch. Otherwise, she’s just going to keep on pushing until you snap, and then she’ll have a real reason to fire you.”
I stared at her. “Close tabs?”
She stared back at me. “You know, like on the computer.”
I failed to suppress a chuckle. “I know what it means, Lexie. I’ve just never heard it used quite in that context before.”
“Well, you’ve heard it now. You need to shut her down. You’ve never done anything to warrant her behaviour, and it gets on my tits that you’re just sitting back and taking it. No friend of mine takes shit.”
I chuckled some more. She narrowed her gaze. I sighed.
“Look, I get where you’re coming from, but I just feel like my dad did something really horrible to her that nobody else knows about. I wouldn’t put it past him. I mean, she’s hardly a ray of sunshine with everyone else, but with me it’s real hatred. You don’t feel that level of vitriol toward someone without good reason.”
“You should ask your dad about it. Get it all out in the open.”
“Um, have you met my father lately? He’s hardly the sharing kind.”
Alexis shot me an understanding frown, and we finished our food in companionable silence. I was still thinking about Dad later on as I ran a bath and climbed in for a long soak. Both my parents were born and raised in North Belfast during the height of the Troubles. Let’s just say, being a Protestant in Northern Ireland during the 1960s and ’70s did not equal a harmonious existence. My dad worked for the PSNI up until the mid-eighties before being offered a job with the Metropolitan Police here in London. I was born about two years after the move, the only child of a couple where the power mechanics were greatly uneven.
My father was six foot four, lean and mean, with brown hair and blue eyes. My mother was five foot nothing, small and timid, with red hair and brown eyes. At five foot six, tough but sensitive, with red hair and blue eyes, I was an even mix of the both of them.
My mother was my father’s doormat, and the sad thing was that she seemed quite happy to continue in that way. Never in my life could I remember a time when I wanted to be like her. And never in my life could I remember a time when I wanted to be like my dad. I know, funny that I say it, since I seemingly followed in his footsteps and joined the police. The thing is, I never joined the police to please him. I joined the police because I wanted to help people, but more importantly, I joined to prove him wrong.
As a kid I was a tomboy, idolising characters like Sarah Connor and Ellen Ripley, yet every day I’d have to sit around and listen to my dad say stuff like, They shouldn’t let women on the force, they’re too weak-willed, and, What’s the point of a female police officer? Strength-wise, she’ll never be able to take down a man.
At the same time I had to deal with his constant criticisms of both me and Mum, and somehow that transformed into a deep-seated need to do everything in my power to prove my worth. The only problem with that? Katherine Jennings hated my guts, and as long as she did, I was never going to make sergeant. Seven years on the force and I was still a lowly constable. Needless to say, Dad was over the fucking moon that I’d never managed to rise in rank. It proved him right.