Page 106 of Maybe Tomorrow

‘Of course,’ she said, looking back down at the newspaper article, though her enthusiasm for it had waned.

‘George has let me have his penthouse apartment for the weekend, overlooking the Thames. I thought a king-size bed, a sunken bathtub and all the luxuries would help us relax. It might just be what we need to help us try for a baby.’

‘Sorry?’ She looked up.

‘I thought we could try for a baby again. I’ve been wearing these baggy boxer shorts for over a month now. Fingers crossed that might have freed something up down there.’

‘Right,’ she smiled. ‘Yes. Of course. I’m just going to jump in the shower.’

‘I’ve made you a tea.’

‘I completely lost track of time.’

Jennifer ran out of the kitchen and took the stairs two at a time. From the bottom of her wardrobe, she took out her handbag, rummaged inside, and found the squashed box of contraceptive pills she hid at the bottom. She snapped one out of the blister pack and dry-swallowed it. She did want a child. She would love to be a mother, but right now, her career was far more important.

ChapterForty-Six

Detective Sergeant Freya Sloan walked into the open-plan office of CID and was greeted by a sea of sombre faces. She stopped dead in her tracks. Something had happened.

‘Have you heard?’ DS Ritter asked.

‘Heard what?’

‘Henry Bishop died last night.’

Freya’s mouth fell open. It wasn’t news she’d been expecting, but she was hardly surprised. Former DI Henry Bishop had been forced into early retirement eighteen months ago due to ill health. Thirty years of heavy drinking and chain-smoking had finally caught up with him to the point that he wasn’t fit for work. Yet, despite being pensioned off, he still came into the office on a regular basis, to keep an eye on his lads, as he liked to call it.

‘What happened?’ she asked.

‘We think he must have fallen asleep with a cigarette still lit.’

Freya frowned. ‘You don’t mean…?’

‘The whole house was gutted.’

‘Oh my God!’ she exclaimed, slapping a hand to her mouth. She didn’t like Henry Bishop one iota. He was a horrible man and there were many times when she saw him strutting around the corridors with a fag dangling from his bottom lip, struggling to hide a chesty cough, that she hoped he’d keel over so that order and method could be restored to the station, but she would never have wished him such a violent death.

‘We were thinking of having a whip-round.’

‘Yes. Sure. Let me know how much you want, and I’ll pop to the post office at dinner time.’

Freya headed for her desk slowly. She was struggling to take in what she’d heard. She sat down, dazed, and stared into space. She didn’t notice Eddie Ritter come up to her with a mug of tea.

‘I’ve put a sugar in it. Helps with shock,’ he said.

‘Thanks.’ She picked up the mug and wrapped her hands around it. ‘It really is a shock, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. I mean, we all knew he didn’t live the healthiest lifestyle, but nobody expected him to go like that.’

‘No. That’s horrible.’

‘Are you all right?’ he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

‘Yes. It’s just going to take some time to sink in.’

‘Are you going to phone Chris and tell him?’

‘I suppose I better had, yes.’