The Abbottsford Police Chronicles – # 3, a Taste of Honey

 

Police Constable Philippa Mead sat in the Police canteen drinking a coffee and brushing sugar off her uniform trousers and was blissfully unaware that at that precise moment decisions that would change her life forever were being made.

 

Chief inspector Bill Overend was a great bear of a man, but such was his benign disposition you might be confused into thinking he was more of an overstuffed teddy bear, but you would be mistaken, his wits were as sharp as a knife and as a result he was a good copper and he commanded great respect from colleagues and villains alike.

On this particular morning he was on his way to see the Chief Superintendent to discuss replacements.

His squad was already one man down, Chris Blenkin, who was on long term sick leave and was not going to return and another officer, Jenny Hack, who was about to go on maternity leave, so as he entered George Tiplady’s office he did so with some optimism.

 

Philippa, or as she preferred Pippa, was to the untrained eye a rather plain almost emaciated looking girl, stick thin with straight shoulder length blonde hair and as she never wore make up at work, she looked five years older than the twenty-six she actually was.

Off duty she was a bit of a tomboy and wore quite masculine looking clothes leading some to suppose her to be a lesbian.

They couldn’t be more wrong.

Even though her features were plain there was something about her that shone through from within, now whether it was her eyes which were the most stunning green or a smile that could melt the hardest heart it’s difficult to know but, as a result she was never short of a date.

She was a single girl and content to be so for now as she had not yet met the right person, but she was in no hurry.

There was no one special in her life at present.

She drained her coffee and made her way to the muster room for the duty briefing.

 

Overend left the Chief Superintendents office after a less than satisfactory meeting; he did get two out of the three replacements, but not the ones he wanted.

Due to political pressure from above to change the profile of the police he had been lumbered with two officers being fast tracked which meant that the ticked the Home Office boxes but had no experience and were worse than bloody useless.

It had been his wish to promote three PCs up from the ranks from his own station to CID, Pippa Mead among them but it appeared that was not to be, for now at least.

 

He was not the only one in Abbottsford to have had a disappointing outcome Pippa spend her entire shift being the public face of British policing without actually managing to impact crime in any way shape or form but it wasn’t always like that.

 

As luck would have it that night the criminal fraternity were very active in the Abbottsford police district and as the new officers were not due for another four weeks Bill Overend got the three officers he wanted if only on a temporary basis but if he could clear these cases before the new appointees arrived he would have a strong case for keeping the officers he wanted and the fast tracks could go and tick boxes on someone else’s relief.

 

The next morning Pippa, and PCs, Webster and Griffin were instructed they had been seconded to CID for a prolonged period.

This came as a complete surprise to Pippa, who, despite having done several spells in CID in the past, was not aware of having made any significant kind of impact that would merit an extended duty in CID, but all that said she was delighted.

 

Chief inspector Overend was feeling a little smug at his getting his own way even if it might turn out to be short term.

The first order of the day was to place the temporary DC’s to individual teams and then assign those teams to the growing list of cases, which Overend was anxious to make inroads into.

 

Pippa's day just kept getting better she was added to Detective Sgt Tilly Donnally’s team, Donnally was someone she admired very much, if a little scary, she was a fiery thirty-two-year-old red head, who led by example and relied heavily on her instincts, which rarely failed her.

Then she was paired with Detective Constable James Pidd who was a quiet unassuming thirty something man, a very calm and very capable detective not a leader but blessed with a very analytical mind.

But despite his unassuming nature, to everyone’s surprise, including his own, he found himself engaged to Theresa Bennington who was the Granddaughter of the Lord Lieutenant of the county, though such is the nature of the man he was not the sort to use his social position to benefit his career.

“Jimmy and Pippa,” Overend said pausing briefly to consult his notes,

“Clifford’s Biscuits were turned over last night; the owner is on site and is probably not a happy cookie.”

“On our way sir.” Said DC Pidd completely missing the joke, as did Pippa who was already halfway to the door.

 

Jimmy Pidd and Pip Mead had worked together on many occasions in the past and they got on well.

Also, they complimented each other he with his analytical mind and she with her razor sharp instinct and hard graft.

The only bone of contention between them was the driving.

They both hated to drive, this was very unusual, as normally partners fight over who gets the keys.

They had tried a number of ways in the past to determine who got lumbered with the driving such as, Rock, Paper, Scissors, Arm wrestling or tossing a coin but they never worked as they both had a propensity to cheat. 

So they decided the fairest way was one of them would drive there and the other would drive on the return journey.

Today Jimmy Pidd was driving and there was only one thing he hated more than driving and that was driving in the rain.

At least Clifford’s was in Abbottsford’s only about three miles from the station.

Clifford’s biscuits was an old family business established in 1879 by Robert Sebastian Clifford and was currently run by his Great-Great Grandson Donald.

They had moved to their present location in Abbottsford’s in 1928.

The two DC’s presented their warrant cards to the Olympic security guard and were waved through the main gate and directed to the reception.

The broad white building was a great example of the art deco style with its angles, curves and symmetry. 

DC Pidd got out of the car and paused for a moment, despite the rain, in appreciation of the stylish building.

“What a great building.” Said Jimmy.

“Yes it’s very…. white.” Said DC Mead running towards the building.

“Is that all you can find to say about this magnificent structure?”

Said a stunned

“This wonderful example of Art Deco architecture?”

She stopped running, then took a moment to study the façade then said.

“Yes, I stand by my original statement, it’s definitely white”

“You’re a philistine Pip.” Pidd said running after her.

 

Pidd and Mead walked into reception and were greeted by a middle aged balding man in a smart suit.

“Good morning.” He said offering his hand. “Peter Frecknell assistant manager”

“Good morning sir, I’m DC Pidd.” Jimmy said shaking the offered hand.

“And this is DC Mead.” He said gesturing toward Philippa.

“Sir.” She said also shaking hands.

“Would you like to see the scene of the crime now?” He said relishing the change of routine.

“Afterwards I will take you through to the conference room Mr. Clifford would like meet you before you leave.” And he turned and led them up the stairs.

After Pidd and Mead had been shown the suspected point of entry and Mr. Frecknell had given them a tour of the offices, which were in good order save for the power leads and data cables trailing to and from non-existent PC’s, Printers, and Scanners etc.

The factory operated Twenty-four hours a day seven days a week, but the main offices were seldom used after six PM.

They were then covered by CCTV and monitored from the security building located by the main gate.

The offices were patrolled on foot every two hours through the night from eight PM to Eight AM.

The burglary occurred between six and eight. The intruders managed to bypass the alarm system and they were somehow able to override the CCTV feeding back the recorded images to security while they stripped the place bare.

They interviewed staff but no one remembered seeing anything out of the ordinary.

Then they were shown into the conference room to meet Donald Clifford.

Walking into the long grandly decorated room with a huge twenty-four-foot-long mahogany topped conference table they saw an immaculately dressed man of sixty standing at the far end.

“Good morning, officers.” He said walking towards them.

He was wearing a high-quality handmade suit and expensive Italian shoes. His hand made silk tie probably cost more than Mead’s entire ensemble.

“Mr. Clifford?”  Jimmy asked.

“Goodness me no.” He said with a hint of a smile. “My name is Tyler-Moore, Marcus Tyler-Moore.”

“He’s our financial Director.”  Mr. Frecknell elaborated.

“I’m DC Pidd and this is DC Mead.”

He shook hands with them both.

The door opened behind them and a tall, lean shabbily dressed man in his early thirties entered.

He had what looked like a necktie hanging from his trouser pocket and his shirt was un-tucked.

What must once have been a clean white shirt was now smeared with grease and dirt.

His sleeves were rolled up exposing his skinny white arms also smeared with dirt and his trousers were dirty and torn.

He was wiping dirt off his hands with a monogrammed handkerchief.

“I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting.” He said politely. “A problem with one of the machines.”

“Don! We have maintenance people to do that.”  Marcus said in a fatherly way.

“He can’t help interfering.” Marcus said addressing the two officers. “He forgets it’s his company sometimes.”

“I know Marcus but I like to help.”

He inspected his right hand briefly and offered it to Jimmy Pidd to shake.

“Don Clifford.” He said.

“DC Pidd.” Jimmy said. “And this is DC Me…”

“Philippa.” She interrupted. “Mead.”

“What a lovely name.” Don said taking her hand and gazing at her.

“The lover of horses and a sweet honey brew”

Philippa held his gaze and his hand for longer than necessary.

“Coffee?” Marcus broke the spell.

Don and Philippa broke away with a little embarrassment and they both blushed.

“Yes a good idea.” Don Clifford answered.

“Or tea if you would prefer?” Looking at Pip again.

“Please sit down,” He offered with a sweeping Gesture.

“Tea would be very nice thank you Mr. Clifford.” Philippa said almost coyly.

“Please call me Don.”

“Ok Don.” She said and giggled.

Jimmy was amazed he had never seen this side of Pippa before she was being feminine and he’d never heard her giggle before. Either.

He looked at Marcus who shrugged this was obviously new behaviour for Mr Clifford as well.

“Coffee for me please.” Jimmy said as he sat in the closest chair.  

Marcus nodded in Peter Frecknell’s direction and he slipped out through the door almost unnoticed.

After a few minutes he returned, holding open the door while an overweight middle aged woman in a type of uniform and apron pushed a trolley loaded with crockery, tea and coffee pots, milk jug, sugar bowl and a plate of biscuits.

“Thank you Doreen.” Marcus said as she unloaded the trays onto a side table.

“Sir.” She turned and left.

While they drank Jimmy filled them in about bypassing the alarm system and that they managed to override the CCTV and miraculously managed to leave through the main gate right under the nose of Olympic security.

He directed most of his comments to Marcus Tyler-Moore as Mr Clifford’s eyes were continuously being drawn towards Pip and hers to him.

He went on to explain that Scene of Crime officers would be on site soon though he was not hopeful that that would turn up anything as this was a very professional job.

 “If you could provide us with a full inventory of the stolen items as soon as convenient we can have it circulated.” Jimmy said. “And we will be able to give you a crime number for the insurance.”

“Thank you Constable Pidd.” Marcus said.

Jimmy stood up.

“Yes thank you.” Don Clifford tore his attention away from Pip and stood up proffering his hand.

“And thank you also Detective Constable Mead.”

“Yes thank you Philippa.” Don said taking her hand again.

“I think the officers need to be going now Don.”  Marcus said slapping Donald firmly on the back.

He reluctantly let go of Pippa’s hand and they both blushed again.

“You can contact me on this number when you have the list.” Jimmy handed a business card to Marcus.

Pippa handed her card to Donald and to Jimmy’s amazement she giggled again.

 

Philippa and Jimmy didn’t say a word on the short walk back to the car.

But when she walked to the passenger side Jimmy broke the silence.

“Oy Dolly daydream.” He shouted. “You’re driving remember”

She jumped. “Sorry Jimmy I was miles away.”

“I know where you were and who you were with.”

Then she flushed red.   

 

 

Bill Overend was pleased with the general progress being made on all the major enquires and was still quietly confident that his expectations of a timely result before the two new staff members would be foisted upon him.

Jimmy and Pip were exploring the possible involvement of the Security company in the Clifford’s robbery as they have been the common denominator in a series of break ins and for several days had been wading through piles of documents from Olympic Security searching for any patterns that might appear.

 

Although she was enjoying her time in CID Pippa had spent the last two weeks slightly depressed and more than a little bewildered.

She had been awaiting, no expecting, a phone call, from Donald Clifford, she was convinced that they had hit it off, or connected or something and she just couldn’t understand why he hadn’t rang.

This was new territory for Pippa because normally she was not short of admirers though not in any way inundated, most of whom she felt complete indifference.

She was not used to wanting someone to call and to have someone she was attracted to, Fancied even, not to call her was something of a novelty, which she was neither accustomed to nor would wish to become accustomed to.

She had even committed the cardinal sin, something she had never ever considered, had never needed to consider, she had called his office, not once, nor twice but three times.

She was told on all three occasions that he was not available.

Not available! Bloody cheek.

Pippa was a bit of party girl and very good company and she was popular with a large circle of friends but she hadn’t enjoyed herself since she met that bloody biscuit man.

She hadn’t been out at all for the last week.

Bloody, Bloody man.

 

As another week drew to its conclusion Pippa Mead continued to discharge her duties in a state of anxious bewilderment.

He still hadn’t called.

What was wrong with the man?

How could she have got it so wrong?

After all she thought he was besotted with her he really seemed to be, she was mow beginning to think it was merely conceit on her part, to assume that he liked her.

Pippa was certainly besotted with him and that had never happened before, and she wasn’t sure she liked it at all.

She had even taken the unprecedented step of actually going to the factory, on the pretext of furthering police enquires, but in reality to see Donald Clifford only to be told he was not available.

She had never ever been treated so shabbily she thought to herself indignantly and then she chastised herself because realized she was being given a taste of her own medicine.

Should she talk to someone?

Yes, but whom?

Tilly? No far too scary, Gracie possibly, no Jenny, she would talk to Jenny. 

 

Bill Overend and his opposite number John Holt who was the Uniform Inspector were having a drink at the “George” this was by way of an olive branch as John Holt wanted his PC’s back and Bill didn’t want to give them back.

They were good friends and had been for years and it would take a lot more than poaching a few PC’s to drive a wedge between them but they both enjoyed playing the part.

While the two Inspectors were sparring in the pub over her future Pippa Mead was anxiously stalking Jenny Hack through the busy market day streets of Abbottsford.

She had tried several times to approach Jenny at the station but she was frustrated by the constant interruptions, either by someone else butting in or by the telephone ringing.

She even tried to catch her in the car park, as she was leaving for lunch, but Superintendent Tiplady got to her first.

So she was reduced to stalking her like a criminal.

Pippa had followed her to every baby shop in town and then to several chemist shops.

By the time Jenny reached the market stalls Pippa was desperate even though she had no idea what she would say.  

When Jenny stopped at a green grocer’s stall Pippa seized her chance, she waited until Jenny had paid for her fruit and veg and made her move.

“Hi Jenny. Can I help with your bags you look a bit over loaded?”

“Hi. Thanks Pip. I have over done it a bit. It’s a good job I’ve finished.”

Pippa took a few of the heavier bags from her.

“Are you heading back to the car now?” Pip asked.

“Have you finished your shopping?”

“What? Oh yes I didn’t really need anything.”

They began walking towards the car park.

“It was lucky you ran into me I’m not sure I would have made it back to the car on my own.”

Jenny had been aware of Pippa in the office and suspected she was trying to talk to her.

She had even noticed her around town a couple times and looking at her pensive expression she suddenly realized this was not a chance meeting.

The conversation was pretty much one sided for the rest of the five minute walk with Jenny doing the majority of the talking.

When they arrived at the car park they loaded the bags into Jenny’s boot.

After a glance in Pippa’s direction and noticing the pensiveness had not left her face she said.  

“Do you know what I could do with?”

Pippa shook her head.

“A cup of coffee.” She answered. “There’s a café over the road. Do you fancy one?”

“Yes. I’d love one.” Pippa visibly brightened.

Once they were settled at a table Pippa sat fiddling with a napkin and trying to think of what to say and Jenny stirred her coffee while she looked on, while Pippa tortured herself, and smiled to herself.

Finally Jenny could stand it no longer.

“So what’s on your mind Pip?”  

“Eh?” She had an expression on her face like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an approaching car.

“Something’s bothering you, what is it?”

Pippa took a deep breath. 

“Oh Jenny, I’ve been dying to talk to someone.”

“But I feel so silly and I don’t know where to start.”

“At the beginning is a good place.” Jenny said simply.

“Well you know Jimmy and me went to that break in at Clifford’s, a month ago?”

Jenny nodded and sipped her coffee.

“Well we finished up in the conference room and we met.”

“Donald Clifford.” Jenny interrupted.

“Yes. How did you know?” asked Pip.

“Jimmy told me. He said you were smitten.” Jenny smiled broadly. 

“Jimmy?”

“Yes. Jimmy said he was a nice guy. So what’s the problem?”

“He hasn’t called me. That’s the problem. I gave him my card and he hasn’t called.”

 “You did throw away all of those misprinted cards you had? Didn’t you? The one’s with the ACC’s phone number on.”

“Oh God I hadn’t thought of that.” Pippa was horrified.

“Have you called him?”

“Yes several times, I even went there to see him I was told he wasn’t available.”

“I can’t believe he wouldn’t see you or speak to you if he was there. He seemed too nice for that.” Jenny said finishing her coffee.

“Have you met him then?” Pippa asked urgently.

“Not to talk to. He was at the front desk one day talking to Sgt. Frank.” Jenny replied. “I assumed it was something to do with the case.”

“I didn’t get a message.”

“That doesn’t mean that he didn’t leave one you know what George Frank’s like.”

 

Pippa, the moment she returned to the station, went directly to reception in search of Sergeant George Frank.

She found him in a form of conversation with PC Deacon, which involved Deacon uttering a few words and Sgt. Frank ranting his response. His ranting's could last for up to ten minutes depending on the subject.

The reason for this was simple George Frank was a miserable old pain in the ass who hated his job and tried to ensure everyone else did as well.

“I took my girlfriend to the eye on Saturday.” Deacon began.

“The what?”

“The London eye Serge, at Greenwich.”

“Oh the big wheel. I never go to London it’s a cesspit.”

“But the view is fantastic.” Deacon enthused.

“A toilet is still a toilet Deacon irrespective of the angle from which it is viewed.”

“But you can see for miles.”

“A sewer is still a sewer.”

“Serge?” Pippa stopped him in mid rant. “Have you got a minute?”

“What is it Mead?” He barked.

“I’m working on the Clifford’s robbery case.”

“So?”

“I’ve have been trying to get in touch with Mr. Clifford at the factory and I was told he came here to the station about a month ago and spoke to you.”

“And?”

“Did he leave a message?” Asked Pippa.

 “I don’t know. It’s busy down here you know a lot happens in a month.”

“Could you check Serge?” She asked. “It’s very important.”

He sighed heavily and put his glasses on and began moving papers around and looking under things and all the time he was muttering under his breath.

Then he began on the shelf under the counter and after a great deal of huffing and puffing he brought out an item and put it on the counter.

The object had a square wooden plinth at the base through which a six-inch spike was attached.

Impaled on the spike were pieces of paper of different shapes and sizes.

He fumbled through the pieces of paper still muttering beneath his breath until he suddenly…

“Ah ha.” He exclaimed.

He pulled off a wad of papers from the top and the removed an item and replaced the wad back on the spike.

He then replaced the spike under the counter where he found it.

“There.” He said thrusting an envelope in her direction.

“Now perhaps I can get back to work?”

“Thanks Serge.” Pippa said rushing out the door.

 

She ran up the stairs and straight into the ladies toilets.

When she got inside she checked she was alone and then chose a cubicle and sat down.

She sat for what seemed like an hour, although it was only a few minutes in reality, staring at the envelope.

It was simply addressed to DC Mead.

What if it was a list of the stolen goods or a thank you for a prompt and professional response or a copy of the insurance claim or maybe a donation to the Police officers benevolent fund?

She steeled herself and ripped open the envelope.

Inside, folded in half, was a sheet of A5, expensive, notepaper.

She took a deep breath and chastised herself for behaving like a silly schoolgirl and unfolded the sheet of notepaper.

On the paper was a short hand written note in very neat style of handwriting.

And she read:

 

Detective Constable Mead, Philippa.

 

I have to apologize for contacting you in this rather forward manner, but I have been trying to speak with you for the last few days and I have tried several times to phone you on the mobile number you provided.

This was, however, to no avail as all I managed to get was a rather rude and abusive gentleman whose comments I could not bring myself to commit to paper.

I understand from the Sergeant on reception that you are out of the office following enquiries so I am leaving this note.

I have unfortunately now been called away on family business and will out of the country for the next few weeks.

The reason I have been so anxious to contact you is that I would very much like to take you to dinner, which will now have to be on my return.

I look forward to hearing from you, and I hope very much that you will honor me with your company.

 

My very best regards.

 

Donald

 

At the bottom of the page, also in his very neat hand, were two phone numbers and an email address.

She was up on her feet out of the cubicle and dancing when the door opened and Jenny Hack waddled in.

Pip raced over and hugged Jenny.

“It’s good news then?” Jenny guessed.

“Yes, yes.” Was all she could manage.

“Don’t hug to tight I need a wee.”

 

Pippa Mead was feeling much happier with the world.

Not only had she, if belatedly, received, and read, the letter from Donald Clifford but she and Jimmy had made a major breakthrough on the case.

She was on top of the world.

She managed to corner Jenny in reception just as she was leaving, she was with her friend Lizzie but that was the closest to being alone she had been all day so she took her chance.

“This is a little something to say thanks for your help with ... well you know what.”

Jenny beamed a tearful smile and Lizzie looked puzzled.

“Thanks Pip, that’s really sweet”

 

It was now three days since Pippa had received, and read, the letter and it was also three days since she had begun trying to contact him on the two phone numbers and the email address he had included in the letter.

Donald kept two mobile phones, one for business and one for private use.

When she dialed the mobile phone numbers all she got was the answer phone, so she left message after message after message.

When that failed she emailed, several times, but to no avail.

During those three days she had gone through every emotion between elation and black despair.

Doubting the evidence contained in the letter, which had led her to believe his interest in her was more than professional.

She even doubted his motives for wanting to dine with her.

The family business of which he wrote in his letter was obviously a fabrication and he was merely playing some kind of sadistic game with her.

But she played her part in the game by phoning and emailing at regular intervals.

She had even called Marcus Tyler-Moore, the Clifford family solicitor.

He told her the last time he spoke with Donald he was in transit to Australia but that had been over two weeks ago and he had heard nothing since.

Then she began to wonder if he had been killed and was that the reason nobody could reach him?

Or maybe he was lying in a coma somewhere in a filthy foreign hospital.

Then this morning she awoke early, around four o’clock, and switched on her PC to check her emails.

While the PC was booting she went to the kitchen and made herself a hot drink.

Then she wandered back to PC and sat silently as she logged on and she expected to find her mailbox empty as usual.

She was right it was empty but for two pieces of junk mail.

One was from the financial sector wanting to loan her money and the second, as if to add insult on to injury, was an invitation to join a singles club.

Then she cursed herself for abandoning her carefree existence and allowing herself to be diverted.

She had never sought a soul mate or a life partner she had an abundance of friends with whom she had fun.

This was not fun.

What her friends must be thinking of her she could hardly imagine.

All she could do was put this past month down as a temporary aberration.

She would tell her friends she had been unwell but was much better now.

Pip reached out and picked up her address book and flicked through.

It was time to put all this love nonsense behind her, it was not for her, and now she had to get on with her life.

Finishing her tea she returned to the kitchen and poured herself another mug.

Returning to the PC she reached out to switch off.

Ping!

She had mail.

What this time, free books, Jesus saves, stripper’s r us or a lonely-hearts site.

She reached out again to hit the off switch.

But what if?

No! I’m not going there again, she thought to herself.

But what if?

No! I’ve made my decision, it’s over, and I’m cured.

She hesitated, her hand poised over the power switch.

“Shit!” She muttered as she sat down.

She opened her mailbox all the time cursing herself for weakening.

There was a new email from an address she didn’t recognize and she moved it to trash without opening it.

“Why do I do this to myself?” She said to herself walking towards the bathroom.

“Why didn’t I just trust my own judgment in the first place?”

She stopped suddenly.

“AU!” she shouted, “It ended AU.”

She ran back to the PC.

Quickly sitting down she recovered the email from the trash.

Pippa took a deep breath and opened the mail.

It was from Donald.

As she eagerly read the mail all her doubts and fears dissolved away.

Donald was indeed in Australia and he had had a series of misadventures.

Firstly he dropped his business mobile in the departure lounge at Heathrow Airport and then on arrival in Sydney he had the bag containing his laptop stolen.

But it was only when he tried to use his second mobile phone to report the theft that he realized it was also in the bag with his laptop.

So that was why Pippa had been unable to contact him.

The reason for his protracted visit was that he had been named as executor to his recently deceased Uncle’s estate and he had been attempting to settle his Uncle’s many interest’s, for example the last sixteen days had been spent on a remote sheep station.

He was now back in Sydney staying at the home of a close friend and was availing himself of his friend’s computer.

He still had a few lose ends to tie up but he was hoping to be back in England by the end of the following week.

Pippa was overjoyed.

She replied to the mail immediately and was rewarded a few minutes later with a reply of her own.

This continued for the next two hours until she glanced at the clock and reluctantly dragged herself away to get ready for work.

 

Pip spent much of a bright spring Saturday in her flat dressed in “Sloppy Joes” and glued to her computer trading emails with Donald Clifford in Australia.

The general content of their correspondence was first date stuff finding out each other’s likes and dislikes their backgrounds and their aspirations.

This was interspersed with outrageous flirtation and even a degree of lovemaking.

This was a new experience certainly for her and she hoped for him also.

She had not had Internet sex before.

It was nice.

Even so she couldn’t wait for him to come home.

 

A week later Pippa Mead’s slender frame trembled as she looked up at the board to see that flight BA145 from Sydney had landed.

 

She had arrived at the airport two hours before the flight was due and then the flight was delayed a further ninety minutes.

She had spent a sleepless night and even spending two hours getting ready hadn’t eaten into the time as much as she thought it would so she decided she might as well waist the time at the airport rather than at home.

Big mistake.

She had thought that there would be more distractions at a busy international airport and the time would not hang so heavy.

The problem with this theory was that almost everywhere you look at an airport you find a clock or time display.

She had bought magazines, she tried reading a book, and she drank endless cups of coffee and made endless visits to the toilets.

Pippa felt as though she had been at the damned airport for days.

Now the plane had landed and she was trembling.

Pippa turned on her heels and rushed to the nearest toilets.

After emptying her bladder for the umpteenth time she stood in front of the mirror and surveyed her reflection.

She was, by her own admission, a rather stick thin plain looking girl with, two redeeming features, the most stunning eyes and good legs.

As she stood before the mirror she combed her straight shoulder length blonde hair and then touched up her makeup.

She had discarded her normally masculine looking clothes, which led many people to suppose her to be a lesbian.

Instead she wore a short floral dress, showing off her legs, she liked her legs.

She turned side on to admire herself in the mirror then she stood on her tiptoes to get a better look at her legs, she nodded to herself, shame I don’t have a bum though she thought to herself.

Having viewed herself from every possible angle she gave herself a quick spray of perfume and put her things away in her bag.

Stopping briefly for one last look in the mirror she said out loud.

“I scrub up very nicely.”

Then she nodded and made her way back to the arrival hall.

 

As Pippa reached the arrival gate the first of the passengers were beginning to dribble through.

Then as more and more streamed through the gate she began to panic what if he doesn’t recognize me now I’m not dressed like a lesbian, what if I don’t recognize him.

When she calmed herself down she thought “I hope this blokes worth all this, my life’s been a complete disaster since the moment we first met”.

She need not have worried, the moment she saw him she knew him, and it was not the shabbily dressed man she had first met.

But the tall, lean thirty something that entered the concourse was unmistakable Donald Clifford.

He was wearing chinos and a sweatshirt and Pippa thought he looked great.

There was tiredness around the eyes but apart from that he looked great.

He paused for a moment to glance at the sea of faces then he looked straight into her exceptional eyes, smiled and walked toward her.

She pointed towards the exit and they began walking that way, both on different sides of the barrier and never averting their gaze and totally oblivious to anyone else’s presence.

When they reached the exit in the barrier they continued walking still gazing at each other until they were out of the main flow of travelers.

Now they were facing each other.

“Hello.” Don said.

“Hello.” She answered coyly.

Then they kissed.

And all the panic and self-doubt just melted away.

This man was worth it; this man was her soul mate.

 

 

The Abbottsford Police Chronicles – George and Dragon

(Part One)

George Tiplady had been a Chief Superintendent for four years and he hated it.
He felt cut off from his subordinates, and the day-to-day police work.
He found himself in a position he had never sought and treading his way warily through the political minefield such as modern Policing had become.
He owed his current situation solely to his ex-wife’s fanatical ambition.
He envied Bill Overend his Chief Inspectors rank, still running a squad and still feeling collars.
Even his five years as a Superintendent of Operations was more rewarding than what he was doing now.
When he first met his wife, Emily Thraite-Drake, he was a DS investigating the rape and murder of an infamous socialite named Catherine Pomery.
Emily was “old money” and a snob, purely and simply, she wanted status and a position in society.
She was one of the group of women who publicly and vociferously extolled the virtues of equality for women but in private were satisfied with pushing their husbands forward at every opportunity because they didn’t have the courage to make their own way in the world.
But that wasn’t the only thing he resented about Emily, he had wanted a family but she had not, so that was that.
The highlights of Emily’s life were Ascot, Epsom, The Henley Regatta and Summer Balls, for George it was the simple things in life like a Pint at his local or a Saturday afternoon at the football.
Peasant fare as Emily described it.
Then one day, at breakfast, he decided he had had enough, he looked at the frustrated middle aged woman he had once loved, bleating on about what his next bid for promotion should be when he got up and said “Good bye Emily.”
He only went back to the house once more, when Emily was away consoling herself in the south of France, to collect his belongings.
They were now divorced.

George had never regretted his decision to leave his wife but there were times when he was lonely, rare though those times were.
As he was based at Abbottsford Police Station he was often known to frequent the George and Dragon.
But even the George could not lift his spirits when he was at his lowest.
And when he was at his lowest ebb then he always knew he could find sanctuary at the Overend’s,
His DCI, Bill and his wife Sally always knew how to refloat the ship.

(Part Two)

The George and Dragon didn’t take on its true significant for him until the day he met the new owner Zoë Burrell because that was the day he fell in love again and loneliness was banished forever.

Zoë Burrell was a mature woman though to give her exact age would be indelicate; she was certainly not in the first flush of youth but would not be entirely unfamiliar with a flush.
She was a widow who had bought the pub from her brother in law, the previous owner, who had retired.
Zoë was no stranger to the hospitality industry, she had been in it since she left school and that was where she had met her husband.
They had run a pub together until he died and then she had owned and run a pub on her own as well since, though not a pub anywhere near the size of the George.
She could quite easily have lived a comfortable life with her inheritance.
But chose to work in instead.
She chose Abbottsford because that was where she had been born and raised.

George was a year or two older than Zoë and the first time he saw her he was smitten.
He was still a presentable man, even if his hair was greying at the temples.
George preferred to think it made him look distinguished.
He thought for a moment and resolved that he had no idea what colour Zoë’s hair was as he pictured her in his mind’s eye, it was a kind of reddy, blondy, browny, streakyish kind of thing.
But whatever colour it was, she was still a very attractive woman, 5ft 6inches with nice legs and a trim figure, very busty and she had small feet
“I like small feet” George said to himself and chuckled.

They hit it off immediately they met, maybe it was because they shared a similar sense of humour or they liked the same films, or the same music, but their mutual attraction was due to more than them having a lot in common.

(Part Three)

He found himself spending more and more time in the “George” and Zoë spent the time he wasn’t in there wishing that he was.
And it went on that way for several weeks until one day when he was in the pub for lunch with his best friend DCI Bill Overend.
Bill had noticed the way George and Zoë were together and couldn’t understand why neither of them had taken the next step.
Bill and Sally who were not averse to a bit of matchmaking had been trying to fix him up almost from the first moment he split with Emily.
But to no avail.
In fact Zoë was the first woman Bill had seen him even remotely interested in since his divorce.
To her immense frustration Sally was powerless to influence the situation as firstly as she was miles away from Abbottsford and secondly she did not frequent the “George”.
So with great reluctance she had to leave it to Bill.
Which is why while they were waiting for the food to arrive he steered the conversation towards the weather.
“It’s beautiful out there today” he said
“Yes” George agreed
“It should be good for your day off tomorrow” Bill said
“Yes” George said
“I know what I’d be doing if it was my day off”
“What’s that then?” George asked
“I’d take Sally on a picnic”
“A picnic” said George thoughtfully
Just then Zoë brought over the condiments and the cutlery.
Bill was watching George and he appeared to open his mouth as if to speak and then he closed it again.
It was pitiful, how on earth did he reach the rank of Chief Superintendent when he can’t even ask a woman out?
Bill had to act.
“George and I were just saying that it’s perfect weather for a picnic”
“Oh I agree it is perfect” Zoë said, “I do love a picnic”
“How about tomorrow?” George said croakily “just the two of us”
“Yes” said Zoë “That would be lovely”
Bill suddenly felt like a gooseberry.

(Part Four)

It was a bright June day as George turned off the main road onto a quiet lane lined with age-old trees that formed a canopy above them.
It was like driving through a tunnel, the foliage was so thick and the leaves defused the sunlight and dappled the road surface with spots of golden light.
“The turning is just ahead” Zoë said “there’s the sign”
High above sunbeams burst through the canopy and illuminated the sign which read “Trottwood Water”, and he turned left into a small, pot-holed car park which was deserted except for one other car.
George parked in the corner.
“We have arrived” He said and smiled at his passenger who returned his smile with interest.
They got out of the car and after retrieving the picnic basket off the back seat he locked the door and paused to look at his companion with pride.
It was their first date after all.

They walked through the gate and he caught his first look at the lake, he was struck by its beauty and he couldn’t believe he had never been there before in all the years he had lived in the county.
He never had cause to go there even in a professional capacity in all his years he had never been.
Even though Trottwood Water would not have existed were it not for a Tiplady.
He paused briefly before crossing the bridge and turned to look across the lake and was amazed at the natural look of the scene.
Especially when he considered that little more than a 150 years earlier it was a boggy field.
Before a distant relative of his, a Victorian industrialist named Josiah Tiplady, made his mark on it.
He had made his fortune amongst the Smokey factory chimneys of Lancashire, but sought a country retreat in which to enjoy his fortune as well as breathing some fresher air.
So he bought the old Trottwood Manor because it had everything he was looking for, though not apparently a lake complete with fountains and an island bird sanctuary.
It was however pleasing to the eye so it had to be money well spent.
He turned and looked at his date and thought that she too was pleasing to the eye and then he took Zoë’s hand and they continued across the bridge.

George and Zoë thought their first date was a great success so they made plans for a second and a third.
Very soon they were virtually inseparable and both of them were amazed that they had found love again.
So when two months had passed by they were very much a couple.

(Part Five)

Due to the inclement weather it was a quiet night in the “George” even for a Tuesday and by last orders there was only Zoë and barmaid Irina Karpinska left and a handful of stalwarts.

Due to an overrunning operations meeting George Tiplady and Bill Overend were late leaving the station, very late in fact.
George persuaded Bill to go to the pub for a nightcap before they headed home.
They always walked up to the “George” as a rule.
However due to the lateness of the hour and the foul weather Bill drove them up there instead.
As they drove up to a set of traffic lights about three hundred yards from the pub the light turned red and bill stopped.
While they waited George almost jumped out of his skin when somebody banged loudly on the passenger door window.
George looked round and saw a rain soaked Wynn Roberts peering into the car.
Wynn was one of the regulars.
“George, George there’s a ruckus at the pub, some yobs are smashing up the place” he spurted out.
“Alright Wynn leave it to us”
Bill hit the blues and twos and George called for assistance.
DCI Overend pulled up sharp outside and the two men decamped and ran in.
The scene that confronted them was one of devastation, tables and chairs had been turned over and there was broken glass everywhere.
George had eyes only for Zoë and found her in the back consoling Irina Karpinska
Bill mean while perused the damage and a few minutes later PC’s Deacon and Hanratty came through the door batons in hand.
After surveying the scene Deacon said
“Bloody hell”
“Very succinctly put Dickie” Bill said
Just then George returned
“Everyone ok?” Bill asked
George gave a reassuring nod and said
“Irina’s a bit shaken up but Zoë’s fine”
George looked around
“I don’t think there’s any point in getting the SOCO’s up here” George added
“Zoë said they didn’t go anywhere a customer couldn’t go”
Bill nodded his understanding and said to Hanratty
“Have you got your camera on you Catriona?
“Always Guv” she replied
“Ok get photos, and then you and Dickie can take statements from the ladies, and Wynn Roberts he’s the one that alerted us” Bill said
“Mrs Burrell will give you the names of any other regulars that were in here and get statements from them”
They both nodded
“Then write it up, open a case file and provide Mrs Burrell with copies of the photographs and a crime number for the insurance”
“Yes guv” they said in unison.

(Part Six)

When the PC’s had gone Bill drove Irina home and when he returned he found Zoë and George had made significant inroads in clearing the mess.
Bill slipped off his coat and joined them.
When everything was shipshape they all sat down and had coffee.
“So what happened?” Bill asked “what set them off?”
“Four men against two women and a handful of crocks and pensioners.
They’re brave lads” George mused
“They wanted Protection money” Zoë said “and I said no”
Bill and George were shocked
“They demanded money just out of the blue?” George asked
“A couple of chaps came in last week, but I thought they were just chancing their arms because I was a woman” she said.
“So I thought no more about it”
“Why didn’t you say something luv?” George asked
“I really didn’t think they were going to do anything if I had I would have told you I’m not a fool”
George held her had
“Well either their very ballsy or very stupid” Bill said “attempting to get Protection money from a pub used by coppers”
“They can’t be locals” George said
“They must be out of Towner’s trying to make their mark”
“And if they were to get a toe hold in Abbottsford there’ll be a turf war”
Bill added gloomily
“They smashed up the place so I would know they were serious, they’ve given me two days” Zoë said
“They’ll be in for the money after closing Thursday night”
“Well it’s going to be another late night on Thursday” Bill said
“Indeed it will” George added
“What are you going to do?” Zoë asked

(Part Seven)

Serving behind the bar on Thursday night were Irina Karpinska,
Zoë and a new barmaid, Catriona Hanratty
Also in the pub that night seated in the bar were DCs Dave Webster and Ali Khan and playing darts were PC Deacon in plain clothes and Sgt Boris Katarski.
Out the back out of site of the customers were Bill and George who were playing cards in the kitchen.
Just before the last bell two men walked in and made their way to the bar, they were both early thirties, well groomed and reasonably well dressed.
“You’re cutting it a bit fine” Catriona said “what can I get you?”
“I’ll serve these gentlemen” Zoë said and gave a discrete nod to Catriona
“Ok” she said “I’ll go and collect the glasses”
Irina was stood in the doorway and had turned very white.
Catriona picked up a jug from the shelf and handed it to her.
“Take that to the kitchen babe” she instructed Irina
Irina was shaking as she took the jug from the PC but she did what she was told.
Catriona knew that once in the kitchen she would alert the Guvnors.
She opened the hatch and started picking up empties from the tables as she passed the dart board she said
“Two men at the bar”
Zoë rang the bell
“Time gentlemen please” she called
“I’m going to call it a night” Boris said and drained his glass
“Me too” concurred Dickie
They put their jackets on and walked towards the door
“Night ladies” Boris called
“Thanks lads, good night” Zoë replied
Once outside they crossed the street and hid in the shadows where they had a good view of the pub.
A few minutes later Dave and Ali also made their exit but unlike Boris and Dickie they secreted themselves in the toilets.

The last few punters said their goodnights and the taller of the two men took out his mobile phone.
“All clear” he said and put the phone away.

From their position in the shadows Boris and Dickie saw two men get out of a parked car just outside the pub and quickly go in.
The two officers left their hiding place and quickly crossed the road to follow them.

With his jug ears Dave Webster heard the main door open and close.
“What’s happening?” Ali whispered
“Another two have arrived” he replied

Bill and George were still in the back room listening intently to what was happening.
“I hope you have come to your senses?” the Tall one said as the door opened and two big rough looking blokes entered the bar carrying baseball bats.
“Otherwise I’ll set them loose again”

(Part Eight)

Webster slowly opened the door and when he saw it was all clear he and Khan left the toilet.
Once in the vestibule Dave quietly slid back the bolts on the door and let in Katarski and Deacon.
Once the four men were set Boris he said into his radio
“In position Guv”

“I told you last time I don’t need protection” Zoë said calmly
“I’m very disappointed in you Mrs Burrell, very disappointed indeed” the taller man said
This was George Tiplady’s queue and he stepped through the door to the bar and said
“She has made it perfectly clear that she doesn’t need your protection sonny”
“Keep out of this old man” said the shorter man.
“She already has all the protection she needs” George continued
“Right you two” the tall one said to the two roughs “smash the place up and then smash him up”

Bill shouted into his radio “go now” And all hell broke loose.
The four policemen charged through the door and took the two roughs completely by surprise flattening one before he knew what was happening and Webster quickly got the cuffs on him.
The second one back peddled and managed to swing his bat in Katarski’s direction but got no real force into it and Boris easily avoided it, ducking under the swing and hitting him hard in the midriff knocking him to the floor but even on the floor it took him and Khan to subdue him.

Meanwhile the shorter man at the bar decided he wanted a piece of George Tiplady and scrambled up over the bar.
George adjusted his feet and was about to knock him back the way he came with his fist when Zoë hit him first with an ice bucket and he slid backwards onto the floor where Webster found him and cuffed him.
The taller man decided that discretion was the better part of valour and seeing his way to the front door barred decided to make a run for the back.
He reached the end of the bar just as Bill Overend and Catriona emerged from the back room.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Bill said
“I’ve got this guv” Catriona shouted and pushed in front of him.
Taller man threw a punch which she deftly avoided and struck him across the side of his knee with her baton.
He let out a scream of agony and collapsed to the floor.
“Nice work constable” Bill said “Cuff the bastard”
“Yes guv” she replied with a grin
Bill gave the bar a cursory glance and noted they had all four men with minimal damage and no injuries to the good guys.
Bill took out his phone and called the station.
“Send transport, four in custody at the “George and Dragon”

(Part Nine)

After all the excitement of the battle with the gang of thugs had died down George and Zoë decided it was time for another picnic so they returned to the scene of their first date, Trottwood Water.
It seemed very fitting as it was their beginning and they had plans to make for their future.
So they sat in the late summer sunshine on the plaid picnic blanket up on a grassy bank, overlooking the lake, and chinked their champagne glasses together.
“Is that a yes then?” George asked
“Of course” she replied

George had less than two years until his retirement and for the first time since he divorced Emily he had a plan not just for the period up to his retirement but beyond a plan for the future, a real future.
Leaving the police would not be the end of his life but rather it would be the beginning.
And instead of dreading the time beyond the job and hoping his last day would never come, he now felt it couldn’t come soon enough, his life after that would be with Zoë.
So they made plans for him to sell his depressing flat and then he would marry Zoë.
Then after he retired they would run the George and Dragon together.

“Just one thing George Tiplady” she said
“What’s that love?” George said happier than he had ever been
“When we get married, I’m quite happy for you to be the George in our joint enterprise as long as I’m not the dragon”

The Abbottsford Police Chronicles – Bizzie Lizzie

(Part One)

Lizzie Bird was a 29 years old widow and a florist by profession and she owned her own shop, “Bizzie Lizzie”, in Abbottsford and had ambitions to open further shops in time.
She had worked hard to make a success of the shop and had made sacrifices over recent years to do it.
Relationships were one thing that she decided to forgo.
But as the shop was doing well and she had staff she could trust to ease her burden she had decided the she would address the aspect of her life she saw as one of her failings but she wouldn’t force it.
One thing she didn’t neglect however were her beloved Knights.
Which is why she found herself at Abbottsfield, the home of Abbottsford Town Football Club on a cool damp evening
As she pushed through the turnstile the atmosphere was buzzing and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
She bought herself a program and quickly made her way to the north stand.
It was quite late and the ground was almost full and she wished she’d left the shop a little earlier.
When she reached the stand it looked full, a steward saw her looking and stood craning her neck looking for an empty seat, and Bill Overend waved an arm in the steward’s direction and gestured there was a spare seat.
The steward acknowledged the signal and a grateful Lizzie made her way up the steps.
When she arrived at the top of the steps, wrapped up against the damp night air, wearing a parka coat with the hood drawn up, nobody would have guessed what was beneath.
Before taking the vacant seat she unzipped her coat and pulled down the hood and to Bill’s surprise an attractive brunette emerged.
“Thanks.” She said to Bill. “I was beginning to think I was out of luck.”
“Pleasure.” Bill replied.
“I’m really grateful.” She said. “I’m Liz, Lizzie.”
“Well I’m pleased to meet you Liz, Lizzie. I’m Bill.”
She nodded and settled herself into her seat.

(Part Two)

When the Half time whistle blew it was greeted with a mixture of great relief and jeers of derision.
For the Score of: Abbottsford Town 0, Forest Green Rovers 0,
“Well that wasn’t good,” Tom Powell said. “In fact it was crap.”
“Rovers have settled for a point then.” Bill added.
“That’s for sure.” Said little Ken Cake
“I can’t remember a time I enjoyed hearing the half time whistle more.” Bill said shaking his head.
“He’s got to change things around now.” Bob Philips suggested.
“That was awful.” Was the best Tom could manage.
“I need a drink after that.” Said Ray Robinson
“You always need a drink.” Bob responded. “I think I’ll join you.”
They made their way out towards the club bar.
“I’m going for a hot dog, can I get one for you Bill?” Asked Ken.
“No thanks Ken.” Bill answered. “Can you get me a coffee though?”
“What about you young lady?” Ken said addressing Lizzie.
“Oh thank you. A coffee please, black.” She said “Thanks.”
“I’ll come with you Ken.” Offered Tom.
“Are you coming John?”
“Yes, I think I will.” Replied John Holt
When everyone else had left, Lizzie turned in her seat to speak to Bill.
“Your friend is very kind.”
“Yes Ken is a nice bloke.” Bill answered. “In fact they’re all nice actually. A real good bunch.”
“Do you often come to the match on your own?” Bill asked.
“No, this is the first time in years.” She replied. “I used to come with my husband, Kenny, and then after he died I’ve been coming with my brother but he had to work tonight and I didn’t want to miss it.” She raised an eyebrow.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to pry.”
“That’s ok, it’s been two years now.”
Bill thought for a few seconds.
“You look very familiar, do I know you from somewhere?” He asked.
“Right.” She said doubtfully.
“That’s a very old line.” She said with a laugh.
“I’m a very old man.” He replied.
“You’re a dirty old man.” Said Ken as he returned with the drinks. “Leave the poor girl alone.”
“Even dirty old men need love Ken so leave me alone.”
Bill and Lizzie took their coffees from Ken and thanked him.
Tom and John returned and took their places.
“Flowers?” Bill said.
They all gave Bill a strange look except Lizzie.
“Yes, definitely flowers.” He insisted
Lizzie just smiled.
“Florist. You’re a florist.” Bill said triumphantly.
Lizzie nodded.
“Bizzie Lizzie.” He said. “In Abbey View road.
“Yes. That’s me.” She said. “And you?”
“Oh me? I’m a Policeman.” He answered. “Detective Chief Inspector.”
“In Abbottsford?” She asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you know Jenny Hack then?” She asked
“I do.” He said proudly. “She’s on my squad.”
“Really? She’s my best friend, we’ve known each other since we were four.”
“It’s a small world.” Replied Bill.
“So you must be Overton, Overman, Overing.” She struggled.
“Overend.” He corrected.
“Overend. Of course, she often talks about you.” She said.
“Oh God.” Bill said shaking his head. “I dread to think.”
Just then Bob and Ray returned and the moment they sat down everyone else stood to greet the teams as they ran out for the second half.

At the end of a scintillating half Abbottsford Town won 2-0
The players would doubtless have taken a lap of honor had it not been for the pitch invasion.
The Police and stewards made no attempt to clear the pitch they just ensured that the players and the officials left the pitch in safety and weren’t hugged to death the supporters.
Some of them even hugged the referee and the Police. But eventually everyone calmed down and briefly reflected on what they had seen and began drifting away.
The friends said their goodbyes and pledged to be back in August.
“Bye Bill, bye everyone.” Said Lizzie. “Nice to have met you all.”
“Bye Lizzie, you know where to find us next season.” Said Bill.

(Part Three)

It had been busy in the shop since the match and so when she took the call from Bill Overend it was a very welcome distraction.
And she was pleased when the call had ended that she had something to look forward to.

Lizzie put the huge bouquet of flowers in the back of her car and closed the door and then drove the short distance to Abbottsfield Police Station.
As she stood in the stairwell she could hear the muted cheers and muffled sound of sporadic applause and even a little distant laughter.
She pressed her ear against the door so she could follow proceedings
She recognized Bills voice.
“I am of course referring to our own “little flower” the very lovely Jenny Hack.”
More cheers.
She couldn’t hear anything for a few moments then bills voice came through again
“Now I should just like to digress for a moment. It may have escaped your notice being that most of you are detectives but the lovely DC Hack is in fact pregnant and not as I have heard mentioned in the canteen just fat and bad tempered.”
More laughter.
“As I have already mentioned Jenny is a very popular member of the team.
Now to prove just how popular you are we had a collection and it turned out that, either, everyone genuinely liked you, or were just pleased to see the back of you. But whatever the motive may have been they were exceedingly generous.”
It went quiet again.
“I will now hand you over to Chief Superintendent Tiplady to present you with the gifts.”
“Thank you Bill, firstly, I would like thank Jenny for her valuable contribution to force and obviously look forward to her return.”
“So with gratitude and congratulations please accept these gifts as a token of our affection”
That was Lizzie’s cue and she quietly pulled open the door.
She stood at the back and watched as the procession of gifts were paraded to Jenny.
They quickly piled up beside her and were in danger of dwarfing her, there were twelve in all and they arrived in such quick succession that she had no time to open them.
When the last gift had been presented Tiplady spoke again.
“Finally from DCI Overend and myself.” He announced and gave a theatrical sweep of his arm.
Lizzie stepped through the crowd with the huge bouquet, it was so large Jenny couldn’t see who was holding it until the very last second.
It took a few moments for it to sink in but when she saw who it was she burst into tears.
“What are you doing here?” Jenny sobbed
“When Bill called to order the flowers I asked if I could bring them myself and he said yes.” Answered Lizzie and then gesturing towards the presents she added.
“And anyway it looks as if you’re going to need some help getting this lot home.”
“When we have all composed ourselves and opened the gifts I suggest we make our way over to the “George” and wet the baby’s head.” Said Tiplady.
“You don’t wet the baby’s head until after it born.” Overend said.
“Whatever.” Retorted Tiplady.
Bill walked over to Jenny’s desk and watched while she and Lizzie ripped open the paper on parcel after parcel.
“If you’re not happy with anything I have the receipts so you can change it.” Bill said.
“They’re all just what I wanted.” Jenny said in amazement.
“As much as I would like to take the credit we got a list from Bob.” Said Bill.
“Boris!” Bill shouted.
“Guv.” Boris said as he appeared from behind a pillar.
“Can you organize some labour to get Jenny’s stuff down to her car?”
“That’s alright sir I’ll do it later.” Jenny said.
“Nonsense you are going to have an enjoyable lunch in the pub and then you are going home"
Jenny started to speak again.
Bill wagged a finger in her direction.
“Ok sir.” She answered feebly.
As Bill walked off towards his office Lizzie leant in close to Jenny and whispered.
“Who’s the one with the black hair and the Gypsy eyes?”
“Oh that’s Boris.” Jenny answered quietly. “He’s a nice bloke, single.”
Lizzie gave her a stern look although she did rather like the look of him, and in truth she hadn’t looked at anyone like that since Kenny died but then her defense mechanism kicked in and she made light of it.
“Does he have pierced ears?” Asked Lizzie.
“I don’t know, why?”
“Because I think men who have pierced ears are better prepared for marriage than those without because they’ve already experience pain and are accustomed to buying jewelry”
They both laughed.

(Part Four)

Jenny and Lizzie were amongst the first to arrive in the George and Dragon, which was the favourite watering hole for the local constabulary.
Jenny had had to make one of her many trips to the ladies so while Bill Overend was getting in the drinks Lizzie was amusing herself by studying the pictures and posters which adorned the walls of the bar.
And suddenly a name at the bottom of one of the items caught her eye.
It was a framed poem, which had also been beautifully illustrated.
Just at that moment Bill returned from the bar.
“Well you’re a man of hidden talents.” Said Lizzie. “Do you still write poetry?”
“Oh yes. Though not as often as I’d like, but I still write.
I find it relaxing particularly when I’m working on a difficult case.”
“Isn’t that difficult though working on a case and writing?” Lizzie asked
“Not really, after all a poem or rhyme is just another kind of puzzle to solve. A bit like detective work, it’s simply arranging the words so they fit and make sense instead of the facts and evidence.” He answered
“Have you ever had anything published?” she asked
“Good God no!” he exclaimed “I only do it for my own amusement and no one publishes this kind of poetry, Haiku seems to be in vogue now”
“What’s Haiku?” She asked.
“It’s a Japanese verse form of three short lines, very dull.”
Just then Jenny returned from the ladies.
“Alright flower are you ready for a drink now?” Asked Overend.
“Yes please. White Wine Spritzer please.”
Bill went to the bar and left the girls talking.
“He’s a nice man, your boss.” Said Liz.
“Yes he is.” Jenny answered suspiciously.
“There’s no need to look at me like that, all I said was he was a nice man.”
“I know I’ve been trying to fix you up ever since Kenny died but I didn’t have Bill Overend in mind.”
“I just thought he was a nice interesting man.” Lizzie said in her defense.
“Nice and interesting.” Jenny said raising an eyebrow.
“Look apart from the fact that he’s too old for me he’s also married.” Lizzie said firmly. “But he is a nice man.”
“Hmm” Jenny said
“Now what’s this Boris like, I like the look of him?” Lizzie said
“Boris is a nice bloke, he needs some work but he is nice and he’s single.” Answered Jenny.
“They all need some work.” Lizzie said.
“Like fine wine, they start out as grapes, and it’s a woman’s job to stomp on them and then keep them in the dark until they mature into something you'd want to have with dinner.”
They both laughed raucously as they walked to join the rest of the group.

As DCI Overend and Chief Superintendent Tiplady stood at the bar dispensing drinks Jenny and Lizzie settled themselves in the corner.
And one by one, drink in hand, Jenny’s colleagues joined them
Detective Constables Webster, Pidd and Chute were first to sit, then Boris Katarski sat next to Lizzie.
Pippa Mead and Grace Suddaby both pulled up chairs to join the group and then Griffin and Khan arrived and Tiplady said
“Just in time Gentlemen order your drinks and then you can start taking these over the adjacent tables”
There was a lot of chatter during lunch and Lizzie spent much of the time flirting with Boris who got quite embarrassed at her attentions.
She was surprised at her behavior it was completely out of character.

At the end people began to drift back to work taking it in turns to say goodbye to a tearful Jenny who was slightly merry.
Before DCI Overend left he said to Jenny.
“I think we need to get you a lift home Flower.”
“I’ll drive her home Bill.” Said Lizzie.
“Thanks Lizzie.” He replied.
“What about my car?” Said Jenny “And the presents?”
“Boris can drive your car home and Frank can follow on and bring Boris back.” Bill suggested.
“That’s alright I can drive Boris back to the station.” Lizzie quickly offered.
“Are you sure that’s ok?” Bill asked
“No problem.” She replied feeling rather pleased with herself.
After Tiplady and Overend took their turns to say goodbye, a small group briefly remained, Boris, Frank, Pippa, Lizzie and Jenny.
While the men had gone to the toilet Pippa fished in her bag and brought out a neatly wrapped package.
“This is a little something to say thanks for your help with ... well you know what.”
Jenny beamed a tearful smile and Lizzie looked puzzled.
“Thanks Pip, that’s really sweet”
Just then Boris came back and they gathered Jenny and her belongings together and ushered her outside.

(Part Five)

On the drive to Jenny’s, Lizzie asked
“What was all that about with Pippa?”
“What?” Jenny said
“Mysterious Pippa and her “Well you know”” Lizzie said
“Oh that, I just gave her some able assistance with her burgeoning relationship with local business man Donald Clifford” Jenny answered
“Clifford’s biscuits? That Donald Clifford?” Lizzie asked
“Yes that’s the one” Jenny said smugly” I was cupid”

An hour later Jenny was safely at home in the care of her husband Bob.
Boris parked Jenny’s car on the drive and then he and Lizzie helped Bob unload the gifts and flowers, by the time they had finished Jenny was fast asleep on the sofa.

On the journey back to Abbottsford Lizzie hoped Boris might ask her out.
She had given him all the signals.
Jenny did say that despite all of his bravado he wasn’t as confident with women as he appeared.
But she was feeling rather frustrate as with just the two of them in the car and no risk of interruptions he said nothing.
She was sure he fancied her, unless she had badly misread the signals,
“It has been a while” she thought to herself.
If he didn’t hurry up and ask her they would be back at the station and the chance would be gone.
They were ten minutes into the journey before he managed to say anything.
“You’re not married then?” He suddenly blurted out.
Lizzie would have probably been insulted or surprised by the question had Jenny not forewarned her of Boris’s lack of confidence.
“No, I’m a widow.” She replied
“Oh God I’m so sorry.” He said mortified
“That’s ok you weren’t to know.” She reassured him
“How long has it been?” he asked
“Over two years now.” Lizzie said
They were now in the Police station car park and time was definitely running out.
“You haven’t met anyone else then?” he asked
Lizzie gave him a sideways glance as she fought to suppress a smile.
“Well Boris men are like parking spaces, the good ones are taken, and the rest are handicapped.” She said ironically
He laughed nervously as Lizzie finally found a space to park.
She pulled the car into the space and stopped.
“There you go.” She said
“Thanks Lizzie.” Boris said
He paused and was about to speak again but stopped short.
He opened the door and got out, then he leant down.
“Thanks again bye.”
“Bye Boris.”
He shut the door and walked slowly towards the building.
Lizzie looked on as he seemed to be muttering to himself under his breath and shook his head several times.
She pulled out of the space and drove in his direction and sounded the car horn which made him jump.
She laughed as he turned sharply and had it not been her his response may have been much more vocal.
But when he realized it was her he smiled instead.
Lizzie’s was still laughing as she wound down the window.
“If you’re interested I’m free tomorrow night.” She stated
“Right um yes.” Boris Stuttered
“There’s a film on in town at the Tivoli I really want to see.” She said.
“Um great yes.” Boris stuttered again
“I’ll meet you in the foyer at 7.30. Ok?” she instructed
Boris nodded.
“Bye Boris.” She shouted as she drove off.
And complimented herself on her forwardness in handling the situation.

(Part Six)

The Tivoli theatre was an old cinema originally built in the twenties.
At that time it was the only cinema for twenty miles in any direction so Abbottsford was the envy of the district.
By the late seventies however films had gone out of fashion and the theatre was closed.
It was in disuse for more than ten years, it was however spared the indignity of becoming a bingo hall as many a fine picture house had.
When the cinema revival happened, Chris Bourne, a local man made good, who like many had fond memories of the Tivoli, mainly associated with courting, restored the theatre to its former glory.
Ironically it was the advent of satellite television and video rental, supposed to give us all so much choice of home viewing, which seemed to spark the revival.
It was feared for a while that the renovations would be in vain as a new multiplex cinema was opened in the new Phoenix shopping center development.
But Chris Bourne was unperturbed and decided that the Tivoli should specialize in classic movies and retrospectives.
As a result people traveled from miles around, as they did in the twenties and thirties.
The theatre was located in the older part of town in what used to be the high street.
There were no longer any shops of note in the high street, they had long since moved into the Phoenix center.
When the Abbottsford ring road was opened the High street was pedestrianized and this had inadvertently created a sought of leisure haven.
Where once the road had run were now benches, planters, ornamental lights and even a fountain.
The vacant shops had for some time now been occupied by a collection of restaurants, fast food outlet's bars, café’s and wine bars.
The only premises not connected to food or drink were charity shops, craft shops, second hand book shops, two art galleries and of course the Tivoli Theatre.

(Part Seven)

Lizzie was early, which was not like her, and not only by minutes, she was ridiculously early which was totally unheard of.
And as she walked past the fountain she spotted Boris, who was also early.
“That’s cute” she thought to herself and hid, putting the fountain between her and her date.
She liked the fact that he was keen but she didn’t want to give him the impression that she was.
From her hiding place she watched him sit at one of the outside tables at Luigi’s Café just opposite the Tivoli.
He ordered a drink and took out a newspaper but in the ten minutes she watched him sitting there it appeared he was struggling to concentrate.
“That’s so sweet” she thought.
Then a middle aged couple walked up to him and they engaged in conversation.
It appeared the woman was a stranger to him as they shook hands.
Then Boris gestured to an empty chair and the man attended the chair for the woman, presumably his wife, until she was settled and then he sat himself.
They chatted for a few minutes and then she decided she didn’t care what kind of impression she gave him she was going over now.
So she walked around the long way, approaching him on his blind side and stopped in his peripheral vision almost immediately he turned around and seemed surprised to see her.
“Hi.” She said smiling broadly. “You’re early.”
He stood up.
“Hi.” He said
He gazed at her speechless as if transfixed, and then he suddenly realized he was staring.
“Um this is Mary and John and this is Lizzie.” He paused briefly for the introductions.
“John is an Inspector at my station.” He explained.
“Yes I know John.” Both men looked surprised.
“The match on Wednesday.” She explained.
“Of course, I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.”
“Well I have scrubbed up a bit.” Lizzie said.
“You can say that again.” Boris said and then blushed to his roots when he realized he’d said it out loud.
Once settled and the introductions were out of the way Boris, to his and Lizzie's surprise, began the conversation.
“John and Mary are going to the Tiv as well. But they’ve never seen the film before.”
“Really?” she said in a tone suggesting they must be from another planet.
“What made you decide to see it now?” she asked
“Well we have decided to have something of a life change.” John said holding Mary’s hand tightly and gazing into her eyes.
Boris and Lizzie looked a little puzzled.
“And “It’s a wonderful life” seemed like an appropriate place to start.
Boris and Lizzie looked even more puzzled though John and Mary barely noticed.
After a few minutes Boris suggested that he went to buy the tickets while Lizzie finished her drink.
“That’s a good idea.” She said and suggested that John should join him.
Her curiosity was getting the better of her and she wanted an opportunity to speak to Mary.
The men returned with the tickets just in time as the girls had just finished their drinks.
So they stood by the table while the girls went to the toilets.
When they returned Mary took John’s hand and to Boris’s surprise Lizzie slipped her hand into his and they all made their way to the theatre.