Who are the people in the other flats? Angie had asked.
Students.
God, students. Theyre a pain in the arse.
And the conversation had stumbled into one of those awkward pauses again, as if Angie were some total stranger she had nothing in common with, instead of being her sister.
Diane had found herself standing like an idiot in the middle of the sitting-room carpet, shuffling from one foot to the other while she tried to think of something else to say.
Angie had flopped down on the old settee and stretched her legs with a sigh, staring at the toes of her trainers, which were still damp from the rain in Withens.
Well, arent you going to offer me a coffee or something, Sis? Even Ben offered me a coffee, when I was at his place.
Fry didnt move. Even her shuffling stopped. She waited for her sister to meet her eye, but Angie wouldnt look up.
You went to Ben Coopers house?
Angie smiled at her toes in a conspiratorial way, as if theyd done something quite clever.
I only stayed there the one night, she said.
Fry clenched her fingers until her nails dug into her palms. I dont think I want to know this.
Angie shrugged. Its not important. Ask me about it when you feel a bit more interested.
Fry opened her mouth, shifted her feet again, and noticed the pain in the palms of her hands.
How do you take your coffee? she said.
For some reason, Angie was still smiling. But now she looked up at her younger sister with a knowing look in her eyes.
Weve got a lot to learn about each other, she said. Havent we, Sis?
Diane Fry left the DIs office aware that shed absorbed only part of what hed been telling her. And that wasnt like her at all. She prided herself on a good memory for details when she was on the job. At home, life might pass in a haze some of the time, but not when she was at work. She was sharp, on the ball, a cut above the rest of them in CID. Well, usually she was. Maybe she was sickening for something.
It was remembering that day in Withens that had distracted her. She still felt the shock of the moment that shed turned to see Ben Cooper walking away and her sister standing there in the road instead, as if fifteen years had vanished in a blink of an eye. Since that day, she hadnt been able to think of her sister without thinking of Cooper, too. The bastard had intruded himself into her private life like a splinter under her fingernail. She would have to find out the truth from him one day. Until she had an explanation of his involvement, there was a missing connection. And without it, the presence of her sister in her life again just didnt add up.
Pausing in the corridor, Fry pulled out her phone and dialled Coopers number again before she could stop to reconsider. But all she got was the recorded voice telling her his number was still unobtainable.
She thrust the phone back into her pocket and kept walking. That was the problem with feelings they could be so ambiguous. It didnt make any sense at all to feel disappointed and relieved at the same time.
The Devils Arse, said the older of the two girls, with conviction. We want to go up the Devils Arse.
Ben Cooper smiled at an old lady who turned to stare at them. He tried to get a sort of tolerant amusement into the smile, mingled with embarrassed apology. The old lady lowered her head and leaned to whisper something to a friend supporting herself on a walking frame. Cooper flushed, imagining the worst possible thing she could be saying.
Theyre not mine, hed wanted to tell her, but he couldnt.
Theyre not mine, hed wanted to tell her, but he couldnt.
Although it was a Monday, the streets of Edendale were packed. The summer holiday season had started in the Peak District. It was sunny enough for the old ladies to stroll from their excursion coach to the tea rooms, as well as for younger visitors to shed some of their clothes and sprawl on the grass near the river. Cooper found it too humid in town when the weather was warm. He preferred to be on higher ground, where he could feel a bit of cool breeze coming over the moors.
In the pedestrianized area of Clappergate, they weaved their way between the benches and stone flowerbeds, wrought-iron lampposts and bicycle racks. A little way ahead was the Vine Inn and the brass plaque outside it that he knew so well: In memory of Sergeant Joseph Cooper of the DerbyshireConstabulary, who died in the course of his duty nearhere.
Cooper tried walking a bit more quickly. Perhaps if he could get away from the crowds, hed feel a bit easier.
Thats rude, said Josie. I dont say rude words.
The Devils Arse is what they call it, said Amy. So it cant be rude.
It is.
Its not. Just you ask Uncle Ben.
Cooper stopped. Tomorrow, he said brightly.
Why cant we ask you now? said Amy.
No, I mean were going there tomorrow.
Peak Cavern, said Josie. Thats what its called properly. Well go to Peak Cavern.
Cooper was sweating. And it wasnt just the humidity either. Talking to his nieces was like walking through a minefield these days. He didnt want Matt and Kate accusing him of teaching the girls to say arse. But he could already hear them saying it when they went home to the farm tonight. Uncle Ben says we can say arse, Dad. Just great.
Its your day off today, said Amy, who was the older of the two and knew CID shift patterns and duty rosters better than he did himself.
Ive got two days off this time, he said. So we can go tomorrow.
But
Yes?
But what if you get phoned up?
Cooper sighed. He felt a surge of sympathy for all the family men on E Division. This must be what it was like for them all the time. The constant cries of: Why werent you there, Dad?, Its supposed to be your day off, and What if you get phoned up?
If I get phoned up, said Cooper, well go some other time. I promise.
He could almost hear the girls weighing up the value of his promise, and judging its reliability. They were far too wise to trust any promise that an adult made, but they wanted to believe him. He opened his mouth to add: Ive never let you down before, have I? But he knew it wouldnt be true.
A party of hikers went by. Their clothes were dazzling, and their walking poles the latest anti-shock design. Getting kitted up for a day on the Derbyshire hills was becoming an exercise in fashion awareness, and all the accessories had to be exactly right. Soon, people would be choosing their rucksacks to match the colour of their eyes.
A white-haired man walked towards them on the pedestrianized area. The first thing Cooper noticed was his comb-over. Every time he saw one, Ben prayed that hed have enough sense not to do it himself when he was losing his hair. Be bald, wear a hat anything but a comb-over.
The man was wearing a silver-grey sports jacket and a blue silk shirt that hung outside his trousers. He had dazzling white trainers and a white toothbrush moustache that was probably the height of fashion when it had been black. His hair was long, too, even allowing for the requirements of his comb-over. He looked like an ageing British character actor playing the role of a faded gigolo.
Cooper was so distracted by the shopper that at first he didnt notice a man in a security company uniform gesturing to him from the doorway of W.H. Smiths. He was a retired police officer who had moved into the expanding private security business, so now he got a better uniform to wear.
I think theres a couple of those Hanson brothers just been in here, he said. Right toe-rags, they are. Theres a warrant out for both of them. I dont know them myself, but it looked like them from the pictures.
Cooper stopped. I know them, but
You might want to keep an eye out for them. Theyre probably somewhere down near the High Street.
Amy and Josie were looking at the man and listening with interest.
Look, Im off duty, said Cooper.
The security man noticed the girls for the first time. Oh, right. Youve got your kids with you.
Theyre not mine, actually.
I see.
Theyre my nieces. My brothers children.
Cooper had realized before he even stopped to speak to him that the ex-bobby was just the right age to have worked with his father. He found himself fidgeting immediately, anxious to move on before the reminiscences began, the stories of late turns together as young PCs. Because they would be followed very quickly by the assurances of how much everyone had respected and loved Sergeant Joe Cooper, and how devastated theyd all been when it happened.
It wasnt so much of a problem at the West Street station in Edendale these days, but the retired coppers were the worst. These were the blokes who had been counting the days and hours until they could collect their full pensions after thirty years service. Yet now you would think theyd been forced to leave behind the happiest days of their lives.
Must get on, said Cooper. Nice to see you.
Hey, these must be Joe Coopers grandchildren, then.
But Cooper just waved and smiled as he put distance between himself and the doorway of Smiths. Josie had to run to catch up with him.
Cooper thought occasionally of his own old age, though it was usually a brief speculation about whether he would live longer than his father had. He didnt feel any great desire to be a dad himself. Not just yet, anyway. But when he was old, when he was as helpless as his own mother was now, who would be there to look after him? At the present rate, there would be no one.
But that day was decades away; not something to worry about now. It was only the approach of his birthday that was making him think about ageing. And it wasnt just any birthday this time, either.
Joe Coopers birthday had been in July, too. That meant they shared the star sign of Cancer, the crab in its shell. An astrologer would probably have been delighted that it had taken Cooper so long to move out of Bridge End Farm for a place of his own. A reluctance to leave the family home, a need to cling on to his shell. He would be thirty years old on Saturday, for heavens sake.
As for his job, Cooper was sure hed be asked one day soon to undergo a bit of lateral development and say goodbye to CID for a while. Somebody was going to turn up with a sharp knife to prise him out of his shell.
You should have introduced us to that man, said Amy. He knew Granddad.
I thought you wanted your lunch?