27 August 2012
#acorn (chap2 being created)
Today was Peter's 49th birthday so he had decided to give himself and Sarah the rest of the day off. They had been together as a couple for approaching five years, but they had been colleagues for more than 20. Probationers together and now in the same department, Sarah was his closest and most loyal ally in and out of work.
No one else knew about his little celebration and that suited him just fine. He wasn’t adverse to a party, but liked them more when they were someone else's so he could blend into the background. He spent enough time in the limelight at work. Outside of working hours, he felt a little embarrassed by the attention from colleagues.
He took swig of his ice-cold lager and decided to get drunk tonight. It had been a long week with not much to show for it apart from an out of control workload. With each bitter gulp he could feel his stresses fade.
Tom finished emptying the dishwasher and walked over to stand in front of Peter as he polished the last pint glass.
'What's the craic mate?' he said, in his broad Belfast accent. Tom always went out of his way to talk with the police and frequently provided excellent intelligence. His father had been in the RUC, and murdered during the Troubles. As soon as he was old enough to gain his compensation he had moved to Fife and bought this little bar.
He didn’t particularly enjoy taking the dirty money from junkies and jakies, but couldn’t afford to turn down their custom. He had a reputation of running a tight ship, not taking any of their shite and they seemed to respect that. With the majority of the CID, being regulars he also benefited from knowing it was highly unlikely that his lock-ins were ever going to be questioned. More often than not high-ranking officers peopled them.
'No bad Tom, been a heavy week and I think I'm going to let the hair down. What's left o'it.' Peter said, finishing off his pint and passing his empty back.
'Where's your men today?They no joining you?' Tom poured the pint and set it on the counter. He put his hand up, refusing payment 'On the house mate, happy birthday.' There was a small pause and he continued 'You're not the only one with touts.'
'Cheers' Peter replied and took another hefty drink. Perhaps it was the early effects of a quickly downed pint, but somehow rapidly approaching 50 didn’t feel so bad and he was starting to wish he had invited the crew out.
Tom gave him a nudge, 'Heads up, your missus is back,' and without missing a beat continued, 'what can I get you doll?'
Sarah smiled, pulled up a chair next to Peter and asked for a glass of dry white wine. She looked up at him, perched on his bar stool, 'So birthday boy, did you miss me?' She stood up again, uncomfortable with the height difference, took her jacket off and handed it to Tom.
Peter looked at her and smiled. He thought how lucky he was that someone so beautiful could actually want to be with him.
Sarah was 39 but looked in her mid twenties, with shoulder length dark brown hair which had a slight curl in it. Her eyes varied from brown to green, depending upon the light and her mood, but always conveyed a warmth and compassion. A few freckles scattered her upper cheeks and ran across the bridge of her nose. He let his gaze drift down her exposed, elegant neck and lingered upon her figure. He mentally gave himself a shake. 'Where have you been? Do you want to grab a table?'
Sarah's eyes twinkled, 'I had to see some dogs about a man. Sure lets sit over there,' she indicated a booth near to the dance floor, currently filled by a pool table.
Tom poured Sarah's wine, which she accepted with thanks, telling him to put on the tab. She then led Peter to their seats.
Peter leaned forward and kissed her, 'You know, I really love you.' He ruffled her hair, 'What do you want to do tonight?'
'It's your night Sir, but I thought I would finish this drink, maybe have a game of pool, possibly a Chinese' she paused 'then I'm going to take you home and spoil you for as long as you can take it.' Sarah put her hand on his lap and stroked his thigh.
'Now that sounds like a plan.' Peter grinned and slightly blushed as he felt himself awaken to her touch. He checked his watch, 1400 hours. The office still had a few hours left and then the back shift would be in. 'You think we should phone the guys, tell them to come join us?'
Sarah laughed, 'You're getting predictable in your old age Pete, but no. I want you all to myself for a while.' She leaned in and kissed him, to which he couldn’t help but respond with a tentative probe of his tongue.
Sarah pulled away first, 'Be right back.' She got up and walked the short distance to the ladies.
Peter went outside and lit a cigarette. The street was busy with shoppers, tourists and students wandering about, drinking posh coffee and talking shite.
Even after 17 years working this Division he still had a distrust and dislike for the student population. He couldn’t quite understand why, but they rubbed him up the wrong way and he found it very difficult to speak to them without feeling inferior. No, that wasn’t it, he felt they viewed him as inferior which gave him the urge to break their teeth. At least with junkies you knew where you stood.
Students brought their own particular and peculiar problems. Getting drunk and fighting or stealing road signs or leaving their pushbikes at their arse, then wondering how someone could possibly steal it, when in actual fact it was usually another drunk student. Although petty, it was a huge bugbear of Peter's as it accounted for a large proportion of the undetected thefts in his beat and screwed his otherwise healthy monthly figures. All they had to do was put a bloody chain on them, or better still don’t bother reporting it.
He took two long puffs of his cigarette and put it in the overflowing ashtray bolted to the side of the wall, it was too cold to stand outside and smoke these days. Another reason why he should think about planning to quit, again.
Thin Line Ch 1:1 • Opuss № I