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The smell of the cabernet in her glass is heavenly after a busy day. She savours the first mouthful and closes her eyes as she tries to let the stress melt away.
Yeah, right.
The phone call this afternoon really shouldn’t have surprised her as much as it did, and it had thrown everything into disarray. Or at least had thrown her thoughts, and everything else had snowballed from there.
The hints from the ACC about the opening of a job up in Suffolk, an ACC post no less, the checking up of her courses and qualifications, that hadn’t been the strictest surprise. (In fact she wasn’t sure if the suggestion was a compliment or just the ACC wanting someone else in her place.)
No, the biggest surprise was that she hadn’t been aware of the opening, that it hadn’t even occurred to her to be looking or keeping her ear to the ground.
Her next gulp of wine is bigger than she meant and she winces a little. Once, even a few years ago, she would have known quickly about the opening, her ambition still burning away at the back of her mind. Now though, with the house empty more often than now, and those very courses just one more thing on her seemingly endless to do list, her ambition seems to have been smothered under the blanket of everyday life.
She takes another gulp of wine, her wince not so small this time. It’s too nice a wine not to be savoured so with a heavy sigh she slides the glass down onto the coffee table. Just as well there is no one here to hear the resultant screech of glass against glass and come running in in search of the problem. No, she’s all alone in the house again, and with a softer sigh of resignation, she drops her head back against the couch.
From this new position she can see a cobweb stretching across the ceiling to the lampshade, one she hasn’t noticed until now. She closes her eyes again; it is just one more sign of mild neglect in her life and she just wants it all to disappear for a moment. She lets herself sink fully against the cushions and gives herself a minute not to think.
She really should do something now she has realised in crystal clear clarity what her life has become, even if it doesn’t involve the Suffolk post. What though, that was the question. She sits up and considers the wine glass.
It's an ideal drink to accompany her planning.
-
She requests the job packet the next free moment she has between meetings. Even if she decides not apply, it won’t hurt to take a look at it. (And really, in this day and age where most of her reports have to be filed online, it’s a paper bundle that has to be sent out by post?)
Not unsurprisingly in a system that essentially runs on gossip despite the Data Protection Act, the ACC hears about it quickly. He sounds utterly delighted during their next phone call, even if he doesn’t mention a word about it.
It’s a cheaper bottle of red that night, and she tries not to think about police politics or the fact the house is empty again.
-
Chris shuts the door behind him, and the laughter that has accompanied the last hour fades away. Fortunately, Chris has taken after her in his choice of drink and tonight he brought over a lovely merlot for them to share. (She doesn’t quite know how enough time has passed that her child is now old enough to be able to legally drink with her). She doesn’t feel the slightest bit guilty in tipping what little remains into her glass and curling up on the couch, especially as his words from earlier run through her mind again.
He’d looked so pleased and proud when he said he’d heard she had asked for the job packet that she hadn’t the heart to tell him she wasn’t really sure about it. He’d sensed her hesitation though and while she was proud of how well he could read people, she really didn’t appreciate it being used on her.
What’s holding you here, Mum? What’s stopping you?
She can’t really answer either question. She knows she’s used to Oxford and her officers, even as annoying as they can sometimes be, and maybe that’s part of her inertia. It certainly isn’t her home life either and frankly her social circle isn’t what it used to be.
She blows out a long breath and takes another sip. So apparently she really is considering applying.
-
She makes it a point to keep her ear on the ground for any sign of who is applying for the job, which explains why she is drinking a rather cheap zinfandel and looking a lot more interested than she really is at a DCS from somewhere in Essex. The association meetings are usually a hotbed of gossip, and this one is proving no different even if she is a little more focused on information than usual.
She takes a sip and lets the sharpness of the wine keep her wits about her. (Surely for all the fees they pay, they can afford better wine at these things?)
She’s thankful for the sharpness a minute later though as she hears a name she never thought she would. James Elverson is putting in for the job? The man’s an imbecile for crying out loud. How he made DCS is a mystery to all, though she has heard several interesting theories.
Well that blooming well settles it then. She’s definitely applying.
-
The view of Oxford at this time of year really is lovely, and she’s glad she decided to treat herself and leave on time for once. The Malbec sitting in front of her is one she hasn’t tried before, and the hum of everyone else in the beer garden makes her feel less alone. Besides she’s feeling properly optimistic for the first time in god knows how long, has done since the letter this morning informing her of her interview appointment and not even the ACC managed to dent that feeling during his outburst over an unfortunate incident cover in the papers.
Tomorrow she’ll put out her feelers and see who else was successful, but for now she’s going to savour the evening sunshine, the wine and her newfound optimism.
-
She resists the temptation to fall face first onto the bed but only just. Instead she pulls out two of the miniature bottles of some variety of red from the minibar, price be damned, and kicks her shoes off.
She does sit down rather heavier on the bed than she intends but she doesn’t particularly care. The quiet of the hotel room is absolute bliss after a gruelling day of interviews and presentations, and so is the freedom to stretch and roll her neck in private.
She unscrews one of the bottles and realises she’s forgotten to bring a glass with her. There’s a brief moment where she considers drinking straight out of the bottle but it passes quickly. She slips off her tights on the way to the tea station and while drinking wine out of a teacup isn’t quite what she had planned, it’ll have to do.
She knows there are a few messages on her phone asking her how the day went but she ignores them for the moment. She wants to savour the knowledge that even if she doesn’t get the job, she did her damned best, and by getting to the final three beat that imbecile. Tomorrow she’s heading back to Oxford, and whatever mess her officers have gotten themselves into now, so she’s going to take full advantage of the night away from home and order room service.
-
The bottle of shiraz is sitting on the wine rack calling to her, but she ignores it as she opens up her laptop. She has a resignation letter to write first, and she wants to wait until Chris arrives to drink it with her in celebration.
-
She’s had nicer wines, but the house red is perfectly suited for getting her nice and relaxed before someone inevitably suggests karaoke.
The function room is nearly full, and she pushes away the small part of her that says they are only here for the free bar. She’s worked with most of them for at least several years, and the suck ups aside, has enjoyed getting to know them. There are a few faces she would have liked to have seen before she goes, but they have their reasons and anyway, she has a few tricks up her sleeve to bemuse them one last time.
She takes a sip and smiles as someone, she can’t see from here, starts singing. She’s going to miss them, all right not the headaches they give her but that’s practically a given at any station, and she’s glad tonight they can all let their hair down. Her smile drops a little but another sip reminds her there is still plenty to enjoy, both tonight and in the future, and she takes her glass with her as she makes her way to the focal point of the signing.
It’s time to start saying goodbye.