Every Monday Morning Comes

  **EVERY  MONDAY  MORNING  COMES**

📞Daylight - if not sanity - slowly returned. Every Monday morning comes, but today wasn't a simple return to work downer after the weekend, it was virtually a where the fuck do our lives go from here? agita.  

     Hauling themselves from bed, the bitter taste of yesterday still clouded their thoughts and the hope of feeling better after a sleep reboot had been destroyed by poor quality for any real benefit. On top of this, Saskia was extremely distant, short and snappy when she spoke, and now insisting that she faced her mother by herself - the antithesis to how she was last night - concurring not to any of Neil's behests.  Strangely, she didn't even want to discuss the best approach to the iniquitous impact such a revelation could play on a mother's mind. But she insisted that she would sort her out  (like it was some kind of physical fight that needed knuckle dusters) herself.  So they parted to their cars, one to work, the other to face the music - chamber, of sorts, it may seem. To take on Beverly unaided initially stumped him. Ultimately, he supposed, she knew her mother better. 

Neil was willing his phone to ring, tempted to break his promise of letting her call first. Desperate for an update, his concentration for work waned, focus wandering to Saskia and how the nitty-gritty with her mother was going; the longer she held off calling him, the bigger the possibility that she'd buckled and confessed. 

   Her conduct this morning concerned him. She was trying to get over as doughty, but floated off in thought and speech, like there was something else booting about in her head that she was afraid to disclose - lay bare even. But he didn't want to press her about it at the time, they were both too drained and this morning's attempt to ask would have been fruitless considering her mood.  Call, girl, just call.

    Jacqueline noticed in less than no time that he was subjectively occupied elsewhere. Usually he had umpteen coffees downed by now, but the first one still sat on his desk, cold and scummy, and he was more or less stewing away in the greenhouse, with no office mingling or input from him. So his seclusion suggested that he may already know.  As his P.A. and trustee, even she was not brave enough to ask outright if he had any idea what was being bandied about. She had a professional duty to do so, but the subject matter was too grotesque.  God forbid the news of such ignominy having to come from her. 

After several pleading voicemails, her phone call came that night. The police visit had left her mother rattled and keyed up, but Saskia seemed to have smoothed her over with constant denial of any maleficence. While Neil had expected bombardment with calls and lawyer threats from Beverly, he'd been fearing the worst by the absence of not hearing from her until now. 

   There was the element of both good news and bad from Saskia. Firstly, Beverly had been given the all-clear from cancer and were getting cover at the café to take a girly mum-and-daughter-break for the rest of the week. While this disappointed Neil, disheartened him even, he reckoned under the circumstances, it was perfectly understandable after what she had had to endure. That was not too much of a sacrifice for something that could have turned out worse; it may even be helping to extenuate the seriousness of the police visits. Then again, it worried him that it may be Beverly's way of sugar-coating her daughter to keep them apart. No. He had to trust what Saskia had conveyed. Her absence, he told himself, would give him the chance to tie up shipment loose ends the company needed done. 

   Neither was prepared, however, for the odious events about to happen. Other more pressing matters would soon trample and ride roughshod over them. His millions would play no part in helping him through. Paying the price for love would show him that money is no respecter of prejudice and ridicule.  

  

end *EVERY MONDAY MORNING COMES**

Doom or Destiny CH31

             start of  DOOM  OR  DESTINY

   

 💣The moment she was let through the door she gripped him with a hurting force, repeating through erratic breathing and stutters how terrified she'd been, and he clearly saw that in her raw, screaming eyes. Incoherent and babbling, he guided her to the sofa and sat her down, poured her a brandy (unlikely to serve any medicinal benefit whatsoever, but worth a calming shot) which she promptly laid on the coffee table in front of her; right now all she was desperate for was to be believed, and it was coming out in a fluster.

     'I didn't say anything to anyone, Dad, I swear - not a soul, I'm careful, so bloody careful! Christ, how has this even happened?' 

     Neil promptly handed her back the glass, encouraging her to drink it. 'Slow down, Saskia, just slow down... '

     'I was just ready to come here when they came to the door. I was terrified.'

     'How long has it been since they left?'

     'Uh... probably over an hour ago, maybe longer, but, oh my God, it felt like they were there forever, it was just so, so... fuck... ' Her words trailed off, the volume of them softening as she gazed straight at the wall in thwarted contemplation.   

     While still holding the glass, she was pulling at a hair band around her wrist, snapping the elastic again and again against her skin, making circular ripples in the brandy. He wished she would just gulp it down and listen to him. Then she, with slow shakes of the head and interspersed sighs, she started to babble softly to herself again. 'I swear I haven't fucked up. No, no... I didn't, I know I didn't.'  Ruminating thoughts kept her a prisoner of panic; the last thing she needed was to convince herself  she must have. But when? How?

     'Didn't what?' Neil asked. No answer. A deep fissure had opened in his mind, and he struggled not to let doubts and accusations ooze in. Surely she hadn't slipped up, caught out by mistake? Her silence, like his, was something paramount to their affiliation and he'd innately trusted her on this one. 'Saskia?' 

    Looking up at him she looked lost and infantile. Sitting down by her, he swept an arm around her shoulder, feeling her entire body stiffen. Gently, he kissed her head.  'Just tell me what happened.'

Now the brandy went down in one, fueling up on courage to help kick-start her own galling experience.

Her version sounded as painful as his own; similar grilling, similar indirect questions. But she had had her mother in the mix to cope with as well whom, so far, she hadn't mentioned.

     'I take it Beverly was at home too?'

     'Yeah, she was.'

     'Don't know what I'd have done without her to be honest.'  

     'What?' he said, not expecting to hear that. 'How?'

     Saskia drew in a breath and quickly exhaled it through her nose, recalling the scene. 'Strangely supportive. It got to a stage where she more or less shouted the police out the door they had pissed her off that much.'

     'Really?' Neil asked, taken aback at this, he assumed any involvement from her would be far from positive under the circumstances.

     'Oh, they were clever bastards though, spoke to me privately to start with. I was petrified, knew what was coming, denying everything. I don't know if mum had been listening at the door or not, but next thing we knew she barged into the room, demanding to know what was going on, so I had to tell her what we'd been accused of. I had no choice, it would have looked too dodgy if I hadn't, like I really had something to hide.'  So far she seemed to have used her spurious stratagem wisely, but he still felt highly suspicious of Beverly.

    'How did she react?'

    'Really quiet at first, her stare went from me to the police and a few moments later she asked me if it was true. Of course, I denied it and she accepted it, come over to me and hugged me. I cried with relief that she at least seemed to believe it.'  Neil's heart beat started to rapidly increase, not feeling in the least relieved himself.  'She turned to the police women and briefly filled them in on how and why we'd just met. She assured them that you were a decent man, and whomever gave them information of that nature was a sick bastard.'

     'Did they say anything about who that might have been?'  

     Saskia sighed and shook her head. 'Mum demanded to know, but they said it wasn't necessary and that it might just escalate to worse happenings.' Just as he had also been told. 'That was when she went radge, basically told them to fuck off... but they let slip it was a woman.'

   Neil frowned at this, and sat forward to look at her. 'They told you that?'

   Saskia shrugged. 'In a way. While practically pushing them out the door, Mum was throwing a loud wobbly, saying that she could kill the scum who caused this, and would 'rip the head off them if she finds out who etc, etc, and in between all her shouting I heard one tell Mum not to be ridiculous and that they would deal with her themselves if need be.'

    This guilty party (if Saskia heard rightly) was a woman, the snide was female. 

     Both police visits hadn't really lead to anything drastic, and he knew Saskia must have struggled to hold her nerve. But if Beverly hadn't been there he feared Saskia may have crumbled. Regardless of a mother's protection, Neil knew that matters couldn't have ended that simply.

     'How was your mum after the police left?'  The quick aversion of her eyes and reluctance to answer right off, said enough. 'Did you tell her the truth?'  

     He recalled the recent instance where Saskia had disappeared for three days after falling out with her mum, where Beverly hinted that Saskia may be getting too close to her father. That concern was dead and buried, excused as a one-off bitter reaction between feuding mother and daughter; Beverly's obscure reaction this time round sounded more worrisome.

    She sat forward too, clasping her hands, while hitting her thumb nails rapidly off her teeth. Then she stopped, swallowed, bowed her head. 'I don't want to ever stop seeing you... ' 

     'I know,' he replied tenderly, 'but I need to know if you told her. Does she know?' 

     Saskia shook her head. 'I'm not sure, Dad... she just stormed off, saying she'd see me in the morning. I kept shouting after her it wasn't true, but she just disappeared into her room.'  The corollary of the situation and her refusal to talk to Saskia pretty much spoke for itself. What she didn't tell him was, in actuality, Beverly had slapped her hard across the face, drawing her a vile grimace. 

     'Please say I  can I stay here, tonight? I don't think I can face her right now... '

    A heavy sigh came from Neil, and Saskia at first thought it was in despair of her. But he wrapped both arms round her this time and rested his chin on her head. 'Of course you can... we'll face her together tomorrow.'  How they would approached that, he had no clue. Despite Beverly's health being on a welcoming upsurge, he feared she may not have the strength for such repugnance thrown upon her. But right now, in the middle of this fallacious torment, his daughter needed him more.    

     'It's getting late, I'll make us some of that Horlicks stuff you like.'  As if a hot malty drink would live up to it's sleepy promise after you've been quizzed over incest. 

     As he waited for the kettle to boil, he looked over and saw that Saskia had curled herself into a ball of shear fear, while his stomach felt sickeningly gnarled and knotted. He couldn't quite believe these past few hours. Once the hot beverages were ready, he walked over to her and noticed a bright coral had stained her cheeks and chest area, tailor-made by her own brain playing on her deepest fears, all cried out.

     'C'mon now.. sit up young lady.'  Doing so, she carefully accepted her mug and wiggled off her sandals as he sat next to her, giving his appointed usual chair a miss. 

     'What are we going to do, Dad? I'll die if I lose you.'

     He gently patted her thigh, trying to comfort her with a useless 'there there' gesture. 'Won't be easy, I know, but we carry on as usual. Things were fine till this point -  giving up would look more of a give away.'

     'I swear to God I haven't breathed a word. To anyone.' 

     'I know,' he said, and he believed that she hadn't let down her guard, not once. But he had with Brian -  something she wasn't aware of - yet trusted him implicitly. He'd have 'fessed up anyhow if he had confided in any woman.

     'We've been so careful though!' She whispered out the words while racking her brains, the whole whodunnit dominated her thoughts.  

     'Yeah,' Neil sighed, still in puzzle mode himself over that one. He'd even went as far as wondering if it was anything to do with the hotel staff back at Christmas, or some jealous 'I'll wait down the line then strike ' moment, from Julia. 'I know.'

     'D'you think we'll ever find out who she is?'

     'Probably not... but it's your mum we should be more concerned about.'

     A tingle of goosebumps spread over Saskia's shoulders and tops of her arms at the at the mention of her. 'That's why I'm giving her space. I don't know what conclusion she'll come to, but I didn't want to get into any conflict with her tonight. Can't we just leave her till the morning - decide what to do then?'

     It was a fair enough ask. If her head was anywhere near as muggy and mentally smarting as their own, it badly needed rest.  Now, with reassurance holding no promises, an overwhelming, trite tiredness overshadowed the day's events.  Sorting things out soon-as had always been his strategy; getting things out of the way his style. With this arbitrarily sprung on him, and the anonymity of the bitch meddling in his affairs, this would be some struggle to not let it eat away at him.

     'I suppose,' he reluctantly agreed. But things will be a lot more gauche with her now. She'll have every reason to think that the police may be right.'

     Saskia gave a exaggerated sigh. 'I don't care what she says or thinks. She rarely asks about you and when she does it's just frivolous shit I tell her, she's usually not that interested anyway... I need you right now, Dad.'  Her voice sounded scratchy and he could tell by the nippiness of her tone that there should be no more mum talk. 

     Neil licked his lips. The salt and malt drink left an unpleasant, viscid coating and he relinquished both his and her mug to the table, sure he'd ballsed up in the making of them. 

     'We could just take off somewhere.' she suggested out of the blue.

     A pitiful smile spread over his face. 'I have considered it, believe me. But I don't think that's wise meantime. With the police having gotten involved, running away right now would reek heavily of guilt. Besides, it would take me a few weeks to sort work and business dealings out. If that was to happen, it should have happened well before now. But... ' he threw her a 'sorry-to-mention-her-again' gesture with his hand, 'I know you'd probably wanted to make sure your mum was okay health-wise first before setting off for a new life elsewhere.' 

     Disappointment spread through to her very bones and she hung her head, letting her hair cover the misery in her face. But he was right. A hiding place now would only bring temporary relief.  'Look... we always knew that there was a risk and the risk's upon us now, but we keep on as we are.' Using a saying his father portrayed as wisdom, he told her,  'Sometimes you have to just brave things out, see it through till the worst blows over.'

     'Huh! Will it ever?' she asked loud and narky. Patience was never her strong point, especially when tiredness was a factor.

     Neil was starting to feel a bit narky at her angst too. With his own bubbling away inside he could empathise, but it was starting to weary him. 'I don't have a crystal ball, Saskia, I'm about as perplexed at this as you.' He didn't want to use the word 'scared' - it would do more harm than good right now. Under all this crazy complexity, he was still the adult of the two.  

     'Do you think we'll be forced apart?'  The stark and utterly silent, shrieking terror that she could lose him stung strongly.

     He took a little too long to answer for her liking, sending her heart into galloping mode.

     'Do you?' she repeated. 

     His head dropped back for a long, thinking moment, before looking at her again. Offering her hands to be held in both of his, he pulled her up. 'Honey... I'm not even going to think like that. Anyone will lie for their own means to keep what's important to them safe, and if that's what it takes, that's what it takes.'

   'We fight, then?'

   'We fight as contrived a path as we can.'

   'Can't quite believe what's happening.' she laughed nervously, sniffing back the beginnings of a runny nose.

     'I know.' He felt he'd used those words a million times today. 'Look... unexpected fate brought us together and it's had to put up with us ever since. Didn't we always say what we have when doors close is ours? I'm not going to abandon you, abandon us.' 

     He leaned towards her and gave her a reassuring soft kiss, which didn't feel anymore wrong since their first one. 'Who's got the right to take love away?'  When that intrinsic, genetic link passed the boundary of decency, he felt there was even more strength by their bloodline. Choice or law played no part.

     Rising abruptly, he picked up the mugs and headed for the sink to rinse them out, wishing the vision of the police visit could swirl away down the plughole with this sickly stuff - which he tried to blame for the sudden nauseous feeling rising in his throat. 

    He knew fine that the police didn't believe their denials, that they were both licentious - born with a sickness of the soul which came with no cure.  Any attempt to heal it would end in protest from mind and body. They were lumbered with this love, burdened by sweet disaster.

     But one thing Neil was certain of. This wasn't the last they would hear from the police, not after their   stylized allusion. It would gratify them no end to see a nabob like him - a big shot millionaire with his guts and his glory - come crashing pejoratively down; even better if the story made headline news.

     Folding the dish towel neatly over the oven handle, he turned to see Saskia coiled back into a foetal ball.  He ripped himself from his theories and went over to her.

     'Are you okay?' he asked.

     'Not really. I'd gotten so used to calling you... ' she closed her eyes, holding them for a few long moments, '... Dad.'

     Neil didn't react to her defeatist tone. Exhaustion had ravaged the pair of them and he squatted to her level, stroking back her overlong fringe. 'We will have to brave it out, Saskia, whatever comes along, but it sounds as if the police want to put this one to bed,' he openly lied, 'and that's exactly where we should be.' He stood up, beckoned her with his fingers. 'C'mon.'  

    Slowly she unfurled her tense body and bones and took his hand with a sense of belonging.

     Before sliding into bed, she stood staring out the window and he caught sight of that blameful body through the sheer nightdress she slowly slipped on. Usually she reveled in not having to close the curtains and still have that open privacy, but he watched with sorrow as she made sure all the drapes and blinds were fully drawn. London would not be making its way under covers with them tonight. 

   He lay on his side and wriggled back, shaping her against his own body, feeling for her hand to clasp and rest round his middle as usual. Planting one light kiss on the back of it, he tucked it even tighter to him; not another word muttered. He could feel a tremble come from her, ever so slightly but there.

  Eyes closed, heads working overtime, heartbeats racing away in tandem, he hoped his father's usually chimerical advice would see them brave this through. But he also knew his father was the architect of his own destruction. Tonight, he'd never felt more like his father in his life.

                     end of  DOOM  OR  DESTINY       

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On A Rope (CH30)

             start of  ***ON  A  ROPE***

📓On Saturday, Saskia and her mother had to attend the wedding of a friend - making Sunday dinner with Neil a few hours later to cater for any hangover hang-ups. Since Saskia always called to let him know when she was setting off, an alert from reception baffled him. When told that it was the police, he felt his stomach drop.  Accident? Work break in? Car theft? That would have been far less feared and far easier dealt with. 

   The ping of the lift outside seemed to resonate louder when listening for it. The biggest dread he had tucked away and ignored for so long, with its it won't happen to us surety, was now indeed happening, and about to make its cold and unheralded entrance. As the shrill of the extended doorbell ring pierced the silence, the tense grip around his middle tightened. He closed his eyes, steeled himself, and grasped the doorknob.

    'Mr. Balfour?'

    'Yes,' Neil answered, frowning, hoping against hope that this was something connected with work. 

    'May we come in?'

    The first thing people usually do in the presence of police is ask right away what their visit was linked to before opening the door, but he swung it wide and guided them to the couch.  'Please,' he proffered a hand in the direction of his sofa's, 'take a seat.'  

    The men duly noted his quiet reaction to their criterion of interest; which could mean he knew what they might be here for, or it could be that he was just simply too nervous to ask. Neil however, duly noted that the men were wearing a suit apiece, rather than uniforms suggesting this was serious. He dreaded their words, but he'd have to be very careful with his own if his evincive hunch was right. Neil took a seat opposite them, certain his face portrayed the fear he felt.  The procedural actions to their inquiry began with introductions. Now crunch time had arrived. Fuck.

     'I'm Detective Bruce and this is Officer Prentice.'  

     He returned no pleasantry. 'Detective, huh? I'm obviously assuming it must be bad news. So... what brings you here? I'm guessing it's not for speeding,' he nervously joked. Neither man cracked a smile. Adding levity was not going to grace his favour. 'Break in at work again or something?'

     Both of them, (an older scrawny and overworked one who made the introductions) and his sidekick (half his age and twice the weight) gave no answer, just continued with the matter at hand. 'Can we just confirm that you know a Saskia Reymarr, Mr. Balfour?' 

     Yup. They'd gone straight for the jugular.  'My daughter... has something happened to her?' Neil leaned forward.

     The officers exchanged glances. 'No, she's not come to any harm, no accident or anything suchlike.'

     Anything suchlike? They knew.

     'That's good...' He simulated relief on that part. 'So what is it?'

     'We believe you've really only known of each other for a few months?'

     'Well since March, so yes.'

     'You get along okay?'

     'Fine.'

     'And you've built up a good relationship in the small period you've known each other, then?'

     'It's going well, so far.'

     'Bit of a shock, though, I guess. A daughter appearing out of the blue?' Prentice gave a contrived smile while taking notes, giving a miniscule shake of the head. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He would need to tread carefully, advance cautiously, avoid overcommitting. 'I don't mean to be rude, but where are we going with this?'

      Bruce, the older one, leaned himself more forward to exact precisely where they were.  'We're from the Sexual Offences Division.'

     Jesus Christ.                              

     'What!' Neil gulped down a huge lungful of air, and for a moment everything disconnected. He gave a strained smile. 'I don't understand?'

    The men exchanged glances once more.  'There's no easy way to put this, but we have been given information stating that you and your daughter may be involved in some...unnatural coupling.'  

     Neil frowned deeply. Bruce just said been given information, and not that there was any actual proof; it was vital not to slip up. The least said is the easiest mended. Darting his eyes from man to man in an attempt to look as if he didn't know what they meant, Prentice happily helped him out; he had no qualms in saying it.  'That you're involved with each other sexually.'

     No matter how geared up Neil felt against hearing the actual words, an ominous sensation still overwhelmed him; like a heavy blanket draping itself over him. His ears started to ring as blood rushed to his head, rendering him unpleasantly dizzy. But he had to grapple, take crucial control, whip up prior rehearsals into their feasible story. This scene played in his mind so many times at the start of entering into incest, and as time went on doubted it ever becoming an actuality. Yet here it was upon him.   

    Neil's hand flew to his mouth and closing his eyes, dragged it down over his lips and chin, all the while shaking his head.  'No, no, no, no, no!'  This movement was either saying: I've been rumbled or someone's got it in for me. He had to stick with the latter. 

     'I'm afraid so. We have to ask if it's true.'

     'Of course it's not true.. ' he snapped back, protestation his voice. '... what the fuck!' Then his head dropped, eyes on the carpet, quite clearly in shock. The men seemed to be in respect of that for a second or two, but needed to continue:

     'Any idea why somebody would make that up? It's a pretty sick accusation.'

     There were only two names flying around in his head. Brian or Saskia. Both he trusted implicitly. If it had come out during a row with Beverly, Saskia would have been straight on the phone to him - she made a promise to do that after her non-verbal weekend with Dan. 

     'Who am I suppose to be thinking of?'

     'Any associate have an axe to grind with you?'

     'What - like a disgruntled employee, rival, or jealous friend?'  He looked Bruce straight in the eye and the detective shrugged as if to say 'perhaps.'  'I have money - people tend to keep on your good side and most of my friends do okay for themselves anyhow, so I can't think of any enemies in that respect.'  It was a true enough assertion, and they believed he believed that.  'As for my work force, I demand results, but I pay a very decent wage, so not one person in particular springs to mind.  I don't think I've been uncouth enough to deserve this.'

     'Maybe someone thinks you have. And if it's untrue—' 

     'IF it's untrue... of course, it's untrue!'

    '—then that's a pretty cruel manner in which to punish someone.' 

     Starting to bite his bottom lip while tapping his foot - these visitants were quick at beginning to irk him - he stopped his motions the second he realised he was doing it; they'd pick up on any body languish. 'Look, I don't know what you're expecting from me, but I'd prefer not to be pussyfooted around, so what is it you're expecting to leave here with?'

   'I'm not sure what you mean, we're only following procedure, Mr. Balfour.' Prentice smiled at him.

   'Procedure?  A visit at this time in your Sunday best doesn't quite make one feel at ease, does it? A quiet word down at the nick not good enough? So excuse me if I have visions of being marched out of here in handcuffs after some coerced hefty confession!'

   'Confession? That's a bit strong?' The younger man frowned and stuck out his bottom lip, still looking down as he took notes; coming across contrived and knowing it. This little bloodthirsty fuck was enjoying this. But Bruce was quick to intervene, knowing how Prentice could be a little too keen to turn the thumbscrews.

   'Look, ' Bruced sighed. 'We're sorry if our presence has upset you, I know how intrusive it must feel, but we also have to consider that if the source of our information is lying, then you're the one getting the raw deal.'

  Despite being so pent up, Neil stayed quiet as if absorbing this. ' Yes, well,' he quietened his tone, 'your 'source of information' seems to have convinced you enough to act upon it. I take it you know who it was?'

   'We do, but I don't think that matters for now.' 

   'Why not? If someone has been given a raw deal, wouldn't they have the right to challenge it - know who's responsible for it?' Morally, of course, he was right. A police department wouldn't commit itself until it felt it had sound reasoning to, But both men knew though, they were unlikely to get anything incriminating directly from him. 

     'They would, they would. Look... maybe we're jumping too far ahead with this.' They'd been testing the water a little too deeply, and Neil was ahead of their questions a little too readily. It was important at this stage for them not to get out of their depth too soon, venture beyond their level of expertise prematurely - something Prentice would need to work a bit harder on.

     Neil sneered. 'Oh, you think so? Listen, this isn't something you do on a whim, is it? If you checked out every erroneous tip-off you got you'd be snowed under.  Someone's swayed you enough to check this nonsense out. You know as well as I do that this hasn't derived from the back of a simple phone call.' He stood, riling himself up again - enough now to shoot over to his decanter to fill himself a double and necking it. The glass cracked on it's slam down. 

   To them this showing of anger had two possibilities: One - frustration that the police know who called and had no meantime intention to disclose who. Two - the audacity of the person who involved them. 

 Whoever that was, most people wanted the bastard who dobbed them in punished - whether the bastard was telling the truth or not.  

     'Are you okay, Mr.Balfour?' Prentice asked, actually sounding sincere.

     'Of course, I'm not fucking okay... would you be?'

     A fraught silence fell until Neil apologised for his outburst, which was okayed by Bruce raising his hand and giving a curt nod. And while they seemed to be showing a fragment of understandability, he thought he played the deception card.   

     'I get that you have to follow up on information, but this is all wrong. Aye, my daughter's with me a lot, we've a lot of catching up to do, but she's got her own room there,' he explained calmly, pointing to a door. 'See for yourself - there's girly stuff's scattered everywhere. Does my bloody head in at times.'

     Ironically, they made a point of always leaving her bed with that 'slept-in-it' look - mainly for Valerie's benefit when she had come to clean it. But his words didn't really pack a punch or prove anything, although Price jotted something down then put his notepad into his pocket. Still, they both kept shtum.

   Neil gave a near-empty sigh. 'So what's gonna happen here onward?'

The question was ignored at first as Bruce had tapped Prentice on the shoulder, indicating with his head it was time to go. There were no more questions for now they could usefully ask; both men knew they were unlikely to get anything incriminating directly from him.  'We'll be going now, thanks for your time.' And they headed for the door.

     'Should I be needing legal advice?' Neil asked while following them on their exit before they had the chance to leave. 

    Had Prentice just foretasted a whiff of panic? A sly smirk crossed his face for the briefest moment before turning to answer him. 'Well, there's no arrest about to take place - with no solid proof there would be no need for that. The informant's probably got the wrong end of the stick, or even acted on hearsay - we don't know for sure. We have to follow up complaints nonetheless... besides, I'm sure Miss Reymarr will corroborate what you've told us.'  This was the part of the job he (and every smart-arsed detective) loved the most; the parting comments. 

     A  horrid heat spread over Neil's chest. 'You're going to see her now?'

     'No, we're not. Two officers are with her presently - both women, seeing as it's such an indelicate subject.' 

    'What? Surely there's no need to press any of this nonsense onto her?' 

    'Unfortunately we do. It takes two to tango, if you get the drift.'

    'Okay.'  He closed his eyes, nodding his head. No protest or outburst of any kind here would make matters better. He felt buggered. Good style.

     'Thanks for your time, Mr. Balfour. I shouldn't think you'll be seeing us again.'

     Closing the door behind them, he turned to rest against it, sagging in the middle with relief - but only because they'd gone. No way was this the end of it. That he knew. Not a hope in hell.

Back in the car, young Prentice slammed the door on the passenger's side and stated explicitly and loudly: 'He's a lying bastard.'

     'What makes you say that?' his partner asked.

     'Did you notice the photo on the side table?'

     'Course I did, Gary. It's our  job to notice everything.'

     'Well... all I can say is if it is her with him in that picture, my hand would be up her skirt too.' Bruce shot him a look, but Prentice wasn't sure if it was through amusement or irritation. 'What?'

     'Fuck's sake, man... your powers of deduction are impressive - d'you that?'  And with a twisted smile he pulled away, his curiosity to compare what story the female inspectors brought back to the station, stronger than ever.

                                   *                                             *                                          *                                                           

Pacing the flat, all sorts of crazy theories were going on in his head. Who? Why? How? The day they feared the most had been lying in wait after all, risk hanging more heavily over them with every clandestine move they made. A vast rehearsal of denials and excuses would need to be practiced ready for their part to play in keeping them unbroke;  caution and carefulness executed with utmost precision.  No inappropriate conduct in public, never sending incriminating texts - not even for deletion - and living their outside lives on everyone else's terms. They never thought they would ever have to use any protection plan.

There was no point in beating his brains out, it could only have come from one of two sources; Brian or Saskia, but surely she wouldn't have done anything stupid? And Brian had no reason to break his confidence or his promise. Not without facing Neil first.  Could the secret have been festering away inside Brian and he's talked? Then he dismissed the thought, Brian wouldn't do that.  But one thing was for sure - unless Beverly had been out this evening, she now knew. From her end, it was down to Saskia and how she was handling the questions and facts that vitally counted.  These officers were trained in getting to the truth and she would have to master a way out of this in regard to her mother, too.  He prayed she'd be strong. He wasn't ready to give her up. Only death held that role.

    The air indoors suddenly felt stifling, and Neil needed a breathing spell outside. Usually he treated his balcony as a podium to reflect, think and chill, but all he felt was fear and the whiskey burning like acid in his throat and rib cage - the Jack Daniels not giving him even the briefest pardon from this unfolding nightmare. And as much as he was tempted to call her, he opted for the cowardly approach and would wait until she called him. 

    It took a short while for him to realise that his jumper felt damp, that a misty rain was falling. Skies overhead rolled violet and anthracite - dramatically dark. The black clouds he could see through the lessening light lay in jagged stripes that ripped through the sky to his core. Where was the lilac horizon that said an early goodnight to London? If anywhere he hoped it was inside Saskia.  

   While turning to go back inside, his visitor-alert box buzzed. He walked straight to it. Pausing momentarily, he answered it to hear,

     'Dad, it's me... ' 

                   end of  ON  A  ROPE