‘Because if you’re anything to go by… I just don’t want the hassle.’
Tomek understood that, appreciated her candidness. ‘How big is he?’
‘Nine pounds and nine ounces,’ Sharif answered.
‘Bloody hell, Nads. What you been feeding him?’
‘A strict diet of frogs’ legs, caviar and mushrooms. What do you think?’
It was then that Tomek saw Nadia in her rawest, most vulnerable beauty. Her hair and face were covered in sweat, and the bags under her eyes looked about ready to be checked in for a first-class flight to the other side of the world. Yet she looked glowing somehow, as though she contained all the joy in the world, captured in her expression and smile. Tomek didn’t know what was going on in his mind – was this what it felt like to be broody? – but he didn’t like it.
‘He’ll be the one pushing you through the hospital doors next time,’ he said. ‘But at that point, you’ll be sick and infirm.’
The glow on her face dwindled slightly. ‘I might be on a lot of medication and painkillers right now, Tomek, but I will throttle you if you say one more thing that might upset me. And don’t think I won’t just because you’re my senior…’
Tomek raised a hand to his head in mock salute. ‘Yes, Captain. Understood, Captain. And on that note, I’ll leave you to it.’
There were no objections from either Sharif or Nadia. And he couldn’t blame them. He’d already outstayed his welcome, and the last thing they wanted while they shared this precious moment with one another was him loitering around, reminding them of his one per cent contribution to the happiest day of their lives. A one per cent that he would try hard not to dine out on too much over the coming days.
Before he left, he kissed Nadia on the cheek, stroked the little guy’s forehead, then shook Sharif’s hand.
As he got to the door, Nadia called him back.
‘Tomek?’
‘Yes…’
‘If you tell anyone at the station about how bad I look, I will set fire to everything you love.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tomek hadn’t been able to come up for air in nearly twenty minutes. As soon as he’d set foot through the doors to the major incident room, he’d been surrounded by his colleagues, badgering him, bombarding him with a dozen questions a second. They were like a ravenous pack of hyenas, desperate, and Tomek was very much their prey, and the information they wanted was the meat on his bones. He had begun to understand what it was like for celebrities being hunted down by paparazzi, having almost every aspect of their life scrutinised. His colleagues, Rachel and Martin in particular, had wanted moment by moment updates. The three words, “And then what? And then what? And then what?” had been promoted to the barred list in the office. He didn’t want to hear, see, or even think about those words for a long time.
After he’d satiated the hungry crowd with his slightly embellished story (taking the one per cent up to an agreeable four or five), he headed towards his desk. He made it as far as placing his hand on the back of his chair when he heard Detective Inspector Victoria Orange call his name from the other side of the office.
Sighing heavily, Tomek took a moment to compose himself before making his way over.
‘If I have to explain what happened one more time, I’m handing in my notice,’ he told her.
She hovered in the doorframe, arms folded across her chest. She was dressed in a pair of smart trousers and a bright orange floral shirt that illuminated the room. ‘I’ve already heard,’ she said.
‘How?’ He tried to hide the surprise and slight disgust in his voice, but it was unsuccessful.
‘Sharif,’ she answered. ‘He called me from the hospital to tell me that both mother and son were fit and healthy.’
‘So you knew, but didn’t want to say anything to the rest of the team?’
‘Not when I knew how much they’d eat you alive when you got back. I must admit, it was quite the watch.’
Tomek glared at her.
‘Anyway, come in. There’s something I think you might want to hear.’
As Tomek crossed the threshold into her office, he was hit in the face by a wall of cold air. For some ungodly reason, she had her air conditioning unit on in the middle of March, when it was still below ten degrees outside, and had been for the past few weeks. He shut the door behind him and hovered, balancing his weight on his left foot.
‘What have I done?’
‘It’s a shame that’s your go-to response, but I can’t lie, even I’m surprised that I’ve not called you in for some misdemeanour or for your ill-fated behaviour.’
‘This must be serious then.’
‘Quite the opposite.’ Victoria rounded her desk and sat, brushing her hair out of her eye line. ‘This morning, while you were gone, a woman came in. A woman called Rose Whitaker, with the rest of her family. They’ve come to report a missing person.’
‘Right.’ He braced himself for what was to come, fearing the worst, even though he knew from the context of the conversation so far that, on the balance of things, it wouldn’t be.
‘There’s no need to look so afraid. I’m not giving you the sack.’
‘Couldn’t even if you wanted to,’ Tomek said defiantly. ‘Only my mate, Nick, can do that.’
Victoria shook her head. ‘Now I’m starting to have second thoughts. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all.’
Tomek pulled out the chair opposite and sat. ‘No, no. I’m all ears. Shoot it, sister.’
The finger gun he fired at her didn’t land. She sighed heavily through her nostrils, and leant forward, resting her elbows on the desk.
‘I was going to instate you as SIO in the investigation.’
‘Me?’
