Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

‘ W hat's she like to work for?' Ana asked as they strolled through the village. The smell of yeasty bread wafted over them as they passed the bakers.

‘Best doughnuts in the world,' Matt said, waving at a young girl behind the counter. ‘I can vouch for their custard ones.' Matt's mouth watered at the thought.

‘So, what's she like?' repeated Ana.

‘Not a doughnut girl then?' said Matt.

‘Custard tarts,' she said with a smile. ‘So what's she like to work for?'

‘Beth?' Matt grinned. ‘I mean DS Harper. Yeah, she's okay. She's a good boss.'

‘All right, Matt.' Nat from the butchers waved.

‘I'm good, mate. Save me a nice lamb chop, will you?'

‘Sure thing,' said Nat, staring openly at Ana.

‘This is DC Rawlins. She started with us this morning.'

‘Right,' said Nat. ‘Welcome, not one of those vegetarians, are you?'

Ana laughed. ‘No, give me a good steak any day.'

‘That's my speciality.' Nat grinned.

‘Good butchers,' said Matt. ‘You won't get a better steak.'

Ana smiled. ‘Is food all you talk about?'

‘No,' he laughed, ‘just most of the time.'

Ana glanced at the yarn store on the corner. ‘Such a cute place.'

As they continued walking through the village, Matt stopped several times to talk to people or wave to others.

‘Is there anyone in this village you don't know?' asked Ana.

Matt laughed. ‘Yeah, loads.' He glanced sideways at her. She was pretty enough to be a model, and he couldn't help wondering why she had chosen to be a copper. ‘So how come you got sent here?' he asked.

‘I requested a transfer,' she said, stopping to stroke a dog.

‘From up north?'

‘You ask a lot of questions.' She smiled.

Matt liked her. He hadn't had a girlfriend since Jo. He hadn't wanted all that aggravation again, but Ana might be worth it. ‘I'm a nosy sod.'

‘From Kirby, actually,' said Anna. ‘I wanted to experience police work outside of Kirby. I felt like I spent most of me time breaking up fights at the footie, you know?'

‘I don't think you'll find it much more exciting here.'

‘We'll see,' she said ominously.

Matt was about to ask her what she meant when she spotted a man struggling to get a wheelchair over the high kerb and hurried towards him.

‘Let me help you,' she said.

‘They've closed the bottom of the road,' said the man. ‘The kerb is much lower there. Honestly, I can manage.'

‘She's new,' joked Matt. ‘Let her make a good impression.'

Ana pushed the wheelchair up the kerb, deliberately rolling it over Matt's foot.

‘Touché.' Matt laughed.

‘This is Tim Smith,' said Matt. ‘Tim is part of our neighbourhood watch scheme.'

Ana smiled, but her eyes were on the woman in the wheelchair.

‘Ah,' said Matt, remembering. ‘Did you hear that trail bike in the early hours, Tim?'

Tim straightened his rucksack, which had slipped when struggling with the wheelchair and shook his head. ‘Not this time. I wear earplugs these days. I've heard it before. Little buggers. Do you know who they are?'

‘We're looking into it today. Have you ever seen any of them close up?'

‘You must be joking. The way they race through here, you never get to see their faces. They're going to kill someone one of these days.'

Meanwhile, Matt noticed Ana was attempting to chat with the woman in the wheelchair.

‘It's not one of her best days, I'm afraid,' Tim said apologetically. ‘Some days, she's more with it than others.'

Ana looked up. Tim was frowning, so she quickly backed away and let him take the wheelchair.

When he was out of earshot, Ana said, ‘What's up with the old woman?'

A pained expression crossed Matt's face. ‘She's not that old as it happens. I don't think she's even sixty.'

Ana looked upset. ‘You're kidding. What happened to her?'

Matt's throat thickened with emotion. He'd known Tim since their school days, and his memories of tea at Tim's house had been good ones. Vanessa had made these enormous scones. They'd lather them in jam and clotted cream and eat them until the jam ran down their chins.

‘Hit and run,' he said, struggling to disguise his emotion. ‘Three months ago, April 14th, Vanessa, Tim's mum, was on her way home from bingo. The driver came out of nowhere. Vanessa's friend said the impact threw her in the air. The bastard drove off. We never caught him. The accident left her with a severely injured spine and mild brain damage. Some days, she's really with it, like Tim said, and at others, not so much. Tim's been her carer ever since. He refuses to allow her to go into a home. It will be a slow recovery, but he worries a rehabilitation home will depress her.'

Ana gasped. ‘Oh my God, that's awful.'

Matt took a deep breath. ‘That's life. He's a good bloke, Tim. We've been friends since our school days. His aunt sits with her when Tim gets some work. He's a gardener. So, if you ever need one–'

‘I live in a flat,' Ana broke in.

Matt wanted to ask her where but decided against it.

Ana frowned. ‘What about CCTV cameras?'

‘What CCTV cameras?' Matt asked, puzzled.

‘Where Vanessa was knocked down.'

‘It was a residential road. They were walking to the bus stop. There were no CCTV cameras.'

Ana sighed. ‘There must have been something.'

‘I wasn't on the case.'

‘Can I look into it?'

Matt looked surprised. ‘You'd have to speak to the guv.'

‘DS Harper?'

Matt shook his head. ‘DI Stephens. You'll meet him. I doubt you'll find anything new, though.'

Ana smiled. ‘No harm in looking.'

‘Let's get to Ludbrook Grove. I should warn you the clientele there are very different.'

Ana didn't turn a hair when they arrived at Ludbrook Grove. ‘No one here is going to dob in your trail bike rider,' she said.

Matt raised his eyebrows in interest. ‘Why do you say that?'

‘People on estates tend to stick together out of loyalty; or because they are too afraid to do anything else.'

‘Let's have a wander,' he said. ‘Mind the used needles.' He had hoped to shock her, but Ana seemed to take everything in her stride.

‘I'm surprised you've got heroin addicts here in Oxford. Do the council know about the needles?' she asked.

‘I got on to them today. I'm always on at them.'

A group of lads were kicking a football around in the park. They looked over at Ana and Matt. ‘Here are the pigs in their candy car.' One laughed.

Matt said to Ana out of the corner of his mouth, ‘That's Freddie Skinner, with the shaven head. We visited him last night.'

Ana stepped confidently towards the lads. ‘Are you as good with that ball as you are with your mouth?' she asked, a slight smirk on her face.

‘Better,' said Skinner, his eyes boring into hers.

‘Good on a trail bike, too, are you?'

Skinner gave her a lopsided grin, turned and spat onto the ground, just missing her foot.

Ana looked impressed. ‘Good shot,' she said. ‘I couldn't have done better myself.'

‘Yeah, I'm good at everything,' he boasted.

‘What about on a trail bike?'

‘I already told him,' he said, nodding towards Matt. ‘I ain't got no trail bike.'

Matt was trying not to look at the scabs on Skinner's shaved head.

‘We're at college, mate, summer holidays.'

‘Good at college too, are you?' asked Ana.

He grinned. ‘Yeah, as it 'appens, I am.'

‘But not good on a trail bike?' said Ana, turning her back and walking away.

‘I told you I ain't got no trail bike.'

‘I'm disappointed because that means you're not good at everything – because I hear that bloke is ace on that bike,' she threw over her shoulder.

‘He ain't that good,' said Skinner without thinking.

Ana turned and smiled. ‘So you do know him?'

Matt looked at her admiringly.

‘I didn't say I knew him. I just seen 'im,' said Skinner.

‘Well enough to know how good he is on it,' said Matt.

Ana turned to the other lads. ‘Who's the boss of this gang then?'

‘We ain't in no gang,' said Skinner.

‘Yeah, right, and I ain't a copper. He wouldn't protect you. You know that?' she said, staring straight into Skinner's eyes.

‘We don't know nothing,' said Skinner.

‘We'll be back,' said Ana, walking away. ‘I'd see a doctor about that eczema if I were you,' she added.

When they were out of earshot, Matt said, ‘You made an impression.'

‘That was my intention,' said Ana with a wink.

They walked past run-down houses with shabby net curtains and shopping trolleys in the front gardens.

‘I never get why people nick trolleys,' said Ana.

‘Good for stacking the stolen goods in,' said Matt, in a matter-of-fact tone.

They strolled past several garages scrawled with graffiti until they reached a small block of flats.

‘Local brothel,' said Matt. ‘We get called out a few times here. You know, neighbours complaining about shouting and whatnot.'

Ana raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘Is this part of your patch, then? I always thought Oxford was a posh place.'

Matt laughed. ‘Not all of it.'

‘Got a new mate?' shouted a female voice.

Ana turned to see a young, pretty girl carrying a rubbish bag to the bins. ‘Yeah, I'm new,' she called back. ‘DC Ana Rawlins.'

‘Is that right,' said the girl, dumping the bag into a recycling bin. ‘Bit early to catch us, ain't yer?'

Ana smiled, walking toward her. ‘Just exploring.'

‘Well, you've seen us now, so you can bugger off.'

The insult was like water off a duck's back to Ana. She can't be more than eighteen if she's that , thought Ana, walking closer. Ana could now see the streaked mascara around the girl's deep-set eyes and smell the faint odour of stale alcohol on her breath. ‘You don't know the prick who owns that trail bike, do you?' she asked.

The girl's eyes widened and she turned to Matt. ‘Is she for real?'

Matt was too surprised to answer.

‘Nah, I don't, but you're right. He's a pain in the arse, prick,' she said to Ana. ‘Drives us fucking bonkers.'

Ana smiled. ‘If you do hear anything, can you let us know?' She handed the girl her card.

‘Yeah, sure. Ta.'

‘Thanks…' Ana deliberately hesitated.

‘Frankie,' said the girl.

‘Great, well, you take care, Frankie.'

Matt followed her as she returned to where the panda was parked. ‘Making new friends?' he asked.

Her steely eyes met his. ‘It's the bastard pimps that use those girls you ought to be watching,' she said and got into the car without another word.