Think of the Children (25 page)

Once inside, Reynolds closed the door. ‘Just be careful,’ he said firmly, looking directly at Jessica, who was sitting on the corner of her desk.

‘I was just saying what we were all thinking. Or should have been thinking.’ Jessica was feeling defensive but also a little shaken. She had never known Cole become so angry, whether
as chief inspector or in his old DI role.

‘Yes, but there are right ways to do things,’ Reynolds went on. ‘Don’t forget he’s getting it from all sides.’ Jessica shrugged, feeling uncomfortable.
‘Are you okay?’ he added.

‘Fine.’

The inspector weighed her up for a moment before responding. ‘Right, I’m heading off. Have a good Christmas and … don’t do anything
stupid
.’ Jessica knew he
was also referring to leaking information. Louise didn’t add anything except for a ‘Merry Christmas’ and left the room, leaving Rowlands and Jessica alone.

The two officers stared at each other before Dave finally cracked and burst out laughing. ‘That was hilarious,’ he said in between sniggers. ‘It was like being in church or
assembly at school and you’re just holding it in, desperately trying not to laugh.’

Jessica tried to remain serious but her friend’s laughter was infectious and she couldn’t help smiling. ‘I’m glad you find it funny.’

‘Oh, it was. For a moment I thought he’d actually swear. Everyone’s always going on about how calm he is. Imagine if he’d actually told you to f-off or
whatever.’

‘Do you remember that shit game you lot started playing a while back?’ Jessica asked.

‘The “trying to get the DCI to swear” game? Of course. It was my idea.’

‘No one managed it then?’

‘No, but I got close. I found this news article online about some agricultural argument thing in Somerset. The headline was, “Forking Hell”. I tried to get him to read it out
loud but he wasn’t having it.’

‘In other words, you forked up.’

It was such a bad pun that neither of them could resist laughing.

‘That was pathetic,’ Rowlands concluded when he had composed himself.

Jessica couldn’t deny that. ‘Are you busy on Christmas Eve?’ she asked.

He screwed his face up. ‘I don’t know. I’m probably going to be buying everyone’s presents.’

‘Seriously? I thought you’d finally grown up?’

‘Just joking. Chloe and me are spending the day together.’

‘Do you fancy coming to mine?’

‘What for?’

‘I’m cooking everyone Christmas Dinner a day early.’

Rowlands snorted. ‘No, seriously, what for?’

Jessica refused to take the bait. ‘Seriously. I’m cooking everyone dinner. Me, my mate Caroline, my boyfriend Adam, Hugo, plus you and Chloe if you’re up for it.’

Dave must have realised Jessica wasn’t joking as he stopped smiling. ‘Hugo’s going?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re seeing that Adam dude again?’

‘Yes.’

‘
You’re
cooking?’

‘Yes!’ Jessica almost shouted the final response.

‘But you don’t cook. The last time I was round, you burned a frozen pizza then ended up getting everyone to chip in for a takeaway.’

‘So what?’

‘Well, what are we having?’

‘A Christmas dinner. Roast potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, parsnips, turkey, gravy. You know, a Christmas dinner.’

Dave stared back at her clearly not knowing what to say before finally stumbling over a reply. ‘I don’t eat peas.’

‘Who doesn’t eat peas?’

‘I don’t. They’re all green and little and just
pea-y
.’

‘Whatever. I’ll leave them off your plate. Are you coming?’

The constable didn’t seem to know how to respond, finally throwing his hands up. ‘Fine. I’ll check with Chloe but it should be all right. We’ll be there.’

‘Brilliant. Three o’clock.’

‘Fine. There’s no way I’m going to miss this. I’ll make sure I’ve got the numbers “nine” and “nine” typed into my phone, then the minute you
set the kitchen on fire, I’ll press the other “nine”. Let’s just hope the fire brigade aren’t on another call.’

The exchange with Rowlands calmed Jessica to such a degree that she wasn’t fuming by the time she arrived at Adam’s house to pick him up. She parked on the road
outside and phoned him because she didn’t fancy getting out of the vehicle to ring the doorbell. He laughed at her laziness but soon emerged from the house carrying a small overnight bag
across his shoulder and a suit hanger in his hand, which he put on the back seat, then sat in the front.

‘What’s with the suit?’ Jessica asked, pulling away.

‘I figured if we’re staying at yours tonight and you’re cooking for Christmas tomorrow, it’d be nice to dress a bit smartly.’

‘Is this to guilt me into wearing a dress?’

Adam laughed. ‘You’re so suspicious all the time.’

‘It comes with the job.’

He chuckled again. ‘What’s the plan?’

‘We’ve got to go to the supermarket to get some bits for tomorrow. I called Caz earlier and she doesn’t mind sleeping on the sofa tonight. We’re going to clear all the
furniture to one side tomorrow, then pull the dining table out from the kitchen and eat in the living room.’

‘And you’re really cooking?’

Jessica sounded as indignant as she could. ‘Yes. Why does no one believe me? Caroline thought I was joking too.’

‘Maybe it’s because you don’t cook?’

‘I do.’

‘Pot noodles, beans on toast and heating up a poppadom to go with a takeaway curry isn’t cooking.’

‘What is it then?’

‘Heating food. You don’t cook, you heat.’

‘Well, thanks for your confidence.’

Jessica didn’t particularly feel aggrieved and was aware her friends had a point. She had no idea why she’d decided to do something completely out of the ordinary for her. Since
getting back together with Adam, she had made a pact of sorts with herself to stop being so stuck in her ways. The thought of cooking a large meal for herself and five of her closest friends was
terrifying but she resolved to go with it.

The supermarket was heaving with people who seemingly had a similar idea to Jessica about buying food before Christmas Eve. Children were running in all directions and stressed adults heaving
overflowing trolleys of alcohol and food up and down the aisles. Jessica could feel herself becoming frustrated by the lack of room to manoeuvre – and because a wheel on the back of the
trolley she had chosen didn’t seem to face the same direction as the other three. Adam said he was happy to push but that would have felt too much like giving in, so she continued to fight
against it, tolerating his gentle amusement.

After finding most of what they needed, Jessica was left looking for one final item. She stopped one of the female workers walking past. ‘Do you know where the flour is?’ she
asked.

‘Flowers? We sell bunches in the front, right where you walk in.’ The woman took two steps to walk away but Jessica managed to reply in time.

‘Not “flowers”, “flour”, as in the stuff you make cakes with.’

The worker spun around. ‘Oh right, “flour”.’ She pointed towards an aisle Jessica had already checked twice. ‘It’s that one, aisle twenty.’

‘I already looked there.’

‘It’s about three-quarters of the way down the aisle at the bottom.’ The person went to walk off but Jessica again stopped her.

‘Can you show me?’

‘Er yeah, I … okay.’ The woman started heading quickly past Jessica in the direction she had indicated.

Jessica struggled to rotate the trolley, finally managing to turn it just in time to see the woman entering the aisle.

‘Are you all right?’ Adam asked.

Without looking at him, Jessica knew he had a smug grin on his face. She ignored him, walking as briskly as she could before sliding to a stop and skidding around the corner into aisle twenty
herself. She was looking forward to the over-confident supermarket worker being proven wrong but felt her heart sink as she saw the woman pointing at a spot on the shelf she had definitely gone
past twice.

As Jessica approached, the worker was still pointing and sounded particularly cocky. ‘It’s just there, see. Aisle twenty.’

‘Thanks very much,’ Jessica replied through gritted teeth. The worker walked away and Adam crouched down to pick up a bag of flour.

‘Plain or self-raising?’ he asked.

‘It wouldn’t surprise me if the flour wasn’t here at all but that smug bitch just grabbed a few off the shelves somewhere else to make us look stupid,’ Jessica said.
‘We walked up and down here twice.’

Adam grinned up at her, repeating his question.

‘I don’t know, what’s the difference?’ Jessica asked.

‘One raises, the other doesn’t.’

‘All right, smart-arse. Which one should I use?’

‘You’re the chef.’

‘Fine. Get both and I’ll use half of each.’

Adam stood and put one of each type of flour in the trolley. ‘Are we done?’

‘Yes, if I spend any longer in here, I might just murder someone. Preferably one of those little shits who keep running up and down.’

Jessica did her best to wheel the trolley to the end of the aisle. As far as she could see, each checkout counter had at least two people in line. ‘We’ll use the self-service ones at
the bottom,’ she said to no one in particular, shunting the cart in and out of the queuing people until she reached the tills that allowed people to scan their own shopping.

‘Do you want me to scan?’ Adam asked.

‘No, I’m fine.’

Jessica was determined to retain some degree of control and started to swipe items, as Adam helped put them in bags. As they neared the end, she reached the alcohol they had bought. She scanned
the bottle of vodka and a message appeared on the screen warning she had to be over eighteen. Adam placed the bottle in a bag but it wouldn’t let her process any more items. Jessica looked up
to see a red light whirring above her head and a spotty-faced young man hurrying towards her. The closer he got, the younger he appeared until Jessica concluded he was definitely no older than
thirteen or fourteen.

‘Is everything okay?’ he asked in a high-pitched voice.

‘Just this vodka,’ Jessica said. ‘It’s checking our age.’

The man looked her up and down. ‘Have you got ID?’

Jessica squinted at him, wondering if he was playing with her. ‘ID?’

‘Yes, to prove your age.’

‘Are you joking?’

‘Er, no, we require ID.’ The worker pointed to a sign above the counter which mentioned something about having to look over twenty-one to buy alcohol.

‘Do you think I look under twenty-one?’ Jessica asked.

‘I, er … we require ID,’ the man repeated.

‘I don’t have ID. I’m thirty-four, for crying out loud. I’ve not been asked for ID since I was about fifteen.’

‘I understand that, Madam, but …’

‘Am I on camera or something? Is this going to be on TV?’ Jessica knew some people who might feel flattered at being asked to prove their age but she certainly wasn’t one of
them. She knew there was no way she looked under eighteen, it was just this pre-pubescent was trying to make life difficult for her.

Adam spoke up. ‘I’ve got ID if it helps, here.’ He reached forward to show the man his driving licence but the worker shook his head.

‘Sorry, I can’t accept that because you could be buying it for her,’ he replied, nodding towards Jessica, his face utterly serious.

‘This is ridiculous,’ Jessica said. ‘Seriously, how old are you? Thirteen? Fourteen?’

‘Ma’am, I …’

‘Stop calling me that. Can I speak to your manager?’ Jessica could see someone else in line behind them listening to the conversation.

‘I’m sorry, the manager is currently busy. You could wait but it might be a while. He’ll only tell you what I already have anyway.’

Jessica was weighing up the best way to tell the man exactly what she thought of him before Adam interrupted. ‘It’s okay, we’ll just take the food.’

Despite stopping at an off-licence close to her house, Jessica was still angry when she arrived home, much to Adam and Caroline’s amusement. ‘You should take it as a
compliment,’ Caroline said but Jessica was having none of it.

Desperate not to completely mess things up, Jessica got up early the next morning and made a list of everything she had to do. Caroline had given her a cook book as a birthday
present, no doubt wanting to give her a nudge in the right direction. She hadn’t thought she would ever use it but now it would come in handy. She wrote down everything she was going to make,
noted how long everything should take, then worked backwards so she knew what she would have to cook first. Essentially, everyone was right when they said she didn’t cook but she figured that
was largely because she had never tried. As she read the method for making Yorkshire pudding, she thought it couldn’t be
that
hard.

That afternoon, Adam and Caroline rearranged the living room as Jessica continued to refuse any offers of help. Despite an accident opening one of the bags of flour which resulted in one of the
walls ending up with a fairly heavy dusting, Jessica thought she was doing a fairly good job – particularly judging by the smells coming from the cooker.

Hugo was the first person to arrive. Caroline answered the door and Jessica heard her welcoming him in. She hadn’t seen him in a few weeks, since her friend had moved in. His real name was
Francis and he was a part-time magician, although he didn’t seem to do anything else the rest of his time. He had helped her through a bad spell emotionally and always cheered her up when
they met. He was an old university friend of Dave.

Jessica was at the oven when the door opened and Hugo stepped in. She glanced towards him, quickly doing a double-take. He was wearing a full suit with canvas trainers that didn’t match
and, most bizarrely, a top hat. Despite the smartness of the suit, he still made it look scruffy. ‘What
are
you wearing?’ she asked.

Hugo shrugged dismissively as she had seen him do so many times before. ‘Dunno. I thought it best to dress up.’

‘What’s with the hat?’

Hugo took it off, twirling it impressively in his hand before putting it back on his head and shrugging again. ‘I’ve been trying a new look for the act.’ His long dark hair had
grown a little since the last time Jessica had seen him and was now below his shoulders. He had tied it back into a half-ponytail, so some of it was still loose.