Page 122 of First Blood

She shrugged. ‘They wanted to be.’

‘Not a natural cook, eh, guv?’

‘Hate cooking,’ she said, holding up the coffee pot. ‘And I’m shit at it.’

He nodded as he glanced back at the bin. ‘Err… so why do it?’ he asked. He hated mowing the lawn so avoided it at every opportunity. And scones were not a difficult thing to get hold of.

‘Because I’m shit at it. I’ll master it someday.’

Somehow he was not surprised by the response.

She reached into the top cupboard. ‘Mugs only, I’m afraid.’

‘Mug is fine,’ he said, wondering how to start the conversation. He took a breath. ‘Look, guv, I need…’

‘Kim,’ she said.

‘Yeah, guv, it’s just…’

‘Kim,’ she repeated.

He frowned and she met his gaze as she pushed a mug of coffee towards him. ‘I’m not at work. I’m in my home. It’s Kim not guv.’

He wasn’t sure he would ever be comfortable calling her by her first name.

‘But call me Kim at work and I’ll have you transferred.’

He hesitated.

‘Jeez, that was a joke.’

He knew her angry face very well. He clearly needed more practice on judging her jokey face.

She picked up her own drink. ‘This about what happened last night?’

He shook his head. ‘It’s about the promotion thing. Me going for DI.’

‘It’s never too late,’ she said, standing back and folding her arms. He appreciated the gesture but the doubt in her voice was obvious. He had tried twice and failed both times.

‘But that’s the thing, guv… sorry, Kim. I don’t bloody want it.’

She frowned. ‘Go on.’

‘The last two DIs I’ve worked with have kind of pushed me into going for it and I’m ashamed to say I’ve let them. But the thing is I like the work I do. I like being part of a team but I don’t want to run a team. I love my job and I like to think I do it well. I’m not cut out to be a DI and I’m getting a bit sick of trying to explain that.’

He knew that everyone in the force who had responsibility for other team members was required to encourage them up the ladder, to fulfil their potential, but he had come to realise that he was perfectly happy where he was. He was sick of being pushed into applying for a role to satisfy someone else’s team management objectives. And he wanted to make sure she understood.

‘It’s just…’

‘Consider it explained,’ she said, holding up her hand. ‘But quite honestly, Bryant, I have no clue what’s happening with this team. I have a 7a.m. meeting with Woody on Monday to discuss it.’

He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Despite the fact that the week had ended with him on his knees with a knife to his throat, he thought it had been a reasonable week. He wouldn’t mind another few just like it, but right now he’d just relax and enjoy the weight that had lifted from his mind.

He glanced around the kitchen and back into the lounge. Not one Christmas decoration or fairy light in sight and the main event was only six days away.

‘You going away for the?…’

‘I don’t do Christmas. Hate it. I’m on call. I take it every year.’