Page 21 of The Impossible Fortune

‘What would you like to talk about this week, doyou think?’ Ibrahim asks. ‘Have I missed anything interesting?’

‘You never miss anything,’ says Connie.

‘That’s very true,’ says Ibrahim. ‘I’m a hawk. Honestly, the size of these meringues.’

12

Donna De Freitas is not happy. She should be enjoying a day off with Bogdan. They’d been at a wedding reception last night: Joyce’s daughter was marrying a man who seemed very nice, but who had a very interesting family when you looked him up on the police computer, which Donna had, of course, done. Donna looks everyone up. Paul Brett is the name.

She should still be in bed with Bogdan, watchingHomes Under the Hammer, listening to him shout, ‘There is asbestos in that bathroom ceiling, you idiot,’ to a first-time property developer from Swansea. Occasionally, very occasionally, Bogdan will nod his head slowly and say, ‘That is good plastering.’ It is usually when the house buyer is Polish, plastering being a skill that, in Bogdan’s estimation, takes a wild dip about thirty miles west of Gdansk.

Chris is not at the station this week. He’s still on his firearms training, and Donna is being destroyed by jealousy. If there’s one place she’d rather be than watchingHomes Under the Hammerin bed with Bogdan, it’s doing firearms training. He wouldn’t stop talking about it at the wedding. They let him have a sub-machine gun the other day. A sub-machine gun? Chris! Sometimes life isn’t fair.

To make it worse, instead of being given an easy ride as she waits for his return, Donna has been called in for ‘extraduties’. She has been sent out onto the streets of Fairhaven on ‘security patrol’. There is a royal visit next week, and every available body has been drafted into sweeping and scouring Fairhaven looking for security threats. Someone acting out of the ordinary, a car parked where it shouldn’t be. Half the station is pounding the beat with resentful looks on their faces. No one is revealing which royal is visiting Fairhaven, but after ruining Donna’s day off it had better be a good one, like the King, and not just Prince Edward or something.

Very little was coming through the radio as Donna walked down the high street, peering into rubbish bins. There was brief excitement earlier when a man in Mad about the Soy said he’d had a gun pointed at him. But by the time an officer had attended the call, the man had decided he’d been mistaken and apologized for wasting everyone’s time.

She feels her phone buzz in her pocket and takes it out. Elizabeth.

Elizabeth had been at the wedding. She’d been quiet, but it was nice to see her out and about. Three or four times a week Bogdan pops in to see her, and once in a while Donna is summoned too. She’ll tell Elizabeth about some new murder or other, and Elizabeth will let her know where she’s going wrong. But she’s not the Elizabeth of old. She’s more polite now, on the defensive. Her pain is keeping her quiet. Donna longs to be patronized and dismissed by Elizabeth once more. Bogdan misses Stephen, but he won’t talk about it. Boys. Donna answers.

‘Hello, Elizabeth.’ Nice and gentle.

‘Are you roaming the town for this royal visit?’

Well, that was short and to the point. Encouraging.

‘How do you know about the royal visit?’ Donna asks. ‘It’s confidential.’

‘I’m grieving,’ says Elizabeth. ‘I’m not dead.’

Donna chances her arm. ‘I don’t suppose you know who it’s going to be?’

‘The Duke of Edinburgh,’ says Elizabeth.

Ooh, the Duke of Edinburgh, okay, that’s a good one. Donna will happily write down the number plates of parked cars for half an hour if she gets to meet the Duke of Edinburgh. He’s a proper character.

‘Is this a social call, Elizabeth?’ Donna asks. ‘Or did you need something and Bogdan’s not answering his phone?’

‘No, I thought you might be in the area,’ says Elizabeth, ‘and I wanted to report a break-in.’

‘A break-in in Fairhaven?’

‘No, a break-in on the moon, Donna,’ says Elizabeth. ‘For goodness’ sake.’

Ah, that old dismissive tone is back. Also encouraging.

‘I see,’ says Donna. ‘And what makes you think there’s been a break-in?’

‘We saw it,’ says Elizabeth. ‘A man climbing through a window. 8b Templar Street. The criminal might still be in the building, so you’ll need to get in there. We’ll wait for you.’

‘You’re there?’

‘Of course we’re there – we’re concerned citizens,’ says Elizabeth. ‘And how could we wait for you otherwise?’

‘Elizabeth, just ring the police.’

‘You are the police, dear,’ says Elizabeth.