Page 12 of The Scene of the Crime

‘I was wondering, if we are going to be working long hours, does that sofa convert into a bed?’ Taff joked.

‘There’s no way you’re ever sleeping in my office,’ Jessica said firmly.

‘Looks like you’ll have to do with the office floor then,’ Diane grinned.

This was the first time Williams had observed them together.I think we may have ourselves a good team, she thought to herself.

CHAPTER FOUR

When she got home, Jessica could smell something familiar cooking but wasn’t quite sure what it was. The oven was on, and David was sitting at the kitchen table, looking at a piece of paper. ‘What are you cooking?’

He handed Jessica the paper, and she instantly recognised their mother’s handwriting. ‘It’s Mum’s chicken casserole recipe, our favourite meal. We haven’t had it since she died, but I thought it would be a nice way to celebrate your success today. I’m making mashed potatoes with it, and there’s a bottle of champagne in the fridge. It’s from Lidl, but it’s won blind-tasting awards from experts. And there’s sticky toffee pudding with cream for dessert, but I bought that from M&S.’

‘Thanks, David, that’s so thoughtful of you. I really appreciate it. Can I do anything to help?’

‘Nope. It’s all under control. Ready in about half an hour?’

‘OK, I’ll just go and sort out the dirty laundry,’ Jessica said.

‘I’ve already put the washing on and hoovered and cleaned everywhere, even the bathroom.’

Jessica was taken aback. She knew David loved cooking, but she couldn’t remember if he’d ever done any housework. ‘You didn’t need to do all that, especially if your back is playing up.’

‘I took it nice and easy. Besides, you’re always telling me a clean house is a happy house, so I thought I’d give you a break and make you happy.’

Jessica glanced at him sideways. ‘Have you had your bike in here again?’ She looked around for any signs of cycle oil.

He laughed. ‘No, I just wanted to do something nice for you.’

‘All right, I believe you,’ she said and went to her bedroom. After changing into her tracksuit bottoms and a T-shirt, Jessica returned to the kitchen and started setting the table while David opened the champagne. They both said cheers and clinked glasses. She sipped hers but noticed that David quickly drank half a glass and immediately topped it up. David served the chicken casserole and mash, eager for Jessica’s reaction. ‘Just like Mum’s,’ she said, and he smiled.

While they ate, she told him about her meeting with Commander Williams, the office and the state-of-the-art laboratory facilities. When they finished, he cleared the table and Jessica did her best to hide her irritation at the haphazard way he put the dirty plates and cutlery in the dishwasher, as she liked them to be rinsed under the tap first and placed in the dishwasher a certain way.

As David was getting the sticky toffee pudding from the fridge, the washing machine beeped. Jessica stood up. ‘I’ll put the clothes in the tumble dryer,’ she said.

David wagged his finger at her. ‘No, you won’t. I’m in charge today, so sit down. You can pour us another glass of champagne if you want something to do.’

Jessica still had a full glass and poured a bit into David’s while he had his back to her. She watched as he pulled the clothes out and put them in the laundry basket, then her heart sank as she realised what he had done. She could see he’d mixed the coloured and white clothes and set the temperature dial to sixty degrees. As a result, the dye in the coloured clothes had bled out and turned her white silk blouse and underwear a pinky-grey colour. She saw her cotton jeans and a red jumper in among the load and realised they would most likely have shrunkat that temperature. Trying her best not to ruin the evening, Jessica swallowed her annoyance and said nothing. But David quickly noticed his error.

‘You are a fucking idiot!’ he muttered angrily to himself, swiping his hand against the sticky toffee pudding and accidentally knocking it to the floor. He looked forlornly at the soggy mess on the floor. Jessica calmly got up from her chair and grabbed the kitchen roll. David bent over and tried to scoop up the pudding, bits sliding back to the floor through his fingers. As he started to straighten up, his back went into spasm. He cried out in pain and collapsed to his knees.

Jessica knelt beside him and put her arm around his shoulder to help him up. ‘You’ve obviously done something serious to your back. You need to see a doctor.’

‘I’ll be fine, it’s just a bit of sciatica . . .’

‘You need to rest up. All that cycling and pushing heavy mail trolleys around doesn’t help. If you don’t book a doctor’s appointment, I will.’

‘All right,’ he said. ‘Point taken. I’ll do it on my laptop in the bedroom.’

‘I’ll run you a hot bath with some Radox, then I think you should go to bed and rest your back.’

David didn’t argue as she helped him to his room. While he bathed, Jessica cleaned up the mess from the sticky toffee pudding and placed it in the bin before mopping the floor. She then removed the dirty plates and cutlery from the dishwasher, rinsed them in the sink and restacked them in an orderly way so they would be cleaned efficiently. Although David’s sloppiness annoyed her, she realised that her need to constantly tidy and clean irritated him just as much. He said she had an obsessive-compulsive disorder, and from her psychology studies, Jessica knew there was some truth in it. She recognised that her OCD had been triggered by the traumas she had experienced. Hercompulsive behaviour served as a coping mechanism, which, ironically, also happened to make her exceptionally thorough in her work as a crime scene investigator.

David hobbled in. ‘Sorry for the mess and ruining the evening,’ he said miserably.

‘The clothes and the pudding are not important, David. It’s your health I’m concerned about. Did you book an appointment at the doctor’s?’

‘The best I could get was a telephone appointment with Doctor Barnes on Monday morning. It’s a two-week wait for a surgery appointment.’