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‘Still here, Kate?’
Adam’s voice had been, as always, calm and soft, but it almost made Kate jump in her seat.
She hadn’t expected to see him until Monday.
The case they had been working on since the beginning of the week had broken in the afternoon with an unexpected, yet complete confession and, against all odds, they would have the weekend off.
Dalgliesh had disappeared not long after the arrest had been made to attend a meeting at the Home Office, or so he had said before leaving.
The day had been long and busy, the last of many they had spent working sixteen-hour shifts, and Kate had to admit she was now tired and longing to go home, but in the silence of the early evening, she could work faster and more thoroughly.
She knew it well that it made no difference whether it was now or Monday morning, but the empty office was too tempting to not stay and work undisturbed. Besides, she had no plan for the evening, except to go home and get a good night’s sleep.
‘Sir!?’ Kate said out of habit, as she signed the last page of her report, without looking up from her desk.
‘Time to call it a day, I’d say, sergeant.’
When she finally looked up at him, she hoped with her whole heart that in the semi-darkness he hadn’t noticed the grin that inevitably had formed on her lips.
‘You look really smart, sir.’ The words slipped out of her mouth almost without realizing it, but at least it had been an appropriate word to say out loud. She would never have forgiven herself if she had said the other one that had come to her mind first.
Dalgliesh stood in front of her wearing a dark evening suit. He took a few steps towards her desk and it struck her how at ease he moved and looked in it. Kate was no expert, but judging by its perfect fit, it was clear that the suit had been tailor-made by expert hands.
She had tried to compose herself as fast as she could, and if Adam had noticed her expression of approval he didn’t show it. He just bowed his head and gave one of his half-smiles, without looking at her.
‘Thank you.’ He said and Kate wondered if it might have been embarrassment that hint of hesitation she had heard in his answer.
‘The annual Commissioner’s dinner at the Savoy.’ He added as if in need of justifying himself or explaining his presence: ‘I’ve left the invitation in my office.’ He sighed, looking at her almost as if he was asking for her permission, and then he headed up with his usual rapid step.
Kate followed him with her eyes until he disappeared, and when she was alone again, she wondered briefly with some amusement, if it had just been some sort of daydream.
The grin came back on her lips while she collected the papers on her desk. She grabbed her purse and stood up, ready to finally leave, when for a moment she felt strangely dizzy, and again she wondered to herself, a little amused, if it was a consequence of what she had just witnessed. When the feeling had passed, Kate instead of heading towards the main door, went upstairs.
She didn’t know why exactly, maybe just to make herself sure that she hadn’t dreamed.
Dalgliesh’s office door was ajar, the desk lamp was on and he was standing behind the wide desk, attentively studying the invitation card in his hand.
Kate remained a few moments on the landing, observing him through the half open blinds, wondering what could have darkened his face so much and so quickly. To her, he had always been a bit of a mystery.
He seemed lost in his thoughts, far away from the Met and his office.
It was extremely tidy, she noticed. On his desk everything was exactly where it should have been, not even a single sheet of paper was out of place. But the room seemed to her curiously cosy in the semi-darkness, with its mustard yellow walls, its colorful, mismatched filing cabinets and the wooden furniture.
Not at all intimidating nor unwelcoming, perhaps just a little impersonal, without any object that showed any signs of an off-duty life.
She had walked in and out of it so many times, yet only now she seemed to notice for the first time how well the room mirrored its occupant, a very private man who might have appeared detached and stiff, but only at first glance.
When Kate finally knocked softly on the door to get his attention, Adam looked at her a little perplexed.
‘I’m leaving, sir, goodnight.’
The sound of her voice brought him back to reality, ‘Goodnight, Kate.’
She took a few steps towards the stairs, but suddenly her head started spinning again and she had to stop.
Her vision went blurry, a constant ringing grew in her ears and she found herself grabbing the railing for steadiness. A rush of heat rose to her cheeks and then suddenly a sensation of intense cold. Her hands’ grip loosened and in an instant everything went black.
Adam had put the invitation back in the envelope and was placing it in his inside pocket jacket, when in the complete silent he heard the muffled thud.
He rushed out and saw Kate on the floor. A moment after he was bending over her and calling her name softly. Having no answer, he checked her pulse and found that, although faint, there was a heartbeat.
He observed her chest closely and when he was sure that it was regularly rising and falling, he lifted her as gently as possibly, and placed her on the small sofa facing his desk.
Some minutes later Kate regained consciousness. She blinked, trying to focus, and the first thing she saw
was Adam’s blue eyes staring intently at her, just a few inches from hers.
He had crouched down next to the sofa, taken off his suit jacket and used it to cover her as if it were a blanket. The lines on his frowning brow disappeared and his face relaxed with relief. ‘Kate… How are you feeling?’ He asked her in a gentle way, using a low tone, but betraying all his concern.
She just blinked again a couple of times and said nothing, feeling confused and somehow distracted by his piercing gaze.
‘You fainted.’ Adam explained with some gravity, still looking at her to make sure she was actually fine.
‘Oh...’. She didn’t remember other than going upstairs to wish him goodnight.
‘When did you last eat?’ Adam asked again sympathetically, not taking his eyes off her, yet standing up.
She thought about his question for a moment. She had left her flat early that morning, having just a cup of coffee, and she hadn’t stood a chance to have any breakfast or lunch during the day, just a few cups of tea now and then.
Almost with shame she realised that she had only had some food for dinner the day before, when a constable had brought in some Chinese take-away.
She was sure Dalgliesh wouldn’t have liked her answer: ‘This morning.’ She lied and for an instant she saw a shadow darkening his face.
Adam looked at her and Kate knew what that look in his eyes meant.
He had sensed her lie, just as he could sense the lies told by a suspect or a witness during an interrogation. Then his face softened again: ‘Don’t move’. He left the room and Kate heard the sound of his steps down the stairs.
He had used his usual kind yet resolute tone, the one she knew well, the one that did not allow any reply, and Kate had said nothing, feeling like a child scolded by a parent or a schoolgirl rebuked by a teacher.
Then suddenly she realized that she was lying on the sofa, in his office, and it didn’t take much effort of her imagination to figure out how she got there. She blushed, feeling the warmth coming back in her body.
The sofa she laid on wasn’t that comfortable, an intentional choice to discourage any visitors from staying
too long, she suspected, although she couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone sitting on it. So Kate sat up slowly, hoping not to feel dizzy again, and placed Dalgliesh’s jacket beside her.
The fabric was soft and warm. A light, good quality wool and she found herself lingering her hands over it a little too long than necessary, inebriated by its scent, probably soap or his aftershave.
She could identify a vague hint of citrus and other notes, wood and some spices she wasn’t able to figure out precisely. It wasn’t too sweet nor too pungent, but she was sure it was expensive.
Adam returned a few minutes later carrying a steaming cup of tea.
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t find anything to eat.’ He said, handing it to her, then he took a chair and sat opposite, legs crossed, an elbow effortlessly resting on the desk at his back, waiting patiently for her to drink.
The silent was complete and with his attentive eyes studying her, Kate felt even more embarrassed than she already was.
It had struck her from the start how much he seemed to be able to read into people.
Maybe it was a skill he had learned through experience, maybe it was simply innate or maybe the years he had spent dealing with people who often hid the truth had strengthened an ability that was already within him. Whatever the case, she often felt a slight panic at the thought that he could read inside her too. And he probably didn’t even need to go too deep.
She cleared her throat, eyes fixed on the cup between her hands and blew a couple of times on the surface before starting to sip it. The tea was strong and very sweet, too much for her taste, and she couldn’t help but grimace a little.
‘You need some sugar.’ Adam said gently, but again, to her, it had sounded more like a scolding than a thoughtful advice.
‘Promise me it won’t happen again, Kate.’ He said after she had taken some more sips and this time his words sounded like a request, almost a plea.
She finally raised her gaze and dared to look at him: ‘It won’t, sir.’
He stretched his lips almost forming a smile: ‘Good. Because I need you, Kate…’ Adam paused an instant and then he quickly added: ‘… On your feet. Are you sure you’re alright?’
‘Yes, sir. I’m just a bit weak.’
‘The St. Thomas isn’t far, I can accompany you, if you want.’
‘No, no need, thanks. It’s been a long day, I just want to go home.’
‘Agreed.’
She had now finished her tea and he took both the cup and the saucer from her hands and placed them on his desk, then he asked if she could stand.
‘I think so.’ Kate stood up slowly and she felt she was stable enough. Silently she sighed with relief.
Adam took his jacket from the sofa and placed it on her shoulders, without a word. Then he closed the door behind them and as they went down he said: ‘I’ll drive you home.’
‘No need, thanks. I can call a cab.’
He stopped and looked at her with one of his no-replies looks, but Kate tried anyway: ‘What about your dinner, sir?’.
Dalgliesh looked at his wristwatch: ‘They’ll live if I skip the cocktail.’
His Jaguar wasn’t parked too far from one of the many side entrances of the building. In the car park he opened the door for her and she got in.
He drove carefully as always, and didn’t ask for her address, but Kate noticed that he was headed in the right direction. He clearly knew where she lived and she didn’t know to feel flattered or annoyed by it.
They remained silent throughout the journey, Dalgliesh occasionally glancing her way, Kate pretending to be interested in the twinkling city lights rushing past her window, but aware of his watchful eyes on her from time to time.
Once he had parked under her flat, Kate was surprised to see that Adam got off and opened the passenger door for her. She muttered a thank and he made one of his wry smiles.
The journey in the lift had seemed to last ages to Kate and once on her landing she took her keys out from her purse with some relief. Her head started to spin a bit again and she closed her eyes, trying in every way to fight the feeling. Defeated, she had to place a hand on the jamb for steadiness.
‘You ok?’ He whispered in his velvety voice from behind her, almost into her ear, and an unexpected chill of pleasure ran down her spine.
‘Yes.’ She could only say and he carefully took her keys from her hand and without moving from behind, almost hugging her, turned the keys in the door lock.
‘Why don’t you sit down.’ Adam said once inside the flat, nodding at her sofa. ‘Is there someone… You can call for help?’ He asked when she had sat down. ‘A neighbour, a friend?... Boyfriend, perhaps?’ He added casually.
Kate could only shook her head, helpless: ‘There’s Mrs. Turner, my neighbor, but she’s away visiting her daughter for a couple of days. I’ll be fine, sir. You don’t need to worry about me.’
Adam looked at her intensely for a few moments: ‘You look pale, you need to eat a proper meal. Do you have anything to heat up?’
Kate shook her head once more: ‘There’s something in the fridge, but not much.’
She started to get up, but Adam stopped her: ‘Stay here.’
Again his resolute tone and the serious look in his kind eyes made her sit down again. He went to the kitchen where he opened the fridge, inside there wasn’t much, as Kate had said.
‘You’ve got some eggs... I can cook you an omelette.’ He said, studying it’s content, and Kate couldn’t believe her ears.
His words had sounded so out of character, yet somehow, surprisingly natural. She didn’t know whether she was more flattered or embarrassed, but nevertheless she found herself wondering once again, with a growing curiosity, what this mysterious and private man could be like off duty.
Not having any reply, Adam leaned through the open fridge door to check if she was alright. Kate was still sitting upright on the sofa, looking at him with incredulous eyes.
‘I can, trust me.’ He said looking at her with his brows raised, in a reassuring yet teasing tone, and Kate smiled.
She might have almost laughed if he hadn’t been her superior and if the whole situation hadn’t been so absurd.
‘I trust you sir, but…’ She began, trying not to sound disrespectful, but at the same time trying to hold back a chuckle.
‘No buts, sergeant.’ He had made it sound like an order, but he was just teasing her and Kate had to admit that even if he was always keeping his distance, she had enjoyed his polite way of making fun of her.
Adam took all the ingredients out from the fridge and started to open the cabinets looking for everything else he needed.
Some minutes later a sweet smell of butter started to fill the flat and when Kate heard the sound of whisked eggs splashing and sizzling into the pan, she stood up slowly and reached him in the kitchenette, careful to not make any sound.
She sat down at the table, glad that his back was turned and that he hadn’t heard her, and watched him moving confidently as if he had always cooked in her kitchen.
He had rolled up his sleeves and taken off his bow tie. The suspenders were pressing gently against his back, highlighting the shape of his strong shoulders and under the white shirt, while he moved, she could glimpse his undershirt, and imagine, without too much effort, what was under it.
Ten minutes later a creamy cheese omelette was laid on a plate in front in her.
‘I didn’t know you could cook, sir.’
He half-smiled again, ‘I’m afraid I don’t go much further than this.’
He said, but Kate had the feeling he was simply hiding behind modesty: ‘Thank you, sir.’ She said, trying to hold back another grin, desperately wanting to stick to formality to avoid saying something she might regret.
Adam bent his head once more, pulled out a chair opposite her and sat down.
‘You should have a glass of wine too. I saw you have a few bottles.’ He added, starting to unroll his sleeves: ‘Are you interested in wine?’
For Kate, wine had become a symbol of revenge. No one bought and drank wine where she was from. It was something she had always associated with wealth and when she had been finally able to afford it, she had found that she didn’t mind having a glass of it every now and then.
Savoring its taste was a reminder of everything she had put behind her. She couldn’t tell him all this, it was too personal and she would have felt too uncomfortable, but he was staring at her intently, waiting for an answer.
As always, she had the feeling that he not only knew what had passed through her mind, he certainly had read her personal record, but that he could, somehow, understand.
‘I just like having a glass from time to time, but I simply read the labels and follow my instinct, nothing more.’
Adam half smiled again and reopened the fridge. He studied the bottles for a while and then picked one out: ‘Never stop following your instinct, sergeant.’ He said, again teasing her, but she had the feeling that he wasn’t just referring only to the wine.
‘Grey Pinot. Perfect match.’ He placed the bottle on the table and after opening it, poured her a glass.
Kate raised her brows and widened her eyes, barely hiding her amusement again.
Food or wine were things they had never discussed. They had shared a table in one pub or another occasionally, in the middle of some investigations, but being on duty had always prevent them from going beyond the case discussion. And in all honesty, the thought of talking to him about cuisine or wine was something that had never crossed her mind.
‘You are an expert then, sir?’ She asked quickly, without looking at him, still keeping her gaze on the bottle between them.
‘Not exactly.’ Again he lowered his head a little and again Kate was sure that he was just being modest again.
‘Why don’t you keep me company? I think you too deserve a glass, sir.’ Once again the words had slipped out of her mouth before she had known it. She drank a sip and had to admit the wine was good.
Adam took another glass and poured some wine for him as well. He looked closely at the content of his glass, then he smelled it and finally drank a gulp: ‘Light, fruity, floral.’
He was aware that Kate was staring at him and he said, always keeping his eyes on the glass, in his usual calm and reassuring voice: ‘You’d better eat before it gets cold, otherwise all my efforts will have been in vain.’
She took a mouthful of omelette. It was creamy, with the cheese slightly melted and a sweet aftertaste of butter in the background. Kate thought she had never had anything tastier in her life and took another mouthful. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was.
‘It’s really good.’
‘I hope so, Kate.’ He said softly, after another sip of wine, and her name went out almost as a whisper.
For a while no one spoke, Kate busy enjoying her dinner and Adam busy enjoying the sight of her eating heartily, but keeping quiet was even more embarrassing than talking, and after a few more mouthfuls, Kate asked, trying to sound casual, or as casual as possible under the circumstances:
‘Why don’t you have some as well, sir?’
He looked at his wristwatch, ‘I’m afraid it’s late, I’d better go. They’re waiting for me.’ He stood up slowly and Kate could swear he seemed reluctant to leave.
And then she spotted it:
‘But someone might have something to say, sir, if you showed up like this.’ Kate said, out of the blue, looking at him and pointing to his shirt.
Adam lowered his head, this time to look at his chest. A yellow stain stood out against the white of his shirt. He shook his head as if to blame himself for his clumsiness, because even with the jacket buttoned, the stain was clearly impossible to hide.
Kate stood up and went to the sink, where she soaked a cloth under the tap and when Adam looked up again, she was in front of him. She began to gently rub his shirt, her other hand resting on his chest to keep the fabric from creasing.
Taken by surprise by her move, Adam had remained motionless with his arms halfway open, in a sigh of surrender, his eyebrows raised, a little puzzled, a little amused, his head bent just a few inches from her face.
Feeling terribly guilty, she continued to rub in an attempt to erase the stain, not realizing how close they were standing and where her hands were placed, only aware that his scent had become suddenly stronger.
Part of his shirt became soon completely soaked in water, as did his undershirt and his skin underneath, but he hadn’t seemed to notice any of this, his attention caught by her curls, her neck, her cheeks so close to his own. He would just have to tilt his head a little more and he could have kissed her.
The stain was still there, yellow and bright, despite all Kate’s efforts, and without realising it, she
unbuttoned another button and slipped her hand between the fabric and his chest. Only the light touch of her fingers on his skin made him aware of how close to one another they were standing.
‘Kate… Kate, thank you…’ He began to say, but she didn’t stopped, so he took her hand in his own and gently pulled it away from his chest: ‘I think that’s enough, you can stop now.’ He added softly, trying not to make it sound like an order.
Kate stopped and froze, feeling her cheeks on fire at the same time. He had released her hand and she took
a few steps back, wanting to disappear.
‘I’m sorry, sir.’ She could only murmur, her eyes fixed on her shoes. Did she really dare to unbutton his shirt? It must have been the wine, she thought.
‘My bad, I should have been more careful.’ He said in his kind and calm voice.
Kate didn’t dare look at him and Adam said gently again, almost with some relief, ‘Looks like I have an excuse not to go to dinner now.’
He half-smiled, but she was keeping her gaze fixed on the floor and her head was bent down, one hand on the counter behind her, as if she was in need of some support, the wet cloth still in her other one.
He took his handkerchief from the trousers’ pocket and began to rub at his shirt in the attempt to dry the fabric a little.
‘I’m so sorry… Will you forgive me, sir?’ She asked almost in a whisper, again keeping her head down, but
raising her eyes on him.
Adam stopped and looked at her with a half smile: ‘For sparing me a long evening of pleasantries and nonsense small talks?’ He asked after what had seemed an age to Kate. ‘These dinners are just a waste of time, believe me.’
Kate widened her eyes and raised her brow, she had no idea how these dinners worked and noticing it, he explained:
‘It’s mainly gossip. You’ll be surprised to know how much senior police officers enjoy it. And probably I’ve been one of the most popular topics for the last two years.’ He added with some sudden
bitterness.
She looked at him with a blank expression and Adam went on: ‘You probably know my wife and son have both died. I’m aware it’s not a secret, everyone knows it at the Yard, from the Commissioner to the cleaners.’
He took his glass and drank a sip of wine.
Kate knew it, someone had told her, but not the details and she had never asked for them. It wasn’t her business.
‘For some time–‘ He added keeping his gaze down on the glass in his hand, ‘-I haven’t been entirely myself. I went back to work immediately after because I thought that immersing myself in someone else’s tragedy would make me forget my own. I persisted, despite everyone telling me to take some time off, but despite all my efforts the grief was too much. I couldn’t concentrate, I couldn’t think straight and one day, I broke down and I was forced to take a special leave.’
He was speaking in a controlled voice as if he were telling another man’s story, not his own, but Kate noticed that his jaw had stiffened to maintain that control: ‘- emptied of everything that made sense, I thought my life was over. A couple of times I’ve come close to give up- ‘ He swallowed hard, as if this was the hardest thing to say out loud, ‘- I suffered, I grieved, I still am, but after a while, I don’t even know how-‘ He paused, ‘-I took interest in life again.’
Adam took another sip of wine and went on: ‘Last time I went to the Savoy, I was with my wife. The invitation is always for two...’
Another gulp and he emptied the glass.
‘I didn’t know.’ She could only murmur.
‘The truth is Kate, I don’t think I can
bear it, I thought I could, but I’m not ready. I’m not ready, Kate.’ He repeated.
‘The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll ever want to be.’
He sighed heavily, but didn’t move, he just kept staring straight in her eyes and for a moment Kate wondered if he was just referring only to the dinner. And for another moment she hoped he wasn’t.
They stare at each other in silence and Kate could swear that his eyes were slightly teary. She knew it had cost a lot to him to say those words out loud. ‘I’m very sorry.’ She could only say after a while.
‘I’ve always thought that you ought to know. From me.’
His lips stretched in a half unconvincing smile: ‘I’d better go.’ He buttoned his shirt and grabbed his jacket from the couch, where she had left it.
He had just put his hand on the door handle, when Kate spoke: ‘I apologize, sir.’ She wanted to say more, far more than just this, but somehow this time words didn’t come.
Adam looked at her with a kind expression, his face suddenly softened again: ‘Nothing happened, Kate. The
shirt will be cleaned. Like I said, it was all my fault.’
He put on his jacket: ‘Thanks for the wine, it was excellent.’ He said gently.
‘I probably had too much of it.’ Kate said apologetic and he grimaced as if he meant the same thing for himself.
‘At least let me know how much is the dry cleaning.’
He smiled and this time the smile betrayed genuine amusement: ‘There’s no need. Good night, Kate.’
‘Night, sir.’ Kate could only say as he closed the door behind him.
She couldn’t say how long she stood there without moving after he had left.
What was left of her dinner was still on the kitchen table, the tangible proof of an evening she knew she wouldn’t be able to forget anytime soon.
When she finally sat down again, she noticed that his unfolded bow-tie had fallen on the floor. She picked it up, took it to her nose and inhaled deeply.
His scent had remained on it and the smell went straight to her head.
She was sure the image of him, so charming in the dim light of the empty office, wearing an evening suit,
would not leave her for a long time. She just hoped it wouldn’t affect her work.
Not too much, at least.
She sighed deeply and refilled her glass, emptied it in a single gulp and then refilled it again.