Little Boy Blue

15

Detective Superintendent Jonathan Gardam stood by his office window, looking out at the world. It was not the finest view Southampton had to offer, but it afforded him a discreet vantage point on the station’s car park below.

Helen Grace had just arrived and was now dismounting her bike. She was a creature of habit, always choosing the same spot, always removing her helmet and leathers in the same precise order. Whether this was driven by logic or superstition, Gardam couldn’t tell. He knew that her passion for motorbikes was a legacy of her childhood – in one unguarded moment she had confessed to stealing mopeds as a teenager – but beyond that he knew little. The inner workings of her mind were as much a mystery to him as they always had been.

So he watched her from afar. He had a pretty good idea of her routine now – when she went to the gym, when she went running – and he timed his arrival at the station to coincide with hers. He would be stationed at his window by the time she walked away from her bike, running her fingers through her long hair to breathe new life into it after its temporary constraint. She was always so focused on the business in hand that she never looked up, never clocked his face at the window. He often wondered how she would react if she did. Would she be alarmed to see him there or would she offer him a smile and carry on? He had pictured the situation many times and in his head it was always the latter.

She was later than usual today, following an early-morning trip to the mortuary. Gardam had had to delay his first meeting by half an hour, so he could be in place to receive her. It had put his PA in a mood, but it had been worth it – Helen looked particularly beguiling this morning. She was unfailingly attractive – he had always been captivated by her Amazonian figure, pale skin and fuck-you attitude – but as he’d got to know her better, he had seen a deeper beauty. There was a vulnerability there that was hidden from all except those closest to her. This fragile quality was very much in evidence today. Pale, distracted, deep in thought, his best DI looked utterly haunted.

Gardam pressed his fingers to the glass. As so often these days, he wanted to reach out and comfort her. But she remained beyond his reach. He hoped in time to change that, but for now all he could do was watch.