The Detective's Daughter

46

I saved you.

He had planned saying this to her all the way home. The curtains were drawn, lights on and the fire lit. He was her hero and she expected nothing less.

You’re mine, she would say and he would feel the truth of it.

He tucked her in, promising to come upstairs after a quick drink.

‘You have a wonderful reputation.’ She stroked his hair. ‘You must do everything you can to preserve it. You have saved us both!’

She drifted into sleep. It was his reputation he had saved, he thought, contemplating the bruise on his face in the hall mirror. It would show and he would have to explain it. She was the only person he could tell. Once he had discussed it with her, he felt better and everything shrank to normal.

His mother used to say that most things looked better after a night’s sleep and something about a trouble shared.

The man should have minded his own business, she agreed. The man had been itching to start a fight, he told her.

He poured himself a finger of whisky. His hand shook and he caught the neck of the bottle against the glass, splashing liquid on the table. She was good to him. Not a day went by when he did not tell himself this.

It was too dark to see the rooks. He raised the glass to his reflection in the kitchen window.

‘You saved me,’ he whispered.