The Doll's House

10

Sometimes it was tough being a parent. Scratch that, it was always tough being a parent. Detective Superintendent Ceri Harwood mounted the stairs to the third floor of her fashionable townhouse in a dark mood. She had been nagging her kids to go to bed for nearly an hour now, but still they defied her, finding endless excuses to avoid doing what they were asked. It had been a long day – she didn’t need to be marching up and down the stairs all night, when she could be snuggled up on the sofa with a glass of wine.

‘If you’re not in bed and quiet within two minutes, the PS4 goes into the cupboard for a week.’

It felt good to threaten a week – she had never threatened a whole week before. It had the desired effect. The fourth floor suddenly went very quiet as feet scurried, lights were switched off and peace descended. Harwood waited a further few minutes, then crept up to the top floor and poked her head round the door.

Both girls were fast asleep and, despite her irritation and tiredness, this made her smile. They had had busy days with school, swimming, music lessons, but even so Harwood marvelled at her kids’ ability to drop off to sleep within seconds. It was not a skill she possessed – stress and the fag end of her daily caffeine intake often keeping her awake and restless into the small hours.

It had been a hard year. A year spent swallowing Helen Grace’s heroism and popularity day after day. Grace had brought in two serial killers now and had achieved legendary status within the Force as a result. Outside, in the real world, it was little better: the subject of Helen Grace often came up at dinner parties Harwood attended, people peppering her with questions about the Detective Inspector’s character and talents. It was all Helen, Helen, Helen.

In the professional sphere, Harwood had behaved impeccably. She had patted Helen on the back, congratulated her on her official commendation and made sure she had all the resources she needed. Her success ultimately reflected well on Harwood – but none of this made her feel any better. She remembered Helen’s withering character assassination of her, as they came to blows during the Ella Matthews investigation. Infuriated at what she perceived as Harwood’s attempts to run her out of the Force, Helen had dismissed her as a glorified politician, unfit to wear the police badge. Helen had not mentioned the row since, but Harwood recalled it word for word.

Still, there were some things Ceri had that Helen didn’t. The superior rank. A loving husband. Two beautiful daughters. Harwood stared at the sleeping girls now and her despondency ebbed away. She had always been a fighter and despite having been in Helen Grace’s shadow for so long, where there was life there was hope.

As she descended the stairs once more, Harwood knew that there would be payback. Some day soon, she would settle the score. She had lost the battle after all. She had not lost the war.