The Doll's House

79

Lloyd was halfway down the stone steps, when he heard her calling after him.

‘Lloyd?’

He had left so abruptly – rudely – that he wasn’t surprised. Instinct had taken over – he just wanted to be away. Still, he paused now. She was his boss after all. She stood in the doorway beckoning to him, as if keen not to be seen by the neighbours. Suppressing his irritation, he slowly climbed the steps, until he was standing in front of her. Why did he feel like he’d been summoned to the headmaster’s office? He’d done nothing wrong.

‘A word before you go.’

To Lloyd’s eyes, Harwood suddenly seemed much more cold-eyed and in control than she had been even five minutes ago. Something of the steely professional was returning, in spite of her obvious intoxication.

‘We’ll forget today ever happened. It’s business as usual from now on.’

She chose her words carefully and delivered them with emphasis and conviction. Lloyd could feel himself getting sucked in once more.

‘I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,’ she continued evenly. ‘And it would be a shame for our close working relationship to be compromised in any way, wouldn’t you agree?’

Lloyd nodded, though he was feeling the very opposite. Perhaps Harwood sensed this for now she leaned closer, her lips almost brushing his ear.

‘Don’t turn on me, Lloyd.’

Then she retreated, shutting the front door firmly behind her.

Driving home, Lloyd cursed himself for his stupidity. Why had he ever got involved with Harwood? Was he really so stupid as to have thought that he could come out of this thing unscathed? It had seemed so simple at first, but now he could see he’d been a fool. Had he come to believe his own hype – the Teflon kid who sailed through life climbing ever upwards, never a mark against his name? There was a joke that followed him everywhere – a joke that infuriated him by its knowing racism – that he was ‘whiter than white’. The goody two shoes, flawless in his prowess and reputation. Lloyd knew it made him unpopular, but oddly it was a badge he clung to now, reminding himself that it meant he was better and more committed than those other jokers. Had he thrown that all away now?

Parking up, Lloyd walked to his front door. The lights were on in the living room, which meant his father was still up. Lloyd felt a flash of irritation – why did he insist on staying up so late? – then a wave of shame. Why should he criticize his dad when it was himself he was furious with?

‘How was your day?’

Caleb turned to his son, switching the TV off immediately. It was as if he’d been waiting for Lloyd – waiting for some company – all day and was now seizing on it eagerly. His siblings never visited, work friends no longer called round, which meant that like many old people his father was alone for most of the day. Lloyd had tried to encourage him to enrol in clubs, he’d even tried to get paid help to visit at one stage, but his father had pooh-poohed the idea. He didn’t have anything to say to new people, he said. He just wanted to spend time with family. Which in practice meant Lloyd.

‘Usual,’ Lloyd replied casually.

‘You sure? You look… a bit beaten up, son.’

Lloyd shrugged.

‘A few issues at work. No big deal.’

‘Problems with a case?’

‘No, just… staff issues,’ Lloyd answered.

‘Want to talk about it?’

‘Thanks, Dad, but to be honest, I just want to go to bed – I’m bushed.’

Caleb said nothing and Lloyd stayed where he was, as if awaiting his father’s permission to leave.

‘You can confide in me you know, son. I know I haven’t always been easy on you, but… you can talk to me. I’d like to talk.’

Did Lloyd imagine it or was there a slight quiver in his dad’s voice? Did he really feel that lonely? That shut out by his own son? He stole a look at his father, who dropped his eyes to the floor quickly.

Lloyd stayed for a few minutes more, chatting about this and that, then took himself off to bed. The truth was, he really didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to dwell on his reckless foolishness in getting into bed with Harwood. Which of course only made him hate himself more.

Today he felt like a failure, both as a police officer and as a son.