Vixen

29

Outside, Falls asked:

‘Should I call a cab?’

‘I want a drink.’

Who was Falls to argue? But they were still in uniform and fairly bedraggled, so she hailed a black cab and asked him to go to Lonsdale Road. The driver had the ‘Knowledge’ and knew the police den there, dropped them right outside it, said:

‘You guys are getting some bad press but for my money, you’re doing good.’

And waived the fare.

How often does that happen? It was smart public relations but the gesture was meant.

Falls said:

‘If you’re ever in a jam…’

He appreciated the pun. Andrews looked at the nondescript building, asked in a sulky tone:

‘What’s this?’

Falls, invigorated, said:

‘It’s the “sorrows”, as in drown the fuckers. You don’t get to visit it until you’ve proved yourself. So many wash out now, if they last a week it’s surprising but you, you’ve certainly shown you’re here for the long haul.’

Andrews seemed singularly unimpressed but when you’ve recently been bitten, your options move. There were no bouncers on the door — at a cop joint? Come on!

A single cop sat in an alcove, reading Loaded, looked up and muttered:

‘Falls.’

Waved them in.

You’d expect a dive and you wouldn’t be more wrong. The furnishings were sedate, almost feminine, lots of fussy curtains and delicate furniture with a bright paint job. The place was jammed: uniforms, plain clothes, Special Branch, civil servants who were vaguely connected in that they did favours. A long bar running the length of one wall, and two tenders.

As they walked in, conversation stopped and then a quiet applause began. Andrews looked at Falls who said:

‘That’s for you, kid.’

‘What? How can they know?’

Falls led the way to a corner table, acknowledged the praise with a small hand gesture and said:

‘Are you joking? A cop gets hit, they know.’

Immediately a round of drinks came, and raised glasses from various tables.

Andrews asked:

‘What’s in these drinks?’

There were six shot glasses and Falls handed one over, said:

‘Scotch, these guys are no frills.’

For a moment, it seemed like Andrews was going to demur, maybe ask for vodka and slimline tonic, but as she felt the camaraderie, something in her face changed and she knocked back the shot like a good ‘un. A chorus of ‘Way to go, girl’ followed.

She was in.