Chapter Twenty:
The blurred outline of a shadow slowly creeps towards the frosted glass of the front door. A few clicks later and it swings open, revealing a smiling Dermott with his arms outstretched.
“Derm,” Ferguson goes in for a hug.
“Alright, ol’ boy, what’s the craic?”
Pulling away, Ferguson steps inside the house, waving to Grainne in the kitchen baking her station famous goods and shuffles through to the living room.
“You’re not really watching Loose Women, are you?” Ferguson nods towards the TV in the corner, “retirement can’t be that bad.”
“Piss off,” Dermott frowns, switching it off with the remote, “I was upstairs in the office ye cheeky bastard.”
The old friends laugh whilst they take their seats.
“So, you’ve seen the news?”
“Aye, awful isn’t it? I was going to contact Nuala, but thought against it for a few days. Until the dust settles, y’know?”
“Well, Derm… That’s actually why I’m here.”
“Oh?”
“Aye, Nuala’s been asking for you.”
“For me?”
“Before we even had a chance to get a FLO to her house, she was begging for you. Shouting about how you know the case and you know them personally. She said she wants you back, despite us saying you’ve retired.”
“I’ll do it.”
Ferguson rests back on the chair. He was anticipating this, but he still needs to cover all angles.
“Derm… You’ve been retired for years.”
“And I’m bored out of my fucking tree. Please, let me do this. Speak to the super and get me on it. They’ll not want to build relations with a new FLO. I can just slot back into place. Like all this time never happened… And at least you know you can trust me.”
This does all make sense, Ferguson thinks.
“But what about Grainne, Derm? You retired for her. To save your marriage.”
“It was a reason, aye… But she knows how much my work meant to me. What it still means to me now. How much I became a part of the families that I touched… How many people I still communicate with, despite being retired. I want to do this, Ferguson. Please?”
Ferguson opens his mouth to speak, but the living room door bursts open.
“I hope you’ve not come with a full belly, Cian. I’ve made some scones, you’ll have a few won’t you?”
Bending over the coffee table, Grainne slides a tray of assorted goodies in front of him. From scones to caramel squares. He even spies a few Party Rings amongst the madness.
“Thanks Grainne, you’re too kind.”
“Not at all, sure it’s been a while since you’ve last been over. Out making the world a better place. Hope you still have time to look after that wife of yours. How is Jane?”
“Aye, grand. Still working away.”
“And still no sign of wains?”
Ferguson scoffs as he accidentally inhales half a cupcake with the shock. She slaps him on the back, and he coughs it back up, landing sodden and uncurling on the carpet.
“Sorry, so sorry,” he lifts it and wraps it in the paper, “sure we’re far too old for that now.”
“There’s means and ways,” she nods towards Dermott, who avoids her eye, “and here, what about them finally finding Aaron Parker?”
“Aye, I’m on the case.”
“Oh, I wish you could tell me what’s going on, but I know better than to ask. How’s the family?”
“They’re in shock, as you’d expect.”
“Aye, of course, of course. And is it true that he was found in the garden? Or can you tell me that?”
“Behind the garage, aye. Construction workers dug him up.”
“Awful, sure Jesus… That’s just sick.”
Trotting out, still shaking her head and mumbling, Grainne leaves the men with their tea and treats. Ferguson glances over at Dermott with raised brows.
“What?”
“Wains? At my age?”
“Awk, don’t start. Sure, she’s been at me about adopting and all sorts.”
Both Grainne and Dermott are in their early 60s, there’s hardly a chance they could conceive naturally at this stage.
“Did you two not want wains?”
It suddenly becomes apparent that in all the years that Ferguson has known Dermott that this subject has never been breached. As is the way of officers, not a lot of your personal life slips through the cracks. Not at the station anyway. Dermott shuffles around defensively, taking his contempt out on a Jammie Dodger, the flakes hitting the carpet.
“It’s not that we didn’t… I mean, we talked about it. But you know… Everything we see in this line of work… I couldn’t have imagined if something similar could’ve happened to one of ours… And how I’d feel. I’d be crushed… Then, we started arguing because I kept saying I wasn’t ready. That went on for months, almost a year, before I finally caved. I thought, fuck it, if it happens… It happens. And it never did.”
“Oh, Derm… I’m sorry.”
“You’re grand, turns out I can’t anyway.”
“You mean…”
“Aye, got checked. Very slim chance, apparently.”
“And is that why she’s started bringing up adoption?”
“No… Er… To be honest, I never told her until I retired.”
“Dermott!”
“I know, I know… But I just couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to them. And if they ever came to harm because of me, y’know… Me being in the police? I’d never forgive myself. And I was scared that if she knew then she would leave me…”
Ferguson shakes his head. Dermott had been a close friend for the better part of 30 years, both inside and outside of work. They’d worked many cases and he constantly saw him as nothing but the big-hearted creature he always has been. Making him the perfect FLO when he started to get older and his bones didn’t work like they used to, as he would always complain about. His compassion was incomparable for families going through a hard time… It’s no wonder he still keeps in touch now. He was more than a link between the family and the police… He was a friend. But this new revelation… It’s tainted his image. How could
