Eve of the Isle (46 page)

Charlie turned away from the window and made his way towards the bedroom he had occupied since infancy. As he walked in he smelt the nostalgia of his youth, this place where he'd forged his dreams and aspirations. His books and magazines were lined on the shelves, each one containing the adventures and thrills that, as a boy, he believed really could happen. Beside these was a photo of him and Robbie as police recruits. He hadn't been able to put away the picture, even though Robbie had disappeared to the other side of the world. He had been a friend, a sharer in his dreams for a while, but for Robbie the dream had turned sour. Detective Inspector Fleet had told him that Robbie had been fortunate to escape an investigation. And Charlie had kept all he knew to himself. For wasn't the old saying, ‘But for the grace of God and there go I'?

He might well have gone the same way if he hadn't met Eve. Or would he? Charlie wondered as he stared again into Robbie's smiling face. Was his own character
solid enough to have withstood the temptations that Robbie had introduced him to? He hoped so. He still had ideals, something that Robbie had grown to scorn. For if a man had no ideals in life, what then?

A pair of his old football boots stood on the shelf below, pristine clean now, though the leather was cracked and the laces cut down. A team photograph stood beside it, this time of sepia faces of eleven-year-old boys smiling in their striped jerseys, arms folded over proud chests and the captain, himself, carrying the cup. He wasn't much older than Samuel and Albert then. Next season, they too would stand in front of the camera. He had great hopes for his Millwall Under Elevens . . .

Suddenly Charlie's eye caught the flash of polished buttons and he turned to stare at the navy blue driver's uniform that he had collected from the Yard last night.

He'd still not absorbed the fact that his six months' driving training at Central CID was now over. It was even more of a mystery to Charlie that the whole thing had started from the time Moody had suspended him and drawn Fleet's interest. Charlie felt his cheeks flush with pride as he recalled their interview at the Yard.

‘How would you like to join us?' Fleet had asked him as they sat in the detective's small office. ‘We need good men like you to serve with the Squad.'

‘But sir, I'm suspended!'

‘We've taken care of all that,' replied Fleet, waving aside the issue. ‘Sergeant Moody has been informed of
your transfer to headquarters. That is, of course, if you're up for the job, Charlie.'

Charlie had stared in bewilderment as Fleet had continued.

‘You have the makings of a damn good Flying Squad detective. You followed your instincts in the Kumar case, determinedly pursued your quarry and collected information. And most importantly, Charlie, you drive and drive amazingly well. Speed is of the essence in the prevention of armed robbery and related professional crime.'

Charlie had been so shocked by this, that Fleet had taken his silence for reluctance. A grin had come on the detective's face as he added in a conspiratorial tone, ‘And I can let you into a little secret. This year the Squad is to be allowed forty handpicked officers in total, of which you will be one. We shall be known as C1 Branch. This is a remarkable achievement in a short time since it was only a decade ago that we started off with Detective Chief Inspector Wensley's twelve inexperienced recruits.'

It was then, Charlie reflected as his heart leapt yet again at the memory of the conversation, that all his dreams of adventure and honour had been fulfilled. Everything he had ever imagined and desired. All brought about by a twist of fate: the Great Flood and his rescue of a woman he was to fall deeply in love with and their efforts to seek the truth of the past.

As he looked at the uniform, he knew that he was
the luckiest man in the world. Yet, without Eve and the boys in his life, what would this mean to him?

Just then, a hand touched his shoulder. He turned, slightly startled as he came swiftly out of his thoughts.

‘Charlie, your parents are just leaving.'

He smiled, his heart doing yet another flip at the beauty of this woman. Her deep brown hair swept up behind her head in a style that added elegance rather than age to her years. The soft grey business suit that had replaced the shawl and traditional dress of the street flower-seller. Her startling amber eyes, as they smiled up at him.

‘I only wish I had a motor to drive them over to Blackheath in,' he complained. ‘If I hadn't wrecked the van . . .'

‘You'll get another one soon.' She took his face in her hands. ‘Charlie, I'm so proud of you. Detective Constable Merritt of the Flying Squad.'

He laughed in embarrassment. ‘Not a detective yet. It's only an honorary title. I've a long way to go before I'm plain clothes.'

‘Honorary or not, you're our hero.'

‘Eve, perhaps this isn't the right time to ask—'

‘Charlie, let's go down and say goodbye.' She looked up into his eyes and just at that very moment when he felt that there would never ever be the right time to tell her how much he loved her and just how much he wanted to take care of her and the boys, she drew his head down and placed her mouth to his. He held
her so tightly against him that he felt he might break every bone in her body. And then, as the passion coursed through him and his heart melted, she breathed soft words in his ear.

‘And then I'm closing the shop for an hour. After all,' she murmured, raising her mouth to his again, ‘I'm a shopkeeper now and I've got to take me perks where I can find them.'

At this they began to laugh, laugh so desperately and deliciously that Charlie knew beyond a shadow of doubt that he would always have this woman beside him as they stepped into their long-dreamed of future.