That’s why I could get away easily. I’ve been suspended.’
‘What, you – super cop? I don’t believe it. What happened?’
‘It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it over a glass of Pinot Grigio some time. Anyway, you look well.’
‘And doing well,’ Roxie lied. ‘The salon’s going a bomb. All those old ex-pats wives wanting to look seventeen again. I’m doing Botox, chemical peels, fillers, the lot.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. Well come on then, let’s go and face the music,’ said Margaret.
Roxie wheeled along her suitcase bag, slung her handbag over her shoulder and they made their way back to the car park. ‘How long can you stay?’ asked Margaret on the way.
‘As long as necessary,’ replied Roxie. Christ, forever, she thought. Can’t go back there in a hurry. In fact never. A dead body on the floor of my shop would be hard to explain. ‘Josie, my manageress, is a diamond. She’ll look after things for the duration. I haven’t had a holiday in years.’ She’d let Josie go two months previously, when she could no longer afford to pay wages. More lies, but Roxie was an expert. And being a copper – even a copper on suspension – Margaret probably wouldn’t understand .
‘This won’t be much of a holiday I warn you,’ her sister reminded her.
‘You know me Mags, I could always find some fun and games. And talking of fun and games, how’s your love life?’
Margaret pulled a face. ‘Don’t ask,’ she said.
‘But I will. Over that glass of wine maybe.’
15
The drive back was better than the journey out, as most traffic seemed to be heading in the opposite direction, out of the city for the weekend and the rain had eased off. ‘Nice wheels,’ Roxie said when she climbed into the Porsche. ‘Bet it goes like the clappers.’
‘It does. But I don’t need any tickets to add to my troubles , so don’t go getting any ideas,’ said Margaret.
‘Can I have a go sometime? I wouldn’t mind one of these.’
‘Hmmm, we’ll see about that. What are you driving?’
‘A jeep. Open top. You should come out when this is all over. We’d have some fun.’More lies and Roxie hated doing it – but she knew it was necessary.
‘I haven’t had any fun for a long time,’ Margaret said quietly.
‘Poor Mags,’ said Roxie. ‘I’ll make it better.’
They spent the rest of the journey catching up on the last few years, Roxie telling her sister funny stories about some of the clients she had at the salon.
‘Sis, you think it’s hard catching criminals? Try doing a Brazilian on a 64-year-old woman!’
For her part, Mags traded stories about life on the force. But they both kept more to themselves than they dared to reveal.
They were back at the house just after six, and Frankie, looking worse than ever, opened the front door. She embraced Roxie, and stepped back. ‘My, but you look good,’ she said, taking in her little sister’s highlighted hair, deep tan and inch-long acrylic nails.
‘It’s more than I can say for you,’ said Roxie taking in the deep circles around her eyes. ‘You running yourself ragged as usual I suppose?’
‘Someone had to look after the family.’
‘Well, I’m here now, you can get some rest. Mags said you haven’t stopped.’
‘I’m OK.’
‘Rubbish. When I’ve seen Sharon and the kids, I’m going to take you home and get you to bed.’
Frankie just nodded, as if she was too tired to argue.
‘Where are they?` asked Roxie.
‘Sitting down.’
Roxie dropped her bag and went into the lounge where Sharon and her children were still sitting together on the sofa. ‘Sharon,’ she cried. ‘Petey, Soo-Soo.’ And she went to them and tried to hold them all.
‘Roxie,’ said Sharon. ‘Thank God you’re here.’
Roxie fitted herself on the sofa, her arms around all three, and all four started to cry. ‘Sorry,’ said Roxie. ‘I didn’t want to upset you. But…’
Susan snuggled up into her lap and
‘What, you – super cop? I don’t believe it. What happened?’
‘It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it over a glass of Pinot Grigio some time. Anyway, you look well.’
‘And doing well,’ Roxie lied. ‘The salon’s going a bomb. All those old ex-pats wives wanting to look seventeen again. I’m doing Botox, chemical peels, fillers, the lot.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. Well come on then, let’s go and face the music,’ said Margaret.
Roxie wheeled along her suitcase bag, slung her handbag over her shoulder and they made their way back to the car park. ‘How long can you stay?’ asked Margaret on the way.
‘As long as necessary,’ replied Roxie. Christ, forever, she thought. Can’t go back there in a hurry. In fact never. A dead body on the floor of my shop would be hard to explain. ‘Josie, my manageress, is a diamond. She’ll look after things for the duration. I haven’t had a holiday in years.’ She’d let Josie go two months previously, when she could no longer afford to pay wages. More lies, but Roxie was an expert. And being a copper – even a copper on suspension – Margaret probably wouldn’t understand .
‘This won’t be much of a holiday I warn you,’ her sister reminded her.
‘You know me Mags, I could always find some fun and games. And talking of fun and games, how’s your love life?’
Margaret pulled a face. ‘Don’t ask,’ she said.
‘But I will. Over that glass of wine maybe.’
15
The drive back was better than the journey out, as most traffic seemed to be heading in the opposite direction, out of the city for the weekend and the rain had eased off. ‘Nice wheels,’ Roxie said when she climbed into the Porsche. ‘Bet it goes like the clappers.’
‘It does. But I don’t need any tickets to add to my troubles , so don’t go getting any ideas,’ said Margaret.
‘Can I have a go sometime? I wouldn’t mind one of these.’
‘Hmmm, we’ll see about that. What are you driving?’
‘A jeep. Open top. You should come out when this is all over. We’d have some fun.’More lies and Roxie hated doing it – but she knew it was necessary.
‘I haven’t had any fun for a long time,’ Margaret said quietly.
‘Poor Mags,’ said Roxie. ‘I’ll make it better.’
They spent the rest of the journey catching up on the last few years, Roxie telling her sister funny stories about some of the clients she had at the salon.
‘Sis, you think it’s hard catching criminals? Try doing a Brazilian on a 64-year-old woman!’
For her part, Mags traded stories about life on the force. But they both kept more to themselves than they dared to reveal.
They were back at the house just after six, and Frankie, looking worse than ever, opened the front door. She embraced Roxie, and stepped back. ‘My, but you look good,’ she said, taking in her little sister’s highlighted hair, deep tan and inch-long acrylic nails.
‘It’s more than I can say for you,’ said Roxie taking in the deep circles around her eyes. ‘You running yourself ragged as usual I suppose?’
‘Someone had to look after the family.’
‘Well, I’m here now, you can get some rest. Mags said you haven’t stopped.’
‘I’m OK.’
‘Rubbish. When I’ve seen Sharon and the kids, I’m going to take you home and get you to bed.’
Frankie just nodded, as if she was too tired to argue.
‘Where are they?` asked Roxie.
‘Sitting down.’
Roxie dropped her bag and went into the lounge where Sharon and her children were still sitting together on the sofa. ‘Sharon,’ she cried. ‘Petey, Soo-Soo.’ And she went to them and tried to hold them all.
‘Roxie,’ said Sharon. ‘Thank God you’re here.’
Roxie fitted herself on the sofa, her arms around all three, and all four started to cry. ‘Sorry,’ said Roxie. ‘I didn’t want to upset you. But…’
Susan snuggled up into her lap and
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