Beth and Unthank exchanged a surprised glance when O’Dowd suggested they head off to their respective homes at just nine o’clock. Beth was prepared to work long into the night, but she wasn’t going to disobey her DI in her first week in FMIT.

She’d called her mother to warn her that she wouldn’t be round for her tea. Her mother always did a Sunday roast, and her chicken dinners had been the thing Beth had missed the most since leaving home. Whenever her shift pattern allowed, she made sure she was sitting in her usual seat at the kitchen table by five to five at the latest.

‘Are you sure, ma’am?’ Beth noted that even as she was speaking, Unthank was up on his feet shrugging his jacket on. As always, he just wanted to be with his girlfriend.

‘You might as well get an early night tonight. Before you go though, Paul, I want you to get onto the RAF and the MOD tomorrow. I want the names of everyone who stayed there. Don’t take no for an answer, regardless of what they say.’

‘Ma’am.’

Beth only just stopped herself from raising a hand. ‘What do you want me to do, boss?’

‘You were keen to get the post-mortem results. I want you to be at Cumberland Infirmary for half seven to attend. Once that’s done, come back here with DS Thompson and start getting me the names of the kids who were evacuated to Arthuret Hall.’

‘Of course.’ Beth tilted her head to one side. ‘Ma’am?’

‘What is it?’

‘DS Thompson, ma’am.’ Beth was careful to show the appropriate respect and choose her words with care. ‘Where was he this afternoon? I thought it would have been all hands to the pumps.’

O’Dowd gave Beth an enigmatic look and then pushed the office door closed so they could speak privately. Beth was afraid she’d overstepped the mark and was about to get one of O’Dowd’s infamous swearings.

‘He went to see his wife.’ A hand lifted to forestall comments. ‘He was never supposed to be on shift today, so he took his daughters to see their mother. She has what they call early-onset Alzheimer’s and is living in a care home. The last time he took the girls to see her, she didn’t recognise them. So, as well as losing his wife, he’s nursing a pair of teenagers through their grief at losing their mother. She’s there in body, but her spirit has been stolen. He’s agreed with the girls that this is the last time he’ll take them to see her, unless they want to return of course. All three of them are having their hearts broken and he’s got to be strong and look after his girls.’ O’Dowd’s sigh was filled with pity and frustration. ‘Only Paul and I know about it at the station, and I’m only telling you because you’re part of the team. Keep it to yourself, ignore his jibes and don’t give him reason to vent at you, because if you do, he’s likely to go too far because of the pressure he’s under. And before you ask, yes, I have suggested he takes some time off or that he applies for a less stressful position. He thanked me for my concern and told me not to worry about him. Bloody men, eh?’

O’Dowd left the room.

---

Rather than going home, Beth gave her limbs a stretch then sat back into her usual seat. She lifted first one leg then the other and put her crossed feet on the desk.

With her chair tilted back she stared upwards. After a moment or two, her thoughts extended away from the watermarks on the ceiling and onto Thompson. When O’Dowd had spoken about him, she’d got the feeling the DI was unburdening herself as well as covering for Thompson.

Beth could understand that, the human psyche has its limits. Every person in the world had a different snapping point; some would fly into a rage at the slightest thing while others would bottle emotions until hate had festered to the point their mind was overloaded. When that point was reached, an explosion of volcanic proportions may ensue. Rhetoric every bit as corrosive as lava would erupt from the person as they vented their anger and frustration.

Some people didn’t have the luxury of venting, either in daily rages or through the weight of multiple months and years of accumulation. These people were the truly strong ones. They kept things to themselves long after they should have raged, internalised their problems long after they should have been shared.

Nobody knew these peoples’ secrets, for they did not share them. Instead they hid them behind a smile as false as the Mona Lisa’s, as they absorbed the stresses of others. They accepted the burdens weighing down on the shoulders of friends and family members, their strength admired, remarked upon, but also taken for granted, until one day, it’s no longer there. The day the strength goes is the day the person breaks under the weight of all the pressures.

Now, thinking about Thompson and his ways, she could imagine the turmoil of his mind, understand his world and appreciate his sacrifice. He wasn’t the kind of man she thought would be comfortable talking about his feelings. She guessed that he was more likely to bottle things up than overshare. For him, release would come in the form of eight pints and a curry with mates, or an hour and a half spent cheering for eleven millionaires while simultaneously insulting eleven others. Perhaps she was wrong and he painted or wrote poetry in his spare time, but there would be precious little of that anyway. He was filling the role of mother and father for his daughters as well as holding down a stressful job. Coupled with the grief he was bound to be feeling at losing his wife, to what was, at best, limbo, the pressure must be tearing at the fabric of his soul.

That he was still doing his job told Beth that behind his bluster and general obnoxiousness, Thompson was a good man, that he was someone who cared about putting criminals behind bars. You didn’t apply to join FMIT if you weren’t driven by something more than a pay cheque. Whether it was justice, the righting of wrongs or empathy for the victims that drove him, it didn’t matter. So long as he was in his current post, he was part of a team that made a difference.

O’Dowd had said that she’d offered him a transfer. Yet, despite everything that was happening at home, he’d turned her down and stayed in FMIT. To Beth, the man’s professional dedication said as much about him as the way he was looking after his wife and daughters.

Beth took her feet back down from the table and walked round to Thompson’s side. On the left-hand side was a picture of a woman and two girls. All three were smiling, sticking out their tongues as they dafted about for the picture. It was a typical family portrait, clearly taken on a day filled with laughter. It spoke of happier times.

Beth wondered whether its presence would end up comforting or mocking Thompson, as she made sure she put it back in the exact spot where she’d found it.