got to introduce him to someone as Chris and she almost felt a warm flutter running through her body as she said his name. They were both out together, socialising, albeit only in a platonic way while enjoying a coffee. It had become a regular occurrence where they discussed life, the news and the cases that they were working on.
The server pointed to her name badge. ‘I’m Lucy.’ She turned to the counter. ‘The Americano’s for Gina, make it snappy, Bill.’
Bill stared in Gina’s direction for a second longer than she was comfortable with. Gina smiled and he looked away. When she glanced back, he was making her drink. Lucy hurried to the counter, her flat shoes slapping on the stone floor.
‘There you go.’ Bill winked and handed the coffee to her.
‘Thanks.’ Lucy took the drink from her dad. He smiled, then continued reducing the prices on the leftover sandwiches that hadn’t been sold at lunchtime. ‘One Americano. I’ve got a tab open for you both. Just flag me down when you want to pay.’ She tore the duplicate copy of the order and left it on the table along with a couple of beautifully wrapped chocolates. ‘New line, thought you might like to try them.’
‘Thank you. They are most welcome.’ Briggs reached over and his hair flopped forward, covering his forehead.
Gina noticed that he was wearing the casual shirt that she’d bought him when they were in a serious – but secret – relationship. ‘What’ve you been up to then?’
‘Today? Nothing. I’ve binge-watched season one of Stranger Things on Netflix and walked the dog, that’s all. Oh, I made a chilli, there’s a box of it for you in the car. I know you don’t cook. How was work today?’
Gina sat back in the swirly pink armchair and enjoyed the warmth of the vintage bulbs with the quirky filaments glowing above. The furniture was a mixture of comfy and colourful, made of reclaimed metal and wood. ‘As you know, we’ve charged someone with the assault on Hanger Road. So, all in all, a good day, not too taxing.’ She unwrapped a chocolate and popped it in her mouth.
‘I heard. You know me when I’m off, I can’t keep my head out of my emails. I can’t believe so many people stood around doing nothing during that attack. Normally some good Samaritan steps forward or calls the police before things get too out of hand.’
Gina nodded. ‘It seems people just hang around recording these things on their phones. We had seven recordings and, as you know, it took twelve minutes before someone stepped in and helped the man. We had lots of videoed evidence but the poor man had his jaw broken after ten minutes. In my book, that could have been prevented.’
‘I suppose sometimes people are scared to step in, just in case they get hurt. That doesn’t excuse them not calling the police.’ Briggs smiled at the server. ‘Could I get a top up, please?’
Lucy nodded from across the room, where she was admiring the scarf that June was knitting.
Gina tapped her finger on the table. ‘I know people get scared around trouble and I’d normally agree with you, but I heard the running commentaries on the recordings that were taken. There was a lot of, look at them go and phwoar, what a punch as they were watching it through a screen. It was almost like they were detached from what was happening in front of them. Bizarre. I couldn’t help feeling a bit sick after watching them while mulling over what we’re becoming.’
‘Sounds like it’s a good job that case is over.’
‘This time.’ Gina stared through the cobwebbed window at the old church that had been situated on the end of Cleevesford High Street for two hundred years. The giant cross was lit up on the front of the building. Several male youths and a couple of girls were hanging around in front of the Perspex bus stop.
Lucy sashayed towards Briggs and placed the large milky coffee, along with the order slip on the table. ‘Extra caffeine shot, just the way you like it.’
‘Thank you.’ He watched as a couple of cars passed by. ‘It certainly is a funny old world and we meet them all.’
‘You can say that again.’
Briggs took another sip of his coffee and Gina flinched as someone burst through the door. A small gale blew a flurry of dried leaves, scattering them across the café.