The Chosen Ones. G Sanders D

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       16

      In Deakin’s, still musing on the men in her life, Ed Ogborne took another sip of water.

      ‘I’ve got us a bottle of Picpoul and some olives.’

      Lost in her thoughts, Ed had not seen her friend arrive.

      ‘Verity!’

      ‘Sorry I’m late, my new reporter had a bit of a run-in with a drunken husband on the Hersden estate.’

      Ed didn’t want to go there. Hersden was where the abductor’s sister lived. Looking up at Verity, she smiled a welcome.

      ‘Thanks. A cold glass of white is just what I need.’

      ‘You seemed very engrossed.’

      ‘Haunted is probably a more appropriate word.’

      Verity quickly poured two glasses of wine and moved one towards Ed.

      ‘The abductions?’

      ‘Yeah …’ Ed sighed. ‘We’ve done our job and the CPS say it’ll come to trial next year. I’ve almost finished tying up final loose ends.’

      ‘If you’ve put it to bed, why the brooding?’

      ‘I can’t get the images out of my head – thoughts of what those girls went through.’

      Verity reached out to cover Ed’s hand with her own and squeezed it reassuringly.

      ‘You’ve a tough job, but I’d have thought you saw worse during your years with the Met.’

      Ed nodded.

      ‘Somehow, they weren’t the same. At every turn this case has reminded me of lost children. I thought the pain would ease with time but I’m still waiting.’

      ‘You need a break.’ Verity sipped her wine. ‘If you’ve wound up the case, you must be due at least a long weekend. Let’s go away for two or three nights. I know the perfect place, it’s on the South Coast, about an hour’s drive from here. Rye, have you been there?’

      Ed withdrew her hand and picked up her wine glass. ‘I know of it, of course, one of the Cinque Ports, but I’ve never been.’

      ‘You’ll love it. We’ll have a leisurely walk or two – Camber Sands is good – and there’s good food to be had in Rye.’

      ‘Thanks for the offer.’ Ed took an olive. ‘A weekend away sounds good.’

      ‘So you’ll come.’

      ‘I’m sorry, Verity, I’ve got a lot on at the moment. May I take a raincheck?’’

      ‘Of course.’ Her habitual half-smile had disappeared.

      Both women busied themselves with their white wine and olives. Verity was the first to speak.

      ‘How’s the team? I’ve heard your DS Potts has been seen drinking alone in back-street pubs.’

      Ed stiffened. ‘My team’s my business. Anyway –’ she indicated Verity’s near-empty glass ‘– Mike’s not the only one who likes a drink after work.’

      ‘Touché!’

      Before Verity could say more, Ed continued. ‘I’ve never seen Mike the worse for wear and it doesn’t affect his work.’

      Verity held up her hands. ‘Sorry, it was the journalist—’

      ‘It’s a non-story.’ Ed held Verity’s eyes. ‘Your work and mine are our own concerns unless something happens that is of public interest.’

      ‘I’m sorry.’ Verity looked at Ed apologetically. ‘As I say, it was the journalist speaking.’

      Ed realized she’d overreacted. They’d long since established their working boundaries. She softened her voice.

      ‘Journalist and friend.’ Ed paused, then raised her glass and inclined it towards her friend.

      Verity reciprocated and both women drank enough to warrant a top-up.

      ‘Would you like to stay here or shall we go for supper at Gino’s?’

      ‘Gino’s,’ Ed replied without hesitation. ‘Pasta with some of their Sangiovese is just what I need.’

      ‘I’ll ask them to hold a table and open a bottle.’

      As Verity called the restaurant, Ed’s work mobile buzzed.

      ‘DI Ogborne.’ She listened for a few moments. ‘Right, get Jenny. Tell her she’s coming with me. I’ll be at the Station in ten minutes.’ As she spoke Ed looked across the table, waving a finger and shaking her head. ‘Sorry, I’ve got to go.’

      Verity muttered, ‘Just a moment,’ into her mobile and her look of surprise became a questioning frown. ‘What? Why?’

      ‘It’s work. A young woman’s been found dead in Dover. She appears to have been alone in her flat.’

      Before Verity could reply, Ed was on her feet and walking between tables to the exit. She had no doubt the editor would use her contacts to get a reporter to the scene well before other journalists got wind of the incident.