Bobby McGee

Chapter Forty-two. Reunion.

Chapter Forty-two

The Reunion

It took Peter almost an hour to reach the outskirts of Ulverston, his progress slowed by the families out for a Sunday afternoon drive. He was not too familiar with the street plan of the town, as he had rarely visited his father. Looking for assistance he pulled to a halt outside the Farmers Arms, a pub situated at the top of Market Street, adjacent to the war memorial. A grey haired man on the front step was sweeping up the debris left by the lunchtime crowd.

"Excuse me, sir. Could you help me?"

The sweeping stopped. The man, his curiosity piqued by the strange accent, looked up, stood his broom against the door jamb and moved over to the car.

"What can I do for thee, lad? Does ta need a hospital for t'young lassie there."

"No. I need to get to the police station."

"Nae problem lad. Just go straight down Market Street until tha' comes to Tank Square. You can't miss it. It's right opposite t'brewery and there's a blue leet above t' main entrance."

"Straight down there you mean?" said Peter, pointing down the cobbled street.

"That's reet lad."

Peter circled the market cross and headed towards the police station. It was a bone jarring drive, the suspension of the Ford Prefect losing out to the mediaeval surface. Peter heard a moan. He glanced in the rear view mirror. Gillian was waking. Her cheeks were puffed, eyes red, and her hair in disarray.

"Where are we, Peter?" she sniffed.

"At the police station." Peter pulled over to the kerb. "You wait here. I'll go and report. Shouldn't be long."

Peter bound up the steps leading to a massive blue door that served as the main entrance to the station. It took all his strength to partially open it. He squirmed inside. The light of myriad fluorescent tubes bathed the interior. A reception desk stood to the left of the entrance. As the door slammed shut behind him, the familiar figure at the desk looked up and his weathered face broke into a smile.

"What are you doing here, son? I wasn't expecting you until next week."

"No time to explain, Dad. We've found a body."

The smile changed into a look of disbelief. "You must be joking."

" No I'm not, Dad. We found it in Lake Coniston; all trussed up and stuffed in a bag."

"I'll need the higher-ups to deal with this." McGee picked up his desk phone and dialed. The response was almost immediate. "Sarge, I think you'd better get down here quick. Looks like we have something major on our hands."

Within seconds a casually dressed policeman, with rolled up white shirt sleeves and loosened black tie, emerged from one of the inner offices.

"Son, this is Sergeant Jeffreys. He'll take care of you."

"Could you come this way, sir? I'll take down the particulars in my office."

Peter hesitated. "Dad, could you do me a favour. There's a friend of mine outside in the car. She's really shaken up. Do you think you could see to her?"

McGee nodded.

*****

Did his son ever travel anywhere alone? He always seemed to have a woman in tow. Was this to be another Yelena Mays?

These thoughts were soon dispelled when McGee peered in to the car, and saw the disheveled creature curled up on the back seat. Cautiously he opened the back door of the car. He noticed the girl was shivering despite the heat. Shock, he thought.

"Come on my dear. Let's go inside and get you sorted out."

*****

Gillian looked up, wiped her nose with the back of her hand, and then reassured by the gentle smile of the policeman, struggled out of the cramped back seat. McGee led her up the stairs into the station, his muscular arm draped around her still shaking shoulders.

"Sit yourself down here, Miss. I'll go and brew you up a nice cup of hot sweet tea. It'll do wonders for you."

Gillian sat down in one of the two leather-seated benches in the reception area. She wondered what had happened to Peter. When McGee returned, Gillian was feeling a little better and was reading the recruitment posters pinned to the notice board. They were pushing the opportunities for women in the force.Not for me, thought Gillian, not after today.

McGee sat down beside her. "I gather you're a friend of that reprobate son of mine."

Gillian smiled. "Yes I've known him for quite a long time. He's told me a lot about you, sir."

"All lies I'm sure. What are you doing up here in this neck of the woods?"

Gillian knew that Peter's father was rather prudish, and objected to unmarried couples sleeping together. This was why they had planned to only visit him for a couple of days at the end of their holiday.

"Peter felt it would be nice to spend a bit of time with you, since he will soon be leaving for Germany. He knew I've never been to the Lakes so he offered to bring me along."

"So what do you think of it so far?"

Gillian bit her tongue. Narrow winding roads, loutish farmers, Bronze Age lodgings, and a dead body came to mind. "First impressions were not too good sir."

"We'll correct that. You will be staying with me won't you?"

Before she could reply Peter emerged from the corridor with Sergeant Jeffreys close behind.

"Get on the phone, Bob," said the sergeant. "We'll need Wolfe and his boys for this. Call the S.O.C. gang too. Tell them we have a murder on the eastern side of Lake Coniston. I figure it's in the neighbourhood of Dodgson Wood. Some fellows from the Furness diving club have a lorry parked there. Should be easy to find."

"I could go with them , sir, and show the way," said Peter.

"No need. We can't miss it. You need to look after your young lady. She's had quite a shock."

Peter looked over at Gillian. She gave him a wan smile. Some colour had returned to her cheeks.

"Peter, it looks as if I'm going to be tied up here for quite some time. Here's the house key. Go and get yourselves settled in."

"Will Meg be there?"

"I'm afraid not. She's moved out."