ANGEL BLUE [1]

LEAD 18: forget me not

      Banks and I share a look, our mouths open but we can’t form coherent sentences. Did that really just come out of Shoshana Banks’ mouth? Did I hear that properly? I think Banks and I need to keep our mock-fights to a minimal and censor our language around the younger Banks sisters. Shoshana’s turning into a mini cop herself, her powers of deduction is exemplary. It’s frighting that Shoshana knew that me and Banks (mainly Banks, it’s all her) were on Facebook looking at Amanda Jane Who Does Not Know Who The Stones Are. 

      Sam raises an eyebrow in our direction.

      “A’ight that’s enough from you two, go inside or you’ll catch a cold,” Beth shoos her children back into the warmth of the house.

      Her hair is tied into a loose bun and she sighs, there’s no sadness in her tone―Beth is too strong for her own good to allow her children to see her cry, but she knew what she was getting into when she married Derek. I respect her.

      Beth smiles warmly at Sam but I see it dim around the edges, “It would be a pleasure for you to stay, I believe that grieving should be done with trusted friends and I thank you for trying to help my husband, he never liked FBI, but you’re different―if my daughter and her best friend can put up with you, then you must be unlike any other FBI they’ve come across.”

      “I’m just sorry that nothing else could be done,” Sam rubs his sling, “I would be happy to stay but I don’t want to cause any inconveniences, you’re grieving.”

      “Samuel, by now you should realise that the inconveniences are over there,” Beth points at me and Banks. “I insist, please come inside, I’ve grieved enough in my lifetime. Derek and I knew this would happen, but that doesn’t stop the hurt, it just lessens the blow.”

Donovan:
where r u its getting late.
still getting Italian?

Me:
Chief Banks is dead. Consoling family.
Won’t be back for a while. Sorry.

Donovan:
fuk, shud i come over to see makita?
is everything ok?

Me:
No. I don’t think she wants you here.
I have to go, got business to attend to.

      I leave my phone face down on the kitchen counter; I took the brief moment between pauses in Beth’s stories about her husband, so I could tell Blake where I was. She’s been talking for hours, not really getting to a point, but her voice entertains and keeps the light air around us―there’s no grief, only remembrance and respect.  

      Banks and I sit against her closed bedroom door and listen to Beth speak her tale of love and how she fell for Derek. Nathalia’s lying on the couch asleep with her head in Shoshana’s lap. The elder of the two is getting drowsy and the slow stroking motion of her hand against Nathalia’s pineapple hair slows and she too drifts off to sleep. Sam on the other hand, is wide awake and heeds considerately, his face a blank mask. Does he regret staying the night?  

      “I guess I should put the kids to bed,” Beth pauses and for the first time all night, her voice wavers as her inner anguish surfaces. Beth full bottom lip quivers and she has to cover her mouth with a trembling hand. Banks and I make our moves.

      “Ma, me and Top Cop will get the rascals ready,” Banks pats Shoshana on the shoulder and her sister drowsily hums and takes her hand while I scoop Nathalia up in my arms, the little girl loops her arms around my neck and continues to snore softly. 

      “I’ll put on the kettle and make us a cuppa,” I offer.

      “No, it’s fine,” Beth says quickly but I can tell she’s hurting more than anyone in the world. The tears finally break their barrier and slide down her flawless cheeks. I press Nathalia to my body with my left hand and dip towards the coffee table to pry three tissues from the Kleenex box. I hand them out to Beth and she gratefully takes them and blows her nose.