Member-only story
Ruin
Lydia has soldiered through some godawful cases before, but she came this close to handing the case file for this one back to Winston. Wasn’t she just telling Hendrik that she’s considering early retirement? After that last one, the one where the guy tried to burn down the building with his six kids inside it because he was sick of paying child support, Lydia was done. Right?
But she hesitates and all is lost. Winston’s gone and the file is right here on her desk and what’s she going to do? She opens it, reaches for her cup of now cold coffee and starts reading.
When it’s dark at four in the afternoon and another storm is coming through Lydia can’t remember there ever having been such a thing as a sunny day. She pulls up her hood, opens her umbrella and shoulders her way out into another endless February evening with all the other worker ants, hustling and bustling to get to the shops, to get home, to get the tube on, supper heated and to shut the world out.
Hen’s late and that’s fine. Lydia puts a plate together for him and slides it into the oven, then tucks herself onto the sofa with a drink and the remote. It doesn’t matter what’s on. The noise, the light and movement are enough. Not the news, though, her defenses aren’t what they used to be. Even so her memory can play hell with her until she manages to get a second or third drink down.
