Page 6 of She Saw What He Did

‘God, that’s better,’ she sighed.

The drone of a helicopter drifted in through the open window. Scott was slouched in his chair with his feet on the desk in front of him. He shook some ice in the tall glass he was holding and saluted Ellen.

‘Any suspicious people on the ferry?’ he asked with a grin.

Ellen thought again how young he looked to be a policeman. His boyish features and floppy black hair made him look more like a young Hugh Grant celebrity than a police officer. Why he never craved more excitement she’d never know. Maybe he didn’t. Perhaps the safety of the island was the kind of policing he preferred.

‘The same old,’ she said, opening the tiny fridge that sat by her desk. It was just big enough to hold two bottles of water, Scott’s sandwich box and Ellen’s supply of peanut butter.

‘I take it that things have been quiet,’ quipped Ellen.

‘No, we’ve been run off our feet. This is the first break I’ve had all morning,’ chortled Scott.

The police station was small. There was barely enough room for the two desks that were in it. It meant they had to be organised. Much to Ellen’s annoyance Ryan was far from organised and the neat desk was again covered in rubbish.

‘I wish Ryan would clear up,’ moaned Ellen, clearing away the empty Coke cans and chocolate wrappers from the desk.

‘It wasn’t me,’ said Scott.

‘Right,’ said Ellen. ‘Where is Ryan, anyway?’

‘Helping Farmer Brown find his escaped sheep.’

Ellen sighed.

‘He should fix that bloody fence.’

‘Are you going to ‘Jakes’ on St Calico’s tomorrow night?’ asked Scott, changing the subject.

Ellen shook her head. She wasn’t really into live bands and fortunately Peter wasn’t either. She knew there’d been a group boat trip arranged but she really couldn’t be bothered.

‘Are you?’ she asked.

Scott pulled a face.

‘I’d like to but I’m on call, remember? Ryan can’t swap as he’s going to that jazz do at Porthaven.’

‘I’ll swap with you,’ said Ellen casually.

‘Aw, thanks Ellen, you’re a star.’

Ellen sat behind her desk and tried not to think of the letter she’d received that morning. The door to the station opened and Ellen and Scott looked up. Rosemary Wilcox, chairwoman of the WI stood in the doorway and Ellen fought back a sigh.

‘Morning Rosemary,’ she said, reaching out to rescue the papers that were in danger of being blown across the room from the sudden breeze that blew in.

‘Those kids are kicking a ball in the gardens again,’ said Rosemary without preamble. ‘You need to speak to them. It doesn’t look good.’

Ellen winked at Scott.

‘Scott will have a word with them,’ she said.

‘Good,’ said Rosemary, turning to leave. ‘Also, Douglas’s bus has a funny tyre. I don’t think he should be driving the holidaymakers around in that.’

‘Scott will check that too,’ said Ellen.

Scott scowled and scraped back his chair.

‘Good,’ said Rosemary, glaring at Scott. ‘It will do him good to get some exercise. I see Ryan is getting plenty, chasing after those sheep.’

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