Fic: Turn and Face the Strain, green cortina, dakfinv
Title: Turn and Face the Strain
Author: dak
Word Count: 8469
Rating: green cortina
Warning: some angst
Pairing: Sam/OC
Summary: The world looks slightly different through Margaret Hunt's eyes.
A/N: This is the next part in my "Steady As She Goes" AU. If you've never read that series, then this fic will make absolutely no sense. If you have read that series, then I hope you enjoy this!
He was working late again. That meant he wouldn’t be home in time to enjoy the fresh roast she’d prepared. She sighed. It would be take away again and an apology for the wasted food. She didn’t mind too much. His job was important to him and important to the city. She could always take food across the street to old Mrs. Myers. Her children never visited anymore, poor woman.
There was a knock at the door and Margaret switched off the oven before heading into the hall and seeing who it was. She opened the door to find a young woman there. Probably a representative from the WI again, trying to get her to join. She sighed.
“I’m not interested, sorry,” she shook her head and began to close the door. A man’s hand kept it open,
“Evening, Mrs. Hunt.”
“Sam!” She felt herself light up upon seeing Gene’s young DI. “It’s so good to see you,” she embraced him in a warm hug, then hurried him into the house. “Shouldn’t you be at the station with Gene?” She asked as he and the woman stepped inside.
“He...gave me the night off. Said you were trying one of my recipes and at least one of us had to eat it.”
“That silly man. Going to work himself to death,” she sighed. “Off with your coats, then. Come on. Make yourselves comfortable.”
Sam and the woman hung their jackets in the hall as she returned to the kitchen.
“It’s a roast. I hope you’ll like it.”
“Smells wonderful,” Sam smiled, standing in the doorway, the woman beside him.
“Now, DI Tyler, aren’t you going to introduce me to your lady friend?”
The woman seemed nervous. Margaret put on her best smile, trying to make her feel at home.
“Mrs. Hunt, you remember my wife. Gladys?”
Suddenly, Margaret felt very silly. How could he forget Sam’s wife?
“I thought you looked familiar. I’m sorry, dear.”
“’ ‘S alright,” Gladys smiled sadly then turned away and walked into the sitting room.
“Mrs. Hunt, Gladys and I have something to tell you. Would you mind sitting with us?” Sam asked.
“Of course not. Let me just take the roast out of the oven.”
She carefully removed the meal and set it on the counter. After removing her oven mitts, she followed Sam into the sitting room. He sat next to his wife on the sofa, while she chose the chair across from them. Sam seemed nervous as he held his wife’s hands.
“Oh go on, Sam. Tell us! Oh, you’re not transferring are you?”
“No. Never. Gene would never allow it.”
“And for good reason,” Margaret nodded. “You have a good one there, Mrs. Tyler. Don’t ever let him go.”
“I won’t,” she said quietly, smiling at her husband.
“Now then, what’s all the fuss about?” She sighed.
“Well, Mrs. Hunt, we wanted to let you know...we’re going to have a baby,” he smiled at his wife.
“Oh Sam! That’s wonderful! Does Gene know?”
“No...We’re going to tell him later,” Sam said.
“Oh, congratulations!” She rose from the chair and hugged him tightly. “You, too, my dear,” she said, hugging Sam’s wife.
“You’re going to be a grandmother,” the woman said quickly.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Sorry. Nothing,” she shook her head.
“This calls for a toast. Let me get the good glasses.” She hurried towards the kitchen, stopping at the edge of the sitting room. “Gene and I always wanted children,” she said wistfully. “He would’ve made such a good father.” She continued to the kitchen, trying to remember where she had put those glasses.
*
Gladys began to cry as soon as her mother left the room. Sam held her against him, stroking her back.
“I know, I know,” he said, trying to be strong for her.
“She doesn’t even think I exist.”
“And that’s not her fault. You know that. She’ll have a lucid moment one day, she always does, and then you’ll tell her about the baby and she’ll be so happy.”
Gladys pushed herself away.
“What if there is no baby, Sam? Mum had three miscarriages. I’ve already had one. What if...”
“You won’t,” he assured her. “Medical technology is better than it was in her day. And you’re seeing a high-risk pregnancy specialist. We’re going to take care of you.”
“I want my mum to take care of me,” she said softly.
“I know,” he pulled her back into his embrace. “I know.”
*
She couldn’t figure out why the plants were dying. They received plenty of sunlight and she watered them once a week. Margaret stuck her finger in the soil of the geranium.
“Plenty damp,” she mumbled to herself as she withdrew her finger and wiped it clean on her apron.
“What do you think?”
Margaret turned round, startled. She had forgotten that Sam’s wife had come to visit.
“I’m sorry, dear. I completely forgot what we were talking about.” Margaret checked her watch. “Those boys should be home soon,” she sighed. “I hope. Hard when they work so late, isn’t it?”
The woman smiled, rubbing a hand over her stomach. Margaret thought she remembered being told the girl was with child.
“You and Sam decide on any names yet?” She asked, sitting down.
“No. We don’t know the gender.”
“Well, how could you?” Margaret laughed. “DI Tyler want to take you to London? Use one of those new machines? Well you tell him I said it’s not right for woman to be traveling so far in your condition. Never know what could happen.” Margaret looked away, desperate to forget her own misfortunes.
“Have you thought about what I said?”
“What about, dear?”
“About moving to a smaller place. One like Aunt Sarah’s in. It would be much easier to maintain, and there would be people who could come check on you...”
“Oh, I’ll never get Gene to leave. He loves this house. Would take an army to move him,” she laughed. “And why should we move anyway? Nothing wrong with this old place,” Margaret gazed lovingly at her sitting room. There were so many memories here.
“Yes, but well, where Sarah is, it’s very nice.”
“Yorkshire?” Margaret asked.
“Rolling Springs. And they have openings now. We could put hou on the waiting list. It’s not so far, and Sam and I could check on you often. Not have to worry so much. And it’ll be harder for us to come round, once the baby...”
“Oh, I understand, love.”
“You do? The woman asked hopefully.
“Of course!”
“Good. That’s good, because if you don’t like that place, I have these other pamphlets I picked up...” She rooted through her purse.
“You and Sam will be busy with the baby.”
“Yes, that’s what I’m...”
“And you won’t have time to come round as often.”
“Exactly, Mum. So...”
“I’ll be fine, Mrs. Tyler. I have my bridge club for company. And there’s always Gene. We can always occupy each other,” she winked.
“No. You’re not listening,” the woman closed her eyes, fighting frustration. “With Aunt Sarah’s stroke, and the baby, we, I...”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“That’s it. That’s exactly it!” The woman sprung from the sofa and began pacing the floor. “You can’t live here on your own anymore. It’s not safe for you. Sam and I can’t afford in-home care, especially since I won’t be working right away after the baby. And he’s only on a detective’s salary.”
“But I’m not alone. I have Gene.”
“No you don’t! He’s gone, Mum.”
“He’s at work.”
“He. Is. Gone.”
“Gene would never leave me.”
“Well he did because he’s dead, and I can’t keep dong this anymore! I can’t take care of you and a child and...”
Margaret slapped the woman across the face. She stumbled back in shock.
“I will not tolerate that kind of talk in my house. This is my house. I don’t care how much you want to take it from me. No, I won’t stand for it. You come here, parading that stomach of yours, showing off what I’ve never had, what I never could have. I have never met such a rude, ungrateful woman as yourself! I bet the child’s not even DI Tyler’s, is it? Sam would never take up with such a woman as you. Now get out of my house!” Margaret pointed towards the door.
The woman wordlessly collected her purse and coat and finally left Margaret alone. After taking several moments to collect herself, Margaret went to the kitchen to fill the watering can. She couldn’t remember the last time she watered the plants. The poor things must have been bone dry.
*
Sam knew something was wrong the moment he walked in the door. He set his briefcase by the door and hurried to the couch, where Gladys was curled up against the arm rest. He sat beside her and pulled her limp body against his.
“Tell me what happened,” he said softly.
“I can’t do it anymore, Sam. I can’t,” she said with emotionless resignation. “I promised Dad, but I can’t look after her anymore. She needs to go someplace.”
Sam pulled her closer.
“He would understand. He’d understand that you did everything you could and that she was too far gone for you to help. He did for me,” he added quietly. At this Gladys looked up, but it was Sam’s turn to fall still. “He had me committed when he couldn’t help me anymore. When I couldn’t help myself.”
Sam closed his eyes and regained control of his emotions, keeping the flashbacks at bay. He reopened his eyes and smiled down at Gladys.
“We’ll find a good place, together. One even Gene Hunt would approve of. You shouldn’t be under this stress.”
“I know you don’t want to lose the baby,” Gladys sighed.
“I don’t want to lose you, either,” he kissed her on the forehead, then called their favorite take away for dinner, before rising from the couch and heading to their bedroom to change. His bad leg was aching tonight, and he didn’t picture it improving in the near future.
*
It was impossible. Impossible! How could they be gone? She searched the whole house but there was no sign of them. Well, she had called the police. They would be here any minute to sort it. Any minute now.
There was a knock on the door.
“Oh thank goodness!” Margaret rushed to the front hall and greeted the two officers standing there. “Yes, yes. Come in. Please come in right away. I’ve been robbed.”
The officers removed their caps and followed Margaret inside.
“A robbery ma’am?” The elder of the two asked.
“Yes. Oh goodness. And in this neighborhood? It was supposed to be safe!” Margaret was wringing her hands on her apron,
“It’s alright, ma’am. Why don’t you have a seat and tell us what happened?”
They escorted her to the sofa and helped her have a seat.
“Well, I went up to the bedroom after breakfast, to do some tidying up. I went to dust the chifferobe and they were gone!”
“What was gone?” The younger copper asked, writing in his notebook.
“My husband’s watch! And his cuff links. Granted, he doesn’t wear them often, but they were a gift from his mum. And expensive, too!”
“Okay. And when was the last time you saw them?”
“Last night.”
“Are you certain?”
“Of course I’m certain! They’ve been stolen. I’m sure of it.”
“Ma’am, is it possible your husband wore them to work?”
“Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“No ma’am. Of course not.”
“Gene never wears those to work. Only for special occasions. Oh, I should’ve just called him myself. He’s a police officer, you know.”
“Really? What division?”
“A Division. He’s the Detective Inspector of CID.”
Margaret waited as the two officers exchanged glances.
“Isn’t that DI a woman?”
“Yeah. Maya Roy,” the elder whispered. “Ma’am, what’s your husband’s name?”
“Gene Hunt. Lord, we just moved to this house. To have a break-in so soon, what’s happening to this world?”
The younger officer was about to ask another question when they heard someone come through the front door.
“Hello? Mrs. Hunt?” A slim, young man appeared in the doorway. “Thank you officers. I’ll take it from here,” he flashed a badge.
“Hardly CID, this,” the older one mumbled. “It’s not a bother, Chief Inspector. We really don’t mind.”
“No, it’s fine. Thank you for your time.” He showed them to the door, then returned to Margaret.
“What happened? Is everything alright?” He asked, sitting across from her. Margaret backed away slightly.
“Where’s Gene?” She asked warily.
“He couldn’t make it, but he’ll be home later. Mrs. Hunt, do you know who I am?”
She looked him up and down, but said nothing.
“It’s Sam. Sam Tyler. Gene’s DI?”
“Don’t be silly. Gene is the DI, you foolish boy,” she sighed, finally recognizing him, and cupped his chin with her palm.
“Mrs. Hunt?”
“Oh, sweetheart. If you needed money, all you had to do was ask.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t...”
“It’s alright, Stu. Just tell me which pawnbrokers you took them to. I’ll buy them back. I always do,” she stroked the side of his face. “We could help, you know. Take the job Genie found for you. I know it’s not glamorous, sweeping floors, but you can stay here. It’ll be enough to get you on your feet.”
“Mrs. Hunt...”
“You’re so thin, Stu,” she said, now rubbing his arm. “We’ve never seen you so bad. Please, son, please let us help. I won’t tell Gene about the watch. It’ll be our secret.”
“Can I use your phone?”
“Sure. Anything you need,” she smiled sadly. Margaret waited patiently for Stu to return, feeling more relieved than before. There hadn’t been a break-in. Just Stuart, again, the poor thing.
“Mrs. Hunt? I’m going to stay here for a few minutes. Then a friend of mine is coming by to stay with you. Is that alright?”
“Oh, is it that Robin? She was a nice girl, Stu. You should’ve held onto her.”
“Mrs. Hunt? Would you like me to make you some tea?”
“That would be lovely. See? You can be a gentleman. No matter what Gene says, eh?”
Stu smiled sadly, then ducked into the kitchen. That boy could turn out alright. She knew it. He just needed someone who believed in him.
*
Sam stood in front of the mirror examining his waistline. He removed his belt and held out the waist of his trousers. Two and a half years and he still couldn’t fit into his old suits without a belt cinching them tight.
“Practicing a new routine?” A smirking voice behind him asked. Gladys soon appeared in the mirror.
“Am I eating enough?” He asked seriously. “I still forget to eat some days.”
“You look alright to me,” she said, wrapping her arms around his slim waist.
“This suit used to fit perfectly. Look,” he let go of the waistband and the trousers dropped to his thighs.
“Never knew you were so concerned with your figure, Samantha,” she teased.
“No. I just want to make sure I’m eating properly. That I’m taking care of myself. Sometimes, I...” Sam trailed off and turned away from the mirror, shrugging off Gladys’s embrace and heading for the wardrobe.
“What’s going on? You’re being all weird and moody again.”
Sam removed his tie and tossed it on the bed, then started on his shirt.
“Sam.”
“I saw your mum today. She didn’t recognize me.” He removed his shirt and tossed it in the laundry bin, then sat on the bed and began removing his shoes. Gladys sat beside him and rested her head on his shoulders.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?”
“She’s never done that before. Gone that far back. She said Gene was a DI. And she thought I was Stu.”
“Who’s Stu?” Gladys asked. Sam stiffened.
“He never told you about Stu?”
“Obviously not, since I asked ‘who’s Stu.’”
Sam kissed her on the head, then stood and removed the ill-fitting trousers. He knew he should tell her the truth, but if Gene had never told her about her uncle, he’d done it for a reason. While he thought she had a right to know, she was also at a critical month in an already high-risk pregnancy. He didn’t want to do anything that would cause her distress.
“He was a friend of Gene’s. A close friend. Had some issues, though. Became a drug addict. Gene did everything he could to help him but...Died of a drug overdose. Gene found the body. It was long before you were born. Long before he knew me.”
Sam grabbed a new pair of jeans from the wardrobe and slipped them on. They were two sizes smaller than what he used to wear.
“That’s awful. Poor Dad. No wonder he grounded me for a year when he found that bag of marijuana. I thought he hated me, the way he reacted.”
“He always had a passion for drug cases. But, he didn’t like to talk about Stu much, if that’s any surprise,” he zipped up his jeans, then grabbed the first shirt he found - a New Order concert tee.
“Is Mum alright?”
“I think so. I had my mum come round and stay with her, just to be sure. She was upset because she couldn’t find Gene’s watch. She thought she’d been robbed.”
“The watch she gave you last week when she was lucid?”
Sam nodded.
“Well don’t even think about giving it back. The real Margaret wanted you to have it, remember? She’d pitch a fit if you returned it.”
“I know.”
“Now, why don’t I order us a big, greasy take away to help you pack on a bit of weight? I am craving fish and chips like you wouldn’t believe,” Gladys stepped up behind him and rubbed a hand through his short hair. “It’s a shame,” she sighed.
“What’s that?” Sam asked, finally relaxing.
“That you just put on all those clothes only to have them ripped off.”
*
Margaret didn’t know what was wrong with her. She used to be so good at cards. Now she was losing nearly every hand.
“I’m sorry, dear. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. Usually I’m much more of a challenge.”
“Oh, it’s alright, Margaret. Some days the cards are on your side. Some days, they’re not. Would you like to go again, or should we chuck it all in?”
“Let’s chuck it in and have some tea instead. I’ve just about had it with these,” she pushed the cards away form her in disgust.
“I used to hate cards,” her friend sighed. “My husband, always wasting his money on them, he was. Took me ages before I could pick up a deck, play an innocent game with my son.”
Margaret rose and began preparing the kettle while her friend organized the deck.
“What does he do again? Your son?”
“He’s a police officer.”
“Oh that’s right. We met at the Dinner and Dance last year, didn’t we? Goodness, how could I forget?”
“It’s alright.”
“What station is he with?”
“He’s, erm, in Hyde, at the moment.”
“Oh, lovely place, I hear. Do you get to see him often?”
“More than I used to. His...his wife’s having a baby soon.”
“How wonderful! Your first grandchild?”
“Yes, it will be.”
Margaret put the kettle on then returned to the table.
“Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter. Long as it’s healthy. They’ve had some...trouble in the past.”
Margaret watched as her friend’s eyes began to tear.
“Ruth, what’s the matter?” She reached out her hand to console her.
“Nothing. Nothing. Only, Sam’s been through so much. His father, the accident, the first miscarriage. I can’t bear the thought of something else happening to him. He’s been so close to breaking, my beautiful boy. He tries to hide it, but I can tell.”
“Mothers always can,” Margaret consoled her.
“He’s worried about being a father, the closer they get to the due date. Vic left when he was four. I never remarried. He’s never had that influence in his life, and maybe that’s my fault. And he’s never been around children. The youngest of all his cousins, and of course no nieces or nephews, being an only child.”
“I’m sure he’ll do fine. Gene was the same way, but soon as Gladys was born, it came so naturally to him.”
“I know, and that’s what I keep trying to tell him. But, he’s taking these parenting courses already, reading all these books and manuals. He’s treating fatherhood so...clinically. He’s afraid of making a mistake,” Ruth shook her head.
“Once the baby comes, he’ll be alright. I’m sure. Must have a good head on his shoulders, if he’s a detective.”
“Sometimes he does,” Ruth smiled. “Others...” she didn’t finish her sentence. The kettle went off, but Margaret ignored it.
“Did he ever see his father again?”
“No.”
“Did you?”
Ruth hesitated, then answered.
“Once. When Sammy graduated from the Academy. I punched him in the nose,” Ruth smiled but if faded quickly.
“Did you ever tell your Sam?”
“No, no. He didn’t need to know his father became a useless alcoholic. Only came because he needed money to pay off some loans. Bastard.”
Margaret pat her friend’s hand, then rose to fix the tea.
“Well, how about we make our tea a little extra special,” Margaret winked. “Gene won’t notice if this bottle is a bit emptier than before.”
*
“Thanks for watching her, Mum.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble, Sammy. You know I like to do it,” Ruth smoothed her son’s tie. “Now remember, your Auntie Heather is coming by for a visit next week. I want you and Gladys at the restaurant at eight sharp. And don’t give her any grief about her new man. Clyde is lovely.”
“Of course, Mum,” Sam smiled and kissed her on the cheek, then checked his watch. “Sorry. I’ve got to go. I’ll be late for my class.”
“Sam,” Ruth called out as he began to leave. “Do you really need all those classes?”
“Yes,” he nodded.
“You know you’ll be a good father.”
Sam said nothing, his hand trembling on the doorknob.
“You won’t be...him.”
Sam looked at the ground, wearing that empty look which always broke her heart.
“Did you ever see him again, Mum?” He asked quietly.
“No,” she answered. “No, I never did.”
Sam nodded, then finally opened the door.
“I have to go. I’ll phone you later, alright?”
“That’s fine, Sam. Be safe!”
Sam nodded again, then disappeared out the door. Ruth took a deep breath then busied herself with cleaning. After all these years, the lie still bothered her.
*
She couldn’t stop gazing out the window. It was such a beautiful day. Bright blue skies and a gentle breeze. Gene had proposed on a day like this. He had never been the romantic sort, not her Gene. And he was so gangly and awkward back then, even after his time in the service. All height and long limbs and not an inkling what to do with them. He was always tripping over his feet, her Gene.
She’d thought he’d tripped that day, too. They’d been walking along the canal path, hand in hand, when suddenly he was on the ground. She’d been about to scold him for dirtying up the trousers his mum had so nicely pressed for him when she noticed the small box in his hands.
He’d stuttered for a bit, her Gene. He tripped over his tongue as much as his feet in those days. Finally, he’d blurted out, “Bugger it all. Just marry me, will you?”
He’d nearly dropped the ring in the canal, she’d grabbed him so hard.
That was long ago, now, Margaret knew. She wasn’t sure how long, but it had been awhile. Gene had grown so quickly after that, learning how to use his weight and his voice to his advantage, and not just at the station. Margaret grinned to herself.
If only they could’ve had a child, she thought, still gazing out the window. Gene would have made such a good father. They would have had a girl, she was sure. A small, bright girl that Gene would have adored, and taken to the pub when he wasn’t supposed to do, and teach how to drive before she was old enough. They would’ve sat on the couch and watched telly together, yelling at the United scum while Margaret dished them vanilla ice cream.
Her fantasies were so real, she’d dreamt them so often, that sometimes she forgot they were fantasies and believed they were memories instead.
Margaret sighed. No, that wasn’t to be. That wasn’t the life she’d been given. She kept gazing out the window. Someone was supposed to visit today, but she couldn’t remember who. She turned away from the window. It was a good time for a nice cuppa, she thought to herself.
No sooner had she entered the kitchen when there was a knock on the door. Sighing again, she retraced her steps and went to the front hall.
“Can I help you?” She asked the strange woman standing there. It must have been one of her new neighbors. Many Indians and Pakistanis had been moving to the area lately. Margaret smiled at the sweet woman. Old Mrs. Butler may not have liked the new arrivals, but Margaret didn’t care. As long as her neighbors were good, decent people, what did it matter what they looked like or where they came from?
“Margaret Hunt?”
“Yes, I’m Margaret. What can I do for you, Miss...”
“Roy. Maya Roy. I work at the station. I’m afraid there’s been an incident. I need you to come to hospital with me.”
For the first time, Margaret noticed the worry in the young woman’s eyes.
“What is it? Has something happened to my Gene?”
“No. It’s...it’s Sam. Sam Tyler? His family asked me to come get you. Please, Mrs. Hunt, if you don’t mind?”
“Yes. Yes, of course. Let me get my things. Is Gene there? He’ll want to be with his DI.”
“Your...family is already there, Mrs. Hunt. No need to worry about that.”
Margaret followed her out to the car and bundled herself inside. Miss Roy said nothing during the drive, and Margaret did not bother her with questions. She would find out the details soon enough.
As stoic as she was on the outside, her heart was breaking on the inside. Why did it have to be Sam? Hadn’t the boy been through enough already? Was life really so cruel? She stared out the window. It was no use asking such silly questions. Being a police officer was a dangerous line of work. No matter how many risks one endured through the day, there would still be more the next. Sam knew that. Gene had known that.
It wasn’t long before they were at the hospital. Margaret followed DI Roy inside to the A&E waiting area. Ruth Tyler was already there, along with Sam’s wife. The poor woman was inconsolable, and very pregnant, to boot. Ruth was trying to comfort her, but to no avail. The girl kept pulling away.
Margaret sighed. It wouldn’t do, having her in a state like this. It wasn’t good for her or the baby. Margaret took a deep breath. She would have to be the strong one today.
“Alright, alright,” she cooed walking over. “Calm down, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“You don’t know that,” she cried. “They’re still operating on the stupid twonk. Anything could...”
Margaret gathered her into her arms and softly stroked her hair, calming her just as she’d done when she was a little girl.
“I know, Gladys, but you have to be strong, love. Your Sam needs you to be strong.”
Gladys pulled back and looked her in the eye.
“Mum? Are...are you...”
“Of course it’s me, silly girl,” Margaret smiled. “Now here. Let’s sit down and take a deep breath. Maya, dear, could you get us some tea?”
“Of course, Mrs. Hunt.”
“Ruth? How are you?”
“Well as can be expected, I suppose,” Sam’s mum said, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. “After you receive that call once, you never expect it to happen again.”
“Come here, sit by me. Gladys, you on the other side.”
The three women sat down, Margaret never leaving go of her daughter’s hand.
“Now, did anyone say what happened?” She asked both women.
“Maya...Maya said he was interviewing a suspect,” Gladys informed her. “He pulled a knife. Sam didn’t see...” she lost control again and began weeping.
“Okay, okay. No need for tears, Gladys. Isn’t that right, Ruth?”
Ruth managed a weak smile.
“Gladdie, do you know how many times your father was injured?”
Gladys shook her head no.
“Oh, too many to count. Least until he made DCI and learned to handle himself better. And Ruth, Sam has already been through worse, hasn’t he?”
“Yes. Yes of course.”
“Any man who can come out of a five month coma, then be back as DCI less than a year later? Well, I wouldn’t settle for anyone less for my daughter, would I?”
She took Ruth’s hand in her other.
“Sam Tyler is a strong willed bastard. No offense, Ruth. That’s what my Gene always said. And he’ll make it through this. We just need to be strong willed bastards, too. Okay?”
“Okay,” Gladys said quietly.
Ruth squeezed her hand.
“Good. Now, where is that tea?”
*
Consciousness came slowly and though the fog of morphine dulled his senses, Sam was grimly aware of his current situation. Before he even acknowledged the hand grasping his, he cracked open his chapped lips and rasped the most important question he could think of.
“What year is it?”
“1973.”
His eyes snapped open, and through his blurred vision, Gladys came into focus.
“Not...funny,” he rasped.
“Yes it is. Besides, you deserved it. You’re not allowed to get injured, DCI Tyler. I’ve told you several times already.”
“Sorry I...disobeyed orders...Guv,” he managed a smirk, then let his eyes drop closed. He managed to stay awake and felt a hand combing through his hair.
“Your mum’s here. In the holding pen. Doc said you could only have one visitor at a time for now.”
“She okay?” He mumbled, turning his head into the touch.
“She’s upset, but alright. Seems worried that you’ll slip into a coma.”
“No reason to,” Sam said and felt himself smile.
“Your DI is here, too. She wanted me to tell you they arrested the bloke and that I’m not allowed to see him, in case I do something, er, drastic.”
“You? Never,” he sighed.
“She did say he’s receiving a warm welcome at the station, since he stabbed their star detective, and all.”
“Didn’t know...they cared.”
Consciousness was getting harder to maintain, but Sam forced his body to obey. He wasn’t scared of not waking up, certainly not. He only wanted to make sure Gladys knew he was okay. That was all.
“It was before the coma that they didn’t care. Now they love you.”
“Cheers.” He would’ve rolled his eyes if he could. “You...okay? The baby?”
The more he forced his mind awake, the more horrible thoughts kept running through it. Thoughts of Gladys struggling to control her emotions, the stress of his ordeal upsetting her and the fragile position she was in.
“We’re fine,” she rubbed his arm. “Little thing was kicking up a fuss, but Mum calmed us down.”
“Want to know...what it is, yet?”
“Nope. You know me. I love surprises.”
“No...you...don’t.” He was losing the battle now. If only he could stay awake a little longer.
“Fine. But this time I will.”
She paused a long time and Sam clearly heard his heart monitor beeping away. He had forgotten how soothing that sound could be. When she next spoke, her lips were close to his ear, whispering to him.
“Rest, Sam. We’ll be here when you wake. And you will wake. I’ll make sure of it.”
At that, Sam took the plunge into unconsciousness and allowed himself to dream. This time, they were truly only dreams.
*
She often found herself with nothing to do. Some people wouldn’t see this as a problem and Margaret didn’t mind relaxing every once in awhile. However, even though she felt as if she had nothing to do, she still knew she had something to do. She just couldn’t remember what it was.
So, she would find herself pacing or gazing out windows. Often, she didn’t know how she got there, but she didn’t let it bother her. She had always been a little forgetful. Yet, while she knew she should be doing something, she knew her house guest should be doing nothing.
“Sam Tyler! Sit down. Making me nervous with all that pacing.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Hunt.”
“Gene finds out you haven’t been resting properly, he’ll have my guts for garters, and yours, too.”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he sighed, nursing his aching side.
“Here - sit down,” she ordered him into a chair. “Now, read one of those books you brought with.”
Sam hobbled into Gene’s chair, wincing as he sat.
“I am supposed to be moving a little,” he grumbled, reaching for the book on the table beside him.
“Yes, a little. Not pacing round the house day and night like a bleeding lunatic. Goodness, how does Gene ever put up with you?”
“No idea,” he sighed, then paused as he cracked open the book. “Could we not talk about Gene right now?” He asked quietly, staring at the floor.
“Had a row, haven’t you?” She shook her head. Sam kept looking at the floor. “Alright, alright. You are the guest after all. Here - you read and I’ll knit. How does that sound?”
“Fine,” Sam forced a smile, then finally focused his attention on the book. Margaret sighed then picked up her knitting needles. Gene and Sam, they always seemed to be arguing about something. Margaret never knew what. They were different men, she could see that clear as day, but in the end, they always seemed to agree with one another.
After another row of stitches, she glanced up at Sam. His brow was furrowed as he concentrated on the book in hand. He had a pen, too, and was circling and underlining various things. Margaret couldn’t make out the title. She went back to her knitting.
“What you reading then?” She asked casually. He didn’t respond. “Sam?”
“Hm?”
“What are you reading?” She asked again.
“Oh. Guide to Practical Parenting,” he answered without looking up.
“Ah, you have that baby coming soon, don’t you?”
“Yes. Soon. Very soon,” he sighed, his worry increasing.
“You know, my mum always said children don’t come with instructions.”
“So they say.”
“Then why are you reading that?”
“They’re not instructions for children. They’re instructions for parents.” He turned the page.
“And you think that’ll help?”
She saw Sam pause in his reading.
“I don’t...I don’t know how to be a father.”
“No one does,” she laughed. His expression remained serious and he mumbled something under his breath that Margaret couldn’t catch. “Say again?”
“Sorry?” Sam asked, turning another page.
“What did you just say? I couldn’t hear you.”
“Oh. It was nothing,” he said and shrunk in the chair. Margaret sighed dramatically and set her knitting in her lap.
“Sam, you know you can talk to me, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“If you have something to get off your chest, it’ll stay between the two of us, if you want it to. You know that.” She waited patiently for Sam to speak. This trick always worked on Gene - wait quietly until the other spoke.
“You said no one knows how to be a parent,” he said softly. “But, most people have a good example. My mother is wonderful. She always made the right decisions when raising me. But my father, I never knew him. Not really. And what I did learn about him...He’s not the example I want to follow.” Sam was staring blankly at the floor again.
“And you think a book can teach you what he couldn’t?”
“I don’t know. I just want to be prepared. I don’t want to make the wrong decisions. I feel like I’ve always made the wrong decisions in my personal life.”
“DI Tyler, if you try to be the perfect parent, of course you’re going to fail,” she sighed, setting aside her knitting and walking over to his chair. “Every parent, at one time or another, makes a mistake. The trick is, one, to not make the same ones over and over, and, two, make most of them when they’ll be too young to remember.”
Sam barely smiled, but Margaret could see she was talking some sense into him.
“You must’ve been a great mum,” he said. Margaret took his hand and gave it a good squeeze.
“Well, I like to think I would’ve been, had God given me the chance. Now, what do you want to eat? Need to get a good meal in you. That doc from St. Mary’s is coming tomorrow to check on you. Can’t have him thinking we’re not taking proper care of you. I know, a nice pot roast! How does that sound? I’ll go and start it.”
She gave him a pat on the knee, then headed for the kitchen. All men were silly in the head when it came to fatherhood, Margaret knew. All of their confidence went right out the window. Women reacted the same, sometimes, but they were smart enough not to show it.
Yes, Gene had been a mess when they first brought Gladys home. Was up every hour of the night checking to make sure she was still breathing. Yes, men were quite silly when it came to babies, Margaret shook her head.
As she took a deep breath, she realized she was in the kitchen. Unable to remember the reason she had entered, she left and headed upstairs. Margaret hated it when she had nothing to do because she always felt like should be doing something. Maybe she would give Gladys’s room a good cleaning.
*
“You shouldn’t be out. You’re not fully recovered.”
“I’m the father. I’m not missing Lamaze class.”
“It’s not like you don’t know what you’re doing. It was part of your medical training. And you even delivered a baby before.”
“I didn’t deliver the baby. The woman had already given birth by the time we arrived. And that was ages ago. I was still in uniform.”
Gladys giggled.
“What’s so funny.”
“You in uniform. Little PC Tyler in his cap and cravat, helping old ladies cross the street.”
“If you’re that interested, my mum has pictures.”
“Why haven’t I seen them?”
“Because I haven’t let her show you. But, if you let me into the car, I’ll pull out the album myself.”
Gladys pondered the offer, then unlocked the car doors. Sam opened the driver’s side where Gladys was seated.
“Other side, Mister,” she scolded.
“You shouldn’t be driving.”
“I’m only seven months. And I’m not that big. And you certainly shouldn’t be driving. You’re still on pain meds.”
“I haven’t taken any this morning.”
“You’re meant to be. Did you skip your antibiotic as well?”
“I...can’t remember, actually.”
“Oh, so you’re going to get sepsis and die, are you? There are easier ways of getting out of marriage, Tyler.” She tried to close the door, but Sam held it open.
“It’s not safe for you to be driving. What if there’s an accident and the air bags go off? Or you hit your stomach on the steering wheel?”
“It’s not safe for you to drive. What if you’re the cause of the accident and you lose your badge and get locked up?”
“You really think that would happen?”
“No. Do you really think I’ll have an accident?”
“No.”
“So, what are we going to do about this, Mr. Tyler?”
“I don’t know, Mrs. Tyler,” Sam thought for a moment. “Stay in and watch series two of The Sweeney?”
Gladys smiled and held out her hand.
“Sounds like fun.”
Sam took her hand and helped her out of their car.
“Should be. I can point out all the historical inaccuracies.”
“Life of the party, you are.” They started for their building’s entrance. “Sam, are you sure it’s okay if we miss? I know how anal you are about these class things.”
Sam did not answer. Instead he wrapped his arm around her and escorted her inside.
*
She could tell something was wrong. She always had good intuition, ever since she was a little girl. Margaret paced the sitting room. Something was certainly wrong. She should call someone, but she didn’t know who. She couldn’t remember anyone’s number. She wasn’t even sure if this was London or Manchester.
She could feel the panic rising. Something was wrong, but she didn’t know what and she didn’t know how to fix it. She supposed if she waited long enough, someone would come round and explain it all to her, but she didn’t know if anyone was coming. She had tried leaving, tracking someone down for herself, but the front door was locked and she couldn’t find the keys.
Margaret paced and paced and paced. Someone had to come. Someone had to call. Someone would, wouldn’t they? Someone would let her know what was going on. They would have to. She sat on the sofa. She was upset, utterly upset, and she had no idea why.
Margaret put her head in her hands and began to cry. She wanted Gene to be here, but she knew he wouldn’t be. She was here. Lost and forgotten and upset, but she didn’t know why. So, she sat and she cried.
*
He hated this feeling. He hated being completely out of control of a situation. It was his job to always be in control. It was against his nature to act any other way.
“Sam, love, sit here. Come on. You’re not helping yourself, pacing like that.”
“I’m fine, Mum,” he snapped, hugging his arms round his chest and continuing to pace.
“Don’t think you can like to me, Sam Tyler. Now, you may be a grown man, but that doesn’t mean you can ignore your mother. Sit.”
Sam reluctantly did what he was told, though he still kept his arms wrapped protectively around his waist. He began incessantly tapping his foot.
“Sam?”
“What?”
His mum nodded to his foot.
“Sorry,” he sighed and struggled to stop.
“I rang Margaret and explained what was happening, but I’m not sure she understood.”
“One more thing I need to worry about.” He began tapping his foot again. “She was supposed to be in the care facility by the time...” Sam trailed off and shook his head. “Now I need to worry about her and Gladys and why did she have to go into labor now? She’s a months an half early. Margaret was supposed to be moved in two weeks and now she’s home alone with no one to watch her, but if I leave here, something could happen to Gladys, and I couldn’t live with myself if...” Sam cut off his own sentence.
His mum wrapped an around him.
“Oh, my beautiful boy. Must you always put the whole world on your shoulders?”
Sam kept tapping his foot.
“We’ve already had one miscarriage. The risk was always there, but I thought, this time, we’d already made it this far. Andy why can’t I be in there with her? I should be there. Instead, I’m stuck here and there’s nothing...Can’t something good happen to me? Just once. Just once in my life, can’t something go as planned without any complications?”
His mum rubbed his back, but he felt no comfort. He couldn’t feel anything at all, except anger and worry.
“Has your life really been so miserable?” She asked.
“Mum, I didn’t mean...”
“You’re a miracle, Sam. You were my miracle when you were born. You were your own miracle when you survived the accident. Now, you’ll be that baby’s miracle and it’ll be yours.”
“I can’t do this. I can’t be a father.”
“Sammy...”
“I won’t know what to do. I’ll only screw it all up. I’ll be just like Dad...”
Ruth grabbed his face in her hands and forced him to look at her.
“Sam Tyler, you listen to me. You are not your father. You are nothing like him. You never were, not even when he was around. You are smart and strong and caring and dedicated. You will be a great father to your child. I know because I wouldn’t have raised you any other way.”
“I’m scared, Mum.”
“That’s because you understand the responsibility of being a parent. That already puts you a big step ahead of your father. The baby will be fine. Gladys will be fine. Margaret will be fine. Why? Because they have my Sam looking after them and I’ve always been alright when he’s around. Now, sit still before you rip those stitches. I know we’re already in hospital, but that doesn’t mean you need to get yourself admitted. I don’t think I could take it if I saw one more hospital bracelet on your wrist.”
Sam forced his foot to slow. As he did so, a doctor entered the room and called his name. His heart leapt as he saw the smile on her face.
“Mr. Tyler, would you like to meet your son?”
*
The windows were nice, very nice, and the bed was very comfortable. The dresser she had brought form home, along with the small table. It fit the room quite nicely. It wasn’t the same as home, but it was much easier to care for and there were so many more things to keep her occupied.
She and Roberta down the hall got on quite well. Her husband had been a police officer also, and they had so many stories they could swap.
“Mrs. Hunt, you’re having some visitors today, aren’t you?” The cheerful attendant asked as he entered the room.
“Am I?” She asked, she couldn’t remember.
“Your family’s coming to see you. Should be here any minute. There anything you need?”
“No, I’m alright. Thank you.”
“I’ll bring ‘em over when they arrive, then.”
Margaret turned and faced the window. The view was lovely. It looked out onto a garden. She could see the birds come and go. Gene hated birds. He’d always had to clean their messes off his beloved cars.
“Hello?”
Margaret turned to the doorway.
“Sam! How lovely. I wasn’t expecting you today. Oh my goodness. Is that the little one? Let me see, let me see.” She hurried over as Sam carried the baby inside, his wife following close behind with the diaper bag. “Oh, Mrs. Tyler,” she rushed to the woman first and gave her a warm hug. “How are you dear? They said it was a difficult delivery. I was praying you’d be alright,” she gently stroked her hair.
“I’m doing much better,” Gladys smiled. “How are you? Do you like it here? Is there anything you need? Are they treating you alright? If they’re not, you let me know right away. I won’t put up with any nonsense from this lot.”
“Oh, it’s lovely dear. Just lovely. Don’t worry your pretty head.”
A small gurgle came from the table where Sam had set the carrier.
“Oh the baby! Let me see.”
Sam stood back and allowed her to reach in and scoop up the small child.
“My goodness. He’s so tiny. Hello precious. How are you? Oh look at you. I could eat you up, you little thing,” she cradled him gently. “I’m sorry. Sam. I can’t recall his name. I know you’ve told me.”
“It’s Nicholas,” he said, watching proudly as he slipped an arm around his wife. “Nicholas Eugene.”
“Hello handsome Nicholas,” she cooed. “You’ll be a lady killer, I can tell. Yes, all the girls will be chasing you, just like your grandfather. Oh, Genie would have loved you, little one.”
*
Sam gently rocked him as Gladys slept. It had been his turn to wake and feed the baby and Sam hadn’t minded at all. He didn’t think he would ever mind as he quietly sang his son back to sleep. He wasn’t sure why, but Nicholas loved it when he sang Bowie, preferring “Changes” to the many lullabies Sam had tried previously.
His son had been asleep for at least fifteen minutes, but Sam couldn’t put him down. Instead, he sat down on the couch, cradling the small child in his arms.
“Hello big man,” he whispered. “You’re small now, but you’ll grow up big and strong, I can tell. You’ll be strong enough to do whatever you want and be whatever you want. Except a door-to-door salesman. That didn’t work out so well for your grandfather. Maybe you’ll be a psychologist, hm? So you can figure out how your crazy dad’s brain works. Or maybe an expert in time travel, for that matter. Either way, I’ll always be there for you, the way your maternal grandfather was always there for me. Minus the verbal and physical abuse. And I’ll never call you ‘Mabel,’ though your mum might.
“What I will do is take you to every Man United match we can afford. And get you a cat, but don’t tell your mum. She’s never liked cats. And you’ll always have clothes that fit, and presents on Christmas, and I’ll be there for every birthday. And whenever you need anything, you’ll have me. That’s a promise. And while Sam Tyler has been known to make mistakes, he always keeps his promises.”
Sam leaned down and kissed his son on the forehead. He eventually gave way and returned Nicholas to his crib before crawling back to his own bed and wrapping an arm around his sleeping wife.
He was still terrified, to be sure, but each day seemed to be getting easier. He finally felt as though as he was living in the present, his eyes on the future, instead of looking back to the past. His son would be okay and, if his suspicions were correct, that little boy had one hell of a guardian angle looking out for him.
Sam drifted off to sleep and, while he knew it was only in his head, he swore he heard a voice whisper to him before he fell asleep.
“You’ll be a good father, Sam. I know you will.”
Author: dak
Word Count: 8469
Rating: green cortina
Warning: some angst
Pairing: Sam/OC
Summary: The world looks slightly different through Margaret Hunt's eyes.
A/N: This is the next part in my "Steady As She Goes" AU. If you've never read that series, then this fic will make absolutely no sense. If you have read that series, then I hope you enjoy this!
He was working late again. That meant he wouldn’t be home in time to enjoy the fresh roast she’d prepared. She sighed. It would be take away again and an apology for the wasted food. She didn’t mind too much. His job was important to him and important to the city. She could always take food across the street to old Mrs. Myers. Her children never visited anymore, poor woman.
There was a knock at the door and Margaret switched off the oven before heading into the hall and seeing who it was. She opened the door to find a young woman there. Probably a representative from the WI again, trying to get her to join. She sighed.
“I’m not interested, sorry,” she shook her head and began to close the door. A man’s hand kept it open,
“Evening, Mrs. Hunt.”
“Sam!” She felt herself light up upon seeing Gene’s young DI. “It’s so good to see you,” she embraced him in a warm hug, then hurried him into the house. “Shouldn’t you be at the station with Gene?” She asked as he and the woman stepped inside.
“He...gave me the night off. Said you were trying one of my recipes and at least one of us had to eat it.”
“That silly man. Going to work himself to death,” she sighed. “Off with your coats, then. Come on. Make yourselves comfortable.”
Sam and the woman hung their jackets in the hall as she returned to the kitchen.
“It’s a roast. I hope you’ll like it.”
“Smells wonderful,” Sam smiled, standing in the doorway, the woman beside him.
“Now, DI Tyler, aren’t you going to introduce me to your lady friend?”
The woman seemed nervous. Margaret put on her best smile, trying to make her feel at home.
“Mrs. Hunt, you remember my wife. Gladys?”
Suddenly, Margaret felt very silly. How could he forget Sam’s wife?
“I thought you looked familiar. I’m sorry, dear.”
“’ ‘S alright,” Gladys smiled sadly then turned away and walked into the sitting room.
“Mrs. Hunt, Gladys and I have something to tell you. Would you mind sitting with us?” Sam asked.
“Of course not. Let me just take the roast out of the oven.”
She carefully removed the meal and set it on the counter. After removing her oven mitts, she followed Sam into the sitting room. He sat next to his wife on the sofa, while she chose the chair across from them. Sam seemed nervous as he held his wife’s hands.
“Oh go on, Sam. Tell us! Oh, you’re not transferring are you?”
“No. Never. Gene would never allow it.”
“And for good reason,” Margaret nodded. “You have a good one there, Mrs. Tyler. Don’t ever let him go.”
“I won’t,” she said quietly, smiling at her husband.
“Now then, what’s all the fuss about?” She sighed.
“Well, Mrs. Hunt, we wanted to let you know...we’re going to have a baby,” he smiled at his wife.
“Oh Sam! That’s wonderful! Does Gene know?”
“No...We’re going to tell him later,” Sam said.
“Oh, congratulations!” She rose from the chair and hugged him tightly. “You, too, my dear,” she said, hugging Sam’s wife.
“You’re going to be a grandmother,” the woman said quickly.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Sorry. Nothing,” she shook her head.
“This calls for a toast. Let me get the good glasses.” She hurried towards the kitchen, stopping at the edge of the sitting room. “Gene and I always wanted children,” she said wistfully. “He would’ve made such a good father.” She continued to the kitchen, trying to remember where she had put those glasses.
*
Gladys began to cry as soon as her mother left the room. Sam held her against him, stroking her back.
“I know, I know,” he said, trying to be strong for her.
“She doesn’t even think I exist.”
“And that’s not her fault. You know that. She’ll have a lucid moment one day, she always does, and then you’ll tell her about the baby and she’ll be so happy.”
Gladys pushed herself away.
“What if there is no baby, Sam? Mum had three miscarriages. I’ve already had one. What if...”
“You won’t,” he assured her. “Medical technology is better than it was in her day. And you’re seeing a high-risk pregnancy specialist. We’re going to take care of you.”
“I want my mum to take care of me,” she said softly.
“I know,” he pulled her back into his embrace. “I know.”
*
She couldn’t figure out why the plants were dying. They received plenty of sunlight and she watered them once a week. Margaret stuck her finger in the soil of the geranium.
“Plenty damp,” she mumbled to herself as she withdrew her finger and wiped it clean on her apron.
“What do you think?”
Margaret turned round, startled. She had forgotten that Sam’s wife had come to visit.
“I’m sorry, dear. I completely forgot what we were talking about.” Margaret checked her watch. “Those boys should be home soon,” she sighed. “I hope. Hard when they work so late, isn’t it?”
The woman smiled, rubbing a hand over her stomach. Margaret thought she remembered being told the girl was with child.
“You and Sam decide on any names yet?” She asked, sitting down.
“No. We don’t know the gender.”
“Well, how could you?” Margaret laughed. “DI Tyler want to take you to London? Use one of those new machines? Well you tell him I said it’s not right for woman to be traveling so far in your condition. Never know what could happen.” Margaret looked away, desperate to forget her own misfortunes.
“Have you thought about what I said?”
“What about, dear?”
“About moving to a smaller place. One like Aunt Sarah’s in. It would be much easier to maintain, and there would be people who could come check on you...”
“Oh, I’ll never get Gene to leave. He loves this house. Would take an army to move him,” she laughed. “And why should we move anyway? Nothing wrong with this old place,” Margaret gazed lovingly at her sitting room. There were so many memories here.
“Yes, but well, where Sarah is, it’s very nice.”
“Yorkshire?” Margaret asked.
“Rolling Springs. And they have openings now. We could put hou on the waiting list. It’s not so far, and Sam and I could check on you often. Not have to worry so much. And it’ll be harder for us to come round, once the baby...”
“Oh, I understand, love.”
“You do? The woman asked hopefully.
“Of course!”
“Good. That’s good, because if you don’t like that place, I have these other pamphlets I picked up...” She rooted through her purse.
“You and Sam will be busy with the baby.”
“Yes, that’s what I’m...”
“And you won’t have time to come round as often.”
“Exactly, Mum. So...”
“I’ll be fine, Mrs. Tyler. I have my bridge club for company. And there’s always Gene. We can always occupy each other,” she winked.
“No. You’re not listening,” the woman closed her eyes, fighting frustration. “With Aunt Sarah’s stroke, and the baby, we, I...”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“That’s it. That’s exactly it!” The woman sprung from the sofa and began pacing the floor. “You can’t live here on your own anymore. It’s not safe for you. Sam and I can’t afford in-home care, especially since I won’t be working right away after the baby. And he’s only on a detective’s salary.”
“But I’m not alone. I have Gene.”
“No you don’t! He’s gone, Mum.”
“He’s at work.”
“He. Is. Gone.”
“Gene would never leave me.”
“Well he did because he’s dead, and I can’t keep dong this anymore! I can’t take care of you and a child and...”
Margaret slapped the woman across the face. She stumbled back in shock.
“I will not tolerate that kind of talk in my house. This is my house. I don’t care how much you want to take it from me. No, I won’t stand for it. You come here, parading that stomach of yours, showing off what I’ve never had, what I never could have. I have never met such a rude, ungrateful woman as yourself! I bet the child’s not even DI Tyler’s, is it? Sam would never take up with such a woman as you. Now get out of my house!” Margaret pointed towards the door.
The woman wordlessly collected her purse and coat and finally left Margaret alone. After taking several moments to collect herself, Margaret went to the kitchen to fill the watering can. She couldn’t remember the last time she watered the plants. The poor things must have been bone dry.
*
Sam knew something was wrong the moment he walked in the door. He set his briefcase by the door and hurried to the couch, where Gladys was curled up against the arm rest. He sat beside her and pulled her limp body against his.
“Tell me what happened,” he said softly.
“I can’t do it anymore, Sam. I can’t,” she said with emotionless resignation. “I promised Dad, but I can’t look after her anymore. She needs to go someplace.”
Sam pulled her closer.
“He would understand. He’d understand that you did everything you could and that she was too far gone for you to help. He did for me,” he added quietly. At this Gladys looked up, but it was Sam’s turn to fall still. “He had me committed when he couldn’t help me anymore. When I couldn’t help myself.”
Sam closed his eyes and regained control of his emotions, keeping the flashbacks at bay. He reopened his eyes and smiled down at Gladys.
“We’ll find a good place, together. One even Gene Hunt would approve of. You shouldn’t be under this stress.”
“I know you don’t want to lose the baby,” Gladys sighed.
“I don’t want to lose you, either,” he kissed her on the forehead, then called their favorite take away for dinner, before rising from the couch and heading to their bedroom to change. His bad leg was aching tonight, and he didn’t picture it improving in the near future.
*
It was impossible. Impossible! How could they be gone? She searched the whole house but there was no sign of them. Well, she had called the police. They would be here any minute to sort it. Any minute now.
There was a knock on the door.
“Oh thank goodness!” Margaret rushed to the front hall and greeted the two officers standing there. “Yes, yes. Come in. Please come in right away. I’ve been robbed.”
The officers removed their caps and followed Margaret inside.
“A robbery ma’am?” The elder of the two asked.
“Yes. Oh goodness. And in this neighborhood? It was supposed to be safe!” Margaret was wringing her hands on her apron,
“It’s alright, ma’am. Why don’t you have a seat and tell us what happened?”
They escorted her to the sofa and helped her have a seat.
“Well, I went up to the bedroom after breakfast, to do some tidying up. I went to dust the chifferobe and they were gone!”
“What was gone?” The younger copper asked, writing in his notebook.
“My husband’s watch! And his cuff links. Granted, he doesn’t wear them often, but they were a gift from his mum. And expensive, too!”
“Okay. And when was the last time you saw them?”
“Last night.”
“Are you certain?”
“Of course I’m certain! They’ve been stolen. I’m sure of it.”
“Ma’am, is it possible your husband wore them to work?”
“Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“No ma’am. Of course not.”
“Gene never wears those to work. Only for special occasions. Oh, I should’ve just called him myself. He’s a police officer, you know.”
“Really? What division?”
“A Division. He’s the Detective Inspector of CID.”
Margaret waited as the two officers exchanged glances.
“Isn’t that DI a woman?”
“Yeah. Maya Roy,” the elder whispered. “Ma’am, what’s your husband’s name?”
“Gene Hunt. Lord, we just moved to this house. To have a break-in so soon, what’s happening to this world?”
The younger officer was about to ask another question when they heard someone come through the front door.
“Hello? Mrs. Hunt?” A slim, young man appeared in the doorway. “Thank you officers. I’ll take it from here,” he flashed a badge.
“Hardly CID, this,” the older one mumbled. “It’s not a bother, Chief Inspector. We really don’t mind.”
“No, it’s fine. Thank you for your time.” He showed them to the door, then returned to Margaret.
“What happened? Is everything alright?” He asked, sitting across from her. Margaret backed away slightly.
“Where’s Gene?” She asked warily.
“He couldn’t make it, but he’ll be home later. Mrs. Hunt, do you know who I am?”
She looked him up and down, but said nothing.
“It’s Sam. Sam Tyler. Gene’s DI?”
“Don’t be silly. Gene is the DI, you foolish boy,” she sighed, finally recognizing him, and cupped his chin with her palm.
“Mrs. Hunt?”
“Oh, sweetheart. If you needed money, all you had to do was ask.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t...”
“It’s alright, Stu. Just tell me which pawnbrokers you took them to. I’ll buy them back. I always do,” she stroked the side of his face. “We could help, you know. Take the job Genie found for you. I know it’s not glamorous, sweeping floors, but you can stay here. It’ll be enough to get you on your feet.”
“Mrs. Hunt...”
“You’re so thin, Stu,” she said, now rubbing his arm. “We’ve never seen you so bad. Please, son, please let us help. I won’t tell Gene about the watch. It’ll be our secret.”
“Can I use your phone?”
“Sure. Anything you need,” she smiled sadly. Margaret waited patiently for Stu to return, feeling more relieved than before. There hadn’t been a break-in. Just Stuart, again, the poor thing.
“Mrs. Hunt? I’m going to stay here for a few minutes. Then a friend of mine is coming by to stay with you. Is that alright?”
“Oh, is it that Robin? She was a nice girl, Stu. You should’ve held onto her.”
“Mrs. Hunt? Would you like me to make you some tea?”
“That would be lovely. See? You can be a gentleman. No matter what Gene says, eh?”
Stu smiled sadly, then ducked into the kitchen. That boy could turn out alright. She knew it. He just needed someone who believed in him.
*
Sam stood in front of the mirror examining his waistline. He removed his belt and held out the waist of his trousers. Two and a half years and he still couldn’t fit into his old suits without a belt cinching them tight.
“Practicing a new routine?” A smirking voice behind him asked. Gladys soon appeared in the mirror.
“Am I eating enough?” He asked seriously. “I still forget to eat some days.”
“You look alright to me,” she said, wrapping her arms around his slim waist.
“This suit used to fit perfectly. Look,” he let go of the waistband and the trousers dropped to his thighs.
“Never knew you were so concerned with your figure, Samantha,” she teased.
“No. I just want to make sure I’m eating properly. That I’m taking care of myself. Sometimes, I...” Sam trailed off and turned away from the mirror, shrugging off Gladys’s embrace and heading for the wardrobe.
“What’s going on? You’re being all weird and moody again.”
Sam removed his tie and tossed it on the bed, then started on his shirt.
“Sam.”
“I saw your mum today. She didn’t recognize me.” He removed his shirt and tossed it in the laundry bin, then sat on the bed and began removing his shoes. Gladys sat beside him and rested her head on his shoulders.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?”
“She’s never done that before. Gone that far back. She said Gene was a DI. And she thought I was Stu.”
“Who’s Stu?” Gladys asked. Sam stiffened.
“He never told you about Stu?”
“Obviously not, since I asked ‘who’s Stu.’”
Sam kissed her on the head, then stood and removed the ill-fitting trousers. He knew he should tell her the truth, but if Gene had never told her about her uncle, he’d done it for a reason. While he thought she had a right to know, she was also at a critical month in an already high-risk pregnancy. He didn’t want to do anything that would cause her distress.
“He was a friend of Gene’s. A close friend. Had some issues, though. Became a drug addict. Gene did everything he could to help him but...Died of a drug overdose. Gene found the body. It was long before you were born. Long before he knew me.”
Sam grabbed a new pair of jeans from the wardrobe and slipped them on. They were two sizes smaller than what he used to wear.
“That’s awful. Poor Dad. No wonder he grounded me for a year when he found that bag of marijuana. I thought he hated me, the way he reacted.”
“He always had a passion for drug cases. But, he didn’t like to talk about Stu much, if that’s any surprise,” he zipped up his jeans, then grabbed the first shirt he found - a New Order concert tee.
“Is Mum alright?”
“I think so. I had my mum come round and stay with her, just to be sure. She was upset because she couldn’t find Gene’s watch. She thought she’d been robbed.”
“The watch she gave you last week when she was lucid?”
Sam nodded.
“Well don’t even think about giving it back. The real Margaret wanted you to have it, remember? She’d pitch a fit if you returned it.”
“I know.”
“Now, why don’t I order us a big, greasy take away to help you pack on a bit of weight? I am craving fish and chips like you wouldn’t believe,” Gladys stepped up behind him and rubbed a hand through his short hair. “It’s a shame,” she sighed.
“What’s that?” Sam asked, finally relaxing.
“That you just put on all those clothes only to have them ripped off.”
*
Margaret didn’t know what was wrong with her. She used to be so good at cards. Now she was losing nearly every hand.
“I’m sorry, dear. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. Usually I’m much more of a challenge.”
“Oh, it’s alright, Margaret. Some days the cards are on your side. Some days, they’re not. Would you like to go again, or should we chuck it all in?”
“Let’s chuck it in and have some tea instead. I’ve just about had it with these,” she pushed the cards away form her in disgust.
“I used to hate cards,” her friend sighed. “My husband, always wasting his money on them, he was. Took me ages before I could pick up a deck, play an innocent game with my son.”
Margaret rose and began preparing the kettle while her friend organized the deck.
“What does he do again? Your son?”
“He’s a police officer.”
“Oh that’s right. We met at the Dinner and Dance last year, didn’t we? Goodness, how could I forget?”
“It’s alright.”
“What station is he with?”
“He’s, erm, in Hyde, at the moment.”
“Oh, lovely place, I hear. Do you get to see him often?”
“More than I used to. His...his wife’s having a baby soon.”
“How wonderful! Your first grandchild?”
“Yes, it will be.”
Margaret put the kettle on then returned to the table.
“Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter. Long as it’s healthy. They’ve had some...trouble in the past.”
Margaret watched as her friend’s eyes began to tear.
“Ruth, what’s the matter?” She reached out her hand to console her.
“Nothing. Nothing. Only, Sam’s been through so much. His father, the accident, the first miscarriage. I can’t bear the thought of something else happening to him. He’s been so close to breaking, my beautiful boy. He tries to hide it, but I can tell.”
“Mothers always can,” Margaret consoled her.
“He’s worried about being a father, the closer they get to the due date. Vic left when he was four. I never remarried. He’s never had that influence in his life, and maybe that’s my fault. And he’s never been around children. The youngest of all his cousins, and of course no nieces or nephews, being an only child.”
“I’m sure he’ll do fine. Gene was the same way, but soon as Gladys was born, it came so naturally to him.”
“I know, and that’s what I keep trying to tell him. But, he’s taking these parenting courses already, reading all these books and manuals. He’s treating fatherhood so...clinically. He’s afraid of making a mistake,” Ruth shook her head.
“Once the baby comes, he’ll be alright. I’m sure. Must have a good head on his shoulders, if he’s a detective.”
“Sometimes he does,” Ruth smiled. “Others...” she didn’t finish her sentence. The kettle went off, but Margaret ignored it.
“Did he ever see his father again?”
“No.”
“Did you?”
Ruth hesitated, then answered.
“Once. When Sammy graduated from the Academy. I punched him in the nose,” Ruth smiled but if faded quickly.
“Did you ever tell your Sam?”
“No, no. He didn’t need to know his father became a useless alcoholic. Only came because he needed money to pay off some loans. Bastard.”
Margaret pat her friend’s hand, then rose to fix the tea.
“Well, how about we make our tea a little extra special,” Margaret winked. “Gene won’t notice if this bottle is a bit emptier than before.”
*
“Thanks for watching her, Mum.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble, Sammy. You know I like to do it,” Ruth smoothed her son’s tie. “Now remember, your Auntie Heather is coming by for a visit next week. I want you and Gladys at the restaurant at eight sharp. And don’t give her any grief about her new man. Clyde is lovely.”
“Of course, Mum,” Sam smiled and kissed her on the cheek, then checked his watch. “Sorry. I’ve got to go. I’ll be late for my class.”
“Sam,” Ruth called out as he began to leave. “Do you really need all those classes?”
“Yes,” he nodded.
“You know you’ll be a good father.”
Sam said nothing, his hand trembling on the doorknob.
“You won’t be...him.”
Sam looked at the ground, wearing that empty look which always broke her heart.
“Did you ever see him again, Mum?” He asked quietly.
“No,” she answered. “No, I never did.”
Sam nodded, then finally opened the door.
“I have to go. I’ll phone you later, alright?”
“That’s fine, Sam. Be safe!”
Sam nodded again, then disappeared out the door. Ruth took a deep breath then busied herself with cleaning. After all these years, the lie still bothered her.
*
She couldn’t stop gazing out the window. It was such a beautiful day. Bright blue skies and a gentle breeze. Gene had proposed on a day like this. He had never been the romantic sort, not her Gene. And he was so gangly and awkward back then, even after his time in the service. All height and long limbs and not an inkling what to do with them. He was always tripping over his feet, her Gene.
She’d thought he’d tripped that day, too. They’d been walking along the canal path, hand in hand, when suddenly he was on the ground. She’d been about to scold him for dirtying up the trousers his mum had so nicely pressed for him when she noticed the small box in his hands.
He’d stuttered for a bit, her Gene. He tripped over his tongue as much as his feet in those days. Finally, he’d blurted out, “Bugger it all. Just marry me, will you?”
He’d nearly dropped the ring in the canal, she’d grabbed him so hard.
That was long ago, now, Margaret knew. She wasn’t sure how long, but it had been awhile. Gene had grown so quickly after that, learning how to use his weight and his voice to his advantage, and not just at the station. Margaret grinned to herself.
If only they could’ve had a child, she thought, still gazing out the window. Gene would have made such a good father. They would have had a girl, she was sure. A small, bright girl that Gene would have adored, and taken to the pub when he wasn’t supposed to do, and teach how to drive before she was old enough. They would’ve sat on the couch and watched telly together, yelling at the United scum while Margaret dished them vanilla ice cream.
Her fantasies were so real, she’d dreamt them so often, that sometimes she forgot they were fantasies and believed they were memories instead.
Margaret sighed. No, that wasn’t to be. That wasn’t the life she’d been given. She kept gazing out the window. Someone was supposed to visit today, but she couldn’t remember who. She turned away from the window. It was a good time for a nice cuppa, she thought to herself.
No sooner had she entered the kitchen when there was a knock on the door. Sighing again, she retraced her steps and went to the front hall.
“Can I help you?” She asked the strange woman standing there. It must have been one of her new neighbors. Many Indians and Pakistanis had been moving to the area lately. Margaret smiled at the sweet woman. Old Mrs. Butler may not have liked the new arrivals, but Margaret didn’t care. As long as her neighbors were good, decent people, what did it matter what they looked like or where they came from?
“Margaret Hunt?”
“Yes, I’m Margaret. What can I do for you, Miss...”
“Roy. Maya Roy. I work at the station. I’m afraid there’s been an incident. I need you to come to hospital with me.”
For the first time, Margaret noticed the worry in the young woman’s eyes.
“What is it? Has something happened to my Gene?”
“No. It’s...it’s Sam. Sam Tyler? His family asked me to come get you. Please, Mrs. Hunt, if you don’t mind?”
“Yes. Yes, of course. Let me get my things. Is Gene there? He’ll want to be with his DI.”
“Your...family is already there, Mrs. Hunt. No need to worry about that.”
Margaret followed her out to the car and bundled herself inside. Miss Roy said nothing during the drive, and Margaret did not bother her with questions. She would find out the details soon enough.
As stoic as she was on the outside, her heart was breaking on the inside. Why did it have to be Sam? Hadn’t the boy been through enough already? Was life really so cruel? She stared out the window. It was no use asking such silly questions. Being a police officer was a dangerous line of work. No matter how many risks one endured through the day, there would still be more the next. Sam knew that. Gene had known that.
It wasn’t long before they were at the hospital. Margaret followed DI Roy inside to the A&E waiting area. Ruth Tyler was already there, along with Sam’s wife. The poor woman was inconsolable, and very pregnant, to boot. Ruth was trying to comfort her, but to no avail. The girl kept pulling away.
Margaret sighed. It wouldn’t do, having her in a state like this. It wasn’t good for her or the baby. Margaret took a deep breath. She would have to be the strong one today.
“Alright, alright,” she cooed walking over. “Calm down, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“You don’t know that,” she cried. “They’re still operating on the stupid twonk. Anything could...”
Margaret gathered her into her arms and softly stroked her hair, calming her just as she’d done when she was a little girl.
“I know, Gladys, but you have to be strong, love. Your Sam needs you to be strong.”
Gladys pulled back and looked her in the eye.
“Mum? Are...are you...”
“Of course it’s me, silly girl,” Margaret smiled. “Now here. Let’s sit down and take a deep breath. Maya, dear, could you get us some tea?”
“Of course, Mrs. Hunt.”
“Ruth? How are you?”
“Well as can be expected, I suppose,” Sam’s mum said, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. “After you receive that call once, you never expect it to happen again.”
“Come here, sit by me. Gladys, you on the other side.”
The three women sat down, Margaret never leaving go of her daughter’s hand.
“Now, did anyone say what happened?” She asked both women.
“Maya...Maya said he was interviewing a suspect,” Gladys informed her. “He pulled a knife. Sam didn’t see...” she lost control again and began weeping.
“Okay, okay. No need for tears, Gladys. Isn’t that right, Ruth?”
Ruth managed a weak smile.
“Gladdie, do you know how many times your father was injured?”
Gladys shook her head no.
“Oh, too many to count. Least until he made DCI and learned to handle himself better. And Ruth, Sam has already been through worse, hasn’t he?”
“Yes. Yes of course.”
“Any man who can come out of a five month coma, then be back as DCI less than a year later? Well, I wouldn’t settle for anyone less for my daughter, would I?”
She took Ruth’s hand in her other.
“Sam Tyler is a strong willed bastard. No offense, Ruth. That’s what my Gene always said. And he’ll make it through this. We just need to be strong willed bastards, too. Okay?”
“Okay,” Gladys said quietly.
Ruth squeezed her hand.
“Good. Now, where is that tea?”
*
Consciousness came slowly and though the fog of morphine dulled his senses, Sam was grimly aware of his current situation. Before he even acknowledged the hand grasping his, he cracked open his chapped lips and rasped the most important question he could think of.
“What year is it?”
“1973.”
His eyes snapped open, and through his blurred vision, Gladys came into focus.
“Not...funny,” he rasped.
“Yes it is. Besides, you deserved it. You’re not allowed to get injured, DCI Tyler. I’ve told you several times already.”
“Sorry I...disobeyed orders...Guv,” he managed a smirk, then let his eyes drop closed. He managed to stay awake and felt a hand combing through his hair.
“Your mum’s here. In the holding pen. Doc said you could only have one visitor at a time for now.”
“She okay?” He mumbled, turning his head into the touch.
“She’s upset, but alright. Seems worried that you’ll slip into a coma.”
“No reason to,” Sam said and felt himself smile.
“Your DI is here, too. She wanted me to tell you they arrested the bloke and that I’m not allowed to see him, in case I do something, er, drastic.”
“You? Never,” he sighed.
“She did say he’s receiving a warm welcome at the station, since he stabbed their star detective, and all.”
“Didn’t know...they cared.”
Consciousness was getting harder to maintain, but Sam forced his body to obey. He wasn’t scared of not waking up, certainly not. He only wanted to make sure Gladys knew he was okay. That was all.
“It was before the coma that they didn’t care. Now they love you.”
“Cheers.” He would’ve rolled his eyes if he could. “You...okay? The baby?”
The more he forced his mind awake, the more horrible thoughts kept running through it. Thoughts of Gladys struggling to control her emotions, the stress of his ordeal upsetting her and the fragile position she was in.
“We’re fine,” she rubbed his arm. “Little thing was kicking up a fuss, but Mum calmed us down.”
“Want to know...what it is, yet?”
“Nope. You know me. I love surprises.”
“No...you...don’t.” He was losing the battle now. If only he could stay awake a little longer.
“Fine. But this time I will.”
She paused a long time and Sam clearly heard his heart monitor beeping away. He had forgotten how soothing that sound could be. When she next spoke, her lips were close to his ear, whispering to him.
“Rest, Sam. We’ll be here when you wake. And you will wake. I’ll make sure of it.”
At that, Sam took the plunge into unconsciousness and allowed himself to dream. This time, they were truly only dreams.
*
She often found herself with nothing to do. Some people wouldn’t see this as a problem and Margaret didn’t mind relaxing every once in awhile. However, even though she felt as if she had nothing to do, she still knew she had something to do. She just couldn’t remember what it was.
So, she would find herself pacing or gazing out windows. Often, she didn’t know how she got there, but she didn’t let it bother her. She had always been a little forgetful. Yet, while she knew she should be doing something, she knew her house guest should be doing nothing.
“Sam Tyler! Sit down. Making me nervous with all that pacing.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Hunt.”
“Gene finds out you haven’t been resting properly, he’ll have my guts for garters, and yours, too.”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he sighed, nursing his aching side.
“Here - sit down,” she ordered him into a chair. “Now, read one of those books you brought with.”
Sam hobbled into Gene’s chair, wincing as he sat.
“I am supposed to be moving a little,” he grumbled, reaching for the book on the table beside him.
“Yes, a little. Not pacing round the house day and night like a bleeding lunatic. Goodness, how does Gene ever put up with you?”
“No idea,” he sighed, then paused as he cracked open the book. “Could we not talk about Gene right now?” He asked quietly, staring at the floor.
“Had a row, haven’t you?” She shook her head. Sam kept looking at the floor. “Alright, alright. You are the guest after all. Here - you read and I’ll knit. How does that sound?”
“Fine,” Sam forced a smile, then finally focused his attention on the book. Margaret sighed then picked up her knitting needles. Gene and Sam, they always seemed to be arguing about something. Margaret never knew what. They were different men, she could see that clear as day, but in the end, they always seemed to agree with one another.
After another row of stitches, she glanced up at Sam. His brow was furrowed as he concentrated on the book in hand. He had a pen, too, and was circling and underlining various things. Margaret couldn’t make out the title. She went back to her knitting.
“What you reading then?” She asked casually. He didn’t respond. “Sam?”
“Hm?”
“What are you reading?” She asked again.
“Oh. Guide to Practical Parenting,” he answered without looking up.
“Ah, you have that baby coming soon, don’t you?”
“Yes. Soon. Very soon,” he sighed, his worry increasing.
“You know, my mum always said children don’t come with instructions.”
“So they say.”
“Then why are you reading that?”
“They’re not instructions for children. They’re instructions for parents.” He turned the page.
“And you think that’ll help?”
She saw Sam pause in his reading.
“I don’t...I don’t know how to be a father.”
“No one does,” she laughed. His expression remained serious and he mumbled something under his breath that Margaret couldn’t catch. “Say again?”
“Sorry?” Sam asked, turning another page.
“What did you just say? I couldn’t hear you.”
“Oh. It was nothing,” he said and shrunk in the chair. Margaret sighed dramatically and set her knitting in her lap.
“Sam, you know you can talk to me, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“If you have something to get off your chest, it’ll stay between the two of us, if you want it to. You know that.” She waited patiently for Sam to speak. This trick always worked on Gene - wait quietly until the other spoke.
“You said no one knows how to be a parent,” he said softly. “But, most people have a good example. My mother is wonderful. She always made the right decisions when raising me. But my father, I never knew him. Not really. And what I did learn about him...He’s not the example I want to follow.” Sam was staring blankly at the floor again.
“And you think a book can teach you what he couldn’t?”
“I don’t know. I just want to be prepared. I don’t want to make the wrong decisions. I feel like I’ve always made the wrong decisions in my personal life.”
“DI Tyler, if you try to be the perfect parent, of course you’re going to fail,” she sighed, setting aside her knitting and walking over to his chair. “Every parent, at one time or another, makes a mistake. The trick is, one, to not make the same ones over and over, and, two, make most of them when they’ll be too young to remember.”
Sam barely smiled, but Margaret could see she was talking some sense into him.
“You must’ve been a great mum,” he said. Margaret took his hand and gave it a good squeeze.
“Well, I like to think I would’ve been, had God given me the chance. Now, what do you want to eat? Need to get a good meal in you. That doc from St. Mary’s is coming tomorrow to check on you. Can’t have him thinking we’re not taking proper care of you. I know, a nice pot roast! How does that sound? I’ll go and start it.”
She gave him a pat on the knee, then headed for the kitchen. All men were silly in the head when it came to fatherhood, Margaret knew. All of their confidence went right out the window. Women reacted the same, sometimes, but they were smart enough not to show it.
Yes, Gene had been a mess when they first brought Gladys home. Was up every hour of the night checking to make sure she was still breathing. Yes, men were quite silly when it came to babies, Margaret shook her head.
As she took a deep breath, she realized she was in the kitchen. Unable to remember the reason she had entered, she left and headed upstairs. Margaret hated it when she had nothing to do because she always felt like should be doing something. Maybe she would give Gladys’s room a good cleaning.
*
“You shouldn’t be out. You’re not fully recovered.”
“I’m the father. I’m not missing Lamaze class.”
“It’s not like you don’t know what you’re doing. It was part of your medical training. And you even delivered a baby before.”
“I didn’t deliver the baby. The woman had already given birth by the time we arrived. And that was ages ago. I was still in uniform.”
Gladys giggled.
“What’s so funny.”
“You in uniform. Little PC Tyler in his cap and cravat, helping old ladies cross the street.”
“If you’re that interested, my mum has pictures.”
“Why haven’t I seen them?”
“Because I haven’t let her show you. But, if you let me into the car, I’ll pull out the album myself.”
Gladys pondered the offer, then unlocked the car doors. Sam opened the driver’s side where Gladys was seated.
“Other side, Mister,” she scolded.
“You shouldn’t be driving.”
“I’m only seven months. And I’m not that big. And you certainly shouldn’t be driving. You’re still on pain meds.”
“I haven’t taken any this morning.”
“You’re meant to be. Did you skip your antibiotic as well?”
“I...can’t remember, actually.”
“Oh, so you’re going to get sepsis and die, are you? There are easier ways of getting out of marriage, Tyler.” She tried to close the door, but Sam held it open.
“It’s not safe for you to be driving. What if there’s an accident and the air bags go off? Or you hit your stomach on the steering wheel?”
“It’s not safe for you to drive. What if you’re the cause of the accident and you lose your badge and get locked up?”
“You really think that would happen?”
“No. Do you really think I’ll have an accident?”
“No.”
“So, what are we going to do about this, Mr. Tyler?”
“I don’t know, Mrs. Tyler,” Sam thought for a moment. “Stay in and watch series two of The Sweeney?”
Gladys smiled and held out her hand.
“Sounds like fun.”
Sam took her hand and helped her out of their car.
“Should be. I can point out all the historical inaccuracies.”
“Life of the party, you are.” They started for their building’s entrance. “Sam, are you sure it’s okay if we miss? I know how anal you are about these class things.”
Sam did not answer. Instead he wrapped his arm around her and escorted her inside.
*
She could tell something was wrong. She always had good intuition, ever since she was a little girl. Margaret paced the sitting room. Something was certainly wrong. She should call someone, but she didn’t know who. She couldn’t remember anyone’s number. She wasn’t even sure if this was London or Manchester.
She could feel the panic rising. Something was wrong, but she didn’t know what and she didn’t know how to fix it. She supposed if she waited long enough, someone would come round and explain it all to her, but she didn’t know if anyone was coming. She had tried leaving, tracking someone down for herself, but the front door was locked and she couldn’t find the keys.
Margaret paced and paced and paced. Someone had to come. Someone had to call. Someone would, wouldn’t they? Someone would let her know what was going on. They would have to. She sat on the sofa. She was upset, utterly upset, and she had no idea why.
Margaret put her head in her hands and began to cry. She wanted Gene to be here, but she knew he wouldn’t be. She was here. Lost and forgotten and upset, but she didn’t know why. So, she sat and she cried.
*
He hated this feeling. He hated being completely out of control of a situation. It was his job to always be in control. It was against his nature to act any other way.
“Sam, love, sit here. Come on. You’re not helping yourself, pacing like that.”
“I’m fine, Mum,” he snapped, hugging his arms round his chest and continuing to pace.
“Don’t think you can like to me, Sam Tyler. Now, you may be a grown man, but that doesn’t mean you can ignore your mother. Sit.”
Sam reluctantly did what he was told, though he still kept his arms wrapped protectively around his waist. He began incessantly tapping his foot.
“Sam?”
“What?”
His mum nodded to his foot.
“Sorry,” he sighed and struggled to stop.
“I rang Margaret and explained what was happening, but I’m not sure she understood.”
“One more thing I need to worry about.” He began tapping his foot again. “She was supposed to be in the care facility by the time...” Sam trailed off and shook his head. “Now I need to worry about her and Gladys and why did she have to go into labor now? She’s a months an half early. Margaret was supposed to be moved in two weeks and now she’s home alone with no one to watch her, but if I leave here, something could happen to Gladys, and I couldn’t live with myself if...” Sam cut off his own sentence.
His mum wrapped an around him.
“Oh, my beautiful boy. Must you always put the whole world on your shoulders?”
Sam kept tapping his foot.
“We’ve already had one miscarriage. The risk was always there, but I thought, this time, we’d already made it this far. Andy why can’t I be in there with her? I should be there. Instead, I’m stuck here and there’s nothing...Can’t something good happen to me? Just once. Just once in my life, can’t something go as planned without any complications?”
His mum rubbed his back, but he felt no comfort. He couldn’t feel anything at all, except anger and worry.
“Has your life really been so miserable?” She asked.
“Mum, I didn’t mean...”
“You’re a miracle, Sam. You were my miracle when you were born. You were your own miracle when you survived the accident. Now, you’ll be that baby’s miracle and it’ll be yours.”
“I can’t do this. I can’t be a father.”
“Sammy...”
“I won’t know what to do. I’ll only screw it all up. I’ll be just like Dad...”
Ruth grabbed his face in her hands and forced him to look at her.
“Sam Tyler, you listen to me. You are not your father. You are nothing like him. You never were, not even when he was around. You are smart and strong and caring and dedicated. You will be a great father to your child. I know because I wouldn’t have raised you any other way.”
“I’m scared, Mum.”
“That’s because you understand the responsibility of being a parent. That already puts you a big step ahead of your father. The baby will be fine. Gladys will be fine. Margaret will be fine. Why? Because they have my Sam looking after them and I’ve always been alright when he’s around. Now, sit still before you rip those stitches. I know we’re already in hospital, but that doesn’t mean you need to get yourself admitted. I don’t think I could take it if I saw one more hospital bracelet on your wrist.”
Sam forced his foot to slow. As he did so, a doctor entered the room and called his name. His heart leapt as he saw the smile on her face.
“Mr. Tyler, would you like to meet your son?”
*
The windows were nice, very nice, and the bed was very comfortable. The dresser she had brought form home, along with the small table. It fit the room quite nicely. It wasn’t the same as home, but it was much easier to care for and there were so many more things to keep her occupied.
She and Roberta down the hall got on quite well. Her husband had been a police officer also, and they had so many stories they could swap.
“Mrs. Hunt, you’re having some visitors today, aren’t you?” The cheerful attendant asked as he entered the room.
“Am I?” She asked, she couldn’t remember.
“Your family’s coming to see you. Should be here any minute. There anything you need?”
“No, I’m alright. Thank you.”
“I’ll bring ‘em over when they arrive, then.”
Margaret turned and faced the window. The view was lovely. It looked out onto a garden. She could see the birds come and go. Gene hated birds. He’d always had to clean their messes off his beloved cars.
“Hello?”
Margaret turned to the doorway.
“Sam! How lovely. I wasn’t expecting you today. Oh my goodness. Is that the little one? Let me see, let me see.” She hurried over as Sam carried the baby inside, his wife following close behind with the diaper bag. “Oh, Mrs. Tyler,” she rushed to the woman first and gave her a warm hug. “How are you dear? They said it was a difficult delivery. I was praying you’d be alright,” she gently stroked her hair.
“I’m doing much better,” Gladys smiled. “How are you? Do you like it here? Is there anything you need? Are they treating you alright? If they’re not, you let me know right away. I won’t put up with any nonsense from this lot.”
“Oh, it’s lovely dear. Just lovely. Don’t worry your pretty head.”
A small gurgle came from the table where Sam had set the carrier.
“Oh the baby! Let me see.”
Sam stood back and allowed her to reach in and scoop up the small child.
“My goodness. He’s so tiny. Hello precious. How are you? Oh look at you. I could eat you up, you little thing,” she cradled him gently. “I’m sorry. Sam. I can’t recall his name. I know you’ve told me.”
“It’s Nicholas,” he said, watching proudly as he slipped an arm around his wife. “Nicholas Eugene.”
“Hello handsome Nicholas,” she cooed. “You’ll be a lady killer, I can tell. Yes, all the girls will be chasing you, just like your grandfather. Oh, Genie would have loved you, little one.”
*
Sam gently rocked him as Gladys slept. It had been his turn to wake and feed the baby and Sam hadn’t minded at all. He didn’t think he would ever mind as he quietly sang his son back to sleep. He wasn’t sure why, but Nicholas loved it when he sang Bowie, preferring “Changes” to the many lullabies Sam had tried previously.
His son had been asleep for at least fifteen minutes, but Sam couldn’t put him down. Instead, he sat down on the couch, cradling the small child in his arms.
“Hello big man,” he whispered. “You’re small now, but you’ll grow up big and strong, I can tell. You’ll be strong enough to do whatever you want and be whatever you want. Except a door-to-door salesman. That didn’t work out so well for your grandfather. Maybe you’ll be a psychologist, hm? So you can figure out how your crazy dad’s brain works. Or maybe an expert in time travel, for that matter. Either way, I’ll always be there for you, the way your maternal grandfather was always there for me. Minus the verbal and physical abuse. And I’ll never call you ‘Mabel,’ though your mum might.
“What I will do is take you to every Man United match we can afford. And get you a cat, but don’t tell your mum. She’s never liked cats. And you’ll always have clothes that fit, and presents on Christmas, and I’ll be there for every birthday. And whenever you need anything, you’ll have me. That’s a promise. And while Sam Tyler has been known to make mistakes, he always keeps his promises.”
Sam leaned down and kissed his son on the forehead. He eventually gave way and returned Nicholas to his crib before crawling back to his own bed and wrapping an arm around his sleeping wife.
He was still terrified, to be sure, but each day seemed to be getting easier. He finally felt as though as he was living in the present, his eyes on the future, instead of looking back to the past. His son would be okay and, if his suspicions were correct, that little boy had one hell of a guardian angle looking out for him.
Sam drifted off to sleep and, while he knew it was only in his head, he swore he heard a voice whisper to him before he fell asleep.
“You’ll be a good father, Sam. I know you will.”