NOR - Charlie Adams

[Laraqua]

The office is crowded with filing cabinets, shelving mounted high with haphazardly placed folders and thick blue Department Policy binders. The view outside is partially obscured by flimsy venetian blinds but mostly obscured by the piles and piles of paperwork that sits atop and to either side of the printer, on a cabinet before the window. The table itself is a picture of immaculate cleanliness - a nod of respect to one of Charlie's more obnoxious superiors who only backed off on the messiness of the room once the tidiness of the desk was established.

The computer on the table is powerful and linked to many of the department's other computers. It hums loudly on the table, vying with the ceiling fan for attention, its components inadequately cooled despite repeated protests and requests for an upgrade.

The telephone rings. Malcone, no doubt, hunting for another angle. That simpering beaurocrat could be safely handled with boxing gloves and nothing else.

"Look, if that's you Malcone, I'm warning you, stop calling!" Charlie complains, without hearing who the other person was.

"No, Charlie, it's me." A small voice, female, familiar.

"Me? Who's me?" On edge now.

"Jill."

"Is this a joke?"

"No, it's me, it's really me. I don't know what happened but I'm here ..." Her voice trailed off.

"You at the hospital?" Charlie asks excitedly. "Why'nt the nurses call me that you woke up? I'm coming right over. Look, you at the hospital. For God's sake, it's been three years!"

"Yeah, I am. I ... can't stand here anymore, I'm too tired. So I'm going to sit down. In the waiting room. I'll wait for you there."

"Yes, yes, sit down. I love you," Charlie says with feeling.

[SuAside]

Charlie stares at his cellphone for a few moments after hanging up. Was this real? He got up, reached for his coat and was ready to race out the office, but then froze. He walked back to his desk and retrieved his pistol. Company policy now, for three years... To be armed at all times, for all personnel related with the investigation of 'the incident'. Making it much more complicated to cover up your double life, especially if your wife happens to come out of her coma.

Charlie raced to his car and exited the guarded underground parking of Vauxhall Cross. Traffic was impossible to bear... So slow... Yet, he made a stop at the florist and bought a boquet of flowers, as he did every day as he drove to the hospital.