DISCLAIMER: All characters are the property of Glenn Chandler, ITV and SMG Productions. No copyright infringement intended.
Loose Ends
by rosera
Today was the second last day of Jackie’s two weeks leave, leave she
had been forced to take as she had accumulated too much. The
personnel department had insisted she ‘use it or lose it’ and Burke had
supported them, knowing that she was driving herself to hard and needed
a break. Their last case had been tough, child abuse and murder,
and she had come close to breaking under the strain.
So she had left Glasgow, driving aimlessly up into the highlands,
stopping randomly and staying in out of the way places where no one
knew her, and no one cared that she spent hours staring off into the
distance, lost in thought and the useless mind games of ‘if
only’. Drinking heavily to forget, to help her sleep, to somehow
get through the next day and the next, all the time restless and lost
for a purpose to the days.
Finally finding herself in Ayr she had called to visit Stephen Andrews
in his retirement home. She knew he had suffered another stroke
and was deteriorating further but felt she at least owed him a visit,
if he remembered who she was. That visit had been
devastating. Stephen had remembered her but had forgotten that
Michael was dead. He spoke as if Michael was still alive, calling
him ‘young Michael’ as in the old days, reminiscing about old
cases and dragging up memories that Jackie wanted to keep buried,
memories too painful to expose to the light of day.
She hadn’t had the heart to tell him again about Michael’s untimely
death. She and Stuart had visited him, recently retired due to
ill health, just under two years ago to break the news to him then and
he had been devastated, seeming to shrink before their eyes as one more
life from his past had gone before him.
This time Jackie spent several hours with him but in the end his
endless reminiscing of times past had been too much and she had left
him with a promise to visit again, knowing she wouldn’t be able to
bring herself to come again. His parting words had almost broken
her. Stephen had asked to be remembered to Michael, saying that
he guessed Michael was too busy to call and see an old friend and that
he understood, Michael’s career was more important. After all he
had said, hadn’t Jim groomed Michael for greatness? Stephen’s
final comment became the twisted knife in the already open wound,
“He’ll make Superintendent before he’s 50, mark my words.” he had said
with a rueful shake of his head.
Jackie had stumbled blindly from the room, tears coursing down her face
and had driven like a fiend back to Glasgow, through the night and into
the next day.
Now Jackie sat in the car staring out at the gates of the Western
Necropolis. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to visit for
sometime now. But tomorrow would be two years since the awful day
that she would remember forever. The day that part of her life
and her soul had been ripped away before she had the chance to
acknowledge, to herself and to him, how much Michael really meant to
her.
Two years and she could still see that lifeless body lying in the mud
on the river flats at Langbank. The image of the still, lifeless
face so fresh in her mind that if she closed her eyes she was there
again, looking down at the face she had loved for so long. The
face of her best friend, a man she had worked side by side with for
twelve years and then, when it was too late to tell him, the man she
had realised she had really loved with all her heart and soul.
In the two years since his death somehow she had managed to get on with
life, work the balm to her tortured soul. Her marriage turning to
dust with the realisation that what she felt for Brian was shallow and
lacklustre compared to the heart-wrenching feelings of pain and loss
she felt for Michael.
Gathering up the flowers she had brought to lay on the grave she got
out of the car and slowly made her way up the hill. Taking a
short side trip she paused briefly at the grave of Jim Taggart.
Her mouth twisted at the bitter memories of the arguments between Jim
and Michael. Her face soften into a smile at the good times they
had all shared and then, tears fell at the memory of devastation and
loss on Michael’s face when she had broken the news of Jim’s unexpected
death. Thanking god that Jim Taggart had not lived to see
Michael’s equally untimely death, she lay a single rose on Jim’s grave
and then she moved on up the hill unable to put off any longer the real
purpose of her visit.
As she crested the rise she noticed a woman crouched at the graveside
and beside the woman a small child, a hand clamped fast onto the fold’s
of the woman’s coat, thumb in mouth with the solemn expression of
composure on a face too young for such maturity.
Walking slowly Jackie drew a little nearer and then hesitated, unsure
who the stranger was and unwilling to break in on their reverie.
It was the child that broke the frozen tableau, with a tug on the
woman’s coat and jerk of the head to indicate that a stranger was
coming. The woman looked up and as she turned, Jackie recognised
the long dark hair, the light grey eyes, now filled with tears.
“Heather?”
Jackie started forward but was brought up short by the brief flash of anger across Heather’s face.
“Hello Jackie.” Heather looked away, unable to maintain eye
contact. “I knew you’d come. I had hoped that it would be
tomorrow and I wouldn’t be here to……well…to be in the way.”
Jackie frowned, puzzled by Heather’s words and her reaction.
“Heather…..I…….but why would you be in the way? I’m sorry, I don’t understand?”
“No, that’s the problem you didn’t understand, not then.” Heather
gazed at Jackie her eyes taking in the lines of sorrow and
fatigue. “But I suspect you understand now Jackie, now it’s too
late?”
“Heather I don’t…..look I’m sorry, I just don’t…...” Jackie shook
her head as if to clear away the confusion. Feeling like she had
to start again she said, “How are you? I haven’t seen you since
before….”
Heather finished the sentence for her, “Before Michael was
killed? No, I left about four months after your wedding
remember? I didn’t come back for the funeral, I couldn’t face
it…..not then.”
Heather looked down at the grave, “But I had to come sometime, I
had to come and see where he….where he was. But he’s not
here is he? It’s only bones and earth. I shouldn’t have
come…..I’m sorry.”
As Heather made to walk away Jackie grabbed her arm and restrained her not really understanding the undercurrent of emotions.
The small boy tugged again on Heather’s coat, his face upturned in question, the thumb finally extracted from the mouth.
“Mummy, who lady?”
Heather knelt down beside him and hugged him tightly before turning him to face Jackie.
“Jackie…..this is my son. Say hello to Jackie.”
Jackie crouched down to the little boy’s level and put out her hand, a
hand that was gripped surprisingly hard and given a quick serious shake
accompanied by a brief nod.
“How old is he?” Jackie asked, still smiling at his solemn little face.
“He’s just turned two.” Heather watched Jackie’s face as the realisation of the child’s age struck.
“What…….what’s his name?” Jackie’s question came out on a shocked whisper.
“Michael, Michael James.” Heather watched the truth hit Jackie like a blow.
“Dear God….he’s…..”
“Yes, he’s Michael’s son and no….he never knew.” Heather had to
grab Jackie’s arm as the shock proved too much and she swayed, near to
collapsing.
“So, you finally worked it out? But it’s too late Jackie, he
never knew for certain how you felt, he only knew how he felt and how
it ruled his life in the end.”
Jackie stared at Heather, the meaning of her words not really making sense, but still able to strike pain into her heart.
“Don’t! Don’t say that……I never understood until….”
“Until he died? I guessed if there had been anything there for
him, his death would bring it home to you. Such a waste that it
was too late eh Jackie?” The bitterness of Heather’s words stung
Jackie. Pulling away she swung around and started to walk
away. But she needed to know, needed to know where this
bitterness came from. They had been friends once she thought.
“Heather, I’m sorry for whatever you think I’ve done but please!…..talk
to me, tell what happened. Please?” Unconsciously Jackie
stretched her hand out to Heather.
Heather looked at that hand and then looking up into Jackie’s eyes saw
the pain and grief there and in her heart she couldn’t inflict any more
hurt, not here, not where the reminder of all her pain, and joy, was.
Heather took her son’s hand and speaking quietly to him she told him
that she and Jackie would sit here and talk and that he could wander
around a little and play but not to wander too far. Turning to
Jackie she motioned her to sit on the grass and then lowered herself
down beside her.
Gazing off into the distance she began to speak quietly, her voice not
betraying the emotions she felt at digging up all the old pain and
anguish again.
“I think it was your wedding that made him fully realise what he truly
felt and that he’d made a mistake. At first he seemed determined
to pretend that he was happy for you and that it didn’t matter to him
that you were married. Although we kept it quiet from everyone he
seemed happy with me, I even thought that maybe your being married had
made him realise what he was missing and that maybe we would get
married. I loved him that much Jackie, I would have married him
anytime, anywhere, he had only to ask. But he never
asked.” Heather brought her gaze around to Jackie,
“Slowly he grew more distant, I saw less and less of him. He
always had some excuse not to see me, too much work, too risky, someone
might find out, not the words of a man about to propose I guess.
He became….hard, closed off, almost like he refused to feel anything
for anyone. You must’ve noticed the change in him?” At
Jackie’s nod of agreement she went on, “Finally I realised that
it was over, he just didn’t love me the way I loved him.”
Jackie looked up at this. Heather shrugged,
“Oh he loved me in his own way, but not enough to spend the rest of his
life with me, something was holding him back. That much I knew
deep down. Then, I found out I was pregnant, about two months
gone.”
Jackie reached out and took her hand, felt Heather’s grip tighten as the memories flooded back.
“I couldn’t tell him. I knew what he’d do, he’d want to get
married, to do the right thing, but there was no point, it wasn’t me he
loved. I’d watched my parents tear themselves into little pieces
all through my childhood all because they’d ‘stayed together for the
sake of the children’. I wasn’t going to put any child of mine
through that sort of marriage. And that’s how it would have ended
Jackie, where there was no real love on one side.” Heather looked
up and, meeting Jackie’s eyes finally voiced what she had kept buried
for so long. “
“It took awhile after I left before I finally realised that it was you
he loved,” Jackie’s stricken look made her go on quickly, “but he
thought it was too late, he’d missed his chance. I knew that not
even a child could or would change that…..probably make it worse,
because it wasn’t your child.” Jackie flinched as if struck a
blow, “So I left him, I left the force, left Glasgow and
went home to my mother in Oban.”
“No…” Jackie’s anguished whisper tore at Heather, “you can’t be sure
that he loved me. Please….I don’t think I could bear it if I knew
that he loved me as I love….loved him.”
“Jackie he loved you, I think he’d loved you from the first day he met
you, he just didn’t realise it, or wouldn’t admit it to himself, until
he lost you to Brian. Just as you never realised it until you
lost him…..forever. I’m sorry Jackie, I’m sorry for blaming you
because he didn’t love me as much, sorry for blaming you because little
Michael will never know his father. Can you forgive me?”
Heather caught and held Jackie’s gaze, “I’ve carried around
this anger and hate for two years but there’s no point, no point for
either of us is there……not now.” Heather held out her hand,
Jackie looked at it and instead of taking Heather’s hand gathered her
into her arms and they simply held each other in silence.
“Mummy and lady crying? Why Mummy?”
A small voice, followed by small arms, around both their shoulders
brought them back to reality. Jackie took little Michael’s hands
and searched his face for any signs of resemblance. Seeing the
telltale dark blonde hair that fell forward on his brow, the clear deep
blue eyes that faded to grey with the change of light and that dimple
in the bottom lip that curved up into a small smile.
Hugging the child briefly she looked up at Heather,
“God Heather, I can’t believe you never told him he had a son. He
would have wanted to know….but your right, he would’ve wanted to ‘do
the right thing’.” Jackie felt more tears spill out and down her
face. Her tears were for Michael never knowing that he’d fathered
a son, never knowing the joy of having a child of his own.
Heather took little Michael in her arms and hugging him, she kissed his
blonde hair and held him against her breast. Rocking him gently
in her arms she said,
“I had planned to tell him once little Michael was born. I’d even
made arrangements to bring him down to Glasgow a couple of months after
he was born. But then Stuart rang…with the news.” At Jackie’s
surprised look Heather shook her head,
“He was the only one who knew where I was and no, he didn’t know I was
pregnant, he only knew that I couldn’t stay, that I had to leave
Michael, leave Glasgow and get away. He understood.”
They sat there in silence for sometime both lost in their thoughts and
memories. Finally stirring, Heather stood little Michael up and
getting up from the grass she helped Jackie to her feet.
“We’d better go, we’ve long trip home tomorrow and I’ve still things to do before we leave.”
Heather looked at Jackie,
“And what of you since….?”
“Brian and I are divorced. I couldn’t…..well there seemed no point once I realised….”
“That you loved Michael? I’m sorry Jackie. Sorry that ……..” she left the sentence hanging.
They both avoided each other’s eyes.
“And Robbie, Stuart, how are they both? How’s you’re new boss?” For form’s sake Heather felt she had to ask.
“Robbie’s Robbie, he’ll never change. I thought once that…..but
no, I realise now nothing was what it seemed…..nothing.” Shaking
off the memories she went on, “Stuart’s fine, he’s been through
some rough times lately, got himself suspended. He says he thought of
leaving the force but he’s still hanging in there. Matthew Burke
is the new DCI, he was involved in the case when Michael was…..”
Jackie paused, still unable to say the words. Taking a deep
breath she went on, “He’s ex Special Branch so very different from
Michael, but I guess I’m used to him now but it never seems quite the
same anymore, but what else can I do?” Jackie’s question seemed
rhetorical so Heather left it unanswered.
“I’d better go. I’m glad we met Jackie, glad we talked, especially glad you know about little Michael.”
“And you Heather, apart from…” Jackie pointed at the small figure gaily
running around the graves dodging in and out in an imaginary game of
hide and seek.
“I’m married now. I met a good man, who loves me and loves
Michael even though he’s not his own son. We have a good life
together, I hope to have more children so Michael can have brothers and
sisters and not be alone.”
“I’m glad Heather, glad you have a life, glad you have little
Michael. Keep in touch eh? I’d like to know how he is,
maybe send some photos sometime?”
“I will Jackie, I promise…and when he’s old enough I’ll tell him about
his real father, tell him how much I loved him and what a good man, a
good cop he really was.”
The women embraced quickly, both close to tears again. Heather
called the child over and he solemnly shook Jackie’s hand and said
goodbye. Jackie crouched down and hugged him tightly, dropping a
light kiss on his golden hair. She waved goodbye as both Heather
and little Michael walked off down the hill.
Finally picking up the flowers she had brought for the grave she laid them gently down at the base of the headstone.
“Oh Michael, what a mess we both made of our lives. But you would
love him Michael, he’s your son and he’ll be so like you it’ll
hurt.” Gazing down at the headstone she laid one hand on his name
carved in the stone, “I love you.”
Turning, she walked slowly away, this would the last time. There
was no point anymore, as Heather had said, just bones and earth, he was
gone from here now, his ghost was gone at last, laid to rest by a small
boy with dark blonde hair and blue-grey eyes the colour of a storm
tossed ocean.
Two weeks later she was at her desk sipping her early morning coffee when Stuart laid a small parcel in front of her.
“This just came in the mail Jackie, it’s marked personal. From Oban.”
Jackie looked up at Stuart and seeing the question in his eyes she
nodded once. The light of understanding came on in his eyes and
he gave one brief nod back and moved away.
Opening the parcel revealed a small bi-fold photo set. With
slightly shaking hands she opened it and gazed at the two photos, one
obviously a studio shot of a small golden haired, blue-eyed boy with a
serious face, the errant lock of hair across the brow breaking up the
solemnity of the pose. The other photo was taken outside and
showed a small boy sitting on the grass, a small puppy clasped in his
arms and a beaming smile on his face.
Jackie felt tears spring to her eyes and surreptitiously wiped them
away. Heather had remembered her promise. Placing the
frame on her desk she simply stared at the photos, drinking in every
nuance, every line of the familiar but different face.
“He looks sort of familiar, is he you’re nephew or something?”
Robbie’s comment startled her, as he picked up the frame he went on
“So, this is the young lad that’s taken your heart eh Jackie? Bit young for you isn’t he?”
Recovering quickly she glanced up at him, took the frame back and placed it on her desk again then smiled up at him,
“No Robbie, just the son of a friend, and….he’s not for me, but he will break hearts one day, just like his father did.”
The end.