Page 3 of The Other Side

Neither boy knew that it wouldn’t be long before they were separated by worlds and secrets, by cruel choices and circumstances neither could yet comprehend. They didn’t know how violently their lives were about to change.

Chapter One

Clover House had been Drum’s ‘home’ for three months. Three months of physical rehabilitation, aka torture. Mental health support, aka agony. Along with overthinking all that had happened, aka being an idiot.

He’d finally been declared fit for work and it was time to leave. He’d hated the idea of coming here, now the thought of leaving unsettled him. He twisted the silver bracelet around his wrist, rubbing his thumb over the stone. Better than the elastic band therapy suggested. Usually, touching his bracelet was enough to steady him. Not this time. In the next few minutes, he was going to find out if his future still lay in the police force. But maybe more importantly, was that the future he wanted?

If his bracelet wasn’t going to work, maybe his coin trick would. He flipped a ten pence piece across the back of his knuckles so that it looked as if it was walking across his hand, then brought it across his palm and over the top again, going faster and faster. He couldn’t remember when he’d learned how to do this. But then he couldn’t remember where he’d got the bracelet either.

Stop messing around or you’ll be late!

One final flick and the coin arced into the air and never came down. Well, that wasn’t true, of course. Coins didn’t vanish. Usually. He didn’t know why many of the ones he flipped did. After a quick glance beneath the chair, under the bed and around his feet, it was nowhere. Great. He didn’t have time to hunt for ten pence.

He left his room and headed to hear what his future held. Fit for duty didn’t mean he had to stay a policeman. He could walk away. Find a less stressful job. Except he had no idea what else he could do. Whatever happened next, it wouldn’t be undercover work.

As if I’d want to lose another two years of my life. He wouldn’t have been capable of it anyway. But he didn’t want to be stuck in a safe house until the trial, partly because no date had yet been set. They said they’d find him something suitable to do and Drum was curious about what that suitable would be. So at ten precisely, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door of the room he’d been told to come to.

“Enter!”

Drum was surprised to see Superintendent Fischer. What significance did it have that someone so senior had made the trip from London to Yorkshire?

“Ah, Drummond,” Fischer said. “Take a seat.”

Drum settled on the chair. Well, more perched on the edge.

“How are you?” Fischer asked.

“Good, sir.”

“Glad to hear it. You’re all signed off, ready to go back to work. The doctors say you’ve made excellent progress.”

After they’d put him back together again. A real-life Humpty Dumpty. Except he wasn’t as put together as they might think. Physically yes, mentally no.

“But…” Fischer said.

And here it came. Drum didn’t move, didn’t even blink. Maybe he hadn’t fooled them after all.

“Letting you return to police work would be irresponsible. Equally, we can’t leave you sitting in a safe house indefinitely. We’ve found an alternative.”

Drum found himself pulling at his bracelet and forced himself to stop.

“It wouldn’t be fair to put you straight back into the field. We’ve come up with a compromise. You’ll retain your rank and pay as a Detective Constable. But for now, you’ll be serving as a PCSO, a Police Community Support Officer.”

Drum’s heart sank. What the hell! And I know what PCSO fucking stands for. He swallowed hard.

Fischer smiled at him, so he’d clearly not clocked the annoyance on Drum’s face. Good.

“They’re uniformed, non-warranted members of police staff who work alongside regular police officers to patrol neighbourhoods, deter crime, and engage with the public.”

And I know what they fucking do! Fischer was quoting from the handbook. Jesus Christ! It was all Drum could do not to roll his eyes. So they were demoting him? After all he’d gone through? All he’d done? All he’d lost?

“We’ve allocated you to a rural area.”

“So you do want me straight back into the field, sir?” How he managed to make a joke he did not know. Part of him wanted to tell Fischer to go fuck himself with a cactus.

Fischer laughed. Then he sighed. “I know it feels like a demotion but it’s not. You’ll have the power of a DC, the pay of a DC and a way back into the force as a DC…when the time is right.”

Drum stayed silent. Did Fischer expect thanks? Probably. Wasn’t going to happen.