Return of the Sun - 25. Chapter 25

Luke was on patrol, the Vauxhall handling responsively as he swept through the Diplocks Way industrial park, its driver holding the wheel tightly trying to focus on his job and not on the argument that had sent him storming from the house that morning. He slowed the car a little and stared down the gap between two warehouses, trying to find anything suspicious, relieved to find nothing and sweeping the car onwards.

He had been asleep when his mother had come home the day before; he had the morning shift requiring him to be up early to get a start on his patrol before he set up a speed trap at the Hempstead Lane intersection. But his mother had been waiting for him when he had gotten up at five in the morning.

She had ambushed him while he was tying his tie, confronting him about Scott Walker. She sat in her chair with a furious look on her face, blocking his way out the back door, claiming it had been Dickie who had told her. She made her accusations as he pulled on his boots, trying to think of what to say. But his mind was fragmented; fear, anger, doubt all assailed him at the same time. But rather than meet her rage, he had simply walked around her and out of the house.

Now, driving around Hailsham at an ungodly hour of the morning he had no choice but to think. It was a royal mess, and he rubbed his eyes trying to fight back the tears of frustration that threatened him; he didn't have time for them right then. He was on duty; he needed to stay focused and not to think too much on what was to come.

He swallowed, lowering his foot on the accelerator as the police car roared to life, the turbocharger under the hood turning it from a small family car into an effective tool of law enforcement. He needed one of those, something that would turn this mess of conflicting emotions into a policeman.

He loved his work; he'd only been doing it a year. He'd survived his cadet training, and then his puppy walking with Sergeant Taylor. He'd volunteered for the Town Farm beat, knowing full well how rough it was. That had earned him the respect of his fellow officers, and now there he was operating a mobile unit.

Normally he would have a partner, a fellow officer riding along with him, but Hailsham was a small town and the force was undermanned despite its best recruitment efforts. That left him alone, which that morning he didn't particularly mind.

Sometime overnight it had rained, and the morning was damp with a light ground fog that obscured very little, it just made the world seem claustrophobic. The A22 was slick and treacherous when he turned onto it, and he slowed down a little as he found the spot and pulled the car around to sit, directing the radar gun up towards the London approach.

It wasn't as if he expected to catch anything, but there were always a few reckless motorists. It was just enough that the police showed a presence out on the roads at that time in the morning.

He picked up his thermos of tea and unscrewed the lid, pouring himself a cup as he sat and stared at the drizzle that was making an already grey day miserable. Pretty soon the road would be busy as commuters drove towards the M25 and work. Then he would be busy with the inevitable minor collision calls and road-rage incidents. He hated morning motorists; they were always in such a hurry, not realizing that everyone else was in exactly the same boat as they were.

He sipped the tea, watching a couple of cars shoot past, slowing on instinct when they saw the distinctive blue-and-yellow-checked Astra with its bank of blue lights sitting on top. They hadn't been speeding, but it was habitual: if you saw a police car on the side of the road you slowed down.

The tea was strong, too long in the pot by its taste, but it was better than instant coffee that always tasted foul when left in a thermos. Luke finished the cup and screwed it back together, leaving it on the passenger seat beside him. Scrubbing a hand down his face he regretted the fact that he hadn't confronted his mother. But what could he possibly say?

"Yes Mum, I'm queer." He closed his eyes and trembled a little at that thought; what was he doing? Was he really so selfish as to not consider how much it would hurt her? She was so set in her beliefs; her faith was something that had allowed her to survive life after her accident and go on to raise four boys. And in his selfishness, he had spat on those beliefs.

He should have stopped it before it began. He had been so good at keeping people away, not having to deal with his own emotions, his own wants and needs. He went to work, he came home. When he had to socialize, he kept quiet and stayed away from the crowd. But Scott hadn't taken no for an answer, how could Luke stop someone who never seemed to take no for an answer? No, there was no way he could blame Scott for this.

It wasn't as if Scott had made him gay, waving a wand and making him fall in love with him. It had always been there, as much as Luke didn't want to admit it...

The car rocketed through his speed trap doing nearly a hundred miles an hour, a small Peugeot that weaved dangerously as it sped onwards. Luke put his own thoughts behind him as he turned on the lights and siren, starting the car and accelerating back onto the motorway, the police car easily closing the distance with the other car.

Luke clicked his radio and radioed in, "Dispatch, this is car four, in pursuit of a grey Peugeot 205 doing a hundred, licence plate is Delta Six Five Tree," he squinted through the light fog, "Kilo Echo Alpha, turn."

"Car four, dispatch, car was reported stolen last night, proceed with caution. I am alerting other units to close on your position. Turn."

"Tango, turn and off." Luke replied, lowering his foot on the accelerator as he heard the other morning units responding to the dispatch call. At the rate the stolen car was travelling he was probably looking to lose his pursuer in Polegate, a village just south of Hailsham. And Luke knew the Eastbourne police would be waiting there for him, he wouldn't get far.

The Peugeot suddenly cut left, entering South Road, tires squealing as its hubcaps popped off, bouncing in along the street. Cursing himself for not seeing the move coming and knowing that an experienced police officer wouldn't have made that mistake, Luke braked and turned after him. They were now heading into the heart of Halisham and he made a frantic call to alert the other units as he kept up with the other car.

They were coming up on a roundabout intersection about halfway along the road, and the Peugeot ran right over the white painted circle, jumping the small hump and crashing back to the road as it kept going. Luke tapped the wheel, the Astra expertly handling the curve as it navigated the roundabout to keep up the pursuit.

There was another unit trying to head the car off at the George Street bridge, but with the way the old railway bridge was set up, anyone coming up the road could see approaching traffic. The Peugoet shrieked as it collided with a bollard, tearing the plastic casing clean off of its bolted mounts and sending it flying; amazingly its driver kept control as he took off down Western Road, avoiding the other police car.

Luke followed it, his own car swinging wide to avoid the shattered bollard as the other unit swept up behind him; but the reckless Peugeot driver was running out of places to go as they passed the library and the rec coming up on the Summerheath Road intersection. The Peugeot tried to jink again, to turn up Summerheath, but a small Metro had just rounded the same corner and the collision had been spectacular.

Luke desperately spun the wheel of his car to avoid hitting the wreckage, the Astra jumping the curb and grinding into the metal railings of the rec's fence. The other police car was not so lucky as it ran straight into the back of the Peugeot driving it further into the Metro.

* * *

"He's a bit shaken up," Sergeant Taylor was saying to another constable, looking over to where Luke sat, head in his hands refusing to look at the crash. The ambulance was just pulling up to rush the driver of the Peugeot to hospital. He was the lucky one; the poor woman in the Metro hadn't been as fortunate.

The aging police sergeant rubbed his beard as he walked around to where the other officer involved in the collision was being treated for a cut to his temple. Surveying the mess in front of him, he tried to figure out exactly what had gone wrong. There were other officers coming on duty and reporting directly to the accident scene, some directing traffic around the incident as others took measurements.

Taylor sighed again rubbing his face against the drizzle, moving his hand up to wipe his eyes. There would be an inquest for this, though no one was at fault, the driver would be charged with manslaughter, reckless driving on top of his auto theft charges, but that didn't change the fact that Taylor had one officer injured and another slipping into shock.

It was a mess, and he turned back to look at Luke, cursing when he saw the empty police car, door still open where Luke had been sitting. He glared at the constable who was supposed to be watching him who had turned his back on his charge as he helped the stretcher through.

Taylor swore loudly and gestured to the car, "Where'd he go, Sam?"

PC Sam Reynolds looked surprised as he glanced back at the empty car, and he swore himself, "I don't know Sarge, he was right there..."

Taylor rubbed his head, "This is all I need." He lifted his two-way and called in to dispatch, "Bob, this is Taylor we have a walker, alert all units to find PC Allston and bring him back to the station."

Taylor rested his arms on the door of car four, scanning the rec; he couldn't have gone far, and in his current condition he wouldn't be going fast. Taylor had suspected something would happen, that was why Sam was supposed to watch the boy. Witnessing an accident like this one had a way of making a person question his abilities to do his job. And with Luke still in his first year... if they didn't get him back quickly they could lose him.

So many new officers left in their first year on the job, discovering they couldn't handle the weight of responsibility, or, in cases such as this, their inability to do anything to stop something terrible from happening. Luke Allston was a good officer, but he didn't have the experience yet to deal with the shock of watching someone die in front of his eyes.

* * *

It was raining now, fat steady droplets falling down upon him, running in rivulets down from his hair; he didn't notice. He'd left the hat sitting on the car's seat and his yellow jacket was hanging open, the rain soon soaking him to the skin.

It didn't matter, he let the water run down his face as he put one foot in front of the other. He didn't know where he was going, or how he would get there, it didn't matter.

A woman was ushering her kids to school, looking up at him in surprise as he stared at her. She protectively put a hand on her eight-year-old's shoulder and pushed him onwards. The look of anguish on his face enough to send her running. He turned to follow her passage with his eyes; his mother had dressed him up and walked him to school like that when he was that age.

That was long ago, it had been a different world. His father hadn't left, his mother could still walk. Everything had been happier, except for him. He'd been as miserable then as he was now. The pain of watching his father slowly slip into the drunken mess that had walked out on them when his mother's accident had left her wheelchair-bound had robbed him of his happiness. And now, when he had finally found something that made him happy once more...

There was a peal of thunder off in the distance, and he was walking again, staring stock ahead of himself. He was locked into his own mind, trying to deal with issues he should never have to deal with.

He thought he had been a good policeman; he worked hard, but then if he was a good officer why was a woman...? He swallowed back the thought; he'd failed her just like he let everyone else down. He had no business being in a uniform, he just wasn't up to the job. If he had been he would have stopped that car.

The rain fell more steadily, running down his neck as he walked through the alley that connected the Diplocks housing estate to the industrial park. He had no direction, he had no goal. That was his life though, he had nothing but his job. He was nothing more than his uniform.

His mother had told him, before he had joined. She had warned him that he wasn't up to it, that he wasn't responsible enough to protect other people. He wasn't Dickie; he wasn't the paragon of virtue, the white knight that everyone relied on. The one who had stepped into his father's shoes when his mother needed him the most. No, he was the problem child, the one that always sowed misery wherever he went.

He'd seen that in her eyes that morning, her cold accusations when she had tried to demand an answer. Dickie had probably taken malicious delight in telling her that, driving yet another wedge between them. As if the fact that he took after his father wasn't enough. She had an outlet there for the anger and resentment she should have thrown at her husband but couldn't. It wasn't fair, but when was life ever fair? All Luke could do was try to be the best he could.

And he'd failed, and a woman was now...

He swallowed back the tears, realizing he'd been crying for a while. He couldn't help it, he was oblivious to the world around him as he crossed the street, a van's brakes squealing as it nearly ran him down. The van driver called out the window for him to watch where he was going. The driver, surprised when he didn't get a response, watched the stunned police officer trip on the curb, get back up and stumble onwards.

The thunder rolled again, and the rain kept falling.

Inside Luke's own private world he was wrestling with his own demons. He couldn't help thinking of Scott, that young man who didn't seem to care how much of an asshole Luke was to him; who gave as good as he got, and still came back for more. That stubborn man who wanted into the secret world Luke had created for himself, and wouldn't take no for an answer.

Luke loved him; there was no other explanation for his feelings. He'd changed his life for Scott, for good or for bad, whether Luke wanted the change or not. His life was now no longer what it had been; it was all different now. He couldn't even begin to grasp what that meant for him, he was no longer able to just deny who he was.

Luke realized he had always been gay... again the admission rocked him. Admitting it to himself was harder than that first kiss, he'd always shoved the thoughts away. Buried them down deep with all his other feelings, just existing, or rather subsisting on work. But Scott had seen through it, how or even why didn't matter to Luke. The fact that someone had actually wanted to know him for him...

But he was failing Scott as well, trying to hide behind his own fears and doubts. Insecurities about his worth. The same ones that now had him crossing the Holt and walking up Meadow Road. He saw where his feet were taking him; on instinct he was walking to the one place where he wasn't judged, to the one person who brought some level of happiness to his world.

Scott was just coming out of his house, wearing the god-awful American jacket that was completely useless in the rain, fishing out his keys and walking to the garden gate. He, at first, looked surprised to see Luke walking towards him, but one look and his face changed and he had Luke in his arms.

"What's wrong?" he asked almost in panic.

Luke's face screwed up as he buried his eyes into the nape of Scott's neck and began to bawl like a baby.