Well, Oliver had to give him points for astuteness, at the very least. “Yes Sir, I’m fine. I’ve just got a lot going on at the moment.” He sounded like a robot, even to his own ears.
The Inspector nodded, glancing up at the calendar that was tacked to the wall. It was filled with pictures of fluffy kittens and wide-eyed puppies.Each to their own,Oliver supposed. Tracing his finger over the month of May, he stopped on a little red cross. Oliver’s face flushed when he realised what the Inspector had marked. As if sensing his embarrassment, Callahan smiled and withdrew his hand.
“Come now, DC Reed. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I was simply checking if your heat cycle might have been a factor. Though I can see you aren’t due for quite some time.”
It was then he noticed that, beside his little red cross, there were a series of little purple crosses marked out every three months. That must have been for Matteus. Oliver had to give the Inspector credit, he knew his staff, and he always allowed them ample time to recover.
“As for DS White. I’m sorry you’re no longer on the same squad. From what I gather, you made quite a good team. But I will be frank with you—wecannothave a repeat of the dealership raid. It risks not only yours and DS White’s safety, but also the safety of other officers. Not to mention members of the public.”
“I understand, Sir.”
And he did. He really fucking did. Despite everything, he knew that lust and professionalism did not make for a safe combination. Except, whatever was going on between him and Lucas was stretching far beyond the fervour of lust. It was like a lead weight pressing down on his chest every time he closed his eyes. A slow, molten thing that crept through his veins and seared his skin.
The worst part was that he genuinelylikedthe alpha, and enjoyed his companydespitethe tension. But he also wanted to sever the connection with every fibre of his being, and would try to sever it if it meant Lucas could find someone capable of giving him happiness. But if their interaction in the bathroom had proven anything, it was that both their resolve was quickly dwindling.
“DC Reed?” The Inspector asked.
“S-Sorry, boss?”
“I asked if you’re still capable of speaking to little Alfie this afternoon, or whether I should ask one of the Special Branch officers to accompany DC Purslow.”
Oliver bit the inside of his cheek. Hewould notapologise for what he said in the briefing room, and it appeared the Inspectorwould not temper his expectations either. And there was no way inhellhe was going to let a Special Branch officer sit in on the interview, seeing as the majority possessed the emotional tact of a lump hammer. No, it would require a gentle hand and careful words.
“No, Sir. That won’t be necessary.”
The interview suite was,for all intents and purposes, just like any other slightly dated living room. Except it was at the back of the police station, and there were cameras in each corner of the room.
Midday came and went, and by the time he and Nancy had dusted, hoovered and plumped the cushions in the suite, it was time to meet Alfie. Prior to his arrival, they set out several toys, books, and puzzles. They’d gotten rid of their suit jackets, ditched their ties and did their absolute best to not look like police officers.
As the door slowly opened, Oliver saw a fair-haired little boy trailing behind Shirley-fucking-Spencer, the shittest social worker to ever grace the service. Alfie was straight-backed, had his chin tucked in, with his eyes pointing at the floor. He made no move towards the toys, only sat on the sofa when instructed by Shirley. But even then, his hands remained balled into tiny fists.
“He’s been like this since we got him,” Shirley said, taking a seat in an armchair opposite them.
Ignoring her, Oliver put down his notepad and sat on the floor at Alfie’s feet. “Hi,” he said, smiling as he craned his head to meet the boy’s gaze. He caught Alfie’s eye for one brief moment and had to glance away to prevent himself from grimacing at theboy’s expression. He looked blank, totally and utterly blank, as though he had withdrawn into himself. The shell of a child.
He’d seen it before, having worked with some of the most abused kids in the force. But Alfie… there was just nothing there. Oliver glanced at Nancy, who had taken a seat on the opposite sofa. She rummaged through the box of toys and pulled out some plastic tracks and cars. It was a routine they’d done a hundred times before, because what little boy could resist firing some brightly coloured cars around a track?
Alfie apparently. Because he had absolutely no reaction to what Nancy was doing. Resting an elbow on his own knee, Oliver stared up at him for a long time. Eventually, curiosity got the better of the boy and he glanced at Oliver again.
“Hi, I’m Ollie,” he said, pulling a silly face. It made Alfie’s cheek twitch with the ghost of a smile. “You know, I heard your name is Charlie. Is that right?”
The boy frowned. “No,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. Because if Oliver knew anything, it was that young kids loved correcting adults.
“It’s not?”
“Alfie.”
“Oh! Alfie, I see. Alfie sounds kinda like Charlie, right?” The boy nodded. “And both of those names kinda sound like Ollie. What do you think?” Alfie shrugged. “Hmm, Ollie and Alfie. And over here we have Nancy,” he said, pointing at the beta. Alfie frowned before looking back down at his hands.Okay then… doesn’t trust women.
Oliver looked at Nancy again, who also noticed the reaction. Jumping up, she clapped her hands and said, “Right! Well, Shirley and I are going to make a cup of tea. Would you like one, Alfie?”
No reaction.Really doesn’t trust women…Nancy pulled the social worker over to the little kitchen at the far end of the room,turning their backs on the two of them. It was only then that Alfie looked up at the toy cars.
“Hey Alfie, can I show you my cars?” Oliver said, leaning forward and resting his chin on the boy’s knee. “I have too many to play with on my own.” Alfie slowly nodded, so Oliver held out his hand. After several nervous moments, he took it. His hands were cold, a solid indicator he was anxious.
Settling themselves around the coffee table, Oliver began building up a track whilst Alfie watched. He could see the boy was interested, but was too afraid to join in. As he continued to build the track, the pieces were getting closer to the edge of the table, until he ‘accidentally,’ attached a straight bit of track that would have seen the cars falling over the edge.
“N-No,” Alfie said, blinking, as though surprised by the sound of his own voice. “N-Not like that.”
