John awoke, groaned, turned over and wrapped the duvet around his body. The previous night, a distant memory. He raised his heavy eyelids halfway and attempted to remember how he arrived home but drew a blank. For him, the good news was his hangover would pass. But, as his brain tried to function, something bothered him. He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling until he heard footsteps on the stairs. He swung his legs over the side of the bed. Without warning, the bedroom door opened.

He gaped at Angela Newton. "Jesus Christ, what are you doing in my house."

"Who do you think brought you home. You were so rat arsed you couldn't walk. I slept on your settee."

He hazily remembered falling out of the cab and crawling to his front door. "I should know better at my age. Those Bacardi and red wine cocktails did for me. My head feels like Birkenhead dockers on a Friday night."

I suppose you have forgotten what you wanted to do with my body?"

He closed his eyes. "We didn't, did we?"

She laughed. "You couldn't have even if you wanted to. One second after I dumped you on the bed, you were snoring like a pig."

"I suppose you undressed me."

She laughed. "I didn't see anyone else."

His eyes focused on her standing there with her arms crossed. Her eyes twinkled with a hint of amusement. "Thanks a million. You were always one of the best officers in the station."

With half-closed eyes, he studied her with practised indifference. She was a striking woman with great breasts, not small but a good handful. "A couple of years after my wife passed, I fancied you, but I found out you're a lesbian."

A smile filled her face. "So my long-standing subterfuge worked. "I can assure you I'm all woman?"

"Most of the men in the station believe different."

"I don't give a shit. I'm not and never will be a notch on anyone's headboard. That's their standard answer when men can't get into a woman's knickers."

He struggled up onto one elbow. "Sorry. Your sexual orientation is not my business."

"I vowed I'd never get involved with a copper. One in a thousand stay faithful. I've heard them on the phone complaining to their wives they have drawn the short straw for overtime. One hour and a shower later, you see half a dozen lounge room lizards suited and booted jumping into a taxi on their way to grab a granny night. More than anything, I never wanted to stumble from one copper's bed to the next, waiting for the right one to appear."

John blinked his eyes. "Such is life."

"Anyway, Cup of coffee or breakfast?"

"Give me ten minutes, and I'll do breakfast."

"I assume you are not on duty today."

"I have two days off."

He looked her in the eyes as he said, "Time you left, I need to get dressed. A naked middle-aged man is not a pretty sight first thing in the morning."

"From what I saw last night, you've kept yourself trim. You look younger than you are, stocky but not fat, and have no beer belly. Okay, I'll put the kettle on.

***

John fell out of bed looked at her as he pulled himself upright and staggered to the bathroom. The face in the mirror managed a smile. Black circles enclosed his eyes, and bruises covered his body. Washed dressed, he descended the stairs and entered the kitchen.

With her long black hair shining, Angela, wearing a cream Aran style jumper and skin-tight dark blue jeans, sat at the table, sipping a cup of steaming coffee.

He looked in the fridge. "Don't suppose you fancy a beer. You do things differently when you live on your own. My culinary skills are rubbish, and the breakfast of the day is toast and cornflakes."

"She grinned. "You know how to impress. Toast, please."

"I have butter, marmalade and fresh orange juice. How many slices?"

"Two, please."

With breakfast over, they chatted.

Feeling almost human, he asked. "What are you going to do now?"

"I presume you know I make model trains."

She nodded.

"I never had much time before, but now I can pursue my hobby and make enough to have a decent life with my pension. In my spare time, I intend to watch the Little Brothers."

Although she knew the answer, she asked, "Why?"

He was careful with his words. Although he knew Angela, she was almost a stranger. "The law can do nothing without evidence. But it's common knowledge they are into drugs, prostitution and protection. They indirectly killed Elsie, my sister, and I intend to screw up their lives any way I can."

"I heard you were out to get them."

"It's best you're not involved. But, least said, the better."

She went quiet. "I can help."

He faced her and saw confusion in her eyes.

"You don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself."

She stood and removed her coat from the back of the chair. "Alright, John, I'll let you return to normal in peace. I'll ring you if anything on the Little brothers crops up." She kissed him on the cheek and walked to the door.

"Angela."

With her eyes shining, she turned.

"Thanks."

She realised she rather liked him as the door closed behind her.