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about her having a hangover, though. She had a massive one. But in her defence, she’d a genuine reason for going out last night and getting totally wasted.

‘You’d better be. Right, the rest of you continue with your duties and keep in touch.’ He turned and walked out of the room in the direction of his office.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ Twiggy said, turning to her, shaking his head.

They’d been friends ever since she’d joined CID after her apprenticeship as a police constable in Oadby, near Leicester. He was in his late forties and had been there forever. He’d taken her under his wing and showed her the ropes. He was a good mate.

‘Nothing. I just think it’s unfair being left here on my own for another day. You could’ve stuck up for me and suggested I went out with you.’

‘Why would I do that? Look at the state of you. Do you think Sarge is the only one to notice? Why were you out drinking on a Tuesday night when you’d got work the next day? What the hell was going on that head of yours?’ He folded his arms over his well-rounded belly.

‘It’s complicated.’

‘It’s always complicated with you.’ He gave an exasperated sigh.

‘Look, I’m good at my job and I help solve crimes, don’t I?’

‘Yes. But you also crash police cars and get up the sarge’s nose. You’ve got a lot to learn if you want to make something of yourself in CID. Having a natural instinct will only get you so far.’

‘It’s not like I turn up with a hangover on a regular basis. It was a one-off, that’s all. That’s the trouble with you being old and married. You’ve forgotten what it’s like to go out and have fun.’

Except that wasn’t the reason why she’d been drinking. Last night, she’d spoken to her parents about searching for her birth mother. It had been on her mind for a long time, but she was worried over how to broach the subject. Rightly so because when she mentioned it to her mum and dad, they took it the wrong way. It wasn’t what they said, but the hurt in their eyes was evidence enough of how upset they were.

She’d hated herself for hurting them, so instead of staying in and talking it through, she’d gone out for a drink. A group of her friends were in the pub, and one drink led to another. It wasn’t helped by seeing her ex-girlfriend, Shelley, out with her latest who was tall, blonde, elegant, and nothing like Birdie.

Maybe she’d talk to her parents this evening and explain that searching for her birth mother was nothing to do with them. She’d never told them, but growing up she’d always felt like there was something missing. There was a burning need inside her to find out where she’d come from. It wasn’t going to change how she felt about her mum and dad. She’d always love them. They were the best parents in the world and had always supported her.

Finding her birth mother was just something she had to do. She hadn’t told anyone else. Not Twiggy, or her friends. She was going to do it alone, but not behind her parents’ backs. She’d already started making enquiries about how she should go about it.

Her parents had adopted her at six months, after being told they were unable to have children. Except then her mum became pregnant. Twice. Birdie now had two younger brothers. They’d never treated her any differently from the boys. They were one big happy family. Until you looked at them. She was the only one who was short with a mass of red curls, green eyes, and pale freckled skin which turned pink as soon as the sun even dared to show its face. The rest of the family were tall, had dark hair, dark eyes and skin which tanned easily.

‘You can’t do both,’ Twiggy said, interrupting her thoughts. ‘I’m not that ancient. I do remember what being single is like. If I was you, I’d get on with my work and show more commitment by being here on time, or even early, and staying late. Then the sarge might let you out with the rest of us.’

‘Has he said anything to you?’

‘Not in so many words. But if you carry on like this, you’ll be stuck on desk duty forever, even if you are a great detective.’

‘We could do with a juicy murder to work on. Sarge would let me out then.’

‘I’d rather not, thanks, as it would play havoc with my home life. When we get big cases regular hours go out the window.’

‘Think of all the overtime you could earn though, enough to pay for your next holiday abroad.’

‘True. But if you’re looking for more action then apply to a larger force. What about Lenchester? It’s like the murder capital of the world over there. Certainly enough to keep you occupied.’

‘How can I move somewhere else? It’s cricket season and we’re going to win the league this year. There aren’t many of us left-handed bowlers around and it makes a big difference, believe me.’

Plus her attention was now focused on finding her birth mother.

‘I’m sure Lenchester has a team.’

‘I couldn’t leave you, you’d miss me too much.’

‘You think about it. In the meantime, have fun answering the phones and dealing with irate members of the public who’ve had their washing pinched off the line, or distraught grannies whose cats are stuck up a tree.’ He grinned, grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and headed to the door.

‘Piss off and leave me alone.’ She threw a pen which hit him on the back of his head as he left the room. ‘Come on,’ she said, glancing upwards. ‘Bring me something big so I can show Sarge what I’m made of.’

Chapter 5

5 May

Following a leisurely walk through the town, stopping at a café on High Street for a late breakfast of bacon and eggs,

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