Too Late, He Said, Too Late
by Michele Helene
“Where’s Inspector Harvey ?” Officer Garland asked the young PC at the front door who replied with a bored shrug of the shoulders then added: “Kitchen; maybe.” Garland followed the sounds of clinks and clatters and found Harvey with his shirt sleeves rolled up and his hands plunged in a sink full of suds.
“No family then.” Harvey stated.
“No. How do you know?” Garland smiled. “Intuition I suppose?”
Harvey looked back and smiled sadly at the younger officer. “The curtain had fallen down.” He turned back to the sink a sudden lump in his throat preventing him from carrying on. She had had no one to call for help. She had lain in her bathroom for weeks before the neighbours had finally noticed they hadn’t seen her for a while.
“Sad.” Garland sighed patting Harvey on the shoulder. “I see you put the curtain back up.”
Later Harvey surprised his boys by picking them up after school, telling his wife to go shopping and treat herself and even though he’d seen his mother two days before, he took the boys to buy Chinese take away and they all ate it round at Nanna’s.
“What came over you tonight?” Harvey’s wife asked as she bustled around the room putting away her purchases. Harvey shrugged. His wife turned round and pulled the well worn Adoption Services envelope from his hand. “Are you going to call your birth mother?” She asked.
“Nah,” Harvey shook his head. “No point now love.”