4- Jem

Jem:

I opened my eyes, I could see Q asleep on the armchair next to me and a police officer outside my door. I sighed, wishing I had called the police before I left. I had no alibi, nor had I any reason not to. They usual go for the ex-boyfriend first, but a drunk one? Of course they will go straight to them. But I had no reason to kill Amy, she may have broken my heart, but that was years and years ago. We sorted it out and both came to the same conclusion we were better of as friends then lovers. She was my best friend, a part from Q obviously, like I said, I had no reason to kill her. But all the evidence pointed to me, I had her blood on my clothes, my gun was sitting in her house and I was drunk all that night.
     I wasn’t sure if they had found her body yet, all I knew was they were doing tests on the blood. Q stirred and I turned to him.
     “Can you get me a newspaper and ask for a T.V in here?” I asked straight away.
     He sat up and rubbed his eyes, it was hard to picture Q in my place, but if he had stayed that way he was, he would be in here, not me.
     “Why?” I shrugged and he frowned.
     “You said you trusted me, please can you just do this for me?” After a few moments, he nodded and got up, leaving me alone in the big white room.
     I saw him nod to the officer, their eyes never meeting the others. He went straight over to Doc. Shaun. I couldn’t hear what he said, but Shaun just nodded and pointed to a Chinese nurse that was approaching them. He said something to her and Q nodded. He came back and poked his head through the door.
     “Nurse Ling will bring it in a few. I’m off to go get your newspaper, want anything else?” I shook my head.
     “Oh and I forgot, the police officer wants to have a quick chat with you.” He gave me this look that read don’t screw it up all over it.
     “Okay.” Is all I said, he smiled and left.
     A few moments later, the police officer entered. He had blond hair that was scruffy and his face was young, possibly around his twenty’s. His eyes were a bright blue that put you off looking at them and although he wasn’t old, his skin looked as if it was being stretched over his bones. He may have not been the most handsome man on the planet, but he certainly wasn’t the ugliest. He suddenly went to sit down.
     “I’d rather you stand,” I quickly blurted out.
     He looked up at me, but nodded, before standing up. He pulled out a notebook and a pen. His eyes went to mine. 
     “Before we start this, I just want to ask why you didn’t want me to sit down?” His voice was informal and I knew in that moment, he was asking as a human being, not as an officer.
     “Police are police,”
     “What does that mean?” he asked.
     “When I was eighteen I got beaten up by some men, I reported it, and they just told me to leave. I had to spend a forty-seven hours in a hospital, my mother had to pay so much money in medical bills and I had to have counselling. Also, after that, I was never the same. There’s another reason.”
     “What is that then?” 
     I smiled. “Do I have to answer that?”
     He shook his head.
     “Then I won’t. Anyway, I am who I am because of your people. Officers are the reason I’m so messed up. So does that answer your question or shall I make it more basic for you?”
     He just smiled and shook his head. “No, I understand perfectly well. Anyway, back to business. What happened last night?”
     The question was blunt and straight to the point. The answer was so simple, but so hard to come to terms with.
     “I got drunk,” is all I managed to say, before Nurse Ling came in, pushing an old TV with her. She sorted it out and left.
     “What’s this for?” he asked, knocking on the screen.
     “I’m sorry; I didn’t quite catch your name, Officer?”
     “Craig,”
     “Well Officer Craig, haven’t you ever heard of a TV? It keeps you entertained when you’re bored.” I smiled at him and I could tell his temper was rising.
     “Is that the reason you want it in here?” he asked.
     “Yes, why else would I want one?” I knew what the answer was and maybe he wouldn’t say it, but I knew the thought on his mind; maybe I wanted it in here to see if a body has been found. That was the real reason. 
     “I was just asking. Now carry on, you got drunk, you said?” I nodded and he wrote something down.
     “Yes. I called Q-”
     “Q?” He asked looking up.
     “Quentin. Anyway, I called him up and we had a talk-”
     “A talk about what?” his eyes never left the paper.
     “Can you please let me finish my talk before you rudely butt in. I only answer one question at a time, and you asked me what happened last night. So I am answering that, slow and steady. Now, can I carry on?” Craig nodded. “Thank you. Anyway, as I was saying, I called him up and we had a talk. A few moments later we hang up, well to be more specific I hang up on him. Once off the phone I got a new vodka bottle and well, I cried. I had a lot to be sad about, my brother being an arse was the main reason. I wanted to talk to someone, Q was out of the question-”
     “Please use names, not nicknames.” He said, not looking at me.
     “Q is not a nickname it’s a shortened name. A nickname is a usually familiar or humorous but sometimes pointed or cruel name given to a person or place. Can I continue?”
     He nodded. “Good, anyway so I went to see Amy. She lives about two minutes away from my house.” I wanted to continue, but I knew they’d think I killed her. But I had to say something. “Anyway, I walked to her house and saw the door was wide open. I went in and saw the lounge light was on, as well as the TV. I walked in further and that’s when I saw her.  She was lying on the floor, a bullet through her heart and blood spilling from her wound. I knew she was dead because her eyes just stared into nothing. I run to her and held her in my arms, even though we broke up, she was still a good friend.”
     “Why didn’t you call the emergency service?” I smiled. 
     “Like I said before, police are police. If I called you up and reported it, you’d probably think I am drunk calling you and hang up.”
     “We take death reports very seriously.”
     I laughed. “Really? So when I called up, reported finding my mother’s body in our old barn and the police told me to not drunk call them, that was taken seriously?” There was no reply. “I thought so.”
     “I’m very sorry about how they handled that, but I assure you, we are better now at handling calls.”
     “You’re better now? This happened not even a year ago. Now tell me you have sorted that problem out!”
     He didn’t reply and I just looked at him. “This is why I hate the police so much. You pretend to be better than everyone else, when you’re not. I’ve gone through a lot because of officer’s ignorance.”
     “Is your mother’s death why you drink?” I shook my head.
     “No. Police are.”
     He looked into my eyes, before nodding and slipping his notebook away. “I think we’re done here.”
     I nodded. “Yes, I think we are.” Quentin entered, an apple in his hand, before chucking the newspaper in my lap and taking a seat.
     “Goodbye Officer.” He nodded and left.
     Q turned to me. “Please don’t tell me you were an arse to him, he was just asking some questions.”
     I grabbed the paper and opened it. “I’m always an arse.”