Dead Tomorrow

can’t. Tomorrow’s good.’
    ‘Listen, mate, what is it?’
    The line went dead.
    Grace tried to phone his friend back, but got straightthrough to voicemail. He tried his own home number, in case he was there, but that went to the answering machine after eight rings. He jammed his phone into his trouser pocket, then knelt down.
    For several minutes Cleo continued playing with Humphrey, again barely acknowledging his existence. Then, after a while, tiring of the game, she let go of the sock. Humphrey dragged it over to the beanbag that was his bed and continued to wrestle with it, snarling and yapping, as if he was fighting a dead rat.
    ‘Want to eat something?’ Cleo asked. ‘I made one of your favourite meals. Just in case you deigned to turn up.’
    She had chosen almost exactly the same words as Sandy. Sandy used to get angry at the hours he worked, and especially on the occasions when he was called out in the middle of a meal with her.
    ‘Hey!’ he said. ‘What do you mean by that? In case I deigned to turn up! ’
    ‘You’re the boss man,’ Cleo said. ‘You could be home on time if you really wanted to, couldn’t you?’
    ‘You know I can’t. Come on, let’s not have an argument about it. I’ve got three young murdered teenagers and a lot of people wanting answers. You’ve seen the kids–I want to find out who did this, and fast, before it happens again. And I have a ton of people on my back wanting answers before Christmas. Me included. I have to give it all I’ve got.’
    ‘I get people brought into the mortuary every day, and I give them and their relatives all I’ve got. But I manage to keep a separate compartment for my life. You don’t do that, Roy. Your work is your life.’
    Feeling thathe was pedalling in a vast, dark void, Grace said, ‘When you’re on call, you have to go out–sometimes 24/7–don’t you?’
    ‘That’s different.’ She shrugged and gave him an odd stare.
    Grace felt a sudden stab of panic. He took a long sip on his drink, but the alcohol had stopped working. For the first time since they had started dating, she seemed a stranger, and he was scared that he might be losing her.
    ‘It’s always going to be like this, isn’t it, Roy?’
    ‘Like what?’
    ‘Hanging around, waiting for you. You’re in love with your work.’
    ‘I’m in love with you,’ he said.
    ‘I’m in love with you too. And I’m not stupid enough to think that I can change you. I wouldn’t want to change you. You’re a good man. But…’ She shrugged. ‘I feel very proud to be carrying your–our–child. But I worry about what kind of a father you might be.’
    ‘My father was a police officer,’ Grace said. ‘He was a terrific dad to me. I was always very proud of him.’
    ‘But he was a sergeant, wasn’t he?’
    ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
    ‘Shit, I need a drink. How long before we can open that bottle?’
    ‘Maybe another ten minutes?’
    ‘I’ll get supper ready. Can you take Humphrey out on to the patio? He needs to do a pee and a dump.’
    Grace dutifully took the dog up on to the roof garden and walked him around in circles for ten minutes, during which Humphrey did nothing except nip his hand several more times. Then, when he let him back indoors, the dog trotted down the stairs, peed on the living-room floor, then squatted and proudly delivered a massive turd on a white rug.
    By the time he had cleaned up the mess, the RoedererCristal was perfectly chilled. Two bowls of prawns, diced avocado and rocket salad were laid out on the small kitchen table. He pulled two crystal flutes from a cabinet, opened the bottle as carefully as if he was tending to a baby, then poured it.
    They clinked glasses.
    Cleo, seated at the table, looked stunning. So beautiful, so vulnerable. It was utterly incredible to him that she was carrying their baby. She took a tentative sip, then closed her eyes for a moment. When they opened again, they were sparkling, like the drink.
    ‘Wow! That is amazing!’
    He stared into her eyes. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I know I haven’t yet met your father, and there are protocols that need to be observed in your world–but–Cleo–will you marry me?’
    There was a long, agonizing silence, during which she just stared back at him with an unreadable expression. Finally she took another long sip, then said, ‘Roy, my darling. I don’t want this to sound–’ she hesitated–‘sort of weird or anything, OK?’
    He shrugged,