The New Policeman Read Online Free PDF Page A

plonking the stewpot down on the table and sitting down behind it. “Before our mouths are full, and before the phone rings, and before the goats break out again—”
    “And before Anne Korff comes back for her cheese,” J.J. broke in.
    “What?” said Helen.
    “And before we start talking about Anne Korff’s cheese,” Ciaran went on determinedly, “I have something to say.”
    “You’d better be quick then,” said Marian, ladling stew onto her plate.
    “I will,” said Ciaran. “What do you want for your birthday?”
    Marian passed the ladle to Helen, who dipped itinto the stew before she realized who Ciaran was talking to. “You don’t mean me?”
    “I do,” said Ciaran.
    “It can’t be my birthday again already,” said Helen. “I’ve only just had one.”
    “I know how you feel,” said Ciaran. “It seems as if your last birthday was only a month ago, but that short month was in fact a short year. In three weeks’ time, which will feel to us all like three days, you will be having another one.”
    “Oh, no,” said Helen. “Forty-five!”
    “Forty-six, actually,” said Marian, who was always right.
    “I can’t be!” said Helen.
    “Twenty-one, then,” said Ciaran. “We don’t mind. But what do you want?”
    Helen sat back and dropped the ladle. J.J. took it and filled her plate, then his own.
    “I don’t know,” said Helen. “There isn’t really anything I want.”
    “Good,” said Ciaran. “That’s easy then.”
    “Time,” said Helen. “That’s what I want. Time.”
    “I see,” said Ciaran thoughtfully. “And how would madam like her time served? A week in the Algarve perhaps? Two weeks in Spiddal?”

    Helen shook her head. “Not that kind of time. Ordinary, run-of-the-mill time. A few more hours in every day.”
    “Tall order,” said Marian.
    “Not possible,” said J.J.
    “Never say never,” said Ciaran. “Where there’s a will there’s a what?”
    “A big family argument, usually,” said Marian.
    “There’s always a way,” said Ciaran. “Anything can be done. So that’ll be J.J.’s present. What do you want from the rest of us?”
    But Helen wasn’t in the mood. Her mind was on what J.J. had said earlier, about her grandfather. It was time for him to learn a bit of family history.
     
    Ciaran and Helen went out to get the goats in, leaving J.J. and Marian to clear the kitchen and wash up. J.J. waited until the worst of the clattering was over, then said, as casually as he could, “What are the fellas wearing to the clubs these days?”
    His sister saw straight through him. “Clubs? Are you going clubbing?”
    “No! I was just wondering, that’s all.”
    “Are you going tomorrow? Have you got a girlfriend?”

    “Of course I haven’t got a girlfriend!”
    “But you’re going clubbing? Are you? Seriously? Does Mum know?”
    There was no point in trying to pull the wool over Marian’s eyes. Nothing escaped her. Besides, it was suddenly a great relief to have a confidante.
    “Not yet,” said J.J. “Don’t tell her, will you? I might not go at all.”
    “You have to tell her. You can’t just dump her in it for the dance.”
    “Why not? She doesn’t need me. Herself and Phil did it for years on their own.”
    “It’s different now. You’re part of the band. Half the tunes they play are your tunes.”
    “She doesn’t need me, Maz. Anyway, if you’re so worried about it, why don’t you play?”
    “Because I’m not good enough, that’s why.”
    “You are. You’re every bit as good as I was when I started doing it.”
    It was true. He and Helen were always trying to persuade her to join in. She already had nearly as many medals and trophies as J.J., and she was still in primary school. She was still dancing and she would, J.J. knew, carry on when she went to secondary. Marian would never be influenced by what other people thought of her.

    “So?” he said. “What do fellas wear to go clubbing?”
    Marian shrugged. “I don’t