The Sun Will Still Shine Tomorrow Read Online Free PDF Page A

station.
    Over the next twelve months McCaffrey acknowledged Ash every time they met which would invariably be in the charge room while Ash was booking in another arrest.
    “Morning, Geordie. Busy again, keep up the good work.”
    Austin Reed was a well-known store on Regent Street, just up from the Man in the Moon passage which led into Vine Street. On the lower level was the gentleman’s barber shop which was normally reserved for the city gent types to have themselves groomed for a princely sum.
    Ash knew that it opened at 8am and today he would be the first customer, because this wasn’t just any old haircut, it wasn’t the normal trim he would settle for at Pete the Barber’s in the dingy basement on Wardour Street. If he was about to do something radical, the preparation and state of mind had to be right. His uniform had never been so immaculate and he could just about make out his reflection in the toecaps of the shoes that had almost crippled him months earlier.
    He knew exactly what time he would carry out his operation. He had walked past the office often enough en route to the admin department and he knew that by about 9.30am McCaffrey would have had his daily briefings and updates by his underlings and would be just about to settle down to the business at hand.
    As he reached the landing of the third floor, he took a deep breath. His heart was practically jumping out of his chest. No going back now, he thought to himself. Ash reached the open doorway, stood still and knocked on the heavily glossed panelled door. McCaffrey looked up from the heavy oak desk and peered at Ash through his bi-focals.
    “Ah, Geordie, come in, have a seat.”
    “I’d rather not, sir. What I’ve got to say won’t take long, if I could have a minute of your time.”
    McCaffrey smiled, removed his glasses and rested them on the table.
    “Very well, what is it you want to say?”
    Ashley walked further into the huge office and stood in front of McCaffrey’s’ desk.
    “Sir, I just want you to know that I wish to be considered for the CID.”
    He felt a lump in his throat; he paused as if about to deliver a best man’s speech.
    “And I want to work on the divisional crime team; I know that is where my future is.”
    McCaffrey rearranged a few papers on his huge oak desk, raked his fingers through his hair and sighed deeply.
    “That’s all very well, Clarke, but there’s a process in place for that and we won’t be advertising for vacancies for another twelve months.”
    “I know, sir. I just wanted to bring it to your attention, that’s all.”
    “I see. Well, thanks for letting me know, just keep up the graft, keep your nose clean and we’ll see how things work out for you next year.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    “Is that everything, Clarke?”
    “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
    McCaffrey had never called Ashley by his surname. He’d always thought being called Geordie by such a senior officer was a term of endearment. He’d always thought he’d been on the right side of McCaffrey, but in the space of less than a minute he’d managed to blow everything. That sort of approach was unheard of. The audacity of walking into the Chief Superintendent’s office proclaiming one’s desires was the stuff of fiction.
    “Okay then… on your way.”
    Ashley turned to walk out as McCaffrey’s head lowered and focused on the mound of paperwork requiring his attention, and, as Ash took the last few steps towards the doorway, the voice from behind the heavy Victorian desk slowed his pace.
    “By the way, Geordie, you’ve got some fucking nerve, haven’t you?”
    The softly spoken, unassuming Irish accent of the gentleman that was McCaffrey washed over Ash with a warm glow, and in that instant he knew he had done the right thing. A familiar feeling of quiet satisfaction came upon him and as he walked from the office, he turned; his reply was simple.
    “I want it that badly, sir.”
    The familiar roll-call played out once more in