but …'
'A bit of an inconvenience? Having to wet-nurse some opportunistic reporter who's anxious to cut her teeth on me? No, no. It's not an inconvenience at all. IT'S A BLOODY MAJOR PISS-TAKE, THAT'S WHAT IT IS!' This last bit is shouted at about two million decibels and pretty much brings the canteen to a standstill. People stare and I slip down in my seat but James Sabine doesn't take his piercing green, serpent eyes from my red, cringing face. 'Don't you think I have enough to do without having to hump you around with me as well?'
I bristle at this, especially at the use of the word 'hump'. It implies weight issues.
I try again. 'But James …'
'It's Detective Sergeant Sabine to you,' he growls.
'Detective Sergeant Sabine. It's a major PR opportunity. Imagine what it will do for the reputation of the local force.'
'You mean our reputation will be gutter level, the same as the press', by the time you've finished with it?'
I suspect he doesn't like the press very much. I am tempted to ask him if he has had some sort of bad childhood experience with reporters. Perhaps one took his mint humbugs away from him or something. 'No, I mean that it will create good PR. It will show people what wonderful work you do here.'
'I am sure the criminals of Bristol will sleep safer in their beds knowing you will be on the scene.' And he gets up with such force that his chair falls over backwards, and then he strides off. Ignoring the chair, I get up and scurry after him because, to be honest, I'm getting annoyed now. If he thinks he can bully me, he can forget it. I have got my chance of a lifetime, one that might land me my dream career, and there is no way that he or anyone else is going to mess it up. Watch out James Sabine, you have a bona fide shadow for the next six weeks.
I follow him back into the office. As he wends his way through the maze of desks, I can see that the rest of his colleagues are finding all this extremely amusing. Every single one either grins or winks at him as he passes them by. The fact that he seems to be in a filthy mood delights them even more. I avoid eye contact with any of them, anxious not to exacerbate the situation. He sits down at his desk. The one opposite to him has been cleared, presumably for me, so I sit down there. I say, in a really low voice so the rest of the department can't hear, 'Listen. I am really sorry you feel this way. I can assure you that I will do the best PR job I can.'
He looks extremely cynical at this.
'Have you asked if someone else in the department can take me on?' I add hopefully.
'It was my first question.'
'And what did they say?'
'What do you think? Why don't
you
ask if someone else will take you on?'
'Oh no. I only get one chance at this and if you're it, I'll have you.'
'Well, don't expect an easy ride,' he snarls.
I continue regardless. 'We are stuck with each other for the next six weeks. If it would make you feel happier, why don't you lay down a few rules?'
We sit in silence for a few seconds as he considers this. Then he says slowly, 'OK, rule one. You are not to interfere in any of my work. I do not want to hear a peep out of you. You are here to observe only.'
'Understood.' I make a zipping motion with my hand over my mouth. His eyes flicker.
Warming up, he starts to speak more quickly. 'Rule number two. You consult me if you want to use any detail of my cases in your newspaper. Do you hear me? Any detail whatsoever. You could ruin an entire case by giving out information. And rule three' – he leans over his desk – 'you will do the best PR job you have ever done, Ms Colshannon.'
'I fully intend to.'
'Fine.'
'Fine.'
There is a pause. I add, 'Good. Well, I think we understand each other. I am due to start tomorrow morning. What time do you come in?'
'Eight o'clock sharp.'
'I will see you then, Detective Sergeant Sabine.'
And with that I get up and a great cheer breaks out from the rest of the department. I can't help but smile and
'A bit of an inconvenience? Having to wet-nurse some opportunistic reporter who's anxious to cut her teeth on me? No, no. It's not an inconvenience at all. IT'S A BLOODY MAJOR PISS-TAKE, THAT'S WHAT IT IS!' This last bit is shouted at about two million decibels and pretty much brings the canteen to a standstill. People stare and I slip down in my seat but James Sabine doesn't take his piercing green, serpent eyes from my red, cringing face. 'Don't you think I have enough to do without having to hump you around with me as well?'
I bristle at this, especially at the use of the word 'hump'. It implies weight issues.
I try again. 'But James …'
'It's Detective Sergeant Sabine to you,' he growls.
'Detective Sergeant Sabine. It's a major PR opportunity. Imagine what it will do for the reputation of the local force.'
'You mean our reputation will be gutter level, the same as the press', by the time you've finished with it?'
I suspect he doesn't like the press very much. I am tempted to ask him if he has had some sort of bad childhood experience with reporters. Perhaps one took his mint humbugs away from him or something. 'No, I mean that it will create good PR. It will show people what wonderful work you do here.'
'I am sure the criminals of Bristol will sleep safer in their beds knowing you will be on the scene.' And he gets up with such force that his chair falls over backwards, and then he strides off. Ignoring the chair, I get up and scurry after him because, to be honest, I'm getting annoyed now. If he thinks he can bully me, he can forget it. I have got my chance of a lifetime, one that might land me my dream career, and there is no way that he or anyone else is going to mess it up. Watch out James Sabine, you have a bona fide shadow for the next six weeks.
I follow him back into the office. As he wends his way through the maze of desks, I can see that the rest of his colleagues are finding all this extremely amusing. Every single one either grins or winks at him as he passes them by. The fact that he seems to be in a filthy mood delights them even more. I avoid eye contact with any of them, anxious not to exacerbate the situation. He sits down at his desk. The one opposite to him has been cleared, presumably for me, so I sit down there. I say, in a really low voice so the rest of the department can't hear, 'Listen. I am really sorry you feel this way. I can assure you that I will do the best PR job I can.'
He looks extremely cynical at this.
'Have you asked if someone else in the department can take me on?' I add hopefully.
'It was my first question.'
'And what did they say?'
'What do you think? Why don't
you
ask if someone else will take you on?'
'Oh no. I only get one chance at this and if you're it, I'll have you.'
'Well, don't expect an easy ride,' he snarls.
I continue regardless. 'We are stuck with each other for the next six weeks. If it would make you feel happier, why don't you lay down a few rules?'
We sit in silence for a few seconds as he considers this. Then he says slowly, 'OK, rule one. You are not to interfere in any of my work. I do not want to hear a peep out of you. You are here to observe only.'
'Understood.' I make a zipping motion with my hand over my mouth. His eyes flicker.
Warming up, he starts to speak more quickly. 'Rule number two. You consult me if you want to use any detail of my cases in your newspaper. Do you hear me? Any detail whatsoever. You could ruin an entire case by giving out information. And rule three' – he leans over his desk – 'you will do the best PR job you have ever done, Ms Colshannon.'
'I fully intend to.'
'Fine.'
'Fine.'
There is a pause. I add, 'Good. Well, I think we understand each other. I am due to start tomorrow morning. What time do you come in?'
'Eight o'clock sharp.'
'I will see you then, Detective Sergeant Sabine.'
And with that I get up and a great cheer breaks out from the rest of the department. I can't help but smile and
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