“As a replacement for Peters when he leaves?” White turned his nose up. “I don't know. We'll have to see.”
“What's the matter? Worried that having a female sergeant will ruin your street cred?”
“Ha!” White gave a bark of laughter then winced as a bolt of fire shot through his chest.
“Cameron? What was that?”
“That wince? Something hurt, I can tell. Shall I fetch the nurse again?”
“No, love. Just a touch of indigestion. Nothing to worry about.” White felt his chest. The ribs to the left of his sternum (his left) felt tender, as if they were bruised. “That's a bit sore.”
“Yes, love, it would be, wouldn't it?”
“Why?” He tried to remember what happened at dinner. “Did I fall on my front, or something? I remember the chair overturning.”
Beryl's lips tautened and she swallowed. He could see the loose skin around her neck wobble as the saliva went down. She had a mole on the side of her neck. He recalled it when they were young and it looked more like a freckle than anything else but now it was much larger and stood proud of the skin, like a glued-on kidney bean. Her lips were still as full as ever, though her lipstick was paler than she used to wear it. They were going up and down. Up and down.
“Sorry? Yes?” He realised she'd been speaking. “I was in my own little world, there. What were you saying?”