She tapped a button on her laptop and the screen behind her flipped to the next slide.
“Oswald’s remains were interred alongside those of St. Cuthbert, with whom he has been associated posthumously, but it is worth bearing in mind that the two did not know each other in life. Cuthbert became Bishop of Lindisfarne forty years after Oswald’s death.”
Ryan slipped into the back of the lecture theatre at the History Faculty in Durham. Tonight, Anna was delivering a late lecture to a group of postgraduate historians and it looked like he had caught the tail end of it. He leaned back against the wall, his lean frame barely visible in the darkened theatre.
Yet, she sensed him. He saw her pause for a moment and scan the room until she found him. He mouthed “hello”, even though she wouldn’t be able to see it from where she stood.
Anna smiled and felt suddenly self-conscious. It was curious how he still managed to have that effect on her. Thankfully, it was nearly the end of her lecture.
“Cuthbert’s shrine here in Durham was a major pilgrimage centre, until it was despoiled during the reign of Henry VIII as part of his dissolution of the monasteries. Your essay topic for this week will be as follows: ‘To what extent do you agree that Oswald’s victory at Heavenfield defined his reign?’ Answers under three thousand words, please, due by Friday. That’s all.”
The lights in the theatre came up and there was a collective stretch and yawn before people gathered up their belongings. Ryan waited while a few stragglers took the opportunity to ask a question before he jogged down the steps to the front of the theatre.
“Hello,” she said happily. “This is a surprise.”
He took her by surprise again when, without so much as a pause, he plucked her off the ground. She wound herself around him, hoping that none of her students would wander back in to find their instructor locking lips with today’s answer to Neolithic man.
“What was that for?” She mumbled once he let her feet reach the floor again. Not that she was complaining.
“I felt like it.”
“Well, Mr Spontaneous, let’s head home. You wanna carry my books?”
He liked this, Ryan thought. He liked the giddy, youthful feeling she gave him whenever he was with her. Whoever heard of DCI Ryan holding hands? Next thing, he’d be asking her to Prom.
“How was your day?”
They walked along the river as twilight fell, casting purple-blue shadows over the water. Above them, the cathedral loomed, dominating the city with its towering silhouette and, beside it, the castle rested like a younger sibling. Anna could tell him all about the history of those buildings and, despite himself, he would be interested because of the way she brought the inanimate to life.
But, not tonight.
“It was long,” he began by stating the obvious, then rattled through the events of the day as they strolled along the riverside, allowing the charm of the scenery to offset the unpalatable subject matter.
“Gregson worked fast, didn’t he?”
Ryan watched a family of ducks paddle along the gentle water beside them. Once again, she had isolated the part of his day that had bothered him the most.
“Yes, but it could be worse; Donovan is a decent guy.”
Anna didn’t know how to prod him for further information if he didn’t want to share it, so they scuffed along the riverbank a few more paces.
“Did you find the meeting … useful?”
Without speaking, Ryan slung an arm around her shoulders so that he could hold her close, while he let it out.
“The upshot is, Doctor Donovan thinks I’m overreacting about the referral. I should see it as Gregson taking good care of his staff, rather than any kind of affront to my abilities.”
“Do you agree?”
“It makes sense, I get that on a logical level. But it’s here,” he tapped two fingers on his chest, somewhere near his heart. “That’s the problem.”
Anna felt the warmth of him through the thin jacket he wore, smelled the scent of him that was both familiar and edgy at the same time. She had fallen for a complicated man.
“Perhaps, try to see it as something designed to help you, until your heart catches up with your head. You said yourself, you like the psychiatrist.”
“Have you been exchanging notes? He told me to see him as a useful outlet only hours ago.”
“Well, why not? If nothing else, you can let some of the frustration out.”
“Yeah.” He thought of what else had emerged during the session and wondered whether to broach the subject.
They were almost home; he could see the little row of cottages set on the hillside overlooking the river.
Tomorrow. He would talk to her tomorrow. It wasn’t urgent, after all.