That wasn’t usual for Bert, who generally enjoyed his work, despite his routine protests on occasions at the dullness of it. Tonight he came into their home wishing heartily for a little of that dullness. ‘Supper won’t be long,’ she said. He looked at her for a moment as if he had not understood, then nodded and slumped into an armchair. Eleanor got herself a gin and tonic and set a glass and a can of beer on the small table by Hook’s elbow. ‘Thanks,’ he said quietly. He summoned up a small, grateful smile for her, then stared into space. After a moment, he tilted the glass and poured the contents of the can into it with elaborate care, as if he could shut out the rest of his day by this simple act of concentration. Eleanor sat down opposite him but didn’t speak. They had married relatively late by police standards, when both of them were in their late twenties and recovering from broken engagements. It was a relaxed and happy union; they often didn’t need words. It wasn’t until Bert gave a long sigh and said, ‘We haven’t found her,’ that Eleanor chose to speak.
What do You think about Cry Of The Children (2013)?
