He was very tired and he knew he should have gone home and got his head down as Gilham had suggested. There was a lake of acid churning round in his stomach, his head felt as though it were cracking open and his eyes were so gritty and inflamed that he had to lean forward in his seat to see the road properly. Irresponsible? Yeah, what he was doing was that all right, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to find Janet and bring her back. He didn’t try to kid himself that his motives had anything to do with love – that emotion had died a long time ago, shortly after he had found out about her affair with one of the control room inspectors – but he knew how vulnerable Janet was and in spite of all she had done to him over the last few months, he still felt responsible for her. Maybe a lot of what had happened was his own fault anyway. He had always put the job first, working God knew how many hours on the trot and spending far too much of what leisure time he had left down the police club or in a back street pub with the troops in order to keep the team together.
