Chapter 7
Less than a week before Christmas, Darren’s shoddy luck hit a new low. Specifically, the training centre floor.
Self-defence training was mandatory for all frontline officers and staff, the instructors had boomed at them from day one. The chances of any of them getting hurt, as scenes of crime officers, were very low, they trumpeted, but those chances existed, and therefore, they needed to be trained.
It was a case of swings and roundabouts, really. Self-defence training meant gym kit instead of the starchy uniform. Darren couldn’t see the sense in it, because if he was attacked at work he’d be wearing his uniform and not a comfortable pair of jogging bottoms and a T-shirt he’d nicked from Jayden last summer. But the trade-off for not having to check his trousers were ironed a
