The email troubled Hulda, though the request seemed simple enough. Her boss wanted to meet her at nine that morning to talk things over. The email had been sent late the previous evening, which was unusual in itself, and it was most unlike him to want to start the day by ‘talking things over’ with her. Hulda was used to seeing him holding informal morning meetings, but she had never been invited to one herself. These weren’t work meetings so much as bonding sessions for the boys, and she definitely wasn’t part of that gang. Despite all her years in a position of responsibility, she still had the feeling that she didn’t enjoy the full trust of her superiors – or of her juniors, for that matter. Management hadn’t been able to overlook her entirely when it came to promotion but, eventually, she had hit a brick wall. The positions she applied for kept going to her younger, male colleagues, and in the end she had accepted the inevitable. Instead of applying for further laurels, she had settled for doing her job as a detective inspector as well as she could.
So it was with some trepidation that she went along the corridor to Magnús’s office. He answered her knock promptly, affable as ever, but Hulda had the feeling his friendliness was all on the surface.
‘Take a seat, Hulda,’ he said, and she bristled at what she took to be a note of condescension in his voice, whether conscious or not.
‘I’ve got a lot on,’ she said. ‘Is it important?’
‘Take a seat,’ he repeated. ‘We need to have a little chat about your situation.’ Magnús was in his early forties; he’d risen fast through the ranks of the police. He was tall and healthy looking, if unusually thin on top for a man his age.
She sat down, her heart sinking. Her situation?
‘You haven’t got long now,’ Magnús began, smiling. When Hulda said nothing, he cleared his throat and tried again, a little more awkwardly: ‘I mean, this is your last year with us, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ she said hesitantly. ‘I’m due to retire at the end of the year.’
‘Exactly. The thing is …’ He broke off, as if choosing his words with care: ‘we’ve got a young man joining us next month. A real high achiever.’
Hulda still wasn’t sure where this conversation was heading.
‘He’ll be taking over from you,’ Magnús continued. ‘We were extremely lucky to get him. He could have gone abroad or into the private sector.’
She felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. ‘What? Taking over from me? What … what do you mean?’
‘He’ll be taking over your job and your office.’
Hulda was speechless. The thoughts began racing around in her head. ‘When?’ she asked hoarsely, finding her voice again.
‘In two weeks.’
‘But … but what’ll happen to me?’ She felt floored by the news.
‘You can go now, straight away. You don’t have much time left anyway. It’s only a question of bringing your leaving date forward by a few months.’
‘Leave? Straight away?’
‘Yes. On full pay, of course. You’re not being sacked, Hulda, you’ll just be taking a few months’ leave, then you’ll continue straight on to your pension. It won’t affect the amount you receive. There’s no need to look so surprised. It’s a good deal. I’m not trying to short-change you.’
‘A good deal?’
‘Of course. It’ll give you more time for your hobbies. More time for …’ His expression betrayed the fact that he had no idea what she got up to in her leisure time. ‘More time to spend with …’ Again, he trailed off mid-sentence: he should have known that Hulda had no family.
‘It’s kind of you to offer, but I don’t want to retire early,’ Hulda said stiffly, trying to control her expression. ‘Thanks, all the same.’
‘It wasn’t an offer, actually: I’ve already made my decision.’ Magnús’s voice had taken on a harder edge.
‘Your decision? Don’t I get any say?’
‘I’m sorry, Hulda. We need your office.’
And to surround yourself with a younger team, she thought.
‘Is that all the thanks I get?’ She could hear the wobble in her voice.
‘Now, don’t take it so badly. It’s not intended as any reflection on your abilities. Come on, Hulda: you know you’re one of the best officers we’ve got – we both know that.’
‘But what about my caseload?’
‘I’ve already allocated most of it to other members of the team. Before you leave, you can sit down with the new guy and put him in the picture. The biggest thing you’re handling at the moment is the hit-and-run on the paedophile. Have you made any progress there?’
She thought for a moment. It would have been satisfying to her ego to end on a high note: case closed, confession in the bag. A woman who had, in a moment of madness, taken the law into her own hands to prevent further children from falling into the clutches of an abuser. Perhaps there had been a kind of justice in the attack, a just revenge …
‘I’m nowhere near solving that one, I’m afraid,’ she said after a pause. ‘If you ask me, it was probably an accident. I’d advise shelving the case for the time being and hoping the driver will come forward in due course.’
‘Hmm, right. OK, fine. We’ll hold a little reception to give you a formal send-off later this year, when you officially retire. But you can clear your desk today, if you like.’
‘You want me to leave … today?’
‘Sure, if you like. Or you can stay another couple of weeks, if you’d prefer.’
‘Yes, please,’ she said, immediately regretting the ‘please’. ‘I’ll leave when the new man starts, but until then I’ll continue working on my cases.’
‘Like I said, they’ve all been reallocated. But you, well, you could always look into a cold case, I suppose. Anything that takes your fancy. How does that grab you?’
She felt a momentary impulse to jump up and storm out, never to return, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
‘Fine, I’ll do that. Any case I like?’
‘Er, yes, absolutely. Anything you like. Anything to keep you occupied.’
Hulda got the distinct impression that Magnús wanted her out of his office; he had more pressing matters to attend to.
‘Great. I’ll try to keep myself occupied then,’ she said sarcastically, and getting to her feet, she walked out without a goodbye or a word of thanks.
V
Hulda stumbled back to her own office in a state of shock. She felt as if she’d been sacked, thrown out on her ear; as if all her years of service counted for nothing. It was an entirely new experience for her. She knew she was over-reacting, that she shouldn’t take it like this, but couldn’t seem to get rid of the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She sat down at her desk and stared blankly at the computer, lacking the energy even to switch it on. Her office, which up to now had been like her second home, felt suddenly alien, as if the new owner had already taken possession. The old chair felt uncomfortable, the brown wooden desk looked tired and worn, the documents no longer meant anything to her. She couldn’t bear the thought of spending another minute in there.