smallhobbit | Five Times Gene Heard the Voices and Once When He Responded (Reply)

Title: Five Times Gene Heard the Voices and Once When He Responded
Rating: Green cortina
Word Count: 1,445 words.
Notes: Also written for chamekke as part of Life on Mars Ficathon 2010 as I couldn't decide between two of the prompts. This time it was 'One of the others - either Annie or Gene - begins to hear Sam's voices too'

The first time Gene heard something he didn’t take much notice. He walked past a radio and thought he heard someone say ‘I’m worried about Sam Tyler, doctor; he doesn’t seem to be responding as well as he was.’ However, since that made no sense at all and was followed immediately by the football results he decided he had misheard.

Later that day, he called Sam into his office as he wanted to discuss the post mortem results that he’d received. When Sam didn’t appear, Gene stuck his head out of the office again and yelled “Gladys”. Everyone looked up except for Sam, who continued to read the report on his desk.

“DI Tyler, get your arse in my office, now,” Gene exploded. Sam’s expression of total surprise only slightly mollified Gene, who didn’t care for being ignored.

Two days later, Gene had fallen asleep in front of the television. His wife was going to bed and debated about switching the television off. However, she knew he would then wake up, saying “Oy, I was watching that.” Since she wasn’t going to argue that she’d never known him to watch an arts programme in his life, she left it on. Consequently, when he did wake up, he found himself watching the Open University.

The lecturer began by saying, “It is important that we increase the intake into Sam Tyler’s body. At the moment his energy levels are falling significantly and if this continues we shall soon reach a crisis situation.” Gene peered blearily at the screen, decided he must have been dreaming and went to bed.

The following morning he said to his wife, “It’s a while since we had a decent bit of roast beef for Sunday dinner.”

“I know,” she agreed, “but it’s so expensive to get a good piece when there’s just the two of us to eat it.”

“How about if I asked that new DI of mine round?”

“Well, in that case ... I suppose he’ll expect all the trimmings?”

Gene nodded, delighted to have a proper Sunday dinner to look forward to. He wasn’t going to admit that it had anything to do with the need to increase Tyler’s intake.

The dinner had been excellent: roast beef, roast potatoes, Yorkshire pudding and vegetables, followed by apple pie and custard. They’d sat and watched a film on the television. (It was one of those which they’d seen so often before that it didn’t matter if you dozed for a few minutes, you still knew what was happening.) After the film had finished Mrs Hunt went out to make a pot of tea.

Gene looked across at Sam, to ask him what he wanted to watch, but Sam had fallen asleep on the settee, so Gene decided he could indulge himself by watching the cartoons. To his surprise, it wasn’t Tom and Jerry, but a sock puppet.

“Oh Sam, I’m so glad you’re looking better today,” the sock puppet began by saying. “You’ve had us all worried these last few days. The doctors had been talking about changing your medication, but it doesn’t look as if it will be necessary after all. I’m just so pleased that you look more peaceful now, it’s almost as if you’re smiling.”

Gene glanced at Sam, who did have a slight smile on his lips, and very uncharacteristically went into the kitchen to see if the missus needed any help.

A couple of weeks later and Gene had practically forgotten hearing voices. For a start he had far more pressing matters to deal with. He knew there was something wrong with the interview they had conducted the previous day with the assistant bank manager, he just couldn’t put his finger on it. Normally, he would call Tyler into his office and they would go back through the interview until one of them spotted the inconsistency, but today he couldn’t because his DI had called in sick. Gene would have accused him of being a girl, but having seen how Sam had looked when he had gone home the day before, he didn’t feel he could. His eyes had been red, and looked almost sunken in his pale face and he’d been coughing and spluttering so badly that even Ray had told him to shut up as he was disturbing his concentration.

So there was nothing for it, but to try the infernal contraption that Tyler insisted on using during interviews. Gene would have to listen to the tape of the interview and see if he could hear when the lying bastard of a manager contradicted himself. Gene put the tape into the machine and sat back to listen.

“It’s Mum, Sammy. I’m so sorry I can’t come to you today, but I’ve got this dreadful cold and they’ve told me to stay home in case you catch it off me. Auntie Heather will come and sit with you every day until I’m well enough to come back. In the meantime, the doctors have suggested I record something, so that you can still hear my voice. They’ll all be looking after you and I’ll be back very soon.”

Gene shot out of his office. “I’m going to talk to Tyler about that interview we did yesterday,” he told Chris.

“But Guv, we’ve got the tape.”

Gene’s look was sufficient to convince Chris that going to see the Boss was the indeed best option.

Gene stopped at the off licence to pick up a bottle of scotch and then as an afterthought called into the corner shop and bought a lemon and a jar of honey. He stomped up the stairs to Sam’s flat and knocked on the door. After about a minute Sam opened it. Gene took one look at his DI and ordered him back to bed.

“Where do you keep your mugs?” Gene asked.

“Cupboard by the right of the sink. Don’t want any whisky,” Sam muttered groggily.

“You’re not having any – the bottle’s for me.” Gene meanwhile had boiled the kettle. “This is for you,” he said, handing him some hot lemon and honey. “Now drink it up and get some sleep. We’ve got far too much to do for you to take time off being ill.”

Gene sat in the Cortina watching the junction, waiting for any sign of the blue Transit that would mean that the suspects were heading west. Ray was performing a similar job at the opposite end of the road, whilst Sam and Chris were to carefully, (and Gene had stressed carefully) approach the lock-up where they believed the goods were being kept.

Suddenly, the radio began to broadcast “Control to 695, can you hear me?” Gene reached out to respond.

“Doctor, come quickly, it’s Sam Tyler. I don’t know how it happened. We were just changing the tubes and he became very agitated. We tried to restrain him, but he became even more distressed. Now he’s hit his arm so hard against the side of the bed he’s made it bleed.”

Without even stopping to think what he was doing, Gene had started the Cortina’s engine. He realised that the radio was still broadcasting, “Control to 695, Guv, respond.”

“Phyllis, what’s happened?”

“It’s DI Tyler, Guv. He’s been hit.”

“I know, I’m on my way to the ‘ospital.”

“How do you know, Guv? I’ve only just heard.”

Gene’s snort failed to enlighten Phyllis, and neither did his reply. “I just do.”

Arriving at the hospital Gene rushed into Casualty and seeing Chris grabbed hold of him. “Tyler, where is he?”

“He’s having the wound on his arm dressed, Guv. He wasn’t hit directly, the bullet rico, rico, bounced off the wall first.”

“Right, well you might as well go home, Chris. I’ll wait for the div and drive him back.”

Ten minutes later, a rather sheepish DI Tyler approached his senior officer. “I’m sorry Gene, I was being careful. It happened so fast.”

“Oh yes, and I’m the sugar plum fairy. Come on, let’s get you ‘ome.”

Gene sat in his office, resting his wounded leg on the upturned wastepaper bin. It was recovering well from where Johns had shot him during the train blag, but there were times when it was still painful. His phone rang, so he picked it up, “CID”.

“Is that Mr Hunt?”

“Yes, that’s me,” he thought he recognised the female voice on the other end of the line.

“Could you do something for me, please?”

“I can try, madam.”

“I can’t look after my Sammy any more now. Will you look after him for me?”

“Yes, Mrs Tyler, that will be no problem at all.”