"You ain't gonna leave me, are ya, Jan?" Rachel asked. Janet sat down on a rock, "No." "I said it. I knowed you wasn't." An absurd alternative view of Scott&Bailey inspired by the beauty that is Of Mice and Men. Expect golden corn and giant lizards; don't get your hopes up for a happy ending. Dedicated to Sophie, by way of an early – and slightly inadequate – birthday present.

Of Lizards and Cops

The corn was golden, damp with the dew of an autumn evening, as though God had come along with His watering can to feed His crops. A little way off, a trickle of water filtered through the stalks, and it glistened.

A giant lizard came out from behind a rock, and invited Rachel to drink, so she knelt and lapped at the stream. The lizard watched her, and when she'd straightened her spine and pawed her lips dry, it laughed.

"You think tha' Janet is gonna get you out'a bother this time?" it asked. It had Rachel's voice, too. "You crazy bitch. Janet tried an' she tried to 'elp you, but you never listened, an' she ain't gonna be 'ere any more."

"She'll always be 'ere," Rachel said.

"The hell she won't. She's sick o' you messing her round, that's what it is. She looks out for you, an' every time, you're letting her down. You done somethin' real bad this time."

"But Janet'll sort it."

The giant lizard lay back on the bank with its legs in the air and laughed as it sunned itself. "You ain't no good for nothin', you crazy bitch. Janet's gonna leave ya all alone, an' you can't fend for yoursel', an' you'll die."

"No," Rachel clawed at her mouth, "I tell you, she ain't. It ain't like that, 'cause I got Jan, an' Jan's got me, and–"

Some of the corn parted and Janet stepped into the clearing. The giant lizard pranced away, deep into the field, back into Rachel's mind.

Rachel bounded over the stream towards her, stumbling, falling down at her knees. "Janet! Oh Janet–Jan, Janet!"

"What you cryin' about?"

"You ain't gonna leave me, are ya, Jan?" Rachel asked.

Janet sat down on a rock, "No."

"I said it. I knowed you wasn't."

The wind rustled the corn, and Rachel hunched over beside Janet and tucked her knees up under her chin. Janet ran a hand through her hair, and Rachel ran a hand through her hair too, then looked over at Janet to see if she was doing it right.

"I done a bad thing, Jan."

"It don't matter."

Rachel blinked, "Jan?"

"What d'ya want?"

"Aren't you gonna give me hell?"

"Not t'day."

Janet leant forward and laid her head in her hands. Rachel copied her, just so, then raised her head again looked across at her. "Aren't you gonna say it?"

"Say what?"

"If you didn't have me to look after, you coul' live so easy. You coul'–"

"Jesus, you don't remember a thing 'bout what's good, what you're mean'a do, but you remember ever' word I say. And then–"

"Jan?" Rachel said, "Go on?"

"If I didn't have you to look after, I coul' live so easy. I coul' get on with the job, no trouble, no mess," Janet said quietly, "And at the end'a the day, I coul' go wi' the ma'am to the pub, an' we coul' just have a laugh, and I wouldn't have to worry about you gettin' in trouble, and– no."

"Ain't you gonna give me no more hell?"

"No."

"I can go, if ya wan' me to go. I can go off, and–"

"No," said Janet, "I want you here, with me."

Janet lay back in the corn. It surrounded her like a halo, the gold slowly dying away with the sun, shadows falling. Rachel lay back too, and she put her hands behind her head and then she turned sideways and looked eagerly at Janet again.

"Jan?"

"What?"

"Tell me, like you done before."

"I'm tired, Rachel," Janet said, "You heard it all before – you tell it."

"But it's better I' you tell it."

Janet could hear the distant wail of sirens. She closed her eyes, and a tear leaked down her cheek. Rachel held a stalk of corn in her fingers, tearing away grains and tossing them away into the blanket of dusk slowly engulfing them.

"Guys like us," Janet said, "Have nothin'. They work long an' hard, an' when it's over they go off home, an' they're the loneliest guys in the world."

"But not us. Tell 'bout us, Jan."

"But not us."

Rachel nodded, "Because–"

"Because I got you, an'–"

"An' you got me. We got each other. That's what we got."

Janet wiped her cheeks.

"Jan, you know when I had th' lizard in my pocket, an' you shouted at me? I didn't mean it. It was like tha' when I found it – it wasn't me. I was just pettin' it," Rachel said, "And you know when we was in the street, an' I wanted choc'late on my ice cream, and you giv'd me hell? I didn't mean it then either – I was just kiddin', 'cause if there was choc'late I wouldn't have any. I'd leave it all for you, you know tha', Jan?"

Janet was quiet for a while. "I know tha', Rach."

"I like it 'ere. I don't wanna go."

The sirens were less distant now. Janet noticed a flickering blue glow over the other side of the field, but Rachel was playing with her corn, and saw nothing.

"Tell how it's gonna be," Rachel said.

"Look over there. Look out ov'a the stream, and I'll tell it so you can almos' see it," Janet stood up slowly and walked round behind Rachel, and laid a hand on her shoulder. Rachel looked out over the stream willingly. "We gonna get a li'l place. We're gonna have a bootiful house, wi' a big garden, and we're gonna have a deckin' with chairs."

"And the lizards, Jan? Tell 'bout the lizards."

"And there'll be lizards, an' I'll let you have some in th' house, and they'll be ever'where. And we'll eat ice cream, wi' as much choc'late as we can eat until we're sick, like you was when you drank so much wa'er."

Rachel giggled with happiness.

Janet lowered her hand from Rachel's shoulder and took her gun from her back pocket. Slowly she raised it to Rachel's head. Rachel began to turn.

"No, Rach. Look out across the fiel', like you can almost see it," Janet said, and her voice shook, but Rachel looked, "You know Rach, I wasn't never mad. And I ain't mad now. I wan' you to remember tha'."

"You ain't mad," Rachel said triumphantly, "I told that to the lizard."

"And we're gonna go to this place, and it's gonna be–" Janet touched the muzzle of the gun to Rachel's cascading brown locks. Rachel didn't turn. "It's gonna be wond'ful, Rach."

Voices echoed across the land.

"And I get to tend the lizards?"

"And you get to tend the lizards."

"An' live on the fatta the lan'?"

"Yes," Janet said.

"An' I get to–"

The bullet pierced Rachel's head, and she shuddered, then fell back into the corn. Janet looked down at the blood on her hand, and tossed the gun away, then sank down on her knees and rocked back and forth a little bit, like she had when she'd rocked Rachel to sleep.

"Janet? Wher'ya, Janet?"

Janet sat on her knees and looked at the hand that had shot Rachel, and when another hand touched her shoulder she didn't move. And she saw Kevin move across to Rachel's body and touch her neck, like he was searching for life, then shake his head.

"How'd ya do it?" he asked.

"Just did."

"She had my gun?"

"Yeah. She had ya gun."

"An' you took it away an' you killed her?"

Janet raised her head and dropped it again, and another tear rolled down her cheek, and it dried in the late autumn sun. "Yeah."

Gill took Janet by the arm and helped her to her feet, "Sometimes a guy has ta."

"Yeah," Janet said.

"I swear, Jan. Ya hadda. I swear," Gill led Janet away through the field of corn, and away towards the police car that waited. "Come on, Jan. We'll go getta drink."

Kevin crouched by Rachel's blank face and he held his fingers over her eyes and pulled them gently downwards. He leant over and kissed her, and a tear rolled down his cheek and hit hers. He tucked her hair behind her ear and looked back up the track after Janet and Gill.

"Now what the hell," he said, shakily, "Ya suppose is eatin' them two guys?"

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