Chapter Text
Chapter 35: What’s just ours.
During the weekend spent together in Ascot, Strike and Robin spent a generous amount of time planning extravagances to make their wedding theirs. Sure, they’d celebrate a traditional Anglican ceremony in the church, so that their more conservative relatives wouldn’t have a panic attack, and Strike would wear his military dress no.1 for special occasions, and they’d have pretty pictures taken, but then they’d organise a huge banquet at the farm, where everything started, with family and friends and they’d be wild, get drunk, dance until the wee hours of the morning, eat all they could, ride horses, and Robin would not vow to obey him. And for a honeymoon, they would travel together, and visit France, Italy, Germany and Greece, and they wouldn’t give their children too serious-sounding names, and they wouldn’t baptise them, they wouldn’t go to church on Sundays, they would do life in a fun way, and not forget their roots, their identities, and their more liberal minds.
“And what if there are no children?” Robin asked their first morning back home, lying naked over Strike on the sofa while they discussed plans for the future.
“Then,” Strike pecked her lips, “it’ll be just us. Either way it’ll be perfect.”
T he doorbell rang, catching them by surprise, and both of them rushed to their feet.
“Run, run!” Strike rushed Robin, who laughed, running upstairs butt naked. Strike grabbed the sofa blanket and put it around himself, checked they hadn’t left stains anywhere, and went to open the door. To his surprise, Rokeby stood there with an unfriendly face, holding a large envelope. “Mr Rokeby, how can I help you today?”
“We got the test results. I am your father,” he grumbled. “So I’m here to be interrogated so that you’ll agree to test and donate me your kidney, as the contract we signed said.”
Strike moved aside to let him in.
“Please, wait in the sitting room. I’ll run to get ready, I was having a lazy morning.”
Upstairs, Strike explained Robin the situation while he got dressed and they kissed goodbye before he returned to Rokeby, to take him in Rokeby’s car to the RMP Headquarters of London. There, Strike took Rokeby to Captain Connor Rhys, who began interrogating Rokeby. Strike was allowed to see, so he stood in the adjoined room watching through a large glass with other officers, and in a few minutes, Rokeby was under arrest, having confessed only when the evidence against him was too big.
“I did my part,” Rokeby growled, glaring at Strike furiously as he was handcuffed, moment in which Strike came over. “No you do yours.”
“I’ll go to the doctor immediately,” Strike nodded, and looked at Rhys. “What happens with him now?”
“He’ll be in prison awaiting trial,” explained the Captain. “Afterwards he’s likely to do life in prison.”
“My lawyer won’t allow it,” grumbled Rokeby. “I will get out, and you’ll give me your kidney Strike, and I will live happily forever!”
“Never lose hope, as they say,” Strike turned around and left, feeling conflicted.
After entertaining himself at the doctor for a couple hours, Strike called Robin from a phone cabin in the street and they met in Hyde Park. Robin waited for him on a bench with a beer to share between them.
“So how did it go?” asked Robin, handing him the beer.
“My father’s a war criminal, a despicable monster, a murderer,” Strike grumbled, shaking his head. “And I’m supposed to give him my kidney and save his life.”
Robin frowned and sighed deeply, moving a hand to squeeze his.
“That’s absolute bollocks…”
“Yeah,” Strike nodded, frowning deeply, and gave his drink a long sip. “I went to the doctor. I can’t donate him my kidney.”
“How come?” asked Robin, getting concerned.
“Well apparently they’re not in the best shape either. It’s not too bad, but when I lost my leg and had sepsis they got damaged and it’s not life-threatening for me, but there are strict rules on organ donation and the organs have to be in better shape than that, so they won’t allow me to be a donor. They’ll send the Rokebys a letter explaining the situation so that it is understood I went with my part of the contract, but this is beyond my own control.”
“Wow,” Robin took the beer from him and gave it a long sip. “Will you be all right then?”
“Yeah,” Strike nodded. “I know the truth now, Robin. Is not pretty, but it’s all that I needed. And the war’s finished. And the world’s changing for the better, hopefully.”
“So what now?”
“We help Lucy with her wedding. We dance. We have fun. We enjoy life. We plan our own wedding. You don’t take my surname,” he side smiled, looking lovingly at her. “And we tell our story while we grow old together.”
Robin kissed him gently and smiled, squeezing his hand.
“So we get to be together and happily ever after.”
“Happily ever after.”
THE END.