‘“Bring Your Child to Work Day”,’ declares Finn to no one in particular and gazing out of their meeting room’s glass walls. Various members of the department, if they dare, gaze right back as they pass by. Tom catches sight of Sinead and valiantly tries waving to her, but is stared down by Finn.
‘We’ve been bringing her to Scotland Yard since she was three months old. She’s practically grown up here.’
Liz lets him drone on about the futility of the exercise, preferring to focus on the job at hand, specifically helping Sinead jot down notes for her school assignment.
But she can’t help murmuring, ‘She’s done a lot more growing than some people.’
He whips around. ‘I heard that. Overall senility and deafness are still far off, you know.’ He puffs out his chest. ‘Besides, I think I’ve grown and matured in my own way.’
‘Sorry to break it to you, Finn, but I’m pretty sure your hard-ons don’t count.’
She hides her smirk behind her iPad while he covers Sinead’s ears with one hand while flipping Liz the bird with the other.
‘Dad, get off! And I’m old enough to know what you and mum get up to, thanks.’ They don’t have time to cringe because their daughter deftly wriggles out of his reach, then flips an impressive bird of her own.
‘Sunny!’ they complain in startling unison.
‘What can I say? You’ve taught me well,’ she responds, blue eyes gleaming with amusement and tilting her chin upwards.
Her parents share a rare and fleeting look of agreement. She also observes that they’re suppressing the urge to throw in an ill-advised Star Wars reference.
‘Practically grew up here,’ sighs her father after a while, though he’s smiling sheepishly.
‘Don’t include this in your report,’ adds her mother in her ear.
‘I won’t,’ she promises…typing every word on her phone beneath the desk.