Death's Privilege by Darryl Donaghue

Mark enjoyed teasing her about police-speak as much as she enjoyed pulling him up for sounding like an online entrepreneur.
    ‘It’s sad, she was only forty four. Far too young to go. Joel’s got the suicide of a twenty-two-year-old boy.’
    ‘Joel? I thought it was Steve?’
    ‘Steve Dales is my DS and tutor; Joel Johnson is another DC on the fast track scheme. We only properly met this week. He’s in the study group for the exam too. Seems nice.’ She sighed. ‘And on that note, I need to study. The girls will be back soon.’
    ‘Is it a bird? Is it a plane?’
    ‘Oh, shush you.’
    Sarah disagreed with the superwoman analogy. She’d watched her mother juggle a full-time job, raise three kids and keep an immaculate home. Sarah didn’t feel particularly super, just like any mother who wanted the best for her children and for them to grow up with a positive role model. She wanted them to understand that life can be hard and the best things sometimes had to be worked at.
    She planned her evening’s study, corporate manslaughter through to grievous bodily harm. She heard Mark pacing downstairs. He always paced when he was on the phone and it drove her nuts. She realised her mind was looking for any minor distraction to avoid studying, so she closed the bedroom door, put her phone on silent and went back to her books.
    When Heather rang the bell, Sarah ran downstairs and opened the door. She thanked her sister profusely for picking up the twins and sat down in the lounge with her family. She told the girls censored details of the cases she’d been working on—Sophie was hooked, Ellie not so much—and they talked about their day at school.
    When the twins went up to their room, she settled down to study again. The long hours had taken their toll and she took in far less than she read. Organised notes became scribbles she made to avoid reading anymore and would probably make little sense on a second read-through. The coffee lost its potency after the second cup and, with another early start in the morning, she decided to tactically withdraw from the textbooks and come back to fight another day.
    Sarah knocked on the twin’s bedroom door. The girls were both on their single beds on opposite sides of the room. Sophie lay on her front watching a movie on Mark’s phone with her headphones in and Ellie was reading a book and writing on an A4 pad. Sarah sat down on the edge of Sophie’s bed.
    ‘I want to speak to you both about something.’ Sarah had a good relationship with her daughters. Ellie was the quieter of the two. She preferred sitting with a book, painting or some other solitary pursuit. Her introversion hadn’t suffocated her social development; it had just led to smaller friendship groups with the more timid children. The early-years teachers had suggested she may have a retarded social development and even mooted a mental condition, but Sarah knew to just wait it out and eventually she’d find her place in the world. Ellie was growing into a thoughtful, considerate and mature young girl, in contrast to her sister, who was the mouthpiece of the pair.
    ‘Is it about why you don’t come home much anymore?’ Sophie asked, taking one headphone out and keeping her eyes on the screen.
    ‘I do come home, Soph, it’s just that sometimes it’s after you’re asleep.’ Ellie put her book down, giving her mother her full attention. ‘There’s a lot of work on in the office and I’ve been away a lot, so I haven’t been able to see much of you. I’ve missed you both and I’m going to make it up.’
    ‘We’ve missed you too, Mummy.’ Sophie spoke for the both of them. Sarah looked at Ellie in anticipation of a response, but only saw a half-forced smile.
    ‘It won’t be forever. In a couple of months, it’ll settle down a little and things will get back to normal.’ For now, it was the only card she had to play: One day, things will be fine. It wasn’t a lie, it was just part of the constant