It was clear though – even to the waitress – that the two men couldn’t stand each other and the older woman gave Trudy an approving and friendly wink when she caught her eye. It did her good, on a slow and miserable day, to see a pretty young girl (in a policewoman’s uniform no less!) being fought over by two good-looking young chaps. Which, in her opinion, was just as it should be.

Trudy, for her part, simply let the two men spar and patiently waited her time. Sooner or later even Duncan would have to tire of the game and leave.

He did so eventually, but only after their plates were cleared and their teacups empty. ‘Well, I’d best be off,’ he finally informed them, standing up and buttoning his coat. ‘WPC Loveday, can I have just a quick word outside? I need a quote for the evening edition.’

Trudy wanted to tell him what he could do with his quote, but discretion got the better part of her. If she didn’t say what he wanted, she knew that he was perfectly capable of saying something truly outrageous in front of Vincent.

‘Fine,’ she sighed. To Vincent she smiled and said, ‘Would you mind ordering us some teacakes or something? I don’t know when I’m going to get the chance to eat again.’

*

Duncan only felt how tight his shoulders had become once he was walking to the door, and cursed himself for being such a fool. Allowing his nose to be put out of joint by some second-rate Adonis. He deserved a good kicking!

Once outside in the grey, bitter air, he turned to her and smiled breezily. ‘Scraping the barrel a bit with him, aren’t you?’ he said, jerking his head towards the café window.

‘Sorry?’ Trudy said, her tone about on a par with the ambient temperature.

‘Lover boy back there. He must be thirty if he’s a day. Bit old for you, isn’t he?’

Trudy opened her mouth to tell him that it was none of his business, then changed her mind. Instead she looked him straight in the eye and said, ‘And how old are you, Duncan?’

He paled slightly, drew in a sharp breath, and then he was laughing. ‘Oh, touché, my dear constable. Touché!’ But inside he felt definitely riled. Why did he let this girl, of all girls, get to him?

‘And how is your fiancée?’ Trudy, not content with one victory, added sweetly. ‘You are still engaged to be married to the daughter of the owner of the newspaper, aren’t you?’ She saw his jaw clench, but was in no mood to let him off lightly. ‘How long must it be now? Getting on for more than two years, at least, by my calculation.’ But even as she heard herself say it, she sensed that she’d made a mistake.