Tommy Oram looked up from the workbench and saw that Beth Mackenzie was standing in the lane, leaning against his van with one foot crossed over the other. She levered herself upright and walked into the lock-up on precipitous heels. She was wearing oversized sunglasses and had draped a wispy scarf around her neck. Digging into her bag, she produced a pack of cigarettes and a gold lighter. She offered the pack to him.

‘Oh, I forgot,’ she teased him, ‘your generation doesn’t like to have fun.’

‘I just think there’s stuff here that shouldn’t meet a lit cigarette.’ He lifted a jar of white spirit from a shelf and added it to the brown canvas bag he was filling. ‘Was there anything in particular you wanted, Beth?’

‘I’m always after something, Tommy, you know that.’ She had removed her sunglasses and folded them closed, keeping the unlit cigarette between her fingers. ‘As it happens, I was wondering how you got on with the police.’

‘It was fine.’ He busied himself looking for something.

‘Fine as in …?’

He rested the knuckles of both hands against the edge of the workbench. ‘They just wanted to know if I had a key to the flat, whether I’d met the guy, that kind of thing.’

‘That tone of voice tells me you’ve not quite forgiven me. What can I do to repair the damage?’ She had taken a step towards him, close enough that he could smell her perfume and feel her breath. He shook his head, his eyes avoiding hers. But she angled her face in front of him. ‘Tommy,’ she said, ‘he couldn’t stay here, you know he couldn’t. It wasn’t safe for him.’

‘It was safe.’

‘Maybe I should have offered to help, done things differently, but my temper got the better of me.’ She reached out and touched the back of his nearer hand. ‘I’m a hot-blooded creature, what can I say?’

He drew the hand away, grabbed the bag and took it out to his van. Once it was inside, he turned back towards the lock-up. Beth Mackenzie’s demeanour had changed. She glowered at him as she lit the cigarette she’d been holding.

‘You need to be very careful,’ she warned him. ‘I mean very careful. You’ve got a good job here and we look after you. Gaby’s fond of you, too. But that doesn’t mean you’re indispensable. In my experience, no one is.’

‘First you tell my dad to sling his hook, and now it’s my turn – is that it?’