“Here here. What are you visiting me for? Why are you bringing me…” She gestured with her good arm. “This rubbish?”

Ben didn’t rush out an answer. Not right away. Instead, he gave it the consideration it deserved because, quite frankly, he wasn’t sure why he had come to visit the crotchety old bastard.

“The, eh, the constable on the desk told me what happened. About your… About the stroke,” he said. “And she mentioned that she thought your husband had passed away last year…”

Moira recoiled, aghast. “So, what? You thought you’d try moving in on me? Is that it? Thought you’d try and take advantage?”

“What? No!” Ben spluttered, drawing glances from the other occupants of the room. “Christ, no! No, nothing like… No! That’s not what…” He shook his head with considerable force, then reaffixed the smile that had fallen away. “I just… I know what it’s like, that’s all. To be on your own. And at a time like this, I just thought maybe you could do with a friendly ear. A bit of company for half an hour. That’s all. I can go, though, if you like.”

“I think that would be best, don’t you?”

Ben tapped the flats of his hands on the wooden arms of the chair. “Eh, aye. Aye. OK. If that’s what you want,” he said. There was some creaking as he pushed himself up off the seat. “I hope you feel better soon, Moira. I can’t speak for anyone else—because, I’ll be honest, most of them think you’re a right pain in the arse, and I don’t think you can really blame them for that—but I missed seeing you on the desk today. The place isn’t the same without you.”

He picked up the bag with the Lucozade in it, and visibly struggled to fight back a grin.

“It’s arguably better, I’ll give you, but it’s definitely no’ the same,” he teased. “You take care now.”

He had just turned away when Moira’s answer came. “Detective Inspector Forde,” she said.

“Yes, Moira?”

Her eyes crept to the red and yellow box on the bedside table. “Maybe now would be a good time for that cup of tea.”

Ben sat the bag on the floor and rubbed his hands together with glee. “Now you’re talking my language,” he told her. “But please, call me Ben.”

Chapter Seventeen

Ben caught the warning looks from Hamza and Tyler just moments before the shouting started.

“Christ, the wanderer returns! Wonders will never bloody cease!” Logan barked. He’d been standing over by the Big Board, discussing with Sinead what needed to go up there, but was now marching between the desks to intercept the DI. “Where the hell have you been?”