During one session, each participant had to identify three instances where they’d actively implemented a self-care plan. They’d joked and suggested examples such as taking a subsidised holiday to Jamaica. The course provider hadn’t seen the funny side. Kelly had asked how they were supposed to heighten their awareness of the human side of crime when they dealt with losers who insisted on actively opting out of humanity to commit crime. They weren’t just dealing with children from broken homes going on to fall foul of the law, they had to consider the career criminal; devoid of empathy and hell bent on causing pain to others.

Nature versus nurture. The course provider said that was a debate for another course, presumably with the same refreshments.

Johnny agreed with her – the army had begun implementing such awareness courses too – and many elite training programmes had been cancelled as too offensive. How the hell they were to train soldiers to go to war when they were encouraged to refocus on feelings was anyone’s guess.

Deep breath.

Meanwhile, the letters continued to arrive and Kelly was in discussion to implement a diversion postal address. But her curiosity delayed the process. Part of her wanted to read what the letters said. It was a morbid game. Not only did each correspondence take Kelly back to one of the worst cases she’d ever worked on, they also reminded her of her sister. It seemed a lifetime ago now, to think that because of Kelly’s job, her only sibling had almost become The Teacher’s final victim. And Nikki had never forgiven her. Theirs was a strained relationship at the best of times and she hadn’t seen her blood relative in months.

‘I can feel your head whirring, slow down and give me a kiss, Kelly Porter. Have you got a long day?’ Johnny brought her out of her wandering musings. She stopped twitching and looked at him. She kissed him and felt safe. It was one of the first things that had attracted her to him: despite his appearance of the wild mountain man in flip-flops, with the intense smile and bright blue all-seeing eyes, she’d been drawn in by his relaxed dominance. It reminded her of her own sense of self. They’d ended up in his bed that first night and she remembered the next morning when they’d stayed there for far too long and she’d had to get to work. It had been the early days of her Cumbria Constabulary journey back then, recently returned from the London Met.

Now, when she looked at him, she felt the familiar calm he allowed her and she wished she could stay in bed again.

‘I need to go to Castlerigg. A young woman – well, a girl really – has been found naked and freezing half to death, near the stones.’

‘Jesus. Is she hurt?’