Rosie dropped her fork onto her plate. She’d ordered the first thing on the menu, but she’d hardly touched her pasta, and the dressing on the side salad was turning her stomach. “I even bought the films and left them on her kitchen table. I’m so fucking stupid,” she said, burying her face in her napkin. “But it felt like we were just getting something started.”

He pulled at her hand, untangling the cloth and wrapping his fingers around hers. “Why don’t you go and see her?” he asked.

“I can’t,” she whispered. “She sent me away.”

“Don’t you think you deserve to know why?” He made it sound so reasonable, as if Jem was the one at fault, but he hadn’t seen how devastated she’d looked standing in the rain on the driveway.

“I don’t want to push her,” Rosie said. “I don’t want to make things worse.”

He squeezed her hand. “Worse than this?”

She shook her head, her throat prickly with grief. “I miss her, Kash. I really fell for her. Fluffy was smitten as well, and he’s a capricious little demon.”

“I could tell,” Kash said. “Not about the damn dragon, but I could tell with you. Things didn’t bother you like they usually do: late finishes, that scrote grabbing your arse, Smiffy smearing Bovril all over the kitchen. Even Steph couldn’t get a rise out of you.”

She frowned. “I whacked that scrote with my baton.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t break anything, and you got him a brew once he’d apologised.” Kash stole a piece of her garlic bread. “Bottom line is: Jem’s good for you, and you’d be an idiot to just walk away from this mess.”

“I am an idiot, Kash. You know that better than anyone.” She tried to laugh it off, but she knew he was right.

He picked up the fork she’d abandoned and pushed it back into her hand. “Eat your lunch and get a decent night’s sleep.”

“Then what?”

He crunched into the bread, smearing grease and garlic all over his chin. “Then pull on your big-girl knickers and phone her.”

* * *

The voice mail Steph had left for Rosie was curt and succinct. “I need to go over your interview and statement. Call me.”

Rosie slapped her keys onto the kitchen counter. Her lunch with Kash had killed a couple of hours, but if Steph was working the Sunday on overtime, she would be dragging the shift out till the death, and she would expect Rosie to heed her request. The girls’ positive identification of Kyle Parker had made a more detailed debrief inevitable, and, as usual, Steph’s timing was impeccable.