“Did I miss anything?” she asked, slapping together an egg white and tomato sauce butty and laughing at Bob’s appalled reaction. She took a bite and spoke around it. “Hey, don’t knock it if you’ve never tried it.”

“I never want to try it, and no, I don’t think so,” he said.

“Broke-Back Brenda’s dead,” Dougie offered.

Jem put down her sandwich. “Get out! Really?” Brenda had been one of their most persistent and unpleasant morphine chasers. “What got her in the end?”

“She choked to death on an egg white and ketchup butty,” Bob said.

Jem flicked a piece of crust at him. “Poor Brenda. I’ll sort of miss her. She had a very creative vocabulary.”

“And a nice cat,” Dougie said.

Bob raised his mug. “To Brenda and Mr. Bigglesworth.”

Dougie grinned and knuckled Jem’s chin. “Bet you’re glad to be back, aren’t you?”

They signed on together, checking through the updated road closures and flood warnings as the banks of yet another local river capitulated to the rain.

“They’ll have to issue us with bloody scuba gear if this carries on,” Bob said. “Oh, here we go.” Their terminal began to bleep, and he read the job details aloud for Jem’s benefit. “Male, twenty-two. Car stalled in flood. Shivering and feels faint.”

“Go save a life, boys,” Jem said and opened the garage door for them.

* * *

The daily briefing broke apart in dribs and drabs, a handful of officers sticking around to compare assignments or attempt swaps, while the majority went straight out to bagsy the cars least likely to smell of stale kebabs. Rosie stayed in her seat, her notepad blank aside from a doodle of a rowing boat with a flashing beacon on it. When the sarge had thrown the briefing open for questions, Smiffy had asked whether there were any plans to provide officers with Jet Skis. Everyone except his van was running solo, and a third of the shift hadn’t yet made it to the station.

“You okay?” Kash said from somewhere behind her. He had started to leave with the crowd and then noticed she hadn’t moved.

“Yeah.” Even to her own ears she sounded unconvincing.

“Worried about meeting Jem?”

“Yep,” she said without equivocating. She desperately wanted to sit down and speak to Jem properly, to have a chance to state her case and try to sort out whatever had gone awry between them. The three-in-the-morning terrors had got to her, though, planting an insidious little niggle that kept telling her Jem’s mind was made up and this would probably be the last time she would see her. No matter what she did, she couldn’t shake it off, and it was making her feel sick.

Kash retook his seat. They had never had a very tactile partnership, but he put his hand on her arm. “How about I buy you a brew later?”