“We searched the RRV thoroughly,” Baxter said. In contrast to Jem, his voice was gaining confidence as he sensed her uncertainty and warmed to his theme. “My best guess is you left the vials on the roof of the car when you counted them, and they’re smashed on a roadside somewhere.”

“I don’t do that,” she said. Several other paramedics had made that mistake, but she had never been one of them. “There was a memo.”

He took the book back, setting it in front of Caitlin, who placed her hand on its cover. “In which case, the police may have to be informed. They might want to search your house and your car, and I need to speak to Kevin regarding disciplinary proceedings.”

“Fine, that’s fine. I’ll contact my union rep,” Jem said, too bewildered to offer any kind of defence. She knew for sure she hadn’t stolen them. “Am I okay to sign on now?”

“Yes. Someone will be in touch in due course.” He unlocked his computer screen and began to type an email, effectively dismissing her.

Caitlin unclipped the radio from her belt and looped the RRV’s keys over its antenna. “I haven’t used anything, and you’ve got half a tank of fuel,” she said, passing everything to Jem and showing all her teeth when she smiled.

“Thanks.” Jem closed the office door behind her and leaned against the corridor wall, fumbling for her inhaler. The spray worked quickly to alleviate her wheezing but ramped up her sense of panic. “Bloody hell,” she whispered. Ordinarily, a slip like this would result in an appendix being placed in her file, a time-limited warning that would progress to a disciplinary should she transgress again before it expired. With Baxter involved, however, she had no idea what might happen to her, or in which direction he might try to push Kev.

She walked slowly to the RRV and sat in the driver’s seat. She needed to sort her kit out and speak to a rep and try to pinpoint every potential place she could have mislaid three glass vials of a Class A, Schedule 2 drug. The lad on dispatch sounded knackered, running through the usual short list of questions and acknowledging her request to complete a vehicle check with a distracted “yeah, that’s fine. G’night, then.”

She managed to put a brave face on things as she changed a defib battery and looked through the response bag, but it crumpled as she switched on the suction. Common sense told her to leave a message for her union rep, and that nothing could be done to help her until she’d informed him of the accusation. She didn’t want to be sensible, though. She wanted an unaffiliated-with-the-ambulance-service shoulder to cry on, and then she might be able to buckle down and get on with things.