“Geri’s going out of her mind worrying about you. We both were.”

“Well, duh, that’s why I came here. That and to cheer you up. You looked so stressed the other day, I swear if I had a credit card I’d have booked you a hooker.” She leaned over to the table and held out the other wineglass. “Here. I brought you this instead.”

Either bought out of Sheila’s babysitting money, or shoplifted—Dina finds it irresistible to try and trick me into drinking stolen wine, eating hash brownies, going for a ride in her latest boyfriend’s untaxed car. “Thanks,” I said.

“So sit down and drink it. You’re making me nervous, hovering like that.”

My legs were still shaking from the bang of adrenaline and hope and relief. I retrieved my briefcase and closed the door. “Why aren’t you at Geri’s?”

“Because Geri could bore the tits off a bull, is why. I was there, what, like a day, and I’ve heard every single thing that Sheila and Colm and Thingy have ever done in their lives. She makes me want to get my tubes tied. Sit down.”

The faster I got her back to Geri’s, the more sleep I would get, but if I didn’t show some appreciation for this little scene, she would blow a fuse until God knew what hour of the morning. I dropped into my armchair, which folded around me so lovingly that I thought I would never be able to get up again. Dina leaned over the coffee table, balancing herself on one hand, to give me the wine. “Here. I bet Geri thought I was dead in a ditch.”

“You can’t blame her.”

“If I’d been feeling too crap to go out, then I wouldn’t have gone out. God, I feel sorry for Sheila, don’t you? I bet whenever she goes to her friends’ houses, she has to ring home every half hour or Geri’ll think she’s been sold into slavery.”

Dina has always been able to make me smile even when I’m trying my best not to. “Is that what this is in honor of? One day with Geri, and all of a sudden you appreciate me?”

She curled back up in the corner of the sofa and shrugged. “I felt like being nice to you, that’s what it’s in honor of. You don’t get enough taking care of, since you and Laura split up.”

“Dina, I’m fine.”

“Everyone needs someone to take care of them. Who’s the last person that did anything nice for you?”

I thought of Richie holding out coffee, smacking Quigley down when he tried to bad-mouth me. “My partner,” I said.

Dina’s eyebrows shot up. “Him? I thought he was some itty-bitty baby newbie that couldn’t find his arse with both hands. He was probably just licking up to you.”

“No,” I said. “He’s a good partner.” Hearing myself say the word sent a quick wave of warmth through me. None of my other trainees would have argued with me over the camera: once I said no, that would have been the end of that. Suddenly the argument felt like a gift, the kind of shoving match that partners can have every week for twenty years.