‘I’m on a stakeout tonight. I came home to eat and get changed.’ She paused, hearing the musical hiss from his earphones – some kind of dance music still going, trying to catch his eye. ‘Are you avoiding me?’

‘You blame me?’ He looked up, a thin trail of blood leaking down the side of his face.

She sighed. ‘I know we need to get on with the wedding. But sometimes our job really is life or death.’

‘Right. Except one day the rest of the force is gonna have to cover for you. It’s just a crying shame you can’t bear to let ’em do it.’ He got up and bent to retrieve his case.

‘Argh,’ Hawkins covered her face, ‘I know I’m terrible at this.’ She peered out between her hands. ‘I don’t want you to go.’

He hesitated. ‘You wanna talk? Go for it.’

‘I …’

‘See?’ He still wouldn’t make eye contact, and while his tone wasn’t angry, it had taken on an edge of sadness. Which was worse. ‘The only way this works is if we put each other first, at least some of the time. I get that you’re trying, Toni, I do, but you just end up playing chicken with every situation, forcing the other guy to cash out first. That’s where you ended up with Paul, right? Somehow, I let myself think it would be different with us, but here we are.’

He turned to leave but she followed him on to the landing, hearing her voice crack. ‘OK, yes, sometimes the job comes first. But what we do doesn’t fit with nine-to-five; I thought you of all people would understand that. It’s why we work.’

‘That’s it, right there.’ Mike stopped on the stairs, his voice still disconcertingly calm. ‘You think this is working. Well, it ain’t working for me, and you don’t even see it.’ He resumed his descent.

‘Mike. Stop.’ She went after him, catching up as he opened the front door.

‘Look.’ She sighed, glad that he’d paused again, so she could choose her words carefully. ‘You’re right, I didn’t get it before, but now I do. I can put us first, let me show you that. Let’s make some coffee, talk things through.’ She motioned towards the kitchen. ‘Please?’

For a moment neither of them spoke, icy air leaking in through the open door, swirling around them.

Mike stared out at the darkness for a moment, breathing hard, but at last he looked back at her. Put down his case.

Just as Hawkins’ mobile rang.

She took it out of her pocket and looked at the screen, seeing Amala’s number. She was about to answer when she glanced up at Mike, catching the raised eyebrows, the admonishing stare.

‘It’s about tonight,’ she protested. ‘I have to …’

He rolled his eyes, the lightest of smiles emerging. ‘Life or death, right?’