Hawkins drew up outside the heavy metal gates and began drumming at the wheel as a portly man with white hair and a blue uniform exited the Portakabin inside the fence and shuffled round to her open window. He took an inordinate amount of time scrutinizing her ID before hobbling back to his lair, but at last the gate shivered and began to slide open with a high-pitched screech. Hawkins eased forwards and waited for the painful ballet of the airlock security system to play itself out.

They had met moments before, Mike leaving his Range Rover in the open parking spaces further along Walmgate Road to join her in the Alfa. The opening moments saw both parties waive animosities over recent skirmishes, cutting straight to the subtle reassurances offered by small talk, each making gentle enquiries about the other’s day; empathetic noises in response to shared woes. Surprisingly, the undertones, always more informative than the verbal content, remained positive, although now, as they sat watching the large metal barrier grind its way aside, a gravid silence descended, emphasizing the fact that opening statements were due. Yet, despite their obvious necessity, words wouldn’t come.

She turned to stare out of the window, trying to look as if her eye had been drawn by something out on the tarmac expanse beyond the gates, savouring the short-term break in hostilities. The slightly awkward silence constituted their most agreeable moment together for a while.

So why mortgage it for what was likely to end up as another fight?

Mike rescued her.

‘I get why you recommended me for the narc team.’

She turned to look at him. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah. But I acted like I thought you were being selfish, even though I knew you did it for us.’

Something inside Hawkins relaxed. ‘I did.’

‘Unfortunately, I was too pissed to say so at the time, which left me no choice but to stand my ground.’

She frowned. ‘That’s why you moved out?’

‘That, and the fact I thought I was losing you. Asshole, huh?’

‘A bit. What changed your mind?’

He folded his arms, made eye contact. ‘I miss you.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Crazy, right? You’re a royal pain in my ass. Moody, impulsive, sarcastic. You think the damn house tidies itself.’

‘Let’s not get carried away. I have bad points, too.’

He half-smiled. ‘I wasn’t done.’

‘Wow. Don’t let me stop you.’

A beat. ‘Emotionally stunted and commitment-averse.’

‘Ah.’ Hawkins picked up the sober change in his tone as the gate bumped to a stop and a green light came on. She engaged first, crept forwards. ‘Couldn’t we have skirted the issue a bit longer?’

‘Sorry.’ He was watching her. ‘I kinda need us to work this out.’

She sighed, fighting the urge to remind him that he was the one who moved out. ‘I know.’

He gave her a few seconds. ‘So …?’