Even as that thought crossed his mind, the boat rose and fell with the familiar sudden lurch that came from someone boarding. He almost didn’t want to turn round because he couldn’t bear the disappointment of seeing Paula at the other end of the hull. But he did turn, because he wanted to think of himself as someone who could be strong.

And there she was, standing at the stern, dressed for business in the same suit she’d been wearing the day before. Different shirt, though. Her hair was rumpled and her eyes were bleary with tiredness. But she was there and that was all that mattered to him.

He scrambled to his feet and couldn’t think of a single thing to say that wasn’t banal.

Carol spoke first. ‘Do you know anywhere we can get a decent cup of coffee this time of the morning?’

He gestured to the open hatch. ‘I have coffee.’

She shook her head. ‘Neutral territory.’

He glanced at his watch. ‘The only place I know is the all-night coffee stand at Central Station.’

She nodded. ‘I’ll see you there in ten minutes.’ And she jumped ashore, a black-and-white dog at her heels as she strode across the cobbles with more energy than he could have managed.

Tony scrambled along the boat and locked the hatch, leaving his mug on the roof. He stumbled ashore and ran across to where his car was parked by the tapas bar. He reached Central Station with three minutes to spare and bought coffee for them both. He stood by the coffee stand, a cardboard beaker in each hand, waiting.

The dog still by her side, Carol rounded the corner and gestured with her head to a bench opposite the station entrance. He joined her there, silently handing over her drink. He still didn’t know what to say. ‘I heard you’d got a dog.’ Hell of an ice-breaker.

‘Always the master of the irrelevant.’

‘It’s not irrelevant. It means something.’

She sighed. ‘And what does it mean in Tony world?’

‘It means you’ve decided to let yourself form an emotional attachment. And that’s a good thing.’

‘If you say so.’ She sipped her coffee. ‘You blackmailed Blake,’ she said.

‘I did.’

‘Why did you do that?’

‘Because I’d rather someone like you was investigating serious violent death in this city than the Alex Fieldings of this world. And because everyone should practise the craft that they’re best at.’

‘You’re still a psychologist, then?’ There was an incredulous edge to her voice that cut him.

He sighed. ‘It’s the only thing I’m equipped for.’

‘Scary thought.’

Sitting side by side, he couldn’t see her face. There were no clues in her tone. Time was, she would have said things like that ironically, as a joke. ‘Did you say yes?’

‘I told him I’d think about it.’