Paula was on the point of heading back upstairs when Stacey arrived. The daughter of Hong Kong Chinese parents, Stacey had proved to be a computer prodigy, seeming to grasp the finer elements of programming as readily as if they were a child’s building blocks. She’d set up her own software company while she was still at university, coming up with a couple of boilerplate programs that had made her enough money never to have to work again. Then she confounded everyone by joining the police. She’d never explained her motives but over the years Paula had learned enough about her colleague to suspect that what Stacey loved was the licence to poke around in other people’s data without fear of being arrested for it. She was also convinced that Stacey was firmly ensconced somewhere on the autism spectrum, so socially awkward was she. But towards the end of the MIT, it had dawned on Paula that Stacey was carrying a torch for another colleague, Sam Evans.

Sam’s naked ambition and lack of team spirit had been obstacles to friendship as far as Paula was concerned. She didn’t trust him to have her back when the shit came down, and that was a problem in a close team. Nevertheless, she’d nudged Stacey in the direction of making her feelings known. Life was too short not to go for the things that mattered. Of course, Stacey had said nothing since. They’d gone out for a meal a couple of times since the MIT disbanded, but Stacey had stolidly avoided talking about Sam. However, she had changed her hairstyle to something much more flattering and her clothes had definitely become more interesting than her standard uniform of beautifully tailored business suits. She was wearing more make-up too, emphasising the dark brown of her almond-shaped eyes and giving a palette of colour to unlined skin that looked surprisingly healthy considering how little daylight it ever absorbed. For the first time since Paula had known her, Stacey looked like a woman who thought she deserved to be loved.

Now, as they climbed the stairs, Paula said again, ‘Did I interrupt something? Was that Sam’s voice I heard in the background?’

Behind her, Stacey sighed. ‘He was at my place for dinner. OK? That’s all. Same way you’d come to my place for dinner.’

Paula smiled triumphantly, knowing Stacey couldn’t see her face. ‘Stacey, I’ve known you, how many years? And how many times have I been to your place for dinner? That would be a big fat zero. We always eat out, remember?’

‘You could have come if you’d wanted to.’

At the top of the stairs Paula turned and pulled a face at Stacey. ‘You are such a liar. Look, I’m actually glad you’re seeing him.’

‘Dinner. I didn’t even cook,’ Stacey said firmly. ‘I had it catered.’

‘It’s a start.’