‘I’ve never asked you to do anything for me!’ George feels his temper, which had been having a long, carb-induced lunchtime nap, wake and stretch. Bloody women. Why did they have to be so complicated? Why couldn’t life be innings and runs and wickets and fast bowling? At least he understood that.

‘I know you haven’t. I happily help from the charity of my heart.’

‘Well, you don’t have to.’ George wants to kick her.

‘I want to, you old rattlepate.’

‘Don’t you have anything better to do?’

‘Not really, and neither do you. I live at sixteen Lenham Road. Come tomorrow and bring your drill. My clock has fallen down, and the radiator in my bedroom leaks.’

Dan

(Anyone for a game of Cluedo?)

DAN DUTIFULLY ATTENDS A catch-up session with Alan and goes through all his cases in detail. He uses words like ‘tickety-boo’ when Alan asks how he’s feeling, and slaps his palms on his knees before he stands up, like his dad used to. The whole thing feels forced and awkward and nothing like his debriefing session with Fitz, when they watched Bob Ross paint winter scenes. When Bob added in a second tree, because everyone needs a friend, Dan and Fitz nodded at one another and Dan told Fitz about Atticus.

‘He’s like one of those dogs from Crufts, Fitz. Well groomed, his hair all shiny.’

Fitz had put his head on one side and yawned quietly, not in boredom, but in his best tell-me-more voice.

‘But I do think he’s hiding something and I want to know what it is. I want to help him. I think he’s sad.’

Another curious look from Fitz.

‘I do like him, Fitzy,’ Dan confessed. ‘I don’t know why, but I can’t stop thinking about him.’

Dan slumped back on the sofa. Fitz pushed his nose into Dan’s hands, and gave him a solemn lick. I hear you. I understand. Your secret is safe with me.

They stayed like that for a moment, sharing the silent man-and-beast bond, then Dan made them a tower of Ritz crackers and cheese with his enviable opposable thumbs and Fitz did a perfect Scooby Doo impression by eating the whole thing in one gulp.