I rolled down my window and had another smoke. The Christmas decorations were coming out here too—wreaths on doors, a “SANTA PLEASE STOP HERE” sign stuck lopsided in a garden—and the night air had turned cold and glassy enough that it finally felt like winter. I threw my cigarette butt away and took a deep breath. Then I went up to Olivia’s door and rang the bell.

Liv answered in her slippers, with her face washed ready for bed. I said, “I told Holly I’d come in and say good night.”

“Holly’s asleep, Frank. She’s been in bed for ages.”

“Ah. OK.” I shook my head, trying to clear it. “How long was I out there?”

“Long enough that I’m amazed Mrs. Fitzhugh didn’t ring the Guards. These days she’s seeing stalkers everywhere.”

She was smiling, though, and the fact that she wasn’t annoyed at me for being there gave me a ridiculous little flash of warmth. “That woman always was a fruitcake. Remember the time we—” I saw the retreat in Liv’s eyes and caught myself before it was too late. “Listen, is it OK if I come in for a few minutes anyway? Grab a cup of coffee, clear my head before I drive home, maybe have a quick chat about how Holly’s doing? I promise not to overstay my welcome.”

Clearly I looked like I felt, or at least enough like I felt to push Liv’s pity buttons. After a moment she nodded and held the door wide.

She took me into the conservatory—there was frost starting in the corners of the windowpanes, but the heating was on and the room was snug and warm—and went back to the kitchen to make the coffee. The lights were low; I took off Shay’s baseball cap and shoved it into my jacket pocket. It smelled of blood.

Liv brought out the coffee on a tray, with the good cups and even a little jug of cream. She said, settling into her chair, “You look like you’ve had quite a weekend.”

I couldn’t make myself do it. “Family,” I said. “How about you? How’s Dermo?”

There was a silence, while Olivia stirred her coffee and decided how to answer that. Finally she sighed, a tiny sound I wasn’t meant to hear. She said, “I told him I didn’t think we should see each other any more.”

“Ah,” I said. The quick sweet shot of happiness, straight through all the dark layers that were wrapped tight around my mind, took me by surprise. “Any particular reason?”

Elegant little shrug. “I didn’t think we were well suited.”

“And did Dermo agree with that?”

“He would have, soon enough. If we’d been on a few more dates. I just got there a bit faster.”

“As usual,” I said. I wasn’t being bitchy, and Liv smiled a little, down at her cup. “Sorry it didn’t work out.”

“Ah, well. You win some . . . What about you? Have you been seeing anyone?”