He cut the engine and turned to look at her. ‘I like that dress,’ he told her, reaching out to tug the material further off her shoulder. ‘Particularly the way you can see the strap of your bra. It’s got a kind of … rebellious-chic thing going on.’

‘Oh, really?’ she asked, moving in on him. ‘That’s interesting, because I’d say you’ve got a sort of slutty-authoritative vibe.’

‘I always have that vibe,’ he said. ‘It’s what they say about me after my press appearances.’

‘Yeah.’ She kissed him, and then sighed. ‘They’re all over you. It’s so hard dating eye candy.’

He pulled her towards him for another, longer kiss, before releasing her. Four months in, he was still hugely proud of taking her out to see his friends. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t equally impatient to get her home at the end of the evening.

Hanson checked the car park several times before heading to her car. There was, luckily, no further sign of Damian, or of any idling cars. Her Nissan was only ten feet from the door, and she climbed into it thankfully. It may have been freezing in there, but it was a safe space.

She set the engine running before doing anything else. She found herself looking across the road towards the Hammer and Tongs, wondering whether she should go and find Jason. She knew he’d appreciate it, for all his facade of independence. And maybe afterwards they could go home and have a proper talk, and she could tell him about Damian at long last.

But the idea seemed too much just then. With her mind half on the murder enquiry and having worked six long days this week, she was tired and fragile. She could also feel a headache coming on and knew that a loud pub would be the worst thing for it. It would be better to find time when things had calmed down a bit.

Decided, she plugged her phone in, hit the play button on some of her running tracks, and pulled out onto Southern Road. By the time she’d got most of the way home, the music had worked out some of the tension in her head.

She backed the Nissan into its customary position as close to the front door as she could manage and killed the engine. The silence left by the music seemed worse than usual. And then she realised that it wasn’t the quiet that had hit her; it was the darkness.

She turned her head to look back at the house, where the security light usually came on when anyone came up the driveway. She could see its outline, faintly, but it was in darkness.

She felt a rush of unease, and thought about driving away again.

But this was her house. She needed to go home. To shower and change. To sleep.