‘I’ve seen her. I saw you with her at the hospital.’

Even through her own discomfort, she knew that he sounded horribly miserable at the admission.

‘I never mentioned it because I wanted to respect your privacy. No one at work mentioned the fact that you had a sick daughter, so I gathered they didn’t know.’

Anger burnt through her, then almost immediately it abated, and was replaced by a cathartic kind of relief. She stared at him, then sighed. ‘I wasn’t thinking of Hannah. It was another girl. Her death was …’ she paused – she never talked about the death of Emily Drennan, ‘… just too much of a waste to bear.’

Joseph sat beside her and with no hint of embarrassment placed an arm firmly around her shoulders. ‘An old case? A bad one?’

‘The worst.’

‘There’s always one that takes your world and tears it to shreds.’

Nikki nodded numbly, then had the saddest of thoughts. It was irrelevant to the case, but she could not remember the last time that someone had held her. A tear formed in her eye, and she sniffed it back. When she’d had attacks in the past, and there had been quite a few just after Emily’s death, they had always been immediately followed by a period of black depression. It didn’t last long, but during that time she felt unnaturally aggressive and was best left alone. Today was different. She just felt sick, tired and vulnerable. And there really was no time for all this. She straightened up. ‘We should contact the station. Let them know—’

‘Not yet. You take a minute to calm yourself before they get here, hey? They are already on their way, and this is one heck of a backwater.’ He paused for moment then said, ‘The dead girl? It’s Lisa Jane Leonard, isn’t it? I saw the tiny scar beneath her ear.’

Nikki nodded. ‘Archie and his family will be devastated.’

‘Everybody’s family gets devastated at one time or another, doesn’t it?’ The arm remained gently across her shoulders and his hand squeezed her reassuringly. ‘How long has Hannah been in a coma?’

‘She’s not in a coma,’ replied Nikki. It seemed odd to talk about her. So odd that she almost didn’t know how. ‘She was, but now she can breathe for herself.’ She looked down. ‘But that’s about all she can do. She’s in what they call a persistent vegetative state.’

Joseph puffed out his cheeks. ‘Phew, how long?’

‘Eleven months.’

He turned to her and his gaze was full of honest admiration. ‘How on earth have you coped?’

‘That’s all I ever do, Joseph.’ She gave him a sad smile. ‘I cope. I just cope. I don’t live, I don’t enjoy anything. I exist, I work and I manage. I have to because one day I’m going to get my daughter back.’