‘Correction. I’ve reheated chicken soup. But it is the supermarket posh range.’ He handed her a spoon. ‘Try a mouthful.’

She took the spoon and sipped at it. It was piping hot and she winced as she swallowed. ‘Hurts.’

He nodded. ‘The paracetamol should kick in soon. Try a little more.’

She managed half the bowl then lay back on the sofa. Benjy climbed up beside her and put his head on her lap. She put a hand down to fondle his neck and he nuzzled into her. Minutes later she was fast asleep, snoring like a tractor.

Day 9: Sunday

Chapter 44

‘I don’t even remember getting to bed,’ Clare said nibbling a slice of toast.

‘You fell asleep on the sofa,’ the DCI said.

‘Please tell me you didn’t carry me upstairs.’

He laughed. ‘No, you wakened up enough for me to walk you up the stairs.’ He indicated the toast. ‘How’s that going down?’

‘Doesn’t taste of much but I am enjoying it.’

‘And your head?’

She smiled. ‘Not quite as stuffy today. I’m definitely on the mend.’ She took a drink of coffee then said, ‘What are your plans?’

‘Working from home. Thought I might walk into town and pick up your car.’

‘No need. Give me a lift in and I’ll drive it home myself, later.’

‘Clare…’

‘Clare, nothing! I survived yesterday and I’m honestly feeling much better today.’

‘Your nose is like a beacon.’

She did her best to smile. ‘On the plus side, it’s keeping Tony away from me.’

The toaster clicked and the DCI rose to retrieve the toast. ‘He pulling his weight?’

‘Ach, now and then. He’s another pair of ears when I need to go over stuff. But he pretty much rubber stamps what I say.’

‘No change there, then. How’s he getting on with Chris?’

‘They’re rubbing along. Better than it was.’

He began buttering toast. ‘You can always chat to me about it – if it would help.’

She smiled. ‘Yeah, I know, Al. Thanks for that.’ She put down her toast. ‘Think I’ve had enough for now. I’ll grab something at work.’ She rose from the table. ‘If you could maybe run me in.’

The DCI drew up outside the station door, dropping Clare as close to it as he could. But she couldn’t help hearing one reporter call, ‘Inspector, why is Gaby Fox in hospital?’

‘Where the hell do they get their information?’ she said, her voice low.

‘In league with the devil.’ He smiled. ‘Give me a shout if you need a lift home again.’

She touched him lightly on the arm then jumped out of the car and escaped into the station.

She’d phoned ahead, calling a briefing for seven thirty, and the incident room was packed. She declined Sara’s offer of a Lemsip but she did accept the mug of tea Jim pressed into her hands.

‘Thanks, Jim.’