A shaft of sunlight streamed through the stained glass of the old church, casting a warm light across the congregation. DI Clare Mackay stiffened in the short silence that followed the minister’s words and she smiled nervously at the man beside her, DCI Alastair Gibson. He reached across and took her hand, giving it a slight squeeze. Clare swallowed, feeling her mouth dry, and ran her tongue round her lips.

The minister beamed round at the congregation. ‘Always a nervous moment,’ she said, and a ripple of laughter ran round the church. Then she turned back to the couple standing before her. ‘Tom and Gillian…’

From her seat halfway down the nave, Clare craned her neck to see Tom. He was in a morning suit. She had thought he might be in a kilt. But then Gillian didn’t strike her as a kilt kind of person. The morning suit with the rose-pink tie was much more her style. Clare could only see the back of his head but as she watched him, glancing at his bride, she couldn’t help thinking it might have been her standing there in ivory silk. Her and Tom. A couple for so long, until Tom’s role as a solicitor had brought him into conflict with Clare. It had been the beginning of the end and the catalyst for her move from Glasgow to St Andrews. They had both moved on, of course, Clare initially with the sculpture expert, Geoffrey Dark. She had thought he might be the one but then he’d moved to Boston and their attempts to keep a long-distance relationship alive had foundered.

And then, after a hesitant start, she had found herself drawn to her boss, DCI Alastair Gibson. She counted back mentally as Tom and Gillian delivered their vows. It was almost seven months now – seven months since they’d decided to give their relationship a go. And we’re still here, she thought. She glanced at him, and thoughts of Tom and what might have been faded to grey.

‘It’s my great pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife,’ the minister said, and a ripple of applause spread across the church as the happy couple locked lips.

And there it was. Tom was married. Tom who Clare had decided she could no longer be with, despite his best efforts. Tom who had wanted her long after she had stopped wanting him. And she hadn’t wanted him any longer. She was sure about that. But a niggling voice in the back of her mind told her she would miss him wanting her. She flushed at this and felt the DCI squeeze her hand again.

‘Okay?’ he mouthed, and she nodded, hoping he hadn’t read her thoughts.