He looked down at me where I rested against him. ‘Put it this way. How often did you see her before I came on the scene?’

‘Once a week, at least,’ I replied.

‘Right, and how often do you see her now?’

‘Yeah, okay, fair point. Maybe I should make more effort.’

He rose from the sofa swiftly, so swiftly I almost fell forward. ‘This is crap,’ he said brusquely, and walked towards the kitchen. On the television, the woman officer was holding her gun up high and pointing it at someone out of sight. There was a close-up of her face on the screen, her mouth open and eyes wide, the sound of her breathing harsh and fast.

*

Rosaria had said a drink, but I suggested we made it a coffee, in Nero on Long Causeway. This was a compromise on my part. Matty didn’t like me going out drinking without him – he worried about me getting home safely. What if I had a seizure when I was in a pub or a bar and people just thought I was drunk? And Thursday was my turn to cook. Matty had said it wasn’t fair him doing so much of the cooking and we had to have a rota, even though, he had joked, with my culinary skills he would make sure he got a hearty lunch at the hospital.

We arranged to meet as soon as she could get there after work, 6 p.m. – Nero closed at 7 p.m., which would give me an excuse to go home. She was already there when I arrived, in a big bright red jumper, cowl-neck, her black curly hair piled onto her head. Oh Rosie, I thought, as I saw her. Funny how I hadn’t been missing her the last few weeks, but as soon as I saw her, I really did.

She stood up to greet me and her smile seemed a little fixed, I thought – but it was the end of the working day, we were both tired, and hungry, probably. I thought, I could murder a chicken and pesto panini but I’ll be eating with Matty later.

‘What do you want?’ she said. She already had a large latte in front of her.

‘No, no, I’ll go,’ I said. ‘I’ll just leave my coat here, okay?’