Her condition had deteriorated more rapidly than expected and the chief, a man who lived for his work but loved his wife more, had taken early retirement to care for her. Not for one second had he considered placing her in a home. He was sixty, after all; it was time to go. It didn’t matter that the entire force had expected Sean to be carried out of his office in a box long after he should have headed for the hills, such was his dedication to the job.

Louise cupped her husband’s face in her hands, noticing the worried look in his usually smiling green eyes. He’d cut his hair tight this summer because the longer it grew the greyer it looked. She thought the short style suited him better – she didn’t even mind that he appeared to be sneakily growing a long-wished-for beard. He looked very handsome, in fact.

‘He seems to be just getting on with it,’ Tom said, quietly. ‘It’s his new norm. Having to repeat everything, remind her of things, expect the unexpected.’

‘Sorry that took so long.’ June led the way back into the conservatory, carrying a wooden board laden with mixed cheeses, chutney, fruit and crackers. ‘He hid the wine glasses.’

Sean followed, bearing the tray of glasses and a bottle of Riesling, his expression resigned.

‘I didn’t hide them,’ he corrected her, resting his load on the table.

‘Oh, your begonia is stunning.’ Louise diverted June’s attention.

‘Yes, the whole garden is beautiful this year,’ the older woman replied. ‘Actually, would you like to see what I found buried down the end the other day?’

Louise tried to look enthusiastic. She followed June out through the double doors and the two women made their way down a winding stone path towards the trees and wilderness at the bottom of the garden.

The conservatory was awash with scents from outside, the sweet fragrance of gardenia and dianthus and freshly mown grass filling the air. Tom watched the women as they strolled, wine glasses in hand. The scene was so peaceful and relaxed he could almost imagine it was just a normal, lazy Saturday afternoon, like they used to have.

‘So, how are you getting on with Joe Kennedy?’ Sean asked, breaking the spell. He needed a distraction from the daily struggle with June’s illness.

Tom sighed.

‘Chief Superintendent Joe Kennedy, to give him his full title,’ Sean continued with a smile. ‘Which he makes me use, as it happens.’

‘You’re joking.’

‘He doesn’t want people to get confused or imagine I’m still the boss.’

Tom cursed under his breath. In his humble opinion, the new chief wasn’t fit to lick McGuinness’ boots. He knew Sean felt the same. The inspector also knew that if he got stuck into Joe Kennedy, Sean would reprimand him and remind him he must show his new boss the respect his title deserved.