The cab drives off and she looks back at her DS as he walks in the direction of the station, hands in pockets and head down, seemingly unaware of anyone else around him. Archer recognises his suffering and feels for him. She was cautious of the entire team, including Quinn, when she started three days back, but to her surprise he has become an ally. He is different to the others and nothing like Hicks or Pierce, she reflects. As Quinn grows smaller and the cab turns a corner, Archer hopes he has found some solace in the chapel.

She arrives at A&E to discover Grandad has been moved to the Neurology ward.

‘Why? Has something happened?’ she asks the receptionist, a stern woman with horn-rimmed glasses.

‘You really need to speak to the doctor,’ she replies.

Archer navigates the hospital maze for ten minutes and eventually finds the ward. Scanning each bed she halts and holds her breath at the sight of Grandad sleeping open-mouthed, face gaunt and pale, forehead bruised, cut and stitched.

Her throat tightens.

Oh God.

She approaches quietly and sits on the chair by his bedside.

His eyes flicker open. He looks in her direction and smiles.

‘I knew you’d come,’ he says.

She reaches across and squeezes his hand. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Just a little tired, but I’m chipper. Head hurts, though.’

‘I bet it does. What were you doing on Oxford Street?’

‘I wanted to get us something nice at Waitrose. And a nice bottle of wine too. I suppose that’s out of the question now.’

Archer is relieved to see Grandad is better than she initially thought.

‘Did they say why they are keeping you in?’

‘They did, but I couldn’t take it all in.’

A voice interrupts their exchange. ‘You must be Grace.’

Archer looks up to see a man with dark wavy hair smiling and looking her way.

‘Grace, let me introduce you to my new friend and neighbour, Jamie. Jamie, this is my beautiful granddaughter, Grace.’

The stranger called Jamie approaches and shakes Archer’s hand with a firm but gentle grip.

‘Jamie Blackwell. I think we might have said hello a few nights back on Roupell Street.’

Archer recalls the couple she saw leaving number forty-three. ‘I remember.’

‘I didn’t want to leave until you got here.’

‘That’s kind of you.’

‘It’s no problem. I’ve heard so much about you I feel I’ve known you for years.’

Archer shifts uncomfortably in the chair and wonders what Grandad has told him.

‘It was Jamie who pulled me from the road.’

‘Did you have one of your dizzy spells?’

‘No! Some careless idiot shoved me over. If it wasn’t for Jamie I’d be flat as a pancake under a bus.’

The thought of Grandad under a bus makes Archer shudder inside.