‘Of course!’ Adam produced the paperwork from his bag with a flourish worthy of a magician pulling a bunch of flowers from a top hat. He thumbed through to the final page and, together with a biro, thrust it into Steph’s hands. ‘Just sign there.’

Steph picked up the contract and, with equal flourish, tore the paperwork in half and then half again. ‘Sorry. Not sorry.’

‘Oh, man!’ groaned Adam.

‘Look, I’ve had all sorts of offers. But I can’t say anything, not until the case has been looked at again.’

‘I think that knock on your head must have knocked your senses out at the same time.’

‘Nope. Knocked some sense into me, I’d say.’ She looked ruefully at her ex-colleague. ‘And don’t think you’re going to get any information out of me either, so don’t bother even talking to me about it.’

Adam picked up the pieces of torn paper. ‘Oh, well, I tried.’

He stayed a little longer and Steph managed to keep the conversation off-topic, even though she knew Adam was itching to turn it around. Much as it was nice catching up with him, she was relieved when he finally left, the effort of being on her guard sapping her energy.

Steph rested her head back against the pillows and closed her eyes. She was exhausted and now the adrenalin had evaporated she was feeling the effects of her near-death experience. A wave of emotion surged and the desire to cry overwhelmed her. She snatched at a tissue from the box on the bedside cabinet and wiped her face. She had nearly drowned. Pru Sinclair had tried to kill her. The enormity of the events battered her, causing more tears to fall.

It was a moment or two before she became aware someone else was in the room. She was shocked to see Harry standing just inside the door. His face was drawn, his eyes puffy and red-rimmed. Steph swallowed hard and fought against her tears. She looked at Harry, who returned her gaze without saying a word.

It took a moment, but all at once, Steph understood.

‘Oh, no,’ she said, flinging the covers from her and slipping out of the bed. Her bare feet pitter-pattered across the cold, sterile floor. She reached him, went to put her arms around him and then stopped, conscious that she might have misread the situation or that he might not even want her to hold him.

A tear escaped from the corner of his eye and his shoulders slumped. Steph had no hesitation this time – she threw her arms around him, and even though he had to stoop, she held the back of his head as he rested his forehead on her shoulder.

‘She’s dead.’ Harry’s words were muffled.