“The fact is, Joanna, there’s always something. Some little shit has always done something that desperately needs your attention on a Saturday night, or someone’s dropped dead, or they’ve found a haul of drugs. And sure, I understand that the police service needs to respond. But it doesn’t always need to be you, does it?”

There was a pause, during which the only sound was the chattering of Amy’s teeth. Joanna was listening, hard. I do listen to you, she thought. See? She stepped forward to put an arm around Amy, who flinched away, pointed at Jo’s trousers.

“Is that blood?”

She looked down at herself. Her coat and the thighs of her jeans were soaked. She looked like a butcher. “Oh. Yes.”

“What’s going on? Is it a murder?”

“Honey, you know I can’t tell you anything until the details are made public.”

Amy threw her hands up. “Oh, for fu—”

“Where are you planning on going, anyway?”

“A friend’s. What’s it to you?”

“I don’t want you to go, obviously.”

“I don’t want to either. But I think it’s time. I’m too young to be someone’s dreary home-sitter. I’m not good at waiting. Or being stood up. I think I’m worth a bit more than that.”

“If I could tell you what I’m working on, you’d understand. It’s big.”

“If you could tell me what you were working on,” said Amy, “maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you and I weren’t involved, you didn’t have to keep everything from me. We were working together. Talking to you was part of my job, a part I liked. Remember when I was a plucky journalist, and you were my best cop pal?”

“Yeah, but what we’ve got now, Amy—it’s special, right?”

“Being a police officer’s partner isn’t what I thought it would be. I thought I’d get more information, not less.”

“So, that’s what it’s about? You can’t grill me for the details in newsworthy cases anymore, so you want to leave?”

“Don’t you think it was more exciting before we were a couple? When the confidentiality standards didn’t apply?”

“They did apply, Amy, but it was different. We had a professional relationship. I can’t share details of a live case with my wife.”

“I’m not your wife.”

“You could be.”

She hadn’t known she was going to say that, and for a moment she wanted to take it back. Was she proposing?

Amy almost laughed, but then she stopped. “Are you proposing?”