“She’s not. And, I was going to … never mind.”

“You were going to what?”

“Oh, it’s just— I bought a ring.”

Without taking her eyes off the road, Jo let out a little whoop of joy, leaned over and slapped Atkinson on the knee. “Congratulations!”

“I haven’t actually asked her yet—don’t jinx it.”

“Mate, she will say yes. I’m really happy for you.”

“Well, we’ll see, won’t we?”

“How could she not?”

“If you get me home before Christmas is over completely, then there might be a chance. A slim chance.”

Harper laughed, assuming he was joking. Atkinson grimaced and looked out the window at the traffic.

Whatever Felicia ended up saying to Steve in response to his proposal, it was unlikely to go as badly as it had for Joanna the previous morning. He’d planned it, for a start, bought a ring. He actually wanted to get married too, wasn’t just throwing it out as a pathetic attempt to hold onto something he wasn’t even sure was the right thing. Jo still didn’t know where Amy had gone, though she planned to try to find out later, to make sure things were okay between them. This morning, after a starfish sleep and a quick series of hill sprints, she had returned her road bike to its familiar place in the hallway, where the stacks of high-heeled shoes had been until very recently. The feeling was bittersweet.

Grimsby was suitably named. Although it was on the coast, the industrial town wasn’t a typical tourist destination, dominated as it was by the fisheries and the seafood processing factories. It didn’t look good, it didn’t smell good. Cleethorpes, a couple of miles south, with its famous beaches, was the place people were drawn to, but the bigger town of Grimsby was where the police and Social Services were based. Much of the older housing stock appeared neglected, and as they got closer to the center, the sky turned from gray to muddy brown with approaching rain.

So much for a white Christmas, thought Harper, turning up the radio for a bit of festive cheer in the face of Atkinson’s persistent scrooge-like countenance.

They parked on the street outside the concrete-and-glass municipal building where Social Services was housed, and were soon shown into an interview room by a woman in an ill-fitting suit who said her name was Belinda Sumpter.

“I spoke to you on the phone, didn’t I?” said Jo.

“That’s right. Diane’s the one who dealt with the case in question. She won’t be long. She’s just locating her notes. I’ll let her know you’re here.”