Carol reached the end of the possible choices from her wardrobe and closed the double doors. She walked around her bedroom, stroking the familiar objects on her dressing table and bookshelves as if the action of her fingers would imprint them on her memory, accessible whenever she needed to touch base with who she really was. She paused in front of three photograph frames that faced her bed. Michael, his arm around the woman he’d been living with for the past two years, his expression open and delighted. Her parents at their silver wedding party, her mother’s head on her father’s shoulder, a look of indulgent affection on her face; her father, looking directly into the camera, his familiar quirky smile lifting the corners of his eyes. And finally, a snatched snapshot of her with Tony and John Brandon, her former boss, taken at the police party that had celebrated the resolution of the first case they’d worked together. They all had the slightly bleary look of people who were heading towards drunk but hadn’t quite got there yet.

Her reverie was interrupted by the rude blurt of the entryphone buzzer. Carol frowned. She wasn’t expecting anyone. She walked through to the living room and grabbed the handset. ‘Hello?’ she said.

Through the crackle of static she heard a tinny voice say, ‘Carol? It’s me. Tony.’ She held the phone away from her ear, staring at it as if it were an unfamiliar artefact. Her free hand automatically moved to the door release button while she tried to get her head round what she’d just heard. Like a sleepwalker, she replaced the handset and crossed to open her front door. Outside the excellent soundproofing of her flat, she could hear the whine of the lift machinery.

The lift door slid open and she tensed herself for the familiar jolt that came with the sight of him. The harsh lighting bleached his skin tones to wood ash, turning him monochrome. Then Tony stepped forward and recovered his humanity. His hair had been cut since she’d seen him last, she noted as he walked towards her, looking unusually pleased with himself. ‘I hope this isn’t a bad time,’ he said.

Carol stepped back and waved him in. ‘What are you doing here?’ she said, unable to suppress the laugh bubbling under her voice.

Tony walked in, touching her gently on the elbow and leaning forward to give her a chaste kiss on the cheek. ‘Forgive me if I seem presumptuous, but you sounded on the phone like a woman who could use a little moral support. And from what I know of you, I didn’t imagine you would be opening yourself up enough to be getting it anywhere else.’ He spread his hands out in a gesture of munificence. ‘So, here I am.’

‘But … shouldn’t you be at work? How did you get here? When did you get here?’