‘Or if you’re sick of me.’ She threw her coat onto the banisters. ‘The future is often far more complicated than we expect, so how about we take every day as it comes.’ She waved a hand up the stairs. ‘There are two bedrooms. Worst-case scenario, we become friends rather than lovers and stay flatmates. I’ve considered taking in a lodger more than once.’ She hadn’t, never needing the money and liking her own space. Sharing with a lover – the intimacy spreading outward from the bedroom so that each meeting, on the stairway, in the bathroom or kitchen, was a reason to touch and kiss – that was a different matter.

Flynn was having doubts, strangely she had none at all.

Flynn went off to work on Monday morning, leaving Jodie curled up under the duvet. She had five empty days ahead of her before she started her new job. She’d laughed at the happy coincidence that her first weekend working was the same one that Flynn worked.

She lay daydreaming for a long time, her thoughts lingering on Flynn but bouncing now and then to Victor despite attempts to relegate him to the furthest, deepest crevice of her mind. Plus, there was the issue of the NMC investigation.

Once that came into her head, she threw the duvet back and got up. Anyway, she had to make space for Flynn and his huge collection of clothes. That thought made her chuckle but a short while later she was frowning. The house was small and she simply didn’t have enough storage space. They’d have to get another wardrobe and squeeze it in somehow. She eyed the free wall in her bedroom – maybe something along there? For the moment, she improvised, taking some clothes she rarely wore, folding them into a suitcase and shoving that under the bed. It made some space but not nearly enough for all that Flynn had.

After 9am, she reached for the phone and rang Rivka’s mobile. ‘You free for lunch?’

‘I’m off today,’ her friend said sleepily. ‘So that would be a yes. Usual place?’

‘Perfect. At 12.30?’

‘Great, see you there.’ The phone went dead.

Jodie spent the next couple of hours rearranging things to make space for Flynn, humming to herself, feeling happier than she had in a while. Not even the occasional invading thought of Victor made a dent in her good mood.

The ring of the doorbell made her frown. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Quietly, she slipped the safety chain in place, opened the door and peered out.

‘Ms Armstrong, it’s PC Robert Doyle.’

Of course, they had promised to keep her informed about the investigation. She shut the door, removed the chain and pulled it open. ‘Hi, come in,’ she said. He was alone. Across the road she could see his partner had chosen to remain in the squad car. It wasn’t going to be a long visit.