The ladies’ toilets were mercifully empty. There were just four cubicles in the windowless space, available only to police station staff. A roof fan whirred limply as it sucked out stale air. It smelt permanently of sweet ‘seasonal berries’ which squirted from its automatic dispenser every thirty minutes without fail. Sitting on the lid of the toilet, Sarah grabbed some tissue from the dispenser and blotted away her tears. She hated that she cried when she was embarrassed. You’d think that she’d be used to it by now. She tried to recount the rules she’d set herself but found she couldn’t remember them. Oh yeah, she recalled, act normal. It seemed that ship had sailed. Thanks to Yvonne shooting her mouth off, everyone knew why she’d been placed on restricted duties to begin with.

She heard the main door creak open and sighed. Three knocks on the cubicle followed. ‘Occupied,’ she said. The tips of a man’s leather shoes came into view.

‘It’s me.’ Richie’s voice echoed from the other side of the door.

Silence.

‘Are you OK?’

‘What are you doing in here?’

‘Asking if you’re OK.’

Quietly, Sarah wiped her nose.

‘She went too far. She shouldn’t have brought that stuff up.’

Sarah sniffed. ‘Maybe she’s right. I keep getting it wrong. I’m not cut out for this.’

‘Don’t play into her hands. It’s exactly what she wants.’

‘I still talk to him, you know,’ Sarah said. ‘Despite everything that’s happened … I know he’s dead. But it was so hard, the way he went. I needed to have it out with him, so I found myself shouting at thin air.’

‘No judgement here,’ Richie said. ‘We all do what we can to get by.’

‘Then after a while, I’d hear him in my head, imagining what he would say.’ She shook her head. ‘You must think I’m crazy.’

‘Not me,’ Richie replied. ‘I talk to toilet cubicle doors.’

Sarah gave him a watery smile as she unlocked the door and came out. The truth was, she hadn’t heard David’s imaginary voice since she told him to go. She hated herself for missing it. How messed-up was that?

‘Why are you being so nice to me?’

‘Because if anyone deserves a little bit of TLC, it’s you.’ He looked at her earnestly. ‘I saw you joined the Facebook group. What do you think?’

‘Everyone seems nice …’ Sarah brushed past him to the sink. ‘If a little obsessed.’ She washed her hands robotically, even though she hadn’t used the loo.

‘You know there are officers in Blackhall Manor now, searching?’ He looked at her curiously. ‘The crawlspace … there’s more than one.’