Sarah thought she was alone in the office for once, as her colleagues attended the 5 p.m. police press release. She wriggled her toes in her boots. Her hair was frizzy from the rain, her legs stiff from conducting door-to-door enquiries all afternoon. The residents of Lower Slayton were a strange and vulnerable breed. One middle-aged man had answered the door wearing nothing but a string vest and socks. Another old dear, her eyes cloudy with cataracts, let her all the way into her kitchen before asking where her Tesco grocery delivery was. Some residents were lonely and needed reassurance, but not one could shed light on Angelica Irving’s movements that night.

Sarah clicked on her emails, methodically deleting the ones she didn’t need. She didn’t see Richie looming over her, and she jumped as he cleared his throat. If he was going to take the piss, she wasn’t in the mood. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his skin tanned. Richie had a charming, easy-going way about him. Today, charisma would be lost on her. After what happened with Yvonne, she didn’t trust her colleagues an inch.

‘Yes?’ she said, stony-faced as she swivelled her chair to face him. Most likely he was used to Yvonne hanging on his every word. He rubbed his chin, taken aback.

‘I just wanted to say … It was out of order, what Yvonne did.’ He folded his arms, his brown eyes holding no malice. ‘That’s not how we do things here.’

‘Really?’ Sarah said. ‘Because it seems very much how you lot act. I’m not deaf, you know. I hear the snide comments. It hasn’t exactly been easy, coming back here after …’ She sighed. She’d had enough of raking over the embers of her past today.

Richie looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Gabby’s a decent sergeant but she’s not perfect. She’s good at handling caseloads, schedules … but she’s deficient when it comes to the emotional stuff.’

‘I gathered that.’ Sarah recalled how she had turned away to wipe a tear from her eye.

‘She should have welcomed you back, at the least. Reintroduced you to the team. It feels like unfinished business, you know. All that stuff with David …’

‘I had nothing to do with that.’ Her husband’s misdemeanours might not be a pleasant topic of conversation, but it felt good to clear the air. She returned her attention to her emails, but Richie was still standing there, with a stupid grin on his face. ‘You don’t remember me, do you?’

Sarah’s hands twitched with the urge to tug on her fringe. ‘Remember you? Why, should I?’