It had been four days since their second date and Harri hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. They’d stood at the top of the hill for ages, holding each other, kissing, and she’d wanted him to make love to her. He’d wanted it too. She’d sensed his passion building, but neither of them had given in to desire, and after the sun had touched the horizon, they’d walked back to their cars, kissed, and parted with an agreement to meet again.

She’d counted the seconds, and Sabih had teased her for acting like a love-struck teen, but she didn’t care. This was what she’d been searching for. A soul to complete her. Someone whose very existence made her feel more alive. If he didn’t ask her back to his place, she would invite him to hers. Kisses would not be enough this time. Today, she planned to find out whether their physical connection was as powerful as their emotional bond.

Harri saw Ben when she reached the top of the wooden staircase that connected the beer garden with the terrace. He was sitting at a table for two, tucked in the corner, behind the door to the pub. She smiled broadly, and her empty stomach lurched with excitement. He hadn’t seen her, so she could afford to grin like a fool, and she had good reason to. Meeting someone wasn’t easy. Her police work meant long, unsociable hours, and she was often grouchy or despairing as a result of the things she witnessed on the job. It was hard to stay cheerful in the aftermath of a serious road traffic accident, or following an interview with a hospitalized victim of domestic abuse. She’d had a patchy love life in London, a string of meandering relationships that took winding routes to dead ends, so she was overjoyed to have found someone who was so perfect.

Ben caught sight of her as she reached the top of the stairs, and instead of trying to play it cool, her smile broadened. She felt sufficiently safe with him to be herself, her silly, love-struck self. If this date went well, she had no doubt they’d be together, and the thought of what might be at stake filled her belly with more butterflies than she’d experienced as an excitable seven-year-old on a snowy Christmas Eve.

Ben smiled in reply, but there was something feeble and insincere about it, and Harri felt more sadness than joy. She was gripped by a sudden panic and talons of anxiety wrapped themselves around her spine and weakened her legs as she crossed the deck. She’d been so sure he felt the same way about her, but what if he just wasn’t that keen? Had he met someone else? Was he secretly married? These and other painful thoughts clawed at her as she approached the table like a condemned prisoner.

‘You know what’s coming, don’t you?’ he remarked.

He didn’t even bother standing. The kind, attentive, warm man had been replaced by a sullen, distant figure. He was right. Everything about him – his withdrawn demeanour, false smile and coolness – told her what to expect, and her eyes brimmed as she sat down.