‘He did,’ said Quill, ‘during that case, and it was where he normally was in Hell that made me think of getting to a higher vantage point.’

‘—but,’ she said, ‘he’s meant to bring hope in autumn too.’ She shrugged, slowly. ‘So there’s that.’

Sefton wanted to go over there and hold her. But the shape of her shoulders said she really didn’t want to be held.

*   *   *

As soon as Quill told them they could go home and get some more sleep, to report back next week, Ross bolted for the door. Costain went after her. He couldn’t help it. He could feel the other two willing him not to, but he couldn’t stop himself.

He caught up with her before she got to her car. A muscle memory of how she’d felt made him put a hand on her shoulder.

She rounded on him, disgust on her face. He took his hand away. ‘I just want you to know—’

‘I sacrificed my happiness so I could free my father. Or maybe Jimmy. Maybe I’d have made that choice. You took it from me.’

‘I could have used it to protect myself!’

‘You brought him back because you got scared. You did everything to save yourself and keep fucking me for as long as possible.’

‘No! Listen to me. If you got your dad back, nothing would change for you, that wouldn’t make you happy!’

‘That was my choice to make.’ She took a moment to hold herself back. ‘You think you’re going to Hell. I’m in Hell. I won’t forgive you.’

She went to her car and drove away.

Costain watched her go. He understood what he’d done. He had been surprised by a chance at happiness. He had stamped that chance into the ground until it was dead, and all the time he’d said to himself he was doing the right thing, the only thing.

‘I know,’ he said.

*   *   *

Rebecca Lofthouse wasn’t entirely surprised when one morning a different but equally beautiful young woman rang her doorbell, refused to identify herself and announced she was here to drive Lofthouse to a picnic. She’d spent the last few days explaining to Forrest, and to many other incredulous parties in the Met, how Quill could still be alive. She’d told them his team had faked his death in order for him to go undercover, the details of which she would not share. It was only the fact that Quill obviously was alive that allowed her to get away with such a thin deception.

The picnic turned out to be by the Thames, down Henley way, in a meadow so perfect that Lofthouse wondered if it had been constructed for this purpose. Rita and Sue sat with a hamper and an ice bucket containing a bottle of champagne. Lofthouse felt they hardly needed the ice. There was a slight chill in the air, and the shadows were getting longer, but summer had not yet ended. There were still a couple of rounds of the County Championship left to play. Another group of picnickers sat at a distance, obediently picking at caviar. The beautiful driver went to join them.