‘Mainly clichés. Twinkling Christmas lights, the waves when the weather is just starting to change. I used to sit on my parents’ back porch and watch the sea for hours. Now it’s just more of the same.’

She paused for a moment, trying to do the question justice. Baarda kept his silence where most would have felt the need to fill the space. She respected the fact that he was able not to. In her opinion, men could be measured by such minuscule but enormous details.

‘The sparkle of a ruby. The endless shades of green on a single tree. Seeing images of earth from space, and viewing our tiny place in the universe in all its breathtaking beauty. When I was a child, my parents took me to visit the Grand Canyon. I’d been given my first camera. I was maybe ten. Anyway, I was going through an artistic phase, so every photo I took was in black and white. My parents had my favourite shot blown up, framed, and I must have fallen asleep staring at that image through most of my puberty. And God, I wish I’d taken a colour photo. That’s my only memory of the Canyon. That goddamned black-and-white photo. One of the most beautiful places in the world and I have no memory of it in colour. That’s irony worthy of a poem, right?’

‘I’d miss seeing the light shine off my red setter’s coat,’ Baarda said.

Connie laughed. ‘That’s a great image. What’s its name?’

‘His name’s Tupperware. We made the mistake of letting my then four-year-old daughter name him, and that was her favourite word at that time. But a promise is a promise. The more we tried to persuade her to choose something more … well, doggy, the more intractable she became.’

‘Oh my God, you have to chase a red setter around the park shouting Tupperware? That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard.’

‘I don’t get home to see him – or the kids – as much as I’d like at the moment.’ His voice dipped.

‘Why not?’

‘Oh, you know, life gets in the way.’

‘That’s bullshit. Life gets in the way of golf or visits to the in-laws or trips to the chiropractor, but home literally is a person’s life. What could get in the way of that?’

He shrugged. ‘My wife’s currently having an affair. She’s been perfectly honest about it. No attempt to cover it up, which I appreciate. I felt it was easier to give her some space while she figures out what she wants.’

Connie didn’t miss a beat. ‘Do you still love her?’

‘I believe so,’ he said.

‘Do you know who she’s having an affair with?’

‘One of the other officers from Met Ops. Makes it all a bit awkward. Probably the reason everyone was so pleased when I got packed off up here.’