As the lion turned tail and slunk off, one night a call came.

‘I’ve had enough of this game, Melissa,’ he murmured, sitting by the wood fire in the tiny pub in Old Town. ‘My game. I’m tired of it now.’

The wind had been up again that afternoon, howling across the great wide sands, chasing itself like a frantic child. But we were inside, warm and safe.

‘Your game?’ But the picture had been clearing since I’d heard about Bill’s arrest. The careful, watchful state of Fin all that time on the square; turning up in the woods; the screwdriver in the pocket in Nella’s bathroom. ‘So you weren’t actually working for that silly cow’s old man – and you’re not a builder at all?’

‘I was.’ He grinned, his teeth terribly white. ‘I’m grand with a drill and a hammer. And I worked awful hard for Dream Homes, I’ll have you know.’

‘I see.’ I stared into the fire for a moment. ‘But really, you were working with the police?’ I’d never trusted the Old Bill; I had no reason to, growing up where I had. And yet, somehow, I trusted Fin. ‘That’s why you were in the woods that night – you were following that stupid man?’

‘I was the police, darlin’.’ He looked at me, inscrutable, not a flicker in the piercing eyes, and I knew that to ask more now was pushing my luck.

‘So’ – I took the risk – ‘when I saw you in Nella’s bathroom at the party that night—’

‘That night when you were misbehaving yourself, you mean?’

‘Oh.’ I blushed. ‘I’m not proud of that.’ I listened to the gentle hiss of the burning logs, sensing he was waiting for me to continue. ‘I was in a really bad place. A really bad—’

‘A really bad marriage?’ he interrupted, and his voice was almost tender, and it made me want to squirm. ‘Yeah, I got that.’

‘I know you did,’ I said gratefully. ‘I don’t, I mean, I won’t be doing it again.’

‘Marriage?’ He scrutinised my face.

‘No.’ I blushed even more hotly. ‘The – drugs, the drink. I really – I don’t fancy it anymore.’ Unconsciously, I laid a protective hand on my belly. ‘Not now. I was just so – I was really sad all the time.’

‘I’m not surprised. Your man there was an arsehole.’

‘You could say that. And he’s most definitely not my man anywhere.’

‘Sure and I’m glad for you, doll.’ We grinned at each other. ‘Glad you’ve got out. And I have too. I won’t be doing the policing anymore.’

‘No?’

‘No.’ He put his drink down and looked into the fire. ‘I enjoyed it while it lasted, but it takes its toll. All that creeping about. All the hours and hours of surveillance; cooped up in vans or stinking old houses, bored out of my mind.’

‘Were you surveilling then?’ I was intrigued. ‘Sounds exciting.’

‘It’s not, but aye, that’s what you nearly caught me doing that night. Training a camera on the back of Bill’s house. It’s pretty dull most of the time, and if it’s not,’ he sighed quietly, ‘it’s a bit too hair-raising. Plus’ – he shrugged – ‘impossible to put down any roots.’