‘No,’ he said gruffly. ‘Not after everything that’s happened.’

‘Okay,’ she said, still dying to get all the facts.

‘So I’ve come to a decision.’ He knocked his knuckles on the wood. ‘Miranda’s moving on, she’s made that clear, and I’ve decided I’ve had enough of moping about in a hotel. I’ve got to get on with my own life.’

‘Quite right.’ She gave his wrist a squeeze. ‘You really should.’

He took his phone from a pocket. ‘But it’s been so long since I’ve been on a date.’

‘A date?’ she asked in surprise. ‘Do you think that’s what you really need right now?’

‘At my age, it’s not likely I’m even going to meet anyone socially.’ She watched him prod at the screen with his thick fingers and swipe open an app. She didn’t like the way the conversation was heading, not at all.

‘If there’s anything I can do,’ she said, trying to distract him from the phone. ‘You know you can ask me, or if it would help to talk to a chap, I’m sure Kev would be willing to chat.’

‘That’s very kind, but I thought I’d try this.’ He held up the phone so she could see the screen. ‘What do you think of these women?’

He was showing her a dating app, holding it in front of her face. Sasha tried to disguise her discomfort. She wanted to tell Vaughn that it wasn’t really appropriate for her to help her boss, her DCI, choose a potential partner to ask on a date. But he looked so crestfallen, so hurt by recent events, that she didn’t want to embarrass him further. She gulped down a mouthful of Pinot to gather her thoughts.

‘What do you think?’ Vaughn showed her a photo of a middle-aged woman, and her profile. ‘Does she look fun?’

Sasha cleared her throat. ‘I don’t think—’

‘You have to swipe left,’ he said.

But then the door to the bar opened and her sister flounced in. Despite the heat, Connie was wearing a heavy leopard-print coat over a wrap dress patterned with yellow flowers, which accentuated the curves of her hourglass figure. The long toes of her wide feet dropped over the front of her white flip-flops. Her broad, ruddy face was red and filmed with sweat from rushing about in the evening sun. Con lifted a large pair of Jackie Os to reveal her pale green eyes, shoving the glasses hard into the dirty roots of her long, bleached-blonde hair.

‘You wouldn’t believe how long it’s taken me to get here,’ she said irritably, and thumped an old tan handbag, which looked as heavy as an anvil, onto the table. ‘You’re lucky I came.’

Vaughn quickly slipped his phone back in his pocket and stood to hold out his hand. ‘DCI Vaughn.’

‘Vaughn.’ Connie held her hand just out of his reach so that he was obliged to lean closer, then slipped her fingers into his and held them for several moments too long. Sasha felt a spike of anxiety already. This was exactly the kind of situation she wanted to avoid with her flirtatious sister. ‘That’s a nice name. Very masculine. Vaughn what?’