He peers at his feet. His trousers are a tad too short, but they look cool on him, like a fashion statement. He’s wearing funky socks, yellow with little blue birds all over them. ‘I promised Finn we’d go out tonight. He wants to take me for a meal. He’s been working so hard lately. He’s meeting me at the Watershed at seven.’

I’ve met Finn a few times, and once the four of us went on a double date. Although he seems a lovely guy, he’s much quieter and more introverted than Jack. When we were out, Jack did the talking for both of them. He never left Jack’s side, and if Rory or I tried to engage him in conversation his eyes would search out Jack, as though willing him to intervene.

Since then Rory and I have tried to arrange another foursome but Finn always seems to have an excuse: he’s on shifts, he’s too tired, he’s ill. I worry that he doesn’t really like or approve of us. Or, rather, of me.

I pull my coat around myself. The rain is getting harder, running along the pavements and dribbling into the drains. ‘Please, Jack, just a quick one. I need someone to talk to. What about I meet you there first, straight after work? Don’t worry, I’ll make myself scarce as soon as Finn arrives.’

Jack looks up, his face softening. ‘Oh, go on, then, just a quick one.’ He winks at me. ‘You always get me into trouble.’

Chapter 13

13

Jess

My heart falls when I walk into the police station and see DCI Ruthgow standing behind the counter. He’s talking in a low voice to the duty officer: a middle-aged woman with a severe dark brown fringe.

I’ve only met Ruthgow once, at a police conference at the end of last year, although I’ve spoken to him numerous times on the phone, but he’s as I remember him – he always looks like he’s spent the night sleeping on his face. His craggy brows are threaded with grey, and he’s smartly dressed in a crisp dark suit. I imagine he’s the type of guy who wears aftershave and changes his shirt every day – unlike Ted, who can wear the same clothes for three days on the trot. When I reach the desk, recognition flickers across his face. ‘Jessica Fox?’ he says, in his deep, croaky voice.