‘Whatever you need,’ he said, smiling in a way that made her a little uncomfortable.

He brushed past Imogen – she felt like he was making sure that some part of his body was in contact with some part of hers – before leading Caitlin Watts out of the room.

Imogen sat on the edge of the table and looked down at Adrian, who was watching the girl leave, not pulling his eyes away until she wasn’t there to look at any more. She thought it was funny how his perception of the situation in that room was so different to hers; she had been preoccupied with Jarvis, he had been preoccupied with Caitlin. He hadn’t even noticed her awkward interaction with the PC. She folded her arms, and her movement made him turn and see her looking at him, his face reddening, as though he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘She’s pretty,’ Imogen said.

‘No. That’s not what I was thinking.’ He tried to hide his smile.

‘Then what? You seemed to find it hard to look away.’

‘Don’t you think there’s something odd about her?’

‘I think there’s something odd about you,’ Imogen said.

‘Pot. Kettle.’

‘Do you think she’s telling the truth?’

‘Not even slightly,’ Adrian said. ‘I mean, the stuff about her grandad? She’s definitely lying, God knows what about. You know those people who just lie about everything? I think she’s one of those. They just can’t help themselves.’

‘You think she was trying to steal something?’

‘No idea. I don’t think we’ve seen the last of her, though,’ Adrian said, still staring at the door long after Caitlin had been taken through it.

‘I’m sure you’re devastated about that.’ Imogen raised her eyebrows.

‘I’m not the one who’s into suspects,’ he said.

‘Touché,’ Imogen said, unsure whether to take offence or not. But she was uncomfortable having Dean and Adrian in the same headspace these days. She noted a hint of something whenever the subject came up between them, which was thankfully a rare occurrence. Was Adrian jealous? It certainly felt like it sometimes. Maybe she was paranoid, maybe it was wishful thinking. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

‘You didn’t tell me how your mum’s funeral went,’ Adrian said, cutting into her thoughts.

‘It went. It was tough. Glad it’s over.’

‘Was your father there?’

‘Still can’t get used to calling him that, but yes, Elias was there,’ she said, pulling the door open; she wasn’t in the mood for talking about herself right now. If she opened up to Adrian, she might start crying and never stop. She wasn’t sure she was ready for Adrian to see her like that just yet; she wanted him to think of her as strong.

As they left the interview room, they saw Denise walking towards them in the hall. There seemed to be some discomfort between her and Adrian, as they avoided eye contact. Workplace relationships rarely worked out, unless you were lucky enough to find ‘the one’ – an ideal Imogen wasn’t entirely sure she believed in. Most of the time, though, all that was left after the intimacy was resentment and embarrassment. Imogen promised herself she would never put herself in that situation again, which of course meant it was absolutely inevitable.