‘Freya, if you could follow up on the serial number on the freezer,’ he says, passing her the piece of paper. ‘Mina—’

‘Is going to pump,’ Mina interrupts, pointing to her boobs. Josh’s face goes red.

‘And I’m going to get some lunch,’ Freya adds, walking away before her acting boss can make his objections.

Freya heads up to the top floor to buy a sandwich, then back down to the parking level to sit in her car. She has no wish to eat in the canteen, with all the bustle and people wanting to make conversation. In the past, she enjoyed her lunch breaks. Sitting with the other DCs, laughing along with the banter, but for a while now she hasn’t felt a part of it. She knows the moment it stopped: when Jonathan died. When the murder of the man she loved dragged her into a world of deception and hate. And guilt.

It’s something she can’t talk about, and something her colleagues wouldn’t understand. Her conscientious, hard-working teammates, with their 2.4 children and long-suffering spouses.

Only Robin knows the full extent of what she’s been through. And without him here today, she feels strange. For eight months he’s been her buffer. They never speak about the events of last October, but she knows implicitly that he has her back. A connection that goes beyond colleagues, or DS and DC.

Sitting in her car, she checks her phone. No response from Robin. She presses his number and listens to it ring, then cut to voicemail.

This is Robin Butler. Sorry I can’t take your call, please leave a message.

She listens to the recording, enjoying hearing his voice. The hesitation, the uncomfortable edge she’s come to know so well. He was there on that dark Friday night last year. He’s been through loss himself – the death of his parents, followed by the tragic killing of his sister and her children at the hands of a drunk driver. So why doesn’t she tell him how she’s feeling?

The dark, lonely nights staring at the ceiling. Scratchy eyes in the morning, her body weary and aching. She hasn’t slept well for a while now. She can’t concentrate, the guilt overwhelming her.

She alone made the fateful decision that night. Someone died because of something she did. That knowledge won’t go away. The self-hatred, the fear that someone will realise. She works every hour she can get her hands on just so she doesn’t have to sit in an empty house.

Nobody understands that better than Robin.

But now he isn’t here. Caught up in everything with Finn.