The inner doors swished open, and the first thing Porter saw was the almost-white hair of the man pushing the wheelchair. Alan Simmons was looking down at his daughter, talking softly to her as he wheeled her through. Eve Simmons’s head was bowed forward, hair in a loose ponytail, stray strands wafting either side of her face as she left the safety of the doorway. With her light grey cargo pants and navy blue hoodie, she could just have easily been off for a jog in the park, although Porter guessed it’d still be a while before she was up to anything like that.

They bore right, Alan Simmons positioning the chair next to a wooden bench, and started fishing in his pocket for car keys. Porter was practically next to her before she noticed him, squinting up as he approached. She still had a dressing over the wound on her face, but the swelling had all but subsided. The make-up she wore couldn’t quite hide the dark circles under her eyes. She’d been unconscious for a big chunk of the several weeks she’d been in hospital, but it had been anything but restful. He guessed she was a good half a stone lighter. There hadn’t been much on her to lose in the first place, and it made her look a little gaunt, but when she smiled in recognition, that didn’t seem to matter.

‘Fancy seeing you here,’ he said, hands in pockets, making as if he just happened to be strolling past.

‘Afternoon, guv.’ A wisp of hair tickled her nose, and Simmons lifted a hand to tuck her it behind her ear.

‘Mr Simmons.’ Porter nodded a greeting to her dad.

‘Ah, Detective Porter. Hello again. We were just about to head home.’

‘Yes, sorry. I won’t keep you. I just wanted to pop by and make sure you were OK.’ He looked down at Simmons as he spoke.

‘No, no. I didn’t mean it like that,’ said Alan Simmons. ‘Actually, would you mind waiting with Evie while I grab the car?’ He held up the keys to emphasise his point.

‘Of course,’ said Porter, and Alan Simmons nodded his thanks, hurrying off in search of his car.

Porter looked down at Simmons, feeling more than a little self-conscious towering over her, and took a seat on the bench next to her chair instead. ‘So I’ll see you back at work tomorrow, then?’

She touched a finger to the dressing on her face. ‘Think I might wait till I don’t scare the others, if that’s alright.’ She sounded so tired, and a little hoarse, but managed another smile.

‘I’d say you don’t look too bad, considering what you’ve gone through.’

‘Not too bad, eh? That’s the best compliment I’ve had in years.’