‘I don’t think it’s anything to do with not being local. You live in Oakham. Can’t get much more local than that.’

‘Not originally, though. I’m from London. I’m an outsider. Places like this aren’t ever going to accept people like me.’

Dexter turned in his seat. ‘Okay. First of all, I’m not local either and I’ve never had any issues.’

‘You’re from Leicester, Dex. That’s local enough.’

‘Yeah, and have you seen the colour of my skin? If people round here were that “anti-local”, they’d have lynched me by now. Besides which, there’s no such thing as local. Hardly anyone in Rutland is “local”. It’s a proper melting pot of accents and backgrounds. People move here from all over the place. Anyone “local” tends to have moved out years ago for silly little things like, you know, actual jobs.’

‘Leaving only the retired folk to come here and treat it as God’s waiting room, complete with their disdain for anyone else wanting to make the same move they did, you mean?’

Dexter turned away and looked out his window. ‘I’ve seen no evidence of that, and I’ve been working here a lot longer than you.’

‘All I can say is what I see.’

‘Yeah, exactly. Me too.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Go on. Tell me,’ Caroline said.

‘It’s nothing to do with the people round here. They’re fine. It’s just… It’s a different way of life. It’s friendlier.’

‘I’m friendly. I can do friendly.’

‘By London standards? Yeah, maybe. But friendly by London standards is not deliberately walking into people in the street, or gently closing the door on a stranger instead of slamming it in their face.’

‘Okay, now we’re in the realms of silliness, Dex.’

‘We’re not. We’re really not. I’m just being honest. I know these people. I know the area. And you’re just too… Londony. I know you don’t do it on purpose, and it’s not even necessarily a bad thing. It just doesn’t work round here. You come across as cold and standoffish. I know you’re not. I know it’s just where you’ve come from. But maybe it means you need to adapt a little for the area. You keep pointing out to everyone how different things are round here, and making sweeping assumptions about the way things are and the way they must be because it’s “that sort of place”. It sounds rude. Rutland’s a really bloody friendly place, if you actually allow yourself to integrate.’

‘Right,’ Caroline said, turning the car into the car park of the police station. ‘Well, that’s certainly put me in my place.’