Gibbs shook his head in despair. “Let me guess: you went back to the bar, picked up another woman who turned out to be even more psycho?”

“I didn’t go back to the bar,” Sellers corrected him. “I wish I had. As I was leaving the shelter, I bumped into someone. A young woman, really pretty. One of the other residents. She was in the kitchen. I walked past. We got chatting.”

“You don’t learn, do you?” said Gibbs. Then he thought about his own situation. “Don’t s’pose any of us do,” he said.

“I thought she liked me, and I just . . . I wanted to end the night on a high note. So I started flirting with her. Nothing too direct—I didn’t proposition her or anything, I was just seeing how far she’d let the flirty banter go, but . . . suddenly she turned really cold. Said if I didn’t fuck off, she’d ‘press the alarm.’ I tried to explain that I didn’t mean any harm and she started yelling in my face. Told me to go fuck a hornets’ nest and die.”

“That’s . . . extreme.” Gibbs stored the insult away for future use. It was a good one.

“All in all, one of the worst nights of my life.”

“When was this?”

“Weekend before last. I know I should forget it, get on with my life, but it’s shaken me up. I don’t feel the way I used to. Couple of nights ago, I was at the supermarket and I saw this gorgeous woman, on her own. I was on my own . . . I didn’t go anywhere near her. Couldn’t do it. Anyway . . . enough about me and my sad life. Have you taken the plunge yet?”

Gibbs raised his eyebrows as his heart started to beat faster. “You mean . . . ?”

“Not the plunge plunge, not the big one. I meant have you told Simon and Charlie?”

“Not yet. Liv was going to meet Charlie for a drink later and tell her, but then I had a message from her saying she’d changed her mind. So now we’ve moved to Plan B.”

“Which is?” Sellers asked.

“A relief,” said Gibbs. “Let’s face it, Charlie and Simon were always going to hate Plan A, weren’t they? I always thought telling them was a crazy idea.”

“So what’s Plan B?”

Gibbs was prevented from answering by the sudden appearance of PC Robbie Meakin, looking irritatingly cheerful as always.

“All right, Robbie,” said Sellers. “How goes it? Get us a round in, will you?”

“Yeah, all right, then. What you having?”

“Pint of Landlord.”

“Same,” said Gibbs.