Simon finally helped himself to some food. The intense smell had made his mouth water, even though he didn’t feel like eating. Spooning the rice and curry onto his plate gave him something to do, though.

‘Try the naan bread. It’s delicious,’ Jaq said as she tore a strip of naan apart with her fingers, dipped it in the red curry and popped it into her mouth. ‘I know you don’t want to talk about work, but can I ask you a couple of things about those two boys, Chazza and Miles?’

‘Okay,’ Simon said, wondering whether Jaq had looked into the thing he’d mentioned at the wedding.

‘Why did you write the question down on paper? Why didn’t you just ask them to tell you where Brad Davis was?’

Ah, a more basic question than he’d expected but an easy enough one to answer.

‘You’d been asking them the same thing all day, hadn’t you?’

‘Of course, and it didn’t work, which was why we landed up begging you for help.’

‘So if I’d asked them in the same way, they’d have told me the same thing they’d been saying to you. In fact, Miles did, drawing those dicks all over the paper.’

‘Yeah, he’s a proper little shit, that one. But Chazza told you.’

Simon nodded and ran his fork through the rice, sectioning off a mouthful sized portion.

‘I changed the medium.’

‘Huh?’

‘I do it with our clients sometimes. When we land up going round and round a brief and we can’t find common ground, I change the way we’re working to get a different solution. Usually we’ve been talking and putting down bullet points, so I break out the coloured pencils and ask them to draw what they want, or I give them some clay and let them play with it while we talk. It sometimes breaks down a mental barrier and helps people see a new perspective.’

‘And that’s what you tried with the kids.’

‘I also told Chazza he had a choice, to stay with his mum or get away from her. I didn’t know which he would take.’

‘Seems he thought she was the better option.’

‘Although they’ll land up being tried now that you know what they did to Brad, won’t they?’

‘Most likely. He was beaten so badly he was put in a coma, and they’d tied him up in the scout hut, so he couldn’t have got away. It was brutal. I think you were right about Miles, too. He’s a tricky little so and so.’

Simon nodded and pushed the rice he’d sectioned off into his pool of yellow curry and started blending it.

‘Then my second question,’ Jaq said, tearing off another strip of naan. ‘That thing Gazza said about being told he’d be okay as a minor... Was that what made you think somebody else was involved?’

So finally they’d come to it and he sighed, wishing he’d not said anything at all. Why did he get involved or even spend a second of his time, even considering it?

‘It was probably nothing. Just a gut feeling from the way the kid spoke.’

‘How he spoke, not what he said?’

‘He seemed frightened, but only for a second before he went back to pretending all was okay.’

Jaq nodded, looking thoughtful, which surprised Simon. He’d expected to be dismissed out of hand. After all, his vague suspicion was hardly worth mentioning.

‘It isn’t what you want to talk about, is it?’ Jaq said. ‘Me neither, really. So let’s change the subject. Are you going anywhere nice for your holidays?’

Simon’s first instinct was to tell Jaq that it was none of her business. It felt like she was trying to dig information out of him. Then he remembered that people’s number one topic of conversational at the office was their up coming summer holidays.

‘I haven’t made any plans yet. I usually take a break after the schools go back.’

‘Ah yes, the pleasures of not having to plan holidays around kids,’ Jaq said. ‘It’s one of the few benefits of being single and child free.’

She was watching him now with the universal expression Simon had learned indicated that she’d actually only asked about his holiday so she could talk about hers. He’d been terrible at conversation when he’d finally made it into the outside world, but he’d at least learned that when people asked this kind of question, it was polite to reciprocate.

‘What are you planning for your holidays?’

The beaming smile Jaq gave him informed Simon that he’d been right.

‘Assuming we don’t have a case drop into our laps, I’m going to Cornwall. I can’t wait. It will just be me and my sis—’

Jaq stopped so abruptly it made Simon look up from the contemplation of the mess of blended curries and rice he’d made on his plate.

‘Sorry,’ Jaq said, flashing him an embarrassed smile. ‘I tend to be careful about what I tell people about my family, what with being a detective. The fewer people who know about them, the better.’

‘That’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.’

Simon wasn’t that keen to know, really. It might make Jaq think he was more interested than he actually was.

‘Well, I know all about you, even the bits you want hidden, so I suppose it’s okay. And you’ve probably guessed already, anyway. I’m going on holiday with my sister. In the past, I’d have gone on holiday with Sarah, but that’s not really going to be possible anymore. Not unless I can convince her to take a couple of short weekend breaks. But it won’t be the same. Do you go on holiday with other people?’

‘No.’

‘Group holidays?’

‘Not that either.’

‘So you go on holiday on your own?’

This was becoming too intrusive and Simon was reluctant to say more.

‘I usually just stay home and paint.’

Jaq’s expression was the same as he used to get from his colleagues, so nowadays he lied to them about his holidays.

‘Jesus. Do you have any friends at all?’

‘Are you feeling sorry for me?’ Simon said and his chest constricted with gathering anger. ‘Because you don’t need to be. I’m perfectly content with my life.’

‘All the same… no man’s an island and all that.’

‘I am happier now than I have ever been,’ Simon said, and it was the truth.

‘Have you ever even left London?’

‘I went to Sarah’s wedding.’

‘Oh, and that was so far. A two-hour drive into darkest Kent,’ Jaq said with heavy sarcasm. ‘Have you ever left the country? Or even, wow, do you even have a passport?’

Simon didn’t, but he was damned if he’d say so.

‘Tell me more about your family,’ he said with a challenge in his eye. ‘Do you have any other siblings?’

The advantage of talking to a cop was that they were good at reading people, so now Jaq accepted that she’d pushed him too far.

‘Aside from my sister, the lawyer, I have a younger brother who’s a musician. My mom’s a teaching assistant and my dad’s a car salesman. We were all born and brought up in Croydon and my parents still live there.’

Jaq tilted her head as if to say, there you are, anything else?

‘Oh,’ was all Simon could come up with.

So he took a larger than intended mouthful of curry and chewed it meditatively as he dropped his gaze to the container of bright red sauce covering lumps of tandoori chicken.

‘Sorry, again. I really didn’t come to fight.’ Jaq heaved a tremendous sigh, stretched her arms above her and looked around blearily. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got a spare bedroom, have you?’

‘What? No.’ Was this woman seriously inviting herself over? Her brass neck astonished Simon.

‘Sorry, just kidding,’ Jaq said. ‘I would never do that. Although, at times like this when my body feels like a lump of lead, I wish teleportation existed and someone could zap me home in an instant.’

‘Just finish your food and go.’

Simon jumped up and started tidying away the dishes and the remains of the food. He was aware that Jaq was watching him, but too worried about what she might say next to look at her. Instead, he took all the dishes to the sink and started washing up, which kept his back to her. All the while he prayed Jaq would take the hint. But there was no sound of a chair being pushed back or anything else to indicate that she had left.

Finally, he’d done all he could and turned around, steeling himself to tell Jaq to bugger off. But his resolve and rehearsed words evaporated. She’d fallen asleep, her head resting on her arms that were draped over the dining room table.

‘Shit,’ Simon muttered. ‘This again.’

So he fetched the fleece he’d used on her last time, draped it over Jaq’s shoulders and went to his room. It was going to be another sleepless night. Simon double checked that his surveillance system was working. He closed the door to his room and contemplated locking it but didn’t. She was already inside his house, after all. Then he lay on his bed, flipped open his iPad, launched Netflix, and started on a new box set.

***

Her stiff neck finally became so uncomfortable that Jaq opened her eyes to discover that she’d fallen asleep at the dining room table. God, this would require another apology. She hadn’t meant to do it since it was clear Simon had been uncomfortable with her presence.

Simon had left a light on and she looked up at the clock. It was one in the morning. It was too late to catch the tube and she couldn’t face tracking down a night bus, nor did she want the expense of a taxi, especially when just getting her ass off this chair felt like too much effort.

She looked around blearily, spotted the sofa and stood up and the fleece, that she hadn’t noticed draped about her shoulders, fell to the floor. Simon again. He was surprisingly considerate for somebody who wasn’t thrilled to have her around. It had hurt when he’d told her to go home. Ah well, time enough to think about that later.

For now, Jaq retrieved the fleece, trundled over to the sofa, kicked off her shoes, plumped one cushion while sweeping the rest onto the floor, curled into a foetal position and went back to sleep.

***

Jaq slept longer than she’d intended but woke feeling stiff, mashed into the upright of the sofa. She rolled around to find the sun shining into a vaguely familiar room. It was amazing how, with the light pouring through a floor to ceiling window softened by a diaphanous white curtains, the whole place looked very different.

She wondered where she’d put her bag so she could check her phone, then realised she could see the clock from here too. It was just past nine thirty. Damn, but she must have been tired. She wasn’t particularly comfortable now either. Mid-century furniture might be elegant, but it didn’t have much padding.

Jaq groaned as she pushed herself up and then stretched to work out the kinks in her body. As she did so, she noticed the easel on the opposite side of the room with a large canvas propped up on it. She strolled over and discovered it was a half-finished rendition of a towering cumulonimbus cloud. So Simon was the one who’d painted all the sky pictures hanging on the walls, huh? He had talent.

Where was he, though? The bedroom door was shut, but considering the hour… Then again, it was Saturday, so maybe he was in bed. Jaq tapped on the door but got no response. Either he was asleep, or he was avoiding her, or he’d gone out. Did it matter which was correct?

She considered opening the door, but decided against it. She had a feeling he wouldn’t hide in his room. He’d been pretty up front about telling her to go home. He was more likely to come out and hurry her away than wait for her to leave. Ah well, hopefully he had all she required for a cup of tea in that spartan kitchen of his. Then she’d get out of his hair.

She made her way over to the kitchen and spotted a bright yellow post-it note attached to her bag lying centred on the dining room table.

You can have the curry if you want breakfast, the note read in Simon’s extraordinarily neat cursive. Please return the house key as you did last time.

Simon

Well, he’d signed it. Jaq supposed that was progress. Progress? Why did she want progress? From this man who she couldn’t quite trust. Then again, for someone she didn’t trust, she’d been oddly willing to sleep at his place. If he was dangerous, it was a foolish thing to do. So why had she done it twice already?

This was a question that she needed to discuss with a friend. Sarah, perhaps? She fished out her phone and sent a text.

Do you fancy brunch, or is wedded bliss going to keep you from me?

Seconds later, her phone pinged.

I’m already a rugby widow. Brunch sounds perfect.