‘I’m sorry,’ Jaq said, and this time she did look up and gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘People always feel sorry for victims of crime and their families, but there’s precious little sympathy for the families of perpetrators. Sometimes with good reason, but often they are victims too.

‘They suffer a double shock. First because of what their relative did, and second, the revulsion and ostracism from those around them. So I can understand why you live the way you live. But if it helps, you have a friend in me, and I’m not just saying that because you have helped me out.’

‘Thank you... I guess.’

It was strange to hear a member of the police force call him a friend. It didn’t feel right — too soon. Then again, he wasn’t accustomed to making friends, so he had no idea when you could start calling a person a friend. Simon wondered whether it would be possible to push her away, even if he wanted to. It seemed unlikely.

‘No really,’ Jaq said with a smile. ‘After all, we’ve met three times socially and this is our second time over takeaways. I’d say we’re getting on well. Test me, ask a friend related question.’

Simon had no idea what that was supposed to be and thought her assessment was far too optimistic. Still, there was something he was curious about.

‘I’ve been wondering about your name. Is it like Jack the Ripper?’

‘Like Jaqueline, except I never liked that name, too girly. Have some broccoli. I promise it won’t kill you.’

Simon obediently put a couple of florets of broccoli on his plate and mixed them into his rice. Whether he’d eat them was still to be determined. Then he glanced back at Jaq, absorbed in her food again. Or just good at looking that way.

What was it she’d said, though? Oh yeah, she ate when she was stressed. She must be really stressed, judging by the way she was tucking in. He didn’t want to know the reason and instead manfully crunched into one of the pieces of broccoli. It was not his favourite vegetable, but this one wasn’t too bad since the garlic, ginger and sesame oil they had fried it in obscured its flavour.

‘How was your holiday?’

‘Just what I needed. A caravan practically on the beach, lots of walks, lots of sunbathing. The weather was perfect for a change, and long chats over a glass of wine with Ellen.’

‘Your sister?’

‘Yep. Her husband stayed home to look after my nephew, and it was nice to have her to myself. Otherwise, her attention is always divided.’

‘Mmm,’ Simon said and stuffed another piece of broccoli into his mouth to prevent having to say more on a subject he had no knowledge about.

‘You’d have liked the skies. It became our tradition to sit on the porch of the caravan with a glass of wine and watch the sun gently sink beneath the sea. The way the clouds lit up was spectacular. The sea looked amazing too. I think you’d have liked to paint it,’ Jaq said, waving her chopsticks to encompass his cloud paintings. ‘Unless you only do clouds.’

‘Do you think just painting clouds is boring?’

‘I meant no offence.’

‘I’ve never seen the sea,’ Simon said, and it took some effort to confess this.

He expected Jaq’s reaction. It was the same reason he’d stopped saying things like this to his colleagues.

‘Seriously, you’ve never been to the sea? You, who lives only an hour’s train ride away from the sea in two directions, have never seen it.’

Simon nodded. ‘I’d want to see it before I tried to paint it.’

‘But, I mean, you could use photos or even video. I mean, you know what the sea looks like, don’t you?’

‘Of course. But unless I experience it for myself, it would feel fake trying to paint it.’

‘Fake? I don’t get it.’

‘It’s okay. I don’t expect you to understand.’

‘Why? Because I’m just a thick copper?’

Simon was taken aback.

‘Because you’re not a painter, that’s all.’

‘Ah, sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m tired and it’s making me grumpy.’

Simon nodded and, for a change, kept his eyes on Jaq. He hardly knew her, which didn’t match what he knew about friends. How did one get to know somebody? He was pretty sure he’d never tried to do that before with anyone.

‘You can explain cloud paintings to me another time. I have a feeling it’s too technical for my tired brain to cope with today,’ Jaq said with an apologetic smile. ‘What else can we talk about? Books. I notice you don’t have any in this very elegant flat of yours.’

Simon threw back his head with a sigh and gazed at the roof, wondering whether he should just ask Jaq to leave. She was stressful at the best of times, but a tired and pushy Jaq was harder, especially when he had to figure out where she was going with her questions.

‘I’m not very good at reading. When I got to the young offenders’ institution, they did some tests and discovered I have dyslexia.’

‘Really? That thing where you can’t read and write very well?’

‘Yeah. Reading is a struggle. It’s very tiring, so I mostly get my information from videos and I watch films and box sets for my entertainment.’

‘But your handwriting is so beautiful. How is that possible?’

‘I get around writing by thinking of it as drawing. What you saw wasn’t actually my handwriting, just my drawing of Kushan Script. It’s one of my favourite fonts. If I draw that, it’s neat. If I try to write in my own style, it’s a mess.’

‘Wow, that’s amazing. So they didn’t sort out your reading and writing at school?’

‘I didn’t go to school.’

Jaq’s surprised expression turned to one of deep thought, and then she nodded.

‘I’m sorry, again. In fairness, you can ask me absolutely any question you like about me.’

‘Why do you keep coming here?’

Simon feared it was too rude, and too sudden, but it was the only thing he truly wanted to know.

‘Oh,’ Jaq said with a half sigh, half laugh as she put the chopsticks down and gave him the first embarrassed look Simon had seen from her. ‘I’m not sure I’ve worked that out for myself yet, either.’

‘Ah,’ Simon said and, since he couldn’t think of a followup question, he picked another piece of broccoli out of the container and put it in his mouth.

The sound of him crunching his way through it was painfully loud in the silent room. He didn’t dare look up to see what Jaq was thinking but watched her chopsticks hover over the tubs laid out on the table, picking a mouthful of noodles and then a blob of turnip slice.

‘What about Rob?’ Simon asked, surprising himself that he was curious about Jaq’s relationship with the man.

‘What about him?’ Jaq said with a mysterious smile. ‘Do you not go after women who are already taken?’

Simon gasped and sat back, cursing his unruly mouth.

‘That’s not…’

How could he say it wasn’t what he meant, or that he’d never coveted any woman before, taken or otherwise?

‘What do you think of Rob?’ Jaq asked, back to picking at her food.

‘He’s a good salesman.’

‘So he keeps telling me, but that’s a very neutral comment. Does that mean you don’t like him?’

Simon shrugged. He hadn’t considered the question before.

‘He’s a bit… boastful.’

‘Irritatingly so. And just in case you’ve got the wrong idea, there is nothing going on between me and Rob.’

Maybe Jaq was telling the truth about that, but Simon wondered whether Rob would agree and also why Jaq was telling him that. He realised she’d laid her chopsticks down across her plate and was yawning prodigiously. She hastily covered her hand with her mouth, blinking back the tears of sleep.

‘Sorry about that. It’s been a long, hard week.’

‘How long of a break were you going to take?’

Jaq shrugged. ‘Three, four hours. Just not long enough to be able to go home.’

‘Why not?’

‘I live too far away. It’s an hour long commute, the joys of living in London. I bought my place when it was still affordable and I worked locally. Then I got transferred and I can’t afford to sell and move, so I’m stuck with the commute.’

Simon nodded. At least his commute to work was only half an hour. That made him the envy of most of the people in the office.

‘And you said you wanted to ask me something,’ Simon said because, despite trying not to think about it, he was curious.

‘Ah yes. The thing is, my current case, without going into detail, is about school violence. The team has the feeling there’s more to it than kids breaking into gangs. There’s a level of sophistication that’s surprising even for older high schoolers. So I was wondering if you think there might be someone behind it. Like with Chazza.’

‘Are they linked in some way?’ Simon asked, although with the level of information he’d been given, it was the vaguest of guesses.

‘Same neighbourhood.’

Simon shook his head, trying to think how best to explain.

He took a deep breath and said, ‘Gregory Black used a mixture of indoctrination, coaxing and threats to make me to follow his lead. He had such control, I could hardly think for myself. What I saw with Chazza, just for an instant, was that same look of confusion. As if he couldn’t pin down where things were going wrong. If the whole thing had been his plan, he wouldn’t have looked as lost.’

‘So you think an adult is behind this? Somebody close to these kids?’

‘How would I know? With the internet they could control them from anywhere.’

‘Mmm, not to this degree. I have a feeling you’d need much closer contact to control what’s going on here,’ Jaq said and yawned so widely her eyes squeezed shut. ‘God, I’m tired.’

‘Can’t you take a nap?’

‘Ha, my options are under my desk or the men’s changing room, because the ladies’ is currently being renovated and is covered in plaster dust.’

‘Oh,’ Simon said, and his pulse quickened at the immediate solution that occurred. The offer hovered on the tip of his tongue, wrestling with ongoing indecision. ‘You can nap on my sofa if you like.’

Jaq paused mid stretch and blinked at him.

‘Really?’

‘It wouldn’t be the first time.’

‘Yeah,’ Jaq said and had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry about that.’

Simon shrugged and went to fetch the fleece he’d given her before from the entrance hall cupboard.

‘Thanks,’ Jaq said, giving him a brilliant smile as she took it. ‘I hope you’re not offended if I go to sleep now?’

‘No, of course…’ Simon said, gave her an uncertain nod and watched as she first set up an alarm on her phone, then wrapped herself in the fleece and rolled over so that she was facing the back of the sofa.

Simon gathered up the uneaten food and the dirty plates and, working as quietly as possible, washed the dishes. Then he tiptoed to his room, glancing at a lightly snoring Jaq, and killed some time watching videos in bed. A couple of hours later, he heard the creak of his front door, and then a clunk as it shut again. Jaq had left, and Simon could finally fall asleep.

In the morning Simon found a bright yellow post it on the fridge door.

Thanks for letting me kip at yours. I can’t tell you how grateful I was.

Finish the damn leftovers, you skinny man.

Jaq xx