18

My first job of the day is in Lesser Worthington, a village in a valley five miles inland from Bidecombe where the air stands still and so does the life of its two dozen or so inhabitants. No one knows what happened to Greater Worthington.

I’m still seething after my exchange with Lowe. I don’t know why. Lowe’s attitude should come as no surprise. Of course, he backed Holt and Shirwell. Cops stick together. I’m just a ‘civvie’. I was never sworn in to the office of constable and with that comes a lingering suspicion I can’t be trusted. No point going to the Superintendent either. I’d be wasting my breath. He and Lowe were probationers together back in the day – bonded by night shifts and an unbreakable understanding they’ll always have each other’s back. Screw them all.

Penny’s text arrives just as I park outside a bungalow on the road leading into the village, bringing with it a welcome chance to think about something else.

I’m so nervous.

You’ll be fine. Enjoy yourself.

I must admit I was surprised to return from my walk last night to find an excitable Penny on my doorstep. Our conversation the other night made an impression because she had finally texted Ringo and agreed to go on a date with him. Clearly not a man to let the grass grow under his feet or let Penny change her mind, he suggested they meet today at a pub on the edge of Three Brethren Woods, just outside Barnston. I asked her what changed her mind and she said that she couldn’t live her life in fear and, besides, they were having a late lunch in a busy pub so what was the worst that could happen? I hugged her.

My phone buzzes with another text.

I wish I’d dyed my hair. Grey is so aging.

I picture Penny sighing at her hair in the mirror.

Grey is the new blonde.

Do you think the feathers will put him off?

If they do, he’s clearly not the one for you. Be yourself.

How about tie-dye? Too casual for a first date? What about my Sgt Pepper T-shirt?

Wear what feels comfortable.

What if he’s really ugly?

I tap the laughing emoji.

He won’t be.

What if he’s a mad axeman?

This time Penny gets an eye-rolling emoji.

He’s isn’t. Just enjoy it. I’ve got to go. Speak to you tonight. You can tell me all about it. Have fun!

I envy her the thrill of the first date. At least she and Ringo already have a lot in common, even if that is the entire back catalogue of the Beatles. My Tinder dates are based on little more than a wish and a prayer, and I’m an atheist.

I collect my case from the back of my van. By the time I shut the door, I’m fully focused on the job ahead. Distraction burglaries are insidious, and we have more than our fair share. North Devon is retirementville, full of the elderly who’ve escaped the city to enjoy a pace more in step with their own, but, lulled by the open spaces and the seemingly open faces, they drop their guard, making them easy pickings for those that make a profession out of preying on them.

A wary ninety-year-old called Mrs Ellis opens the door to me, but her suspicions over who I am come too late. When I show her my ID, she expresses delight that there is such a thing as a female CSI and invites me in.

* * *

This is not good, not good at all. Trisha is having second thoughts. He checks his watch. Peter will be on his way by now and he needs to get going. They’re standing in front of a shop window and he’s almost blinded by the sparkly, sequined tops and satin skirts stretched over the hairless, dead-eyed dummies. It’s the kind of clothing that should only be seen on the ballroom floor, worn by a ten-year-old, not a fifteen stone, thirty-something paramedic. Obviously, he doesn’t say that to Trisha. He needs to be rid of her as quickly as possible, only she’s discovered she’s got a conscience after all.

‘I’m not sure about this. We’ve been pretty busy. What if a call comes in when I’m in the changing rooms?’

‘It won’t and if it does, I’ll come and get you.’

‘You’re always covering for me, Si. No, I’ve got plenty of clothes at home. I’ll wear what I wore on my date with Bill.’

‘OK, it’s entirely your call, but you’d look good in that one.’ He points at a gold Lycra top with black sequins in the shape of a heart.

She stares longingly at it. He doesn’t know why she’s pretending to care about her job.

‘It is nice, but I’ll leave it. Thanks, anyway.’

‘Sure, no problem. Let’s go then. I’m hungry.’ They amble back towards the ambulance. It’s obvious she wants to stay. He just needs to say the right thing. They reach the ambulance, and he lets out a chuckle.

‘What is it?’ she asks.

‘Nothing.’

‘You can’t laugh and then not tell me.’

‘I was just thinking it would be a bit weird if you end up marrying this guy, Snakebite, and you’ll always look back on your first date and think, Oh yeah, I wore that top I wore on my date with that idiot Bill from HR.’

She’s appalled by the idea.

‘Yeah, I guess when you put it like that, it doesn’t sound like I’m making much of an effort, does it? And I do really like him, you know.’

He unlocks the driver’s door. He wants her to think they’re leaving immediately, put her under pressure to make a decision.

‘I know. I just want you to make a really good impression on this guy, that’s all. If you’re OK wearing a top you wore on another date, then that’s fine. Let’s hope you don’t call him Bill by accident.’

As he opens the door, Trisha glances back at the sequined top in the shop window.

‘Actually, are you absolutely sure you don’t mind?’

‘Yes, I’m sure. I’m just going to park up in our usual spot, eat my sandwiches and then come back for you. To be honest with you, I could do with a bit of peace and quiet,’ he jokes.

She grins.

‘I do your head in sometimes, don’t I?’

‘No, no, not at all.’ He says this in a way that suggests the opposite.

She laughs.

‘Soz, I can’t help it. I’m one of seven kids. I’m not good with silence or being on my own. Are you sure you’re OK with this?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you promise you won’t tell Colin. He already thinks I’m a slacker.’

‘I promise. I’ll pick you up in two hours.’

‘Thanks, Simon. I’ve got a good feeling about this one.’

‘Me too.’