That kind of thinking had been one of Banks’s big problems with the whole sixties thing; he thought it was the mark of a brain softened by too much marijuana or LSD. In their long arguments about changing the system, Jem had always taken the view that you can’t change the system from within; if you’re in it, you become part of it; you become absorbed and corrupted by it. You end up with a stake in it. Maybe that was what had happened to Banks, but even back then he had never felt fully able to join in, especially with phony let’s-all-love-one-another togetherness. Annie was right; he was a loner. He had always kept his distance, even from Jem. Maybe if he hadn’t, Jem might not have died.

Annie stirred and Banks ran his hand slowly all the way from her hip to her shoulder.

“Mmm…” she murmured. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

“I see you’re awake.”

“Have been for hours.”

“You poor man. You should have got up, made some tea.”

“I’m not complaining.” Banks hooked his arm over her side and rested his palm on her stomach, easing her closer. He kissed the soft flesh between her shoulder and neck, then slid his hand up to cup her small breast. Last night he had discovered that she had a tiny red rose tattoo just above her left breast, and he found it incredibly sexy. He had never slept with a tattooed lady before. Annie sighed and pushed herself farther back toward him; curved bodies molding to one another, skin touching everywhere it could touch.

Banks forgot about Jem now. He touched Annie’s shoulder gently to turn her toward him.

“No,” she whispered. “Like this is just fine.”

And it was.

“The other night,” said Gloria the next time I saw her alone. “At the Christmas party. I want to thank you. If you hadn’t come along, I don’t know what would have happened. I just don’t want you to think it was something it wasn’t.”

“I don’t know what I think it was,” I said. I felt embarrassed, her talking to me like this. Cold, too. We were in the High Street and the icy wind whistled through my old coat as if it were full of holes. Which it probably was. I pulled the collar up over my throat and felt my bare hands freezing around the handles of the shopping bag. Foolishly, I had forgotten my mittens.

“I was just going to the toilet,” she said, “and he followed me out there. Mark did. I know I’d had a bit too much to drink. I didn’t mean to, but I suppose I might have given him some encouragement. He called me a tease, said I’d been leading him on all night. Things just got a bit out of hand, that’s all.”

“What do you mean?” I started shifting from foot to foot, hoping the movement would keep me warm. Gloria didn’t seem to feel the cold at all. Still, the land girls were provided with warm khaki overcoats.

“Earlier in the evening,” she went on. “He got me under the mistletoe. Everyone was doing it. I didn’t think anything of it but… Gwen?” She chewed on her lower lip.

“What?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Men. Sometimes, it’s just… I don’t know what it is, you try to be nice to them, but they get the wrong idea.”

“Wrong idea?”

“Yes. I was only being friendly. Like I am with everyone. I didn’t do anything to make him believe I was that kind of girl. Men sometimes get the wrong impression about me. I don’t know why. It seems like they just can’t stop themselves. They’re so strong. And believe it or not, sometimes it’s easier just to give in.”

“Is that what you were doing? Giving in?”

“No. I was struggling. I was trying to call for Matt, for anyone, to help me but Mark had his hand over my mouth. Maybe before, I would have given in. I don’t know. But now I’ve got Matt. I love him, Gwen, I didn’t want to cause a fuss, get Matt upset, start trouble. I hate violence. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come along. I didn’t have much fight left in me. Do you know what I mean?”

“I think so,” I said. I had given up on ever getting warm now. Luckily, I was so numb I couldn’t feel the cold anymore.

“Can we just forget about it?” Gloria pleaded.

I nodded. “That’s probably for the best.”

She gave me a hug. “Good. And we’re still friends, Gwen?”

“Of course.”

After Banks had gone, Annie did her usual twenty minutes of meditation, followed by a few yoga exercises and a shower. As she dried herself, her skin tingled and she realized how good she felt. Last night had been worth the risk. And this morning. That celibacy business wasn’t all it was cracked up to be anyway.

They definitely needed more practice. Banks was a little reticent, a bit conservative. That was only to be expected, Annie thought, after twenty or more years of marriage to the same woman. She thought back to her lovemaking with Rob, and how natural they had become. Even when they had been apart for a year or two, they had picked up the rhythm again without any trouble when they got together in Exeter.

How could so many people have read Banks wrong? she wondered. Gossip distorts the truth, certainly, but to such an extent? Perhaps he was the empty canvas people used to project their fantasies onto. Whatever he was, she hoped he wasn’t the kind who felt a moral obligation to fall in love just because he slept with a woman. When it came right down to it, she hadn’t a clue what she wanted from the relationship, if indeed there was to be a relationship. She wanted to see more of him, yes; she wanted to sleep with him again, yes; but beyond that, she didn’t know. Still, maybe it would be nice if he did fall a little bit in love with her. Just a little bit.

Most of all, she hoped to hell that he wouldn’t regret what they had done for her sake, wouldn’t feel that he had taken advantage of her vulnerability or her tipsiness, or any of that male rubbish. As for the career business, surely he couldn’t imagine she had only slept with him because he was her boss or because she was after advancement? Annie laughed as she pulled on her jeans. Sleeping with DCI Banks was hardly likely to advance anyone’s career these days. Probably quite the opposite.

For the moment, another beautiful summer’s day beckoned, and it was a great luxury not to have to make any more serious choices than whether to go do her washing or drive to Harrogate and go shopping. She liked Harrogate town center; it was compact and manageable. The cottage needed a tidy-up, true. But that could wait. Annie didn’t mind a little mess; as usual, there were far more interesting things to do than housework. She could put the washing in before she went; there wasn’t much.

Before going anywhere, though, she picked up the phone and dialed a number she knew by heart.

It rang six times before a man’s voice answered.

“Ray?”

“Annie? Is that you?”

“Yes.”

“How are you doing, my love? What’s happening? Having fun?”

“You certainly sound as if you are.”

“We’re having a bit of a party for Julie.”

Annie could hear laughter and music in the background. Some retro sixties rock like the Grateful Dead or the Jefferson Airplane. “But it’s only ten o’clock in the morning,” she said.

“Is it? Oh, well, you know how it goes, love. Carpe diem and all that.”

“Dad, when are you going to grow up? For crying out loud, you’re fifty-two years old. Haven’t you realized yet that we’re in the nineties, not the sixties?”

“Uh-oh. I can tell you’re angry at me. You only call me Dad when you’re angry at me. What have I done now?”

Annie laughed. “Nothing,” she said. “Really. You’re incorrigible. I give up. But one day the police will come and bust the lot of you, mark my words. It’ll be bloody embarrassing for me. How am I supposed to explain that to my boss? My father, the dope-smoking old hippie?”

“Police? They’re not interested in a couple of teeny-weeny joints, are they? At least they shouldn’t be. Ought to have better things to do. And a bit less of the ‘old,’ thank you very much. Anyway, how is my little WPC Plod? Getting any, lately?”