Back at her empty flat, Jessica stomped around, slammed a few doors and generally took her aggression out on as many inanimate objects as were to hand. Or foot. At first, she’d had vague visions of somehow stumbling across Nigel Collins on the street outside her door.

It was ridiculous, of course, she didn’t even know what he looked like. But perhaps he had some sort of scar or something? Maybe he wore a big sign around his neck with his name on, or a large top hat with neon flashing lights and a giant arrow? She knew it wasn’t going to happen but thought how good it would be to find him that night before the SCD could take the case away. Then she could march in tomorrow morning, past the reporters, photographers and TV cameras and plonk Nigel Collins down in reception and give a big, collective middle finger to anyone who had doubted her. Of course, given she was the person who doubted herself the most, that middle finger would be as much for her as anyone else.

As her irrational fantasies got more and more out of hand while Jessica sat on the sofa stewing, she heard the front door go. ‘Hi?’

‘Oh hi,’ Caroline’s voice called out. ‘You’re home.’

Randall was with her too but Jessica didn’t mind. For once she actually felt like some company. After saying their hellos and some brief small talk, Caroline said she would cook for them all. Jessica hadn’t eaten all day and wasn’t particularly hungry but her friend said she didn’t mind if there were leftovers. Jessica shifted over to the recliner and they all ate off their laps, watching some soap opera on television that none of them apparently followed. Jessica would have had anything on TV that wasn’t the news. The food was good, some sort of rice dish, and they laughed together at a preposterous story twist involving a long lost uncle, while she tried to forget about events at work. It must have been clear she wasn’t in the mood to talk about it as neither Caroline nor Randall asked her how the day had gone.

After they had eaten, the two women did the dishes while Randall joked he was exempt from kitchen duties. ‘A woman’s place . . .’ was all he said with a grin. Caroline bashed him around the head with her hand and told him that, in that case, he should be out skinning a bear or something similar to provide for them.

They shared a bottle of wine as they lounged in the living room when everything had been tidied away.

‘Jess, can we talk for a minute?’ Caroline said softly.

Jessica knew from the tone it would be something serious but she wasn’t ready to listen to things straight away. ‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’

Jessica and Randall laughed but Caroline peered down and started stroking her belly. ‘No, why, have I put on weight?’

‘Well, I didn’t want to say anything . . .’ Jessica said.

‘Oi! Cheeky.’

They all laughed but, when the mood had settled, Caroline tried again. ‘Seriously, can we talk for a minute?’ The two girls looked at each other and Jessica knew what was coming. ‘Randall quit his job today. He’s been offered an apprenticeship with a design company in the city.’

‘That’s great, congratulations,’ Jessica said, looking across to the man on their sofa. He had a small grin on his face.

‘That’s not all though. We had been talking about it but, when he got the news, he went out and put a deposit down on a flat we’re going to rent while we look to buy somewhere. We want to know we can live together before we make too big a splash.’

Jessica had known it was coming but still felt something in her stomach. It was an odd feeling. She was delighted for her friend but there was a part of her that selfishly wanted them to stay living together until Jessica herself had found someone.

‘I’m so pleased for you both,’ Jessica said, getting up from her seat to hug the pair of them. ‘You make a great couple.’

‘Is it really okay?’ Caroline asked.

‘Of course.’ As she finished hugging Randall, Jessica also gave him a playful smack on the head. ‘But none of this “Get in the kitchen” malarkey, yeah?’

They all laughed again but Jessica had to force it as she sat back down.

‘We’re not going straight away,’ Caroline said. ‘We’ve got a month so we are going to move things in bit by bit.’

‘So I’ve got to put up with your dodgy cooking for another four weeks?’

‘I’m afraid so, yes.’

‘So it’s all marriage, kids, the works then?’

‘Get out of it. Not yet.’

Caroline and Randall snuggled closer on the sofa and Jessica strongly suspected the ‘not yet’ part was critical. Looking at them, she didn’t think it would take long. ‘The big question is what does his mum make of you?’ Jessica said. ‘There’s got to be a bit of competition there now for his attention. You’re going to be the tart who stole her precious little boy away.’

‘Mum and Dad live abroad,’ Randall said. ‘I reckon they’d be big fans though.’

The wine bottle was empty so Caroline sent her boyfriend off to the kitchen to get another. ‘And get used to waiting on me hand and foot,’ she called after him. They heard the toilet door go while they were waiting.

‘Are you sure you’re going to be okay?’ Caroline asked.

‘Of course. I’m a big girl and all that.’

‘Are you going to stay here?’

‘I don’t know. Probably. I can afford the rent on my own. It’s close to work, which helps.’

‘Maybe you can get some fish for company?’ Caroline had a mischievous look on her face.

‘Yeah, right. I don’t think I’d trust myself to look after some other living creature.’ She remembered the stuffed chicken from Hugo’s house, thinking that was just about her limit.

‘Is everything okay with . . . the case?’

Jessica didn’t want to get into things, so just nodded. ‘Yeah, it’s fine.’

Jessica felt like a condemned woman on the drive to work the next morning. Rain was lashing down which at least meant the full press pack wouldn’t be outside the station’s gates in such force. ‘Journalists,’ she said to no one in particular while driving, ‘a group of people on a never-ending quest for the truth . . . unless it’s pissing down and then the truth can go bugger itself.’

There were a few people outside the gates but nothing like the day before. She weaved in between a couple of television cameras and made sure that the car shielded her from any unwanted long camera shots when she parked up. Even though she felt sure the case was going to be taken from her, she had still spent the morning watching the news. The tragic story of Nigel Collins was everywhere, while the link had obviously been made to the three young men who were going to be in court that morning and the one who was already in jail. Jessica realised that was probably why the throngs outside the gate had thinned so much – everyone was at the magistrates’ court instead.

She first went upstairs but Aylesbury saw her through his office window and waved her away. He was on the phone and most likely deciding her future. She returned to reception and spent a few moments watching the rolling news on the mounted television. There were some outside shots of the courts but nothing much was happening. There was still some presenter talking frantically as the drizzle poured in shot behind him. ‘Just go indoors,’ she said quietly.

Jessica grabbed a copy of the Herald from the reception desk and disappeared off to her office. Reynolds wasn’t around, so she took off her shoes and leant back into her chair to read it. The front page was a given so she flicked straight past that but inside Garry Ashford had another background piece, this time with Paul Keegan.

It was labelled as an exclusive and Jessica couldn’t help but be impressed that the journalist had managed to get both Kim Hogan and Paul Keegan to speak to him in successive days. He hadn’t phoned her since she’d told him not to and, in some ways, she felt a bit sorry about that. As annoying as he was, his phone call after each find had almost been the proverbial kick she needed to get things moving properly. It also allowed her to blow off some steam with some choice words too, of course.