"Why were you there?"
He almost whispered the words, dreading the answer but at the same time knowing it couldn't be as bad as the thoughts rattling around in his head.
"You think I might have… that I could—"
"No! No, of course I don't." He shook his head, looking at her unblinkingly. "I don't think you have that in you, even when you're at your darkest."
She stared at him intently, her expression a mixture of frustration and indignation, but it softened, presumably as a result of his sincerity.
"But why were you there?"
She broke away from his gaze then, rubbing her cheeks with her palms.
"You wouldn't tell Tamara," he said, his eyes narrowing.
"I thought you weren't on the case?" she snapped back. Her avoidance of the question hurt him. He shook his head.
"I'm not." He took a deep breath, staring straight ahead. "But I need to know the answer to the question." Alice hardened, scowling at him. "If you won't tell Tamara, you should at least tell me."
Alice pushed off from her resting place, crossing the kitchen and making to leave.
"Don't walk away from me!" he said. She stopped, standing in the middle of the kitchen but refusing to look at him. His anger was rising, borne from frustration. He knew then that she wasn't going to answer the question. He forced his voice into a calm and neutral tone. "I've been advised to… step away for a while."
"Step away?"
"From us," he said, feeling a knot tighten in his chest as he spoke.
Alice gasped. It was almost inaudible, but when he looked at her he saw the hard edge of her demeanour dissipate to be replaced by despair.
"I… I…" she stammered, trying to regain her composure. She turned to face him, fists balled and at her side. The scowl returned. "Just like that, you're going to leave?"
"I didn't say that—"
"But you don't believe I killed him? That's what you said."
"I don't!"
"And what will it look like when you leave me? Have you thought about that?"
He sighed, scratching absently at the side of his head. "It could look just as bad if I stay, too."
He looked up at her, meeting her eye, seeing the emotion threatening to burst out. She made to speak, but the words didn't come. Instead, she folded her arms defensively across her chest and closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her thoughts.
"Work called this morning," she said quietly. They've suggested I take some annual leave. Seemingly, the relatives of some of the patients are concerned about me caring for them."
Tom took a deep breath, reading the pain in her voice.
"Are you going to?"
"I got the distinct impression it wasn't optional."
He put his head in his hands, feeling the beginnings of a stress headache manifest. He didn't know what to say. There were so many questions in his head. So many fears. While his compassion for her only grew, so did the gnawing realisation that she was keeping something from him. He wouldn't like it, that was evident. Otherwise she would tell him. The internal conflict delayed his response, which was terminal for the conversation.
"Leave your key on the table on your way out," she said, her voice cracking as she turned and strode purposefully from the kitchen.
"Alice!" he said, but it was too late. She was gone.
Placing the flats of his hands across mouth and nose, he closed his eyes, feeling the pressure of the enormity of the conversation. Should he leave? Right now, it felt like he had little choice. Rising slowly, he caught sight of the dog lying on the floor in the corner, head on his paws, watching Tom. He wasn't in his bed. He appeared to be cringing.
Tom made his way upstairs. Alice was nowhere to be seen. He figured she was in with Saffy. Gathering a few items of clothing, he packed them into a gym bag. A lot of his stuff was still on the boat, so he didn't need to take much. It felt wrong, like he was betraying both Alice and Saffy by deserting them when they needed him most. But then there was Alice's intransigence. Was that fair? What was she keeping from him? Until he knew, he couldn't consider staying, even if she wanted him to.
Stepping back out onto the landing, he stopped outside Saffy's bedroom door. It was ajar, the shifting colours of Saffy's fibre optic night-light punctuating the darkness beyond. He reached for the handle, hesitating and then withdrawing from it. Instead, he made his way back downstairs and into the kitchen. Finding Alice's notepad, he tore out a page and scribbled a brief note explaining that he was going to his boat and he would call her tomorrow. Removing the front door key from his ring, he placed it on the table next to the note. Picking up the pen once more, he added, I love you at the foot of the paper.
Russell whined and he glanced over at the dog, forcing a smile before picking up his bag and heading for the front door. The terrier followed. At the foot of the stairs, the dog turned from him and placed one paw on the bottom tread. With the front door open, Tom looked back. The dog inclined his head, then looked up the stairs. Tom felt he was being judged.
"You as well, huh?"
The dog looked away and trotted upstairs, disappearing into Saffy's bedroom. Tom stepped out into the darkness and gently closed the door behind him. He walked to his car and just as he was about to unlock it, he heard someone call out.
"Oi, Janssen!"
Tom was startled, looking around for the source of the voice. A bulb flashed and a grinning man appeared from behind the camera.
"Nice one!" he said cheerfully, offering a thumbs-up before turning and hurrying away.
Tom cursed under his breath, slinging his bag onto the back seat and getting
