He could see the back of Jenny Fuller’s house, too, facing The Green. Sometimes he worried about Jenny. She didn’t seem to have much going in her life apart from her work. She had joked about her bad relationships yesterday, but Banks had witnessed some of them, and they were no joke. He remembered the shock, disappointment and – yes – jealousy he had felt some years ago when he went to interrogate a loser called Dennis Osmond and saw Jenny poke her head around his bedroom door, hair in disarray, a thin dressing gown slipping off her shoulders. He had also listened as she spilled out her woes over the unfaithful Randy. Jenny picked losers, cheats and generally unsuitable partners time after time. The sad thing was, she knew it, but it happened anyway.

Annie was fifteen minutes late, which was unlike her, and she lacked the usual spring in her step. When she got herself a drink and joined Banks at the table, he could tell she was upset.

“Rough day?” he asked.

“You can say that again.”

Banks felt that he could have had a better one, too. Sandra’s letter he could have done without, for a start. And while Candy’s information was interesting, it was maddeningly lacking in the hard evidence he needed if he was to track down Lucy Payne and arrest her for anything other than curb-crawling. That was the trouble; the odd things that trickled in – Lucy’s childhood, the satanic stuff in Alderthorpe, Kathleen Murray’s murder, and now Candy’s statement – were all disturbing and suggestive of more serious problems, but ultimately, as AC Hartnell had already pointed out, they added up to nothing.

“Anything in particular?” he asked.

“I just arrested Janet Taylor.”

“Let me guess: the Hadleigh verdict?”

“Yes. It seems everyone knew about it except me. The CPS wants justice to be seen to be done. It’s just bloody politics, that’s all.”

“Often is.”

Annie gave him a sour look. “I know that, but it doesn’t help.”

“They’ll make a deal with her.”

Annie told him what Janet had just said.

“Should be an interesting trial, then. What did Chambers have to say?”

“He doesn’t give a damn. He’s just marking time till he gets his pension. I’m through with Complaints and Discipline. Soon as there’s an opening in CID, I’m back.”

“And we’d be happy to have you, as soon as there is,” said Banks, smiling.

“Look, Alan,” Annie said, looking at the view through the window, “there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

Just as he’d thought. He lit a cigarette. “Okay. What is it?”

“It’s just that… I don’t know… this isn’t working out. You and me. I think we should ease off. Cool it. That’s all.”

“You want to end our relationship?”

“Not end it. Just change its focus, that’s all. We can still be friends.”

“I don’t know what to say, Annie. What’s brought this on?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t just expect me to believe you suddenly decided for no apparent reason to chuck me.”

“I’m not chucking you. I told you. Things are just changing.”

“Okay. Are we going to continue going out for romantic dinners, to galleries and concerts together?”

“No.”

“Are we going to continue sleeping together?”

“No.”

“Then what, precisely, are we going to do together?”

“Be friends. You know, at work. Be supportive and stuff.”

“I’m already supportive and stuff. Why can’t I be supportive and stuff and still sleep with you?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, Alan. Sleeping with you. The sex. You know that.”

“I thought I did. Maybe you’re just a damn good actress.”

Annie winced and swigged some beer. “That’s not fair. I don’t deserve that. This isn’t easy for me, you know.”

“Then why are you doing it? You know it’s more than sex with us, anyway.”

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t. Is it because of that conversation we had the other night? I wasn’t trying to suggest that we should have children. That’s the last thing I’d want right now.”

“I know. It wasn’t that.”

“Was it to do with the miscarriage, what I told you I felt?”

“Christ, no. Maybe. Look, okay, I’ll admit it threw me, but not in the way you think.”

“In what way, then?”

Annie paused, clearly uncomfortable, shifted in her chair and faced away from him, her voice low. “It just made me think about things I’d rather not think about. That’s all.”

“What things?”

“Do you have to know everything?”

“Annie, I care about you. That’s why I’m asking.”

She ran her fingers through her hair, turned her eyes on him and shook her head. “After the rape,” she said, “over two years ago, well… he hadn’t… the one who did it hadn’t… Shit, this is more difficult than I thought.”

Banks felt understanding dawn on him. “You got pregnant. That’s what you’re telling me, right? That’s why this whole business with Sandra is bothering you so much.”

Annie smiled thinly. “Perceptive of you.” She touched his hand and whispered, “Yes. I got pregnant.”

“And?”

Annie shrugged. “And I had an abortion. It wasn’t my best moment, but it wasn’t my worst. I didn’t feel guilty afterward. I didn’t feel much of anything, in fact. But all this… I don’t know… I just want to put it behind me, and being with you always seems to bring it all back, shove it right in my face.”

“Annie-”

“No. Let me finish. You’ve got too much baggage, Alan. Too much for me to handle. I thought it would get easier, go away, maybe, but it hasn’t. You can’t let it go. You’ll never let it go. Your marriage was such a big part of your life for so long that you can’t. You’re hurt and I can’t console you. I don’t do consoling well. Sometimes I just feel too overwhelmed by your life, your past, your problems, and all I want to do is crawl away and be on my own. I can’t get any breathing space.”

Banks stubbed out his cigarette and noticed his hand was shaking a little. “I didn’t know you felt like that.”

“Well, that’s why I’m telling you. I’m not good at commitment, at emotional closeness. Not yet, anyway. Maybe never. I don’t know, but it’s stifling me and scaring me.”

“Can’t we work it out?”

“I don’t want to work it out. I don’t have the energy. This is not what I need in my life right now. That’s the other reason.”

“What?”

“My career. This Janet Taylor fiasco aside, believe it or not, I do love police work and I do have an aptitude for it.”

“I know-”

“No, wait. Let me finish. What we’ve been doing is unprofessional. It’s hard for me to believe that half the station doesn’t already know what we’re up to in private. I’ve heard the sniggers behind my back. Certainly all my colleagues in CID and Complaints and Discipline know. I think Chambers was also dropping a hint when he warned me you were a ladies’ man. I wouldn’t be surprised if ACC McLaughlin knows, too.”

“Relationships on the job aren’t unusual, and they certainly aren’t illegal.”

“No, but they are seriously discouraged and frowned upon. I want to make chief inspector, Alan. Hell, I want to make superintendent, chief constable. Who knows? I’ve rediscovered my ambition.”

It was ironic, Banks thought, that Annie should rediscover her ambition just when he thought he had come to the limits of his. “And I’m standing in your way?”

“Not standing in my way. Distracting me. I don’t need any distractions.”

“All work and no play…”

“So I’ll be dull for a while. It’ll be a nice change.”

“So that’s it, then? Just like that? Over. The end. Because I’m human and I’ve got a past that sometimes rears its ugly head, and because you’ve decided you want to put more effort into your career, we stop seeing each other?”

“If you want to put it like that, yes.”

“What other way is there to put it?”

Annie hurried her pint. Banks could tell she wanted to leave. Damn it, though, he was hurt and angry and he wasn’t going to let her get off that easily.