We got name, address, date of birth and occupation (security consultant) out of the way while Richard brewed up. The constable looked utterly bewildered when Richard dumped the tray on my coffee table, announced that I was out of milk and wandered off into the conservatory. As Richard came back clutching half a bottle of milk, I put the young copper out of his misery.

The conservatory runs across the back of both houses,' I explained. 'That way, we don't get under each other's feet.'

'She means she gets out of washing my dishes and my socks,' Richard said, settling down on the couch beside me. I winced as he leaned into me, and he pulled away quickly. 'Sorry, Brannigan,' he added, stroking my good arm.

I outlined what had happened on Barton Bridge. I have to admit it was satisfying to see both Richard and the copper turn pale as I gave them the details. 'And then the fire brigade arrived and cut me free. Just about the time I should have been eating my first crispy prawn wonton,' I added, for Richard's benefit.

The constable cleared his throat. 'Did you see the driver of the van at all, miss?'

'No. I wasn't paying attention till it was too late. Far as I was concerned, it was just a van overtaking me.'

'And did the van have any identification?'

'There was something, but I couldn't see what. It was higher than the top of my window. I could just catch the bottom couple of inches. And I didn't get his number, either. I was too occupied with the thought of plunging into the Ship Canal. I mean, have you seen the state of the water in there?'

The constable looked even greener. He took a deep breath. 'And was it your impression that this was a deliberate attempt to run you off the road?'

The $64,000 question. I tried to look innocent. It wasn't that I felt like being a hero and sorting it all out myself. I just couldn't cope with a long interrogation right then. Besides, that would mean giving them the kind of confidential client information that we're supposed to guard with our lives, and I couldn't do that without consulting Bill. 'Officer, I can't imagine why anyone would want to do that,' I said. 'I mean, this is Manchester, not LA. I suppose I was in the guy's blind spot. If he was tired, or he'd had a few too many on the way home from work, he probably didn't even register I was there. Then when he hit me, he panicked, especially if he'd had a drink. I don't think it's anything more sinister than that.'

He fell for it. 'Right.' He closed his notebook and got to his feet, replacing his helmet. 'I'm really sorry to have bothered you when you weren't feeling too good. But we want to catch this joker, and we had to see what you could tell us that might help.”

That's all right, officer. We all have our jobs to do,' I said sweetly. Richard looked as if he was going to puke. 'See the nice officer out, Richard, would you?'

Richard returned. 'We all have our jobs to do,' he mimicked. 'Dear God, Brannigan, where do you dig that shit up from? OK, you fooled the sheriff, but you can't fool the Lone Ranger. What really went down there tonight?'

'Wonderful,' I muttered. 'The feds aren't allowed to interrogate Tonto, oh God no. But you get to ask all the questions you want, huh?'

He smiled and shrugged. 'I love you. I'm entitled.'

'If you really loved me, you'd run me a bath.” I told him. 'Then I'll tell you all about it.'

Ten minutes later, I was soaking in the luxuriant bubbles of Van Cleef amp; Arpel's First. When I say luxuriant, I mean it. Richard has a heavy hand with the bubble bath. I reckoned there was at least a fiver's worth of foam bath surrounding me. I was decent enough to have starred in a forties Hollywood extravaganza.

Richard sat on the closed toilet lid, smoking a joint that smelled heavily loaded to me. His glasses had steamed up, so he'd shoved them up on his head like flying goggles. His hazel eyes peered short-sightedly at me. 'So, Brannigan. What really happened out there tonight?' he asked the mirror above my head.

'Somebody was either trying to frighten me off or see me off.' There wasn't any point in dressing it up.

'Shit,' Richard breathed. 'Do you know who?'

'I couldn't swear it in a court of law, but I've got a good idea. I've just turned over a fraud at a pharmaceutical company running into a hundred grand or so. They use white Ford Transits with a logo quite high up on the side. I think that probably covers it, don't you?' I stretched gingerly, then wished I hadn't. The next few days were not going to be fun.

'So what are you going to do about it?' Richard asked. I'll say this for him: he doesn't come on like macho man where my work is concerned. He doesn't like the fact that I have to take risks, but he generally keeps his mouth shut on the subject.

Tomorrow I'm going to get one of our leg men to go over there and take a look at their rolling stock. And I'm going to get him to keep the place under surveillance until we get the pics we need. And you, my sweet darling, are going to take me for a day out in Buxton.'

'Buxton? What's in Buxton?'

'Lots of lovely things. You'll like it. But right now, what I'm going to do is he in this bath till the hot water runs out, then I'm going to crawl into bed.'

'Fair enough. D'you want supper in bed? If you do, I'll nip out for a Chinese.'

The words were poetry to my ears. I wasn't convinced that I could handle anything as complicated as chopsticks, but there was only Richard to see. And if he ever threatened to tell, I was sure I could find something to blackmail him into silence with. After all, I know he's got a Barry Manilow CD.

I woke in the same position I'd gone to sleep in. When I tried to move, I understood why. Inch by agonizing inch, I got myself out of bed and on to my feet. Making it to the bathroom was hell on legs. I'd just made it back to the hall when Richard appeared at the other end, hair awry, duvet trailing behind him. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, muttered 'You OK?' and reached for his glasses. When he'd put them on and looked at me, he couldn't stifle a snort of laughter. 'I'm sorry,' he gasped. 'I really am. But you look like Half Man, Half Biscuit. One side's flesh coloured, the other side's all brown and purple. Wild!'

I looked down. He was right. At least he'd found it funny rather than repulsive. 'You really know how to make a woman feel special,' I muttered. It was kind of him to have slept on my sofa rather than going back to his own house. I was about to thank him when I saw the havoc he'd managed to wreak in my kitchen with one Chinese takeaway. It looked like the entire People's Army had marched through on their stomachs. I didn't have the energy or the mobility to do anything about it, so I tried to blank it while I poured a cup of coffee from yesterday's jug and waited for the microwave to do its magic.

By the time I'd got my first cup down, Richard was back, showered and shaved. I was just beginning to realize how much my accident had frightened and upset him. He knows how much I hate fuss, so he was trying desperately to disguise the fact that he was running round like a mother hen. I know it's disaster for the image, but I was touched, I have to admit it.

'What's the plan for today, then?' he asked. 'You still want to go to Buxton?'

'How are you fixed?' I asked.

'I can be free. Couple of calls to make, is all.'

'Can you drive me round to the Turkish? And pick me up an hour later?'

The Turkish is bliss. It's part of the Hathersage Road Public Baths, a magnificent Victorian edifice about ten minutes walk from my flat. If walking's your thing. Because it's owned by the city council, there's never been any money to gut it and refurbish it, so it's still filled with the glories of its Victorian heyday. The original green, yellow and blue tiles adorn the walls. They still have the old-fashioned wrap-round showers: as well as water coming at you from above, hot water hits you from the pipes that surround you on three sides as well. The only concession to the last decade of the twentieth century is the plastic loungers that complement the original marble benches in the steam room. Like I say, it's always bliss. But that particular Saturday morning was more blissful than most.