‘My pleasure.’

It took only a few minutes more before their main courses arrived. Stacey watched Jessica cut into the meat, releasing a trickle of pale red liquid that slowly spread out towards the edge of the plate.

‘So is that one of your beauty secrets? Rare steak?’

‘Along with bathing in the blood of virgins.’

‘Really, those must be some pretty shallow baths. Especially if you live where I do.’

‘It’s certainly not easy.’

‘They grow up so fast. Sophie knows far more about sex than I did when I was … actually, come to think about it, I think she knows far more than I do now.’

‘It must be amazing being a mother. I don’t know if it’s ever going to happen to me now.’

‘You’re not that old!’

‘No, but I don’t want to rush into it. I don’t really fancy the single mother thing. No offence, I just don’t think I could handle it.’

‘I can’t pretend that it’s easy. Sometimes it feels almost impossible to keep it together, especially doing this job.’

‘I imagine it’s hard not having other people to talk to. You can’t exactly burden a teenager with what it’s like at a murder scene and some of the stuff you see.’

‘Same goes for you. Who helps you to unwind and get it off your chest?’

‘I’ve got a group of close friends that I’ve known for a while, mostly from university, mostly doctors. They’re all very good listeners. Does your daughter see much of her father?’

Stacey shook her head. ‘No. He’s … not a very good influence. I made a real mistake there. That’s why we didn’t stick together.’

‘Pretty tough having to grow up without a dad at all, though. That can really mess you up.’

‘She’s a tough kid. She’ll be okay. I guess you have to strike a balance. Is it better to have no dad or a crap dad? To be honest, I’m still trying to decide.’

‘But she knows who he is and everything?’

‘Actually she just met him for the first time recently but … I had to stop her seeing him. It’s pretty complicated. It was starting to get in the way …’

Stacey’s voice drifted off. Jessica reached across the table and placed her hand on top of her friend’s. ‘Sorry. Let’s talk about something else. I apologize for sticking my nose in where it’s not wanted. I take after my own mother in that respect.’

‘Are your parents still together?’

Jessica’s eyes flicked across to the man sitting on her left once more as she answered. ‘Yeah. I don’t see them much. I find them hard work.’

‘Who doesn’t?’

Jessica smiled. ‘I remember being really, blissfully happy when I was young and then when I got to about seven everything in my life changed. I changed, my parents changed, we moved house. It was tough.’

‘You seem to have done okay for yourself.’

‘You have to make the best of the hand that you’re given, don’t you?’

The conversation continued to flow easily, and Stacey found herself feeling increasingly relaxed. She spent so much time in the male-dominated environment of the police, or looking after her daughter, or on her own, that she sometimes forgot how good it was to just go out and have a good time. She resolved to try to do it more often.

‘So, Stacey, I’ve always wanted to ask: what made you join the police?’

‘Long story.’

‘So? I’m in no hurry. Let’s order another bottle of vino. Especially as you’re paying.’

Stacey laughed. ‘Okay, if you insist, I’ll give you the quick version.’

She went on to talk about her childhood growing up on the Blenheim Estate and the gangs of kids that used to hang out in the passageways causing trouble. She then moved on to the events of the day when she, her mum and her dad had been walking through the estate back from the local supermarket, all of them carrying heavy bags of shopping. The lifts were out of order, as they almost always were, so the trio had no choice but to struggle up the stairs to the fifth floor of Block E where their flat was. As they rounded the third flight of stairs, three young men emerged from a corner and blocked their way. Though many years had passed since, Stacey could still remember their faces, the casual smirks they wore as her father asked them to please step out of the way.

The boys demanded money but Stacey’s father refused to pay, berating the boys for bringing the area into disrepute.

After that everything seemed to happen so fast. As one boy walked past, his hand flashed out and grabbed the straps of her mother’s handbag, which was hanging from her shoulder. Her mother screamed in shock and surprise, and the boy tugged harder, jerking her body roughly away from the wall.

Then everything went into slow motion. Stacey remembered seeing her father’s mouth wide open in a fierce scream of disapproval as he tore down the few steps that separated him from the boy. His right arm stretched out and clamped around the boy’s neck. The two other boys turned and began making their way up the stairs to help their friend.

The boy tried to punch and claw and scratch the man’s hands off of him but Stacey’s father was too strong. The boy’s two friends grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down. Stacey’s father somehow lost his footing and began falling towards them. The boys swerved to avoid him and he crashed head first into the top stair, cartwheeling over and over down the flight of steps, landing with his body twisted and broken in a way that even a child could tell was simply not natural.

The boys ran off. Stacey and her mother tried to help her dad to his feet, but as soon as they moved him he started coughing up blood. So they called an ambulance. The rest of that night was a blur of flashing blue lights, hospital rooms and polite but grim-faced doctors. His spine had been badly damaged. He was going to be okay, they were told, but they should prepare themselves for the fact that he’d probably never walk again.

When the police turned up at the hospital bed, Stacey’s father refused to tell on those who had attacked them for fear of reprisals against his family – a family he felt he could no longer protect. A shortage of available housing stock meant there was no chance of the family moving any further from the Blenheim Estate than the ground floor of Block E – the only level that was even vaguely wheelchair accessible and just five floors away from their old home.

From that moment on everything in Stacey’s life changed. Until that point her father had always been fiercely independent – he wouldn’t even let his wife iron his shirts for him. The adjustment to being completely and utterly reliant on others was not one he was able to deal with. He hated his wheelchair, hated the way his life had become and most of all hated for anyone to believe he couldn’t still manage on his own.

‘And that’s where they’ve been ever since.’

She finished the story and the two women sat in silence as the full gravity of the life-changing experience washed over them.

‘Did they ever catch the people who attacked your father?’

‘They got caught for something else. My father refused to cooperate with the police because he didn’t want to make me and my mum vulnerable. I guess I joined the force because I wanted to be able to stand up for people who couldn’t do it for themselves. To bring the bad guys to justice.’

‘Cool.’

Jessica refilled their glasses from the last of the second bottle of wine as they continued their conversation.

‘How about you? What made you want to become a pathologist?’

‘Oh God, why would anyone want to become a pathologist, eh? Certainly not by choice.’

‘What, then?’

‘Pushy parents. Seriously pushy parents. They sent me to private school and when I was about to head off to university they made it clear that I had only two choices about what I was going to do with my life, if I wanted any support from them. I was going to be either a doctor or a lawyer. Nothing else would do.