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Kirby had eaten two Happy Meals and a McFlurry while Amy had a burger and fries. They’d been mainly silent during their meal. Kirby felt unable to burden her with the distress of his work. But the murdered young woman swam around his skull the whole evening, and he was only half listening to what Amy was saying, never mind what the new Netflix series was about.

‘What? Sorry, Amy, I was miles away.’

‘That’s what I’m talking about.’

‘I’m so sorry. The new investigation isn’t the nicest thing to talk about over a McD’s and Netflix.’ He realised they were still sitting at the kitchen table, from where they could see the television through the double doors to the sitting room.

‘I was saying maybe we should book a holiday.’ She must have seen the look on his face, because she added, ‘I’m not talking about next week.’

‘God, I don’t know when I last had a proper holiday. Like going on a plane to a different country kind of holiday. It sounds amazing. Let’s do it.’

She clapped her hands like a child. ‘Oh, great. Where will we go?’

‘Anywhere, as long as we’re together.’

‘You know what? You’re just a romantic at heart.’

And then he remembered. ‘Fuck. Shit.’ He flew up the stairs, with Amy struggling on her bad leg behind him.

‘What’s wrong, Larry?’

He threw open the bedroom door and was greeted by a plume of black smoke. He flicked on the light, drew back the curtains and flung open the window.

‘Oh my God,’ Amy said. ‘What have you done?’

With his eyes watering from the smoke, he started blowing out candles. Two, in jars, had burned down to the end and were the cause of the black smoke. When he had them all extinguished, he looked in despair at the walls.

‘This is a nightmare,’ he said. ‘The whole room will need redecorating. I’m so sorry.’ He sank onto the now blackened duvet as the smoke dwindled out the window. ‘It was supposed to be a romantic surprise for you.’

‘You are too sweet, Larry Kirby.’ She leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder. ‘We can sleep in the spare room tonight.’

‘You go ahead. I want to make sure there’s nothing left to ignite. I’ll clean up the kitchen too.’

‘Forget about the kitchen. Tomorrow is another day.’

‘I’ve to find the murderer of a young woman tomorrow. No, I’ll clean the kitchen and head to bed then. Don’t fall asleep before I get there.’

‘I’ve no intention of falling asleep.’

When he had the room half decent and the kitchen fairly clear, he switched off all the lights and headed up to the spare room. Before he even pushed in the door, he heard her soft snores, rising and falling.

And despite everything, it was the sweetest sound in the world, because it meant that he was no longer living his life alone.