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‘Who are they from?’ Sergeant Mitz Patel stared at the enormous bunch of scarlet anemone blooms on the desk.

DI Robyn Carter shrugged. ‘I have no idea.’

‘How romantic,’ said PC Anna Shamash, pushing her face closer to them and inhaling deeply. ‘They don’t have any scent but they’re absolutely beautiful. Well, whoever it is, they’ve spent a fortune on you. Must be smitten.’

Robyn snorted in an unladylike manner, her attention on a report she was reading. ‘I can’t think why,’ she mumbled.

‘Maybe they’re from DCI Flint as a thank you for all your hard work.’ PC David Marker grinned and waited for a response from his superior.

Robyn grunted. She wasn’t even listening.

‘Have you got any plans for tonight, David?’ Anna’s dark eyebrows were raised and a smile played across her lips.

David shrugged good-naturedly. ‘I forgot it was Valentine’s Day and got the big freeze from the ball and chain so I nipped out at lunchtime and bought her a charm bracelet. She’s been hankering after one for ages. I’ll give it to her tonight and pretend I haven’t forgotten at all, that I was waiting to surprise her. I also booked a table for two at that new posh place in Stafford.’

‘It’s always fully booked – how did you get in there?’ Anna asked.

David spun on his chair, twirling his pencil. ‘I was really lucky. There’d been a cancellation. I’m going to be husband of the year after tonight. Might get some peace and quiet now when I try to watch the football, instead of, “Can you put up those shelves?” or, “The dustbin needs emptying.”’

Mitz shook his head. ‘You’re such a romantic, David.’

‘You wait until you’re married, Sarge. It’ll change your life.’ David winked.

It had recently come to light that Mitz had begun dating Anna. Both were keeping it quiet and behaving professionally in the office, but the entire team was aware of the fledgling relationship.

‘Can you lot get on with some work, please?’ Robyn was uncharacteristically snappy. Mitz looked across at Anna, who shrugged. Anna slid into her seat and began wrestling with a burglary report that had to be completed. The office fell quiet. Robyn tapped at her keyboard and deleted what she’d written, then swivelled to face the window. She was about to speak when DI Tom Shearer banged on the open door once and leant against the doorframe, hands in his pockets.

His gaze lit on the floral display. ‘Flint wants us, that is, if you’re not too busy. Taken up flower arranging, DI Carter?’

She ignored his comment, collected her phone and walked towards the door. Shearer let her go ahead and faced Mitz. ‘She okay?’ he mouthed.

Mitz shook his head. ‘No.’

Shearer nodded and strode after her, catching up with her as she reached the stairs.

‘Sorry about the flower-arranging quip. That’s me – open mouth, say something stupid, brain catches up later.’

She paused for a moment, looked at Shearer. ‘It’s not like you to be bothered about what you say, Tom. You’re renowned for your sarcastic wit. That was quite a good comment by your standards.’

He smiled. ‘I thought I’d been less than sensitive, what with Valentine’s Day and Davies and everything,’ he said, his words drying up. ‘Shit, I’m no good at this sort of thing. Look, I’m sorry, okay?’

She buried a pang of hurt. ‘It’s been two years, Tom. I’m fine. Today is just another day. You didn’t upset me.’

‘Good. Glad that’s settled,’ he said.

Detective Chief Inspector Flint’s office was much more sterile since he’d taken it over. It had once belonged to DCI Louisa Mulholland, who had worked and lived in there, rarely leaving to go home and always arriving early, way before her officers. Gone was the collection of memorabilia that had been on windowsills. The ornaments and Corgi police car Louisa had received for a birthday had gone with her to Yorkshire, where she’d taken up a new position. The large number of photographs that had adorned the wall had been removed, leaving several dark patches as a reminder. Flint’s desk was impossibly tidy with only a leather desk blotter and matching square pen pot and business card holder on display. A tray containing documents had been pushed to one side of the desk, and in front of it was a silver-framed photograph of him and his wife taken at a police ball.

‘Tom, Robyn, sit down.’ Flint was as red-faced as usual. A roll of fat hung over his collar. He loosened the blue tie he was wearing as if it was choking him, and he swallowed. ‘I wanted to give you the heads up about the latest development at the station. As you are aware, the counterterrorism department has increased over the last year, and the powers that be have decided it requires more operational space. We looked at all the possibilities, but with the constraints we have on our budget, the only viable option is to increase their current space by knocking through into the room next door, which is currently Tom’s office.’

Robyn had a feeling she knew where this was going. Flint eased back into his chair, one leg draped over the other. His trousers rode up to reveal dark socks bearing the Batman logo.

‘That raises the issue of where to house Tom and his team. Robyn, your office has sufficient space to accommodate another three members of staff and equipment. This will only be a temporary situation as we’re considering other possibilities for Tom, and I appreciate it isn’t ideal for you both, but I also have confidence you’ll manage. You’re both resourceful officers.’

Regardless of the sudden sinking feeling in her stomach, Robyn maintained a poker face. This was all she needed, snarky Tom Shearer in her space every single day. There was nothing she could do about it. Flint, or the super, had made the decision. If she started griping, it would reflect badly on her, especially as Tom was looking quite calm about it. This was most unlike him. She couldn’t be bothered to argue. The decision had been made.

Flint studied his officers. ‘You’ll need to shift your gear out by start of the day tomorrow, Tom. We want to get the workmen in as soon as possible.’

Shearer spoke. ‘Yes, sir.’

Flint’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. ‘Okay, that was easier than I expected. I thought you might have issues with this decision?’

‘No, sir. I’m fine about it. Robyn?’

Robyn nodded her accord.

Flint looked relieved. ‘Okay. That’s it. Thank you for your cooperation.’

Outside again in the corridor, Robyn faced Shearer. ‘What’s with all the “yes, sir”, “no, sir” nonsense? You’re going to hate sharing your space with me. We have very different ways of doing things.’

‘You’ll hate it more,’ he said with a smirk. ‘We’ll have to make the best of it. I’m not keen, but it’ll only be for a short while. We could draw chalk marks on the floor and divide the place up so we don’t get in each other’s way. Bagsy I get the side with the coffee machine.’

‘No way! That stays in my section. You and your officers can keep your hands off it.’

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. ‘That’s better. More like your old self. It was like you were in another world or time zone in Flint’s office. Normally you’d have created seven bells about sharing with me. What’s going on?’

She shook her head. ‘Nothing. I’m having an off day, that’s all.’

‘Can’t say I’ve ever noticed you having one of those before. You’re like Wonder Woman most days. You whirl into the station, spin about and whirl out.’

‘Now you’re going to be in my face every day, you’ll probably see more of my off days.’ She attempted a small grin. ‘Wonder Woman?’

Shearer laughed. ‘I could have described you like the Looney Tunes Tasmanian devil, but you’re in a bad enough mood.’

‘You’d better not come out with any of this sort of stuff in front of my officers, DI Shearer, or you’ll really see my bad side.’

‘Don’t tempt me. You know I can’t resist a challenge,’ he said.

‘I mean it. It’s one thing to be sarcastic out of earshot and another if you undermine me in front of my officers.’ She threw him a steely gaze.

He gave a grunt. ‘Okay. I can see you really have got out of the wrong side of bed today. I’ll leave you to it.’