asked him. "You've got a scar."
"Khushi!" Azhar sounded appalled. His face spoke of a rapid assessment being made of Barbara's visitor. "Well-brought-up young ladies do not - "
"Knife fight," Nkata told her in a friendly fashion. And he said to Azhar, "It's okay, mon.
Get asked all the time. Hard not to notice, innit, girl?" He squatted to give her a better look. "One of us had a knife, see, and th' other had a razor. Now, thing is this: razor, she's fast and she does damage. But the knife? She's gonna win in the end."
"Important piece of knowledge, that," Barbara said. "Very useful in gang warfare, Hadiyyah."
"You're in a gang?" Hadiyyah asked as Nkata resumed his full height. She looked up at him, her expression awed.
"Was," he said. "Tha's where this came from." And to Barbara, "Ready? Want me to wait in the car?"
Barbara wondered why he asked the question and what he thought his immediate absence was meant to accomplish: a fond farewell between herself and her neighbour? What a ludicrous idea. She considered the reasons Winston might be thinking that and she took note of Azhar's expression, which spoke of a level of discomfort that she couldn't remember having ever seen in him.
She sifted through various possibilities suggested by three plastic containers of leftover dinner, Hadiyyah's Urdu lesson, a canal trip, and Winston Nkata's appearance at her cottage, and she came up with something too stupid to consider in the light of day. She quickly rejected it, then went on to realise she'd referred to Winston as her date, and that, in combination with her packing a bag, must have made Azhar - as proper as a Regency gentleman - think she was heading off for a few days in the country with her tall, nice-looking, well-built, athletic, and likely delicious-in-all-the-right-ways lover. The very thought made her want to guffaw. Herself, Winston Nkata, candlelit dinners, wine, roses, romance, and a few nights of bouncy-bounce in a hotel heavily hung with wisteria ...She snorted and covered the snort with a cough.
She made a quick introduction between the two men, casually adding, "DS Nkata. We've got a case in Hampshire," once she'd said Winston's full name. She turned to the daybed before Azhar responded, hearing Hadiyyah say, "You're a police man as well? Like Barbara, you mean?"
"Just like," Nkata said.
Barbara heaved her holdall to her shoulder as Hadiyyah said to her father, "C'n he come on the canal boat as well, Dad?"
To which Azhar replied, "Barbara herself said they're going to Hampshire, khushi."
They left the cottage, all of them together. They set off towards the front of the house.
Barbara and Winston were behind the others but Barbara still heard Hadiyyah say, "I forgot.
About Hampshire, I mean. But if they weren't? What if they weren't, Dad? Could he come as well?"
Barbara couldn't hear Azhar's reply.
LYNLEY DROVE THEM once again in Isabelle's car. And once again, the arrangement seemed fine with him. He didn't attempt to hold the door open for her another time - he hadn't done so since she'd corrected him about this - and again he gave the driving his complete attention. She'd lost the plot on where in London they were just after Clerkenwell, so when her mobile phone rang as they were coursing by a nameless park, she took the call.
"Sandra wants to know do you want a visit." It was Bob, speaking without preamble as usual. Isabelle cursed herself for not having examined the number of the incoming call although, knowing Bob, he likely would be ringing her from a phone she couldn't identify anyway. He'd like to do that. Stealth was his main weapon.
She said, with a glance at Lynley, who wasn't paying attention to her anyway, "What d'you have in mind?"
"Sunday lunch. You could come out to Kent. The boys will be happy to - "
"With them, d'you mean? Alone? In a hotel restaurant or something?"
"Obviously not," he said. "I was going to say that the boys will be happy to have you join us. Sandra'll do a joint of beef. Ginny and Kate actually have a birthday party to go to on Sunday so - "
"So it would be the five of us, then?"
"Well, yes. I can hardly ask Sandra to leave her own house, can I, Isabelle?"
"A hotel would be better. A restaurant. A pub. The boys could - "
"Not going to happen. Sunday lunch with us is the best offer I'll make."
She said nothing. She watched what went for London scenery