as well as in height, and although Tom had checked that the low beams and ceilings of his cottage were sufficient to accommodate his own six foot height, he hadn’t allowed for the extra five inches that Steve could boast. And no hair on top to cushion him either, Tom noticed with surprise. It was obviously longer than he thought since they had seen each other.
Ducking as he made his way through to the sitting room, Steve spoke over his shoulder.
‘Sorry it’s the first time I’ve had a chance to call round. I couldn’t believe it when I got your email to say you were moving back up north, but I don’t blame you.’
Steve looked around the sitting room.
‘Wow – this is a bit smart, Tom. I didn’t know you were into interior design. New career, is it?’ Steve winked at Tom, a habit of his that Tom had completely forgotten. He remembered thinking that Steve had some sort of facial tick when he’d first met him.
Tom glanced at the dark aubergine sofa and stone coloured armchairs grouped close to an inglenook fireplace, and the fat porcelain lamps on chunky wooden side tables.
‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ he said. ‘I found a great shop in Chester, and they sorted the lot. After the place I had in London – which was uber smart, but always felt cold and stark to me – it’s a pleasure to have somewhere that feels like home.’
‘Never could stand London myself. Anyway, it’s good to have you back up north. I’d have popped in sooner, but things have been a bit hectic with work. You know how it is.’
Tom grinned. He certainly did.
‘Before I sit down, can I get you a drink of anything? Beer, wine, or tea or coffee if you’re on duty?’
‘I’d love a beer - only a glass though, as I’m driving. I officially came off duty a couple of hours ago, but I had stuff to do in the neighbourhood.’
‘One beer coming up. Have a seat - I’ll only be a minute.’
Tom made his way to the kitchen, opened a bottle of beer and grabbed two glasses.
‘Here you go,’ Tom said, handing a glass to Steve and filling it slowly.
‘Thanks. I’m ready for this.’
They chinked glasses, and Tom sat down.
‘You never did say what made you decide to make the break from London, Tom. Just that you were moving back here. Problems?’
‘No, nothing like that.’ Tom shook his head, while admitting to himself that he wasn’t being entirely honest with his friend. ‘Lucy’s back in Manchester with her mum, and seeing her for the odd weekend wasn’t working for either of us. She’s only eight, and I felt that I was missing out on so much. So I wanted to be within driving distance. She’s coming tomorrow for the day for the first time. Her mum’s bringing her – but you know Kate – she’ll just want to have a nosey at my new home.’
‘So how was life in the big league then?’ Steve winked again, and Tom glanced down at his beer to hide a smile.
‘If you mean the Met, I had a great boss. But he took early retirement after a health scare, and I couldn’t think of a single good reason to stay. So I packed up and moved here. And now I’m job hunting.’
‘Bloody hell, Tom - that’s a bit of a risk, isn’t it? What will you do if nothing comes up?’
‘Something else entirely, I expect,’ Tom replied with a shrug of his shoulders. He was keen to move the focus of the conversation away from himself. ‘More to the point, though, what are you doing in this part of Cheshire on a Saturday afternoon? I don’t suppose you were just passing?’
Steve took a long gulp of his beer, and set his glass down on the coffee table. The smile disappeared from his face.
‘Pretty horrible case, actually. Some kid got herself knocked over last night on the back road, if you know where that is. It’s the local name for the lane that cuts through between the two main roads on either side of the village. Anyway, whoever hit her dragged her to the side of the road and left her there. Left her to die.’ Steve shook his large head. ‘The bastard. I bloody hope I catch whoever it was, that’s all I can say. We’ve got a team working the area, but I thought I’d take a detour on my way home to see