‘Playing devil’s advocate here. You do break a lot of commandments, don’t you?’
‘I’m one of the good guys, remember?’
‘The end justifies the means?’
‘That’s the way I see it. Yes, I shot him dead, but he was wired up with enough explosives to blow himself to kingdom come. You can’t expect me to feel guilty about that.’
‘Just because what you did was right doesn’t necessarily make it easier to deal with.’
‘I disagree.’
‘There are as many cases of post-traumatic stress disorder among troops on the winning side of a conflict as there are on the losing side. Stress is stress.’
‘I was well trained,’ said Shepherd.
‘The best of the best?’ There was a note of sarcasm in her voice.
‘The selection procedure weeds out the guys who aren’t up to it,’ said Shepherd, ‘and the training teaches you to cope with pretty much anything.’
‘A high percentage of former SAS members end up killing themselves, don’t they?’ she said quietly.
‘That’s not stress,’ said Shepherd. ‘If it was stress, they’d do it while they were in the Regiment, not after they’d left.’
‘So, if it’s not stress, what is it?’
‘They miss the action, I guess. They can’t live without the adrenaline kick.’ Suddenly Shepherd realised where the conversation was going. ‘You always get back to this, don’t you? You make it sound as if I’m addicted to violence.’
‘We were talking about former members of the SAS.’
‘We were talking about me – it’s always about me but you take the long way round sometimes.’
‘Honestly, I wasn’t being that devious. But it’s a fair question, isn’t it? The men who do what you do: do they do it because it’s a job, or because they enjoy it?’
‘You enjoy your job, right?’
‘It’s challenging,’ she said.
‘So what’s wrong with me enjoying my job?’
‘I don’t kill people, Dan,’ said Gift, quietly.
‘The only people who enjoy killing are psychopaths,’ said Shepherd, firmly, ‘and I’m not a psychopath.’
Gift opened her mouth to reply but before she could say anything they heard a key in the front door. Instead she finished her toast.
‘Katra,’ said Shepherd.
Gift nodded. The front door opened and Katra hurried down the hall. ‘It’s me!’ she called, and burst into the kitchen. She frowned when she saw Gift at the kitchen table. ‘Hello?’ she said.
Gift smiled. ‘Hi.’
‘This is a friend of mine, Kathy,’ Shepherd said, by way of introduction. ‘Kathy, this is Katra, who looks after us.’
Katra smiled. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and she was dressed for warmth in a quilted jacket over a thick pullover with horizontal rainbow stripes, brown cord jeans and Timberland boots. ‘We have the same name, almost,’ she said. ‘Katra means Kathy. It was my grandmother’s name.’
Gift laughed. ‘I was named after a singer my father fancied,’ she said. ‘Where are you from? Your English is excellent.’
‘Slovenia.’
‘Where in Slovenia?’
‘Portoroz,’ said Katra. ‘Do you know it?’
Gift shook her head. ‘I’ve been to Croatia a few times but never Slovenia. I’m told it’s a beautiful country.’
‘It is. Very beautiful.’ She turned to Shepherd. ‘I’m going to the supermarket. Is there anything you need?’
‘Shampoo,’ said Shepherd. ‘Head and Shoulders.’ He grinned at Gift. ‘Dandruff. And it’s not stress-related.’ Katra looked puzzled. ‘I’ll see you later,’ Shepherd said to her. ‘Can you pick Liam up from school?’
‘Of course.’
‘I’ve got to see someone at six, so I’ll be leaving here at five.’
‘I’ll put your dinner in the oven,’ said Katra. She waved goodbye and went out again.
Shepherd sat down opposite Gift. She was smiling at him. ‘What?’ he asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know what I mean,’ he said. ‘That knowing smile. It says you think something’s going on.’
‘She’s a pretty girl, that’s all.’
‘She’s twenty-three.’
‘You’re… what? Thirty-five?’
‘You know exactly how old I am,’ said Shepherd. ‘It’s in my file.’
‘It’s been almost two years since your wife died,’ said Gift, quietly.
‘So?’
‘It’s a long time.’ They heard Katra drive away.
‘I’m not going to jump on the au pair, if that’s what you mean. I already told you, the only relationship I’m concerned with is being a father.’
‘She seems to have made herself at home,’ said Gift.
‘She lives in,’ said Shepherd, then cursed himself inwardly – he had sounded defensive. Kathy Gift had the knack of making him feel guilty even when he knew there was no reason for it.
‘Two years is a long time to grieve.’
‘I’m not grieving,’ said Shepherd, quickly. ‘Sue died. Since then I’ve been working flat out. And when I’m not working, I’m with Liam. Anyway, you’re the unit’s psychologist, not a Relate counsellor.’
‘I need to look at the whole person,’ said Gift, patiently. ‘When you’re undercover you have to adopt a complete personality, don’t you? If one thing isn’t right, your cover can be blown.’
‘And because I’m not going around bonking everything in a skirt, I’ve got a problem?’
‘There’s nothing wrong with being celibate, provided it’s for the right reason.’
Shepherd leaned back and grinned. ‘Is that what I am? A monk?’
‘We’re just talking here, Dan. I’d be more worried if you were having a string of one-night stands.’
‘That’s something,’ said Shepherd. He finished his toast. ‘You never ask about the important stuff, do you?’
‘Such as?’
‘My performance on the range. My fitness. I’m as good a shot as I was in the SAS, and I’m faster over five miles than I was a year ago.’
‘You have an annual physical, don’t you?’ said Gift. ‘I’m solely concerned with your mental well-being.’
‘So, show me some ink blots or something.’
‘You always use humour as a defence mechanism, don’t you?’
‘Damn right,’ said Shepherd. ‘Guns are just plain messy.’
Gift smiled. She put her notepad and pen into her briefcase, drank the last of her coffee and stood up.
‘That’s it?’ said Shepherd.
‘You seem fine to me,’ said Gift, putting on her raincoat. ‘As bloody-minded as always, but in your line of work…’ She left the sentence unfinished, but extended her hand. Shepherd stood up and shook it, then walked her to the front door. ‘Joking apart, Dan, you should get out more.’
‘I run,’ he said.
‘You know what I mean. Socialise.’
‘You’re not asking me out, are you?’ said Shepherd, with a grin.
Gift’s cheeks reddened, but she laughed. ‘There’s your defence mechanism kicking in again,’ she said.
Shepherd held open the door for her. ‘What if I did ask you out?’ he said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Dinner. Or a movie.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Sure. We never have a problem finding something to talk about, do we?’
Gift frowned, evidently trying to work out if he was serious or not. ‘It’s against protocol,’ she said eventually.
‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘Okay.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘Pity.’
Her frown deepened. ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said.
Shepherd watched her walk down the path, high heels pecking at the flagstones. As she reached the car she dropped her keys and bent down hurriedly to retrieve them. She glanced over her shoulder as she straightened, then looked away quickly when she saw that Shepherd was watching her.
Shepherd smiled to himself as he walked back to the kitchen. He’d been joking at first, but once he saw that she was considering his offer he’d wanted her to say yes. She was right, of course: there was no way that a police psychologist could go out with a man she was monitoring. She had to be impartial and independent: a date would be a clear conflict of interest.
And she was right that it had been a long time since he’d gone out with a woman for anything other than professional reasons. The last time he’d seen a movie it had been with Sue. The last time he’d eaten Chinese food it had been with Sue. He hadn’t been on holiday since Sue’s death.