‘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.’