“Of course not. I’m vegetarian, as it’s how I was brought up, but I don’t begrudge other people eating meat, and I do like fish. In fact, I might change my mind and have the salmon in a herby sauce with French beans,” she said, considering the menu again. “It will be better for me than cheese.”

“The omega-3 fatty acids will help your recovery, and so will the protein,” Sujin agreed.

“You see, I knew there was a reason I invited you along,” Keya teased.

Sujin looked down at the table. His embarrassment was palpable.

“You know earlier …”

“When I had no clothes on,” Keya prompted.

A waiter cleared his throat. “Madam. Monsieur. Are you ready to order?”

Keya looked down at her menu and giggled.

“The steak, please, medium rare, with French fries, and Béarnaise sauce, but can I have it in a jug on the side?” Sujin asked, his face flushed.

“Certainly,” the waiter replied in an approving tone.

“And the salmon for me please,” Keya said, having composed herself.

“And to drink?”

“Do you have any of the French Bloom zero alcohol sparking rosé?”

“Of course, Monsieur.”

Keya looked at the price of the bottle and gasped. It may not have alcohol in it, but it was still expensive. She looked up at Sujin, who was smiling tenderly at her.

“I think we have something to celebrate, don’t we?” he asked.

“Our first date,” Keya said.

“Yes, if we consider our evening at The Swan Hotel as a trial.”

The waiter reappeared, popped open the bottle of pink fizz and poured two glasses.

Sujin raised his glass, and Keya lifted hers to it.

As they sat, leaning forward with their glasses touching, Sujin toasted, “To a bright future together.”

“A bright future. Together,” Keya repeated, smiling.

Sujin looked into her eyes and said, “When I saw you standing in the hospital earlier, I didn’t know what to do. I was paralysed. You are so beautiful.”

Keya’s smile broadened. Although she was the one who was paralysed, nobody had called her beautiful for a long time.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Keya was still smiling to herself when she woke on Monday morning. The smell of disinfectant, partly masked by the aroma of Sujin’s vase of summer flowers, and the efficient activity in the ward only made her evening out with Sujin feel all the more surreal.

They’d had a fabulous meal, washed down with the wonderfully expensive pink fizz, which they’d finished off with the theatrical performance of flaming Crepes Suzette.

And they’d talked over tea and coffee until they were the last ones in the restaurant.

Keya leaned back on her pillows and regarded the stained off-white ceiling.

They’d agreed to take things steady for the moment, as Keya needed to recover and she would still have the demands of both her police work and the cafe. But Sujin had urged her to accept Dotty’s offer to accompany her on a trip to the Lake District.

“Are you ready for breakfast?” asked an orderly. “And you might want to ask a nurse to help you dress. Monday mornings are always busy in here as new patients come onto the ward from operations.”

Dressed in her tracksuit bottoms and a fresh T-shirt, Keya sat up in bed eating a peach yoghurt - no strawberry this morning - as she watched the comings and goings on the ward. One of the elderly patients had been moved the previous evening and there was a gap where his bed had been.

“I hope you’re thinking about our case,” Inspector Evans remarked as he strode up to her bed.

“Inspector. This is a surprise.”

“Yes, well, I’ve come with my cap in my hand, so to speak. I know you need your rest and recovery time, but we’re almost done with Daisy Bentham’s case.”

“You think it was accidental, don’t you?”

“That’s the way the evidence is pointing. That Doreen Skinner got the recipe wrong and made a deadly batch of her hot sauce and both you and Daisy ate it, with tragic consequences.”

Keya remembered being inside the standing stones and the voice that had been so insistent inside her head. “I still think there’s more to this, sir.”

“I thought you might, which is why I need your help. Do you feel up to returning to the station with me this morning?”

“If you’ll provide lunch. The stuff they serve in here is dreadful. And some decent tea.”

“Done. I’ve spoken to the ward sister, and they’ll be busy all morning. You’re due for physio this afternoon, but not with Laura. Sister said if you can remember to do your exercises you can skip that, but hopefully we won’t need you for too long, and I can bring you back to rest this afternoon.”

On the drive from Cheltenham to Cirencester, Keya asked Inspector Evans, “How was your interview with Doreen Skinner yesterday evening? I thought you were sending Warren with Inspector Sue.”

“I was going to,” agreed the inspector, “but since Doreen’s sauce caused Daisy’s death, as well as your illness, I wanted to look her in the eye.”

“And do you think she’s innocent?”

“I’m not sure. Probably. But she was too upset for me to read her. Distraught is actually the term I’d use. But then we had just told her she’d effectively killed her daughter.”

Back at the station, Inspector Evans had to chaperone Keya to the team room after she’d been enthusiastically welcomed back by the duty sergeant, who’d then spent several minutes questioning her about her ordeal.

Word must have spread as other officers appeared until the inspector took charge and escorted her through the entrance and along the corridor to their team room.

Applause erupted as they walked in and beside her desk there were three balloons bobbing about, attached to ribbons which rose from a stand on the floor. A silver one had ‘Welcome Back’ printed on it.