Page 21 of No Safe Place
Field just looked at her.
‘You’re getting too old for this, you know,’ Young chided. ‘But if youinsiston working these stupid hours, then I’ve got just the thing for you, somewhere in here.’ She thrust a hand deep into her bag, and Field rolled her eyes.
‘You work as late as I do—’
‘Yes, but I work in a lab, and labs are civilised.’
Field snorted. She’d heard too many of Young’s stories about ruined experiments and petty vendettas to buy into that.
Young pulled out an Yves Saint Laurent under-eye concealer with a flourish.
‘I hate you,’ Field said. ‘But I actually am going to borrow that.’
Young grinned. ‘Gotta dash.’ She downed her coffee, put the empty cup in Field’s other hand, and aimed an air kiss near her cheek. ‘Will get all the David Moore stuff to you ASAP.’
‘All right. I’ll call you tomorrow.’
Young aimed a stern look over her shoulder as she hoisted her handbag up. ‘Don’t forget to sleep.’
Chapter 11
Wednesday | Afternoon
Field
Field was so engrossed in responding to emails on her phone, she almost didn’t register the door to the family room opening. When she looked up, in came a man who, to Field, looked like the walking stereotype of a shrink.
Grey cords, even in this weather. Shirt neatly tucked in, a tie that was old in the Noughties. A brown leather weekend bag, monogrammed with his initials. If it was winter, she’d put money on him wearing a tweed jacket with elbow patches.
‘Dr Dawes?’ she asked.
‘Yes, that’s me. Call me Simon. You must be Detective Field.’
Field got to her feet, and they shook hands. ‘Where have you come from?’
‘Cambridge.’ He let out a shaky breath, and eyed the mismatched furniture. ‘Sorry if I’m a bit—’
Field sat back down, and he followed her lead.
‘Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee, or a water?’
‘No, thank you.’ He put his hands on his knees. ‘I expect I should find out what room David is in.’
He spoke with clipped vowels and pinpoint precision, and Field’s own South London twang felt conspicuous in comparison. If she didn’t watch herself, she’d end up using her customer-service voice.
‘Simon,’ she said. ‘I appreciate you’re keen to see David, but it’d be helpful to have a quick word.’
Simon pushed his glasses higher up his nose and frowned. ‘With me?’
Field offered a reassuring smile. ‘It’s nothing formal. It’s just helpful to build up a picture of David. The more we know about him the better.’
Simon sank back into his chair with a sigh.
‘Penny said you were David’s mentor?’ Field offered.
‘That’s right. We met when he was on his very first placement. For the last five years, I’ve been his therapist.’ He smiled at her confused expression. ‘Oh yes, DCI Field. A lot of therapists are in therapy. It’s practically mandatory.’ He folded his arms. ‘So. How can I help?’
Field turned to a new page in her notebook. ‘I didn’t know anything about OCD, before this morning,’ she said. ‘That might be a useful place to start, before we speak about David.’
