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‘I meant to do it earlier. Sorry, I forgot,’ he said.

‘No problem. Besides, you always forget to separate the paper and cardboard from the non-recyclable stuff. Is there anything else you need to bin before I leave you in peace?’ she asked, holding up the bag. David shook his head.

After going downstairs, she headed to the utility room and emptied the cardboard and paper from the bin bag into the recycling box provided by the council. She noticed a paper bag with the local chemist’s logo, which had been in David’s bin. Curious, she opened the bag and found the contents: squashed cardboard boxes for a Metatone tonic bottle and Amitriptyline, which had a prescription label with today’s date. She sighed, realising that David must have visited the doctor’s surgery earlier that day. She remembered he had previously been prescribed Amitriptyline for severe depression after his nervous breakdown.

She heated the Bolognese sauce, poured it over a plate of spaghetti and sat down to eat. While twirling the pasta with her fork, she thought more about what she’d found. It was odd that he had been prescribed Amitriptyline again, as she hadn’t observed any signs of depression.

‘You all right?’ David asked as he entered the kitchen, holding an empty water bottle.

‘Yeah, I’m fine, thanks. Just got a lot on my mind about the investigation.’

‘Is that why you’re playing with your food instead of eating it?’ he asked as he filled the bottle with tap water.

‘Just wondering if there’s anything I missed at the scene. You know what I’m like.’

David sighed. ‘Yes, I do . . . you found the box for the Amitriptyline tablets, didn’t you?’

She slowly raised her head and nodded.

‘It’s not what you’re thinking, Jess.’

‘If you are suffering from depression again, then please speak to me about it. If you bottle things up, I can’t help you.’

He sat down opposite her. ‘Doctor Barnes asked me to come in to talk about my blood test results.’

‘And what did she say?’ she asked.

‘My creatine kinase levels were high. It’s an enzyme in your heart and skeletal muscle released into your blood when you suffer muscle damage or over-exercise. The doc thinks it is probably jobrelated and said there was nothing to worry about.’

‘Then why prescribe the Amitriptyline?’

‘My back and muscle issues make me feel down, but it’s not the same type of depression I suffered when Mum died. Amitriptyline is also prescribed for fatigue and back pain.’

‘Really?’ she said, raising her eyebrows.

‘No, I made it all up. Stop giving me the third degree when there’s nothing to worry about.’

‘Will there be any follow-up tests?’

‘You can’t help yourself, can you? I’ll have another blood test in a week, but in the meantime, I must rest and not overexert myself at work.’

‘Carrying those heavy mailbags is not going to help.’

‘Did you not listen when I told you I’m working in the sorting office?’

‘Sorry, I’ve got a lot on my mind. What’s the next step if your kinase levels haven’t gone down?’

‘I may need to see a neurologist for further tests, but from what Doc Barnes said, that’s unlikely.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me all this in the first place?’

‘Because I could see you’d had a hard day at work and got a lot on your plate.’

‘I know I can be a bit OCD about things, but I worry about you.’

He laughed. ‘A bit OCD. You’re exhausted yet you’ll go over this house from top to bottom making sure everything is neat and tidy before going to bed. You have any idea how many times I get woken up with you hoovering at God knows what hour? You’ll probably get it out tonight.’

She was still twirling the spaghetti. ‘I promise I won’t.’