Page 171 of Troubled Blood

“Hey, Robs.”

“Hi,” said Robin, accepting Jonathan’s hug and trying to act pleased to see him, “come in.”

“This is Courtney,” said Jonathan, “and that’s Kyle.”

“Hiya,” giggled Courtney, who was holding a can. She was an exquisitely pretty girl, with large dark eyes and long black hair, and she seemed slightly tipsy. Kyle, who accidentally bashed Robin with his large rucksack on entering, was a couple of inches taller than she was, skinny, with a high-fade haircut, large, bloodshot eyes and a neatly groomed beard.

“Hi there,” he said, holding out his hand and smiling down at Robin. A stranger might have thought he was welcoming her to his flat, rather than the other way around. “Robin, yeah?”

“Yes,” said Robin, forcing a smile. “Lovely to meet you. Come upstairs; we’re eating on the top floor.”

Lost in thoughts of Ilsa, she followed the three students. Courtney and Kyle were giggling and whispering together, Courtney a little clumsy on her feet. On reaching the living area, Robin introduced all three guests to Max, while Kyle dumped his none-too-clean rucksack on their host’s cream sofa.

“Thanks very much for letting us stay,” said Jonathan to Max, who’d laid the table for six. “Something smells really good.”

“I’m vegan,” piped up Courtney. “But I can just eat, like, pasta, or whatever.”

“I’ll do some pasta, don’t you worry about that,” Robin told Max hastily, as she surreptitiously lifted Kyle’s dirty rucksack off the sofa, trying not to make a big deal of what she was doing. Courtney promptly knelt on the sofa with her damp trainers still on, and said to Robin,

“Is this the sofa bed?”

Robin nodded.

“We’ll have to sort out who sleeps where,” said Courtney, with a glance at Kyle. Robin thought she saw her brother’s smile falter.

“Actually, why don’t we put all the bags in my bedroom for now?” Robin suggested, as Jonathan swung his holdall onto the sofa, too. “And keep this area clear for after dinner?”

Neither Courtney nor Kyle showed any inclination to move, so Robin and Jonathan took the bags downstairs together. Once they were in Robin’s room, Jonathan took a box of chocolates out of his holdall and gave them to his sister.

“Thanks, Jon, that’s lovely. D’you feel OK? You look a bit pale.”

“I was blunted last night. Listen, Robs… don’t say anything to Courtney about her being, like, my girlfriend or whatever.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Good, because…”

“You’ve split up?” Robin suggested sympathetically.

“We weren’t ever—we hooked up a couple of times,” muttered Jonathan, “but—I dunno, I think she might be into Kyle now.”

Courtney’s laugh rang out from the upper floor. With a perfunctory smile at his sister, Jonathan returned to his friends.

Robin tried to call Ilsa back, but her number was engaged. Hoping this meant that she’d located Nick, Robin texted:

Just tried to call you. Please let me know what’s going on. I’m worried about you. Robin xxx

She went back upstairs and started cooking pumpkin ravioli for Courtney. Apparently sensing that the casserole would soon be leaving the oven, Wolfgang slunk around Max’s and Robin’s ankles. Checking her watch, Robin noted that Strike was already fifteen minutes late. His record was an hour and a half. She tried, without much success, not to feel angry. After the way he’d treated her for being late this morning…

Robin was just draining the ravioli when the doorbell finally rang.

“D’you want me—?” said Max, who was pouring drinks for Jonathan, Courtney and Kyle.

“No, I’ll do it,” said Robin shortly.

When she opened the door, she knew immediately that Strike, who was peering down at her with unfocused eyes, was drunk.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said thickly. “Can I have a pee?”

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