CW: Hard to know what to say in this without giving spoilers, but...this is a rough one

DS Alex Mackie strolled into a Central London bar a little before 8pm. The bar had been styled to look retro and the 80s music playing through the speakers was a bit too quiet to hear the lyrics but still too loud to think. Alex was not looking forward to Monday and he hoped the internet date he had arranged this evening could take his mind off of the tense atmosphere at his work, the boss breathing down his neck for a result. There were two suspects Alex had wanted to rule out on the Erica Scott murder. He'd been warned off in no uncertain terms.

'It'll take too long,' they'd said.

That bothered him. His superiors wanted someone charged this week and with no forensics, no witnesses, and his boss gone, it just wouldn't happen. They didn't get that. 

Now that Subeera had been suspended, Alex knew there was going to be a tense and uneasy atmosphere at work tomorrow. Alex hadn't been told much. But he had liked Subeera, liked her a lot. They had good banter and he found her funny. For a long time he had fancied her. If he was honest he still did.

He had been too shy to ask her out. He had told himself at the time it was for the best. Besides the job what had they got in common? For all he knew, and he hadn't known, just guessed like the twat he was - she was in an arranged marriage or something, or he'd have all her angry male relatives after him just for looking at her. Besides, she was his immediate supervisor. But one long day after chasing down a suspect in a bank robbery, as they rode back to the station, he had blurted out, 'Will you go out with me?'

Rather than taking offence she had let him down kindly, explained that he was a bit young and she wanted to keep things professional. Rather than causing awkwardness, Alex had felt the tension had lifted, he had finally said what he'd wanted to say. He'd been relieved. Neither had ever mentioned the matter again, but they'd opened up to each other. He'd told her his ma had fled across Scotland, finally come down here when he was 16 after his da tried to kill her. Got as far away from Glasgow as she could.

He'd never talked about it to anyone before he had spoken to her. She got it.

As cringe as it sounded, he kept having the thought they had things in common. They'd both run from something they couldn't control.

Even while Alex was waiting for his date, he agonised about whether he should send his former boss a text. How would she take it if he did - would she see him as being a friend, or just think he was trying it on again? Since that stupid day, he had never texted Subeera except to tell her he was going to be late,  which he almost never was, to anything - to the extent that people took the piss out of him about it. At school he'd been one of the kids that had carried a briefcase around. He couldn't help being his geeky self as much as he hid it through layers of deprecation.

He ordered a beer and sat down at a table near the back. He imagined that he stood out like a sore thumb. If Corinne looked anything like the photos she'd put on Hinge she was well out of his league. It was a relief in a way, that nothing would come of it. There was something messed up about trying to meet women when you were working on a murder investigation, especially the murder of someone like Erica.

It felt creepy. Or maybe he was just telling himself that.

'Hi Subeera, I hope you're OK. I'm here if you want to talk. It's not the same without you.' Alex's thumb hovered on the send button. He sighed deeply and took a sip of beer, then he pressed down.

'Thanks Alex. I'm as good as I can be.'

'What's happening? Are you coming back?'

Subeera read his message, started typing a lot, but didn't send anything. When she didn't reply after a minute Alex put his phone away, looked towards the door. It was 1 minute past 8; the woman he was due to meet hadn't turned up, although he told himself he shouldn't worry yet. The bar was largely empty and the handful of customers here were all men.

The door swung open. As Alex watched, his DCI walked in and he sucked in his breath in shock. DCI Fletcher swaggered straight to the bar, pushing ahead of a couple of hipster-looking guys. Alex's heart sank at the thought of the big boss seeing him sat here nursing his beer like some sad sack, all dressed up, waiting for someone who hadn't turned up. Fletcher didn't even give Alex a glance as he took his drink and walked to the back of the bar.

Then the door opened and Alex's jaw dropped open.

She was even more gorgeous than her pictures said she would be. She was dressed in a skirt an inch or two above the knee. Her blonde hair was styled in curls around her head. Her face looked somehow familiar. Maybe just deja vu. She spotted him instantly and walked towards his table. He held a hand out awkwardly. These things were always like job interviews and never did he feel that more than now. 

'All right, I'm Alex,' he said.

'I'm Corinne,' she said. She sounded South London. 'Sorry I'm a bit late. I hope you weren't waiting long.'

'No, no, it's fine,' Alex said, slightly breathless. 'Can I - can I get you something to drink?'

'That would be nice,' Corinne said, giving a slight smile. 'Can you get me a glass of wine? Just the house red.'

Alex stood up, shaky on his feet, worried about messing up. He walked to the bar and ordered Corinne's glass of wine, his hands starting to sweat. As he waited he realised he had left the phone on the table but he didn't care. There was something very familiar about Corinne's features, he thought. He had to have met her before, but where? He wasn't great at recognising faces, especially when he so badly wanted this face to be one of someone he could get on great with.

Maybe even something more.

He looked back at Corinne. Her eyes rested on him as she smiled. He hadn't told her he was a copper, though it wasn't a secret, you never knew how people would react - and he could just picture the DCI coming over and talking shop with him just to embarrass him and show him up. Fletcher could be a piece of work at times. It had been a baptism of fire just learning how to manage him.

'So,' he said as he lowered himself back into his seat. It was old and let out a fart of air as he sat down. 'Hey.'

'Hey,' Corinne said. She looked at Alex with those green eyes. He had to ask.

'Do I -' he stammered. 'Do I know you from somewhere?'

'I don't think so,' Corinne smiled. 'Why? Where d'you think you know me from?'

'Um. You look like.' Alex gulped. 'You look like...like.' Oh shite. 'You look like someone...I went to school with.' He drew in his breath.

'Maybe,' Corinne said. 'Definitely could have been. I must...have that kind of face.'

'I didn't mean -' Alex said, picking up his drink, taking a small sip. Trust him to say the wrong thing. It was clearly already going to his head and it didn't even seem that strong. That's what happens when you barely go out, he thought.

Corinne shrugged. 'Don't worry.' She lifted the glass of wine to her lips carefully. 'These things are so awkward, aren't they? It's hard carrying on a conversation, avoiding the silences.'

'Definitely,' Alex said, his ears starting to rush. 'So tell me about you. What do you do?'

For a second Corinne looked stricken by his question, so much so that Alex felt guilty. 'It's complicated,' she stuttered. 'I - work remotely. For a few different clients. A lot is consultancy work...advising them on the best ways forward. Things like that.' Alex discerned the slight edge to her voice and nodded a bit too enthusiastically. Not everyone wanted to talk about work the whole time.

There was more to life. Wasn't there?

'Oh, so, like, business coaching?' The ringing in his ears intensified.

'Something like that.' Corinne sipped her wine. 'What about you?' She paused and said in an almost childlike tone, 'You did tell me in the chat. You're a copper, aren't you?'

'Yeah,' Alex said. 'I don't remember telling you that, mind. But I must've.'

'I...hope you don't mind me saying. You have such a cute accent, Alex.'

Alex felt the blood rushing to his face. It wasn't every day he heard that. Usually people tried not to mention it and a few, like the ones he'd worked with at the start, were out and out arseholes about it. In spite of the physical discomfort he was trying hard to ignore something swelled in his chest. He felt more confident. 'Ah. Cheers. Well, that's an unexpected compliment.'

'What cases are you working on, Alex?' Corinne said. 'If you don't mind...'

'Cases? Ah, you see, lovely as as you are, I can't tell you that.' Alex grinned. 'I saw my boss walk in; far as I know he's still here.' He gripped his beer glass. A cardboard coaster was stuck to it. 'Don't think he'd be happy if he knew I was talking about that with someone I barely knew.'

'Maybe if I got you drunk,' Corinne said innocently. 'Would you tell me then?'

'Agh. Maybe. Depends how drunk.' He lifted the beer to his lips and took several deep gulps. The beer had a slight bitter tinge, almost imperceptible and Alex wouldn't even have noticed if it wasn't for the fact his feet started feeling wobbly, twitching as he sat. His eyes swam slightly. There was no denying he was a lightweight, he thought. It wasn't such a bad thing.

But he was starting to feel queasy. His stomach felt squeezed, rock hard and not in a good way. It was hard to breathe. Sweat was soaking through his shirt. He stood up, his head spinning, feeling like people's eyes were on him. Where was Fletcher? 'Sorry. I'm just off to the gents.'

He staggered towards the back of the bar, feeling like he was on a boat, the floor rising up and down. Somewhere in the bar, Fletcher's laugh echoed and Alex tried to turn around but he couldn't spot his boss. He didn't quite understand how he'd got into the toilets with its harsh light that seemed to make his eyes hurt. He lurched for one of the urinals, his fingers brushing the cold porcelain with his hands, grasping for something to grip onto and then he banged his knee and it hurt and he didn't know how this happened but he was on the ground, throwing up.

He kept thinking of Corinne's hair, her soft high pitched voice. He tried to scramble off the floor and all he managed was vomiting all over his hands.

Beside him, Subeera leaned back in her seat. There had been an accident somewhere and they'd been stuck for at least 15 minutes. Case Report played in the background.

The guest, Carly, said in a childlike tone, 'What's the Blood Libel?'

'It's a legend from hundreds of years ago saying Jews drank children's blood. These stories can kill people -'  The host, Donna, was livid. Alex sat there stunned. He saw Subeera's fingers tighten on the steering wheel.

'But he did drink someone's blood. I saw him. Are you saying you don't believe me?'

Subeera shook her head as Donna shouted over her speaker. 'Know what gets me vexed? People thinking they can come to me with these...these Jew conspiracies, thinking I'll agree with 'em.'

'I...guess,' Alex said.

'They had a tapestry on the wall depicting the devil himself. Just because you cannot see demonic forces, does not mean they do not exist,' Carly continued in her quiet voice.

Subeera snorted. 'Nutjob innit.'

Carly.

He tried to get her voice back but it was slipping away. Had he spoken to her when they found Erica Scott? Alex thought she was speaking nearby but he couldn't understand the words. Acid burned his throat as he tried to get up. He heard noise and movement around him as he lay on the cold floor. Someone was speaking to him. A man. His brain couldn't connect and he struggled to register the words.

'Mackie? Everything OK? You've had too much to drink.'

He tried to open his mouth at Fletcher's words but it was stuck, his lips cracked and dry. No sound came out as he struggled to breathe. He felt Fletcher's firm hand gripping his, then someone else's, light fingernails digging into his skin. He twisted his head to look, the light blinding him.

'Alex,' Corinne - no, Carly stroked his arm. The affectionate gesture felt like a violation. He couldn't speak to protest. 'It's going to be OK. We're going to call you a taxi. You're going to be all right.'

'Don't,' Alex tried to gasp as they pulled him to his leaden feet. All that came out was a splutter.

As he blacked out, Alex thought he saw the DCI smiling.