Ben is coping with a wriggling toddler and a full diaper when he hears someone come up behind him. "Almost done," he says, dropping the diaper and wet wipes in the bin, before managing to get the fresh diaper fastened relatively straight.
"If the whole policing thing doesn't work out, you could have a future as a nanny," Kate says.
Startled, he turns to face her, flinching violently away when he sees her raise a hand. "Sorry, sorry," he mutters, at her expression of surprise and concern. "It's just every woman I meet these days wants to hit me."
"I was just going to give Betty her toy," Kate replies, holding out the stuffed bunny. She hands it to Betty, who cuddles it, cooing. "Though I have some sympathy for those women, because I'd like to shake some sense into you."
She closes the gap between them, and Ben can feel his heart start to pound, though he's not sure if it's from fear or anticipation.
"Now let's see where they hit you." She brushes her hand down the back of his head. "Germaine." Strokes his cheek. "Melody. Anybody else?"
"Serena," he replies, his hand ghosting above the bruise on his side. He shivers when she lifts up his sweater.
"Nasty." Her palm is warm against his skin, but he shivers again. "Now my turn," she says, putting both hands on his shoulders and giving him a slight shake. She steps back, and Ben feels bereft.
"I know I should have told you I was in Midsomer…"
"I understand why you didn't. I understand you needed a cover for being out of town," she interrupts. "I'm upset that you couldn't tell me you were hurting."
Ben automatically touches the back of his head. "I didn't want to worry you. And it was just a bump on the head."
"That's not what I'm talking about, and it most certainly isn't just a bump on the head. If she'd caught you square on the temple, she'd have killed you."
Ben has always found her forthrightness attractive, but there are limits, especially when she's being forthright about his possible demise.
She holds up her phone. "That's what worried me."
Ben squints at the photo of him and Betty. "Because I was holding a toddler? She's my goddaughter!"
Kate rolls her eyes. "I'm not suggesting you're a pedophile. When John sent me the picture, I just assumed you'd stopped off for a visit on your way back to Brighton, but then I looked closer and knew something was wrong."
Ben doesn't understand. He's only glanced at the picture quickly, but it seems embarrassing, rather than alarming. "Sarah loves the photo. And my gran didn't say anything."
"Your gran doesn't know how to enlarge photos on her phone. And Sarah looks at that picture and sees her daughter being adorable. I looked and saw a man just barely holding himself together. I think John saw that as well. That's why he sent it to me." She smiles. "And maybe to embarrass you a bit."
Ben remembers when the picture was taken. "I was so tired. Tired of being someone else. Tired of hurting people and never being quite good enough. But when Betty curled into me with such trust, I knew at least somebody loved me. And I thought my heart would break."
"Why?"
"Because no one ever does for long." He stares at the floor. He hates having a concussion. He can't control his emotions, and he can't hide from them.
"I think your gran might have something to say about that," Kate says. "Betty obviously thinks you're the bee's knees. And you know John and Sarah adore you. As for me," she steps closer again, "I have a weakness for dumb country plods."
Ben backs away, face burning, until he hits the changing table. He puts Betty in her cot to buy time, but he can only avoid looking at Kate for so long. "I suppose you two had a good laugh at that," he says softly.
"No one was laughing," Kate replies. "And I haven't decided whether to be sad that you think so little of yourself, or angry that you think so little of me."
"I think you're amazing!" Ben protests. "I always have. But you deserve someone with more than a diploma from Hendon."
"Do you think I care whether you have a fancy degree from a fancy college? If I wanted all brains and no heart, then I'd troll the faculty lounge. I'd like to think I deserve someone who is handsome, funny, kind, and yes, intelligent. Not to mention a cricket star." She closes the gap between them again and gives his shoulders another shake. "Do you know what else I have a weakness for? Stubble and the taste of single malt." She leans in and kisses him. "Mmm," she murmurs. "Much better than lager."
Ben wonders if the concussion is worse than he thought, and he's hallucinating - or dying. He'll take a pity kiss, though, if it's on offer. He tentatively wraps his arms around her, sighing when she leans into the hug.
"Four years," she says, when they break apart. "Is that long enough?"
"Four years?"
"I didn't just decide to kiss you today."
"Four years?" he repeats. Kate moved to Midsomer just over five years ago. Four years ago, though, they had kissed after an epic drinking session. "Your birthday party?"
"You slow-danced with me to my favourite song. Then you made sure I got home safely."
Ben remembers what Winter told him. "And I held your hair while you threw up."
She laughs. "And then you kissed me, even though I must have tasted like vomit."
"Technically, you kissed me. Not that I was objecting." He can still remember the sweet-sour of her mouth, the wonder of her body against his.
"I asked you to stay the night, and you slept on the sofa."
"You were paralytic," he protests. "That would have been taking advantage."
"And then you were gone before I woke up."
"That was the old man. He called me out on a robbery, even though…" He decides he'll tell her about Mystic Mag and the letter K another time. "Even though it was my day off, and he knew I'd be hungover." Barnaby had been downright gleeful, particularly when Ben had been forced to show up in his party clothes. "No bodies, so I let you sleep."
The next week had been Midsomer madness, quite literally, with an inbred aristo playing Peeping Tom in Midsomer Parva. Barnaby had sent him to be Johnny on the spot, with the idea that he could kip at his gran's and save on travel time or a B&B. It turned out to be a lucky decision, as Lord Loony picked his gran's window to peep through next, leading to a short but satisfying foot chase and a new story for the bridge club.
But when he got back to Causton, Kate was distant, and he figured he'd missed his window of opportunity. She even said as much at that horror movie festival. "I thought you weren't interested. I thought it was just the drink."
"You had just broken up with that firefighter. And everybody told me you didn't date in the department, so I thought it was just the drink as well."
Ben thinks about the wasted years, though for half the time he was in Brighton and she was in Causton, and that didn't have a hope in hell of working. Still, it might have made the last year a little less lonely and a lot more fun, if he'd just read her signals differently. "I'm an idiot."
"That's what I keep saying." She smiles to salve the wound. "Let me be perfectly clear. Sarah has asked me to stay for dinner. I'm going to drink too much to be able to drive back to Brighton tonight. Neither of us are sleeping on the sofa."
This time, Ben leans in to kiss her.
