"You're right about me. I can't hide it anymore. I......I am not up to it."
"I doubt there is anyone of us who finds that easy. When we are at the scene, we get on with it. There is a process. We are trained. But once we are on our own, it's different. McCormack dreams of his perfect pub. Sanders takes his kids out. He thinks we don't know, but Kent has a little cry in the bulk of the car park. You said you are not up to it, but being up to it has got nothing to do with the dead. Being up to it is turning up in the next morning at 9 am no matter what. So eat up, sir."
"What about you? What do you do?"
"When I get home I go straight to my garden. My pond. There's been a seat there, away from the house, a bit of privacy. I feed my fish. I get carp, real beauties. They come up, take the food out of my hand. The fish save me. My job, my marriage. Might get yourselves some fish, better then crying in the car park."