Digested week: leak mystery solved but I’m lost on Line of Duty | John Crace

Blame nominative determinism for the shower and TV overload for me failing to follow the plot

Typical. We had one job ... Our daughter, whom we hadn't seen for the best part of 18 months, was coming to London and all we had to do was to get to Heathrow in time to meet her as she passed through immigration and customs controls. It didn't quite work out that way. First, we were halfway to the airport when my wife, Jill, remembered she had forgotten the We Love You, Anna" placard she had made that morning. Then Jill checked the flight tracker and discovered Anna's plane had landed 45 minutes early, rather than the 30 minutes early the app had suggested when we last looked. No matter, I said. There are bound to be long queues at arrivals to make sure everyone's Covid certification is in order. After all, there had been reports of six-hour delays the previous week, which is why we had both bought books with us. Not long afterwards, we got a text from Anna that her vaccinations, pre-booked Covid tests and passenger locator form were all in order and she had cleared immigration. OK, I said. She still needed to collect her suitcase, and that would be at least another half an hour. Ten minutes later, just as we pulled into the short-term car park, we got a further text to say Anna had got her case and was on the way out. We parked the car, raced into the terminal ... Only to find Anna already waiting for us. It was a wonderful hug. One that felt both very special yet weirdly normal at the same time. Almost as if 18 months of separation had been condensed into 10 seconds of physical contact. Jill and Anna did almost all the talking on the way home as I was lost for words. Still, I now have two and a half weeks to find them.