I love Edwin’s clumsy kindness; the way he struggles to connect with and understand people but he tries.

He tells Charles when they first meet that he’s not good with people. He probably never has been, and hell can’t have helped (70 years alone, where he had to close himself off against any empathy because if he tried to stop to help anyone else it would cost him time he didn’t have.) We see how he stumbles in his efforts to engage with strangers, how he doesn’t understand Monty’s interest in him, how he struggles to sympathise with Crystal’s fears, how sharpness comes easier for him than vulnerability.

But he tries and he keeps trying. He doesn’t have the context or the emotional intelligence to understand Charles’ headspace after the Devlin house, but he keeps offering to listen, to help if he can. He reassures Crystal that it’s who she is now that matters. He catches himself when Shelby snaps at him, and listens gently to her, and doesn’t try to dismiss her version of events again, even though he’s reserving judgment.

He’s not good with people, but he spent 35 years risking being sent back to hell so other people could have the justice he never got. He doesn’t see the hurt that Charles carries around, but he gave him an afterlife where he was loved completely and unconditionally and felt safe. (As long as I’ve got my best mate, and a case to solve, I’m aces.) He’s scared shitless of how Crystal is upending the most important relationship of his existence, but he’s not going to let her get hurt.