"Oh, I don't care," Shona replied. "I'm as much of an opportunist as Belinda. Goes with the territory, I'm afraid." She fell silent and looked at Tommy. Tommy didn't say anything. An awkward silence ensued. After a moment, I broke it.

“Sorry," I said instinctively, glancing from one to the other. "I shouldn't have come. This is clearly private. But I couldn't help thinking . . .” I tailed off hopelessly. What couldn't I help thinking?

“That it concerns you," finished Shona. "And you're right, it does. At least — indirectly."

I glanced at Tommy, but his eyes were averted. He looked wretched. Seemed intent on the wood grain of the table. Eventually his eyes came up to meet mine.

"Hugo," he said quietly.

"Right." My heart stilled a moment: then pumped frantically. "Oh, what?"

They exchanged a glance. Shona raised her eyebrows for a green light from Tommy and he nodded curtly, looking sleep deprived again, I noticed, his handsome face gray and drawn, not an ironic joke or snide remark in sight. He took a sip of what looked like bourbon. Shona took a deep breath. Looked at me squarely.

"I met Ted Fleming today, as you know."

"Yes, you told me," I said. "And I saw him earlier. You interviewed him about a beach clear-up he was doing?"

"Yes, well, ostensibly that was the ruse to get me out there. And we did do that interview. But what he really wanted to talk to me about was Bellingdon Water."

"Again?" I was appalled. "I thought Hugo had talked to him about all that. Had a meeting up at the house, assured him they were cleaning up their act — I thought Ted was happy? Well. Satisfied, anyway."

"Up to a point. And Bellingdon are cleaning up on the Bio-Bead front, as all these independent subcontracting companies are having to, even though it doesn't always suit them financially. But Fleming is on to something else. Bellingdon Water, and more specifically the infrastructure it provides — the pipelines, the pumps — are apparently responsible for the most sewage leaks and the most water pollution, the most fish-and-marine-life poisoning, in the entire country. Far worse than any other subcontractor providing to all the major water boards in the UK."

I stared at her. “Rubbish!”

She shook her head. “True.”

"It can't be. They've always been so rigorous about that sort of thing, so big on the environment. Roger's got an award in his study — he's got that wrong."

"He hasn't got it wrong."

"But . . . no, rubbish, I would know. I would know, Shona." I clenched my fists.

"No one knows. Because somebody has seen fit to cover tracks and massage the figures and lose a lot of the records."

My mouth dried. "Hugo."