‘The restaurants on Allerton Road where she takes us when we hit our targets. And then, when we thought that’s about it, my colleague Carly Cross reminded us all of the summer of 2018 when it was really hot. One Saturday she told us we had to dress down for work on Sunday because of the heatwave. We all showed up in our shorts and T-shirts and there was Norma with hampers of food and coolboxes full of bottles of wine and beer. It was a big surprise. Norma took us to Crosby Beach. She’d hired a bus and a driver so we could all have a drink if we wanted. I sat behind her on the bus and I asked what’s this for, Norma? It turned out it was a very special anniversary for her, but she wouldn’t give anything else away. Just that she loved Crosby Beach and it’s a place she comes to every so often to look across the water, see what floats off to nowhere, and watch the comings and goings.’

‘She used that expression, see what floats off to nowhere?’ checked Cole.

‘Yes.’

‘What was the date?’

Carolyn considered the question for a few moments.

‘Sunday, 19th August, 2018.’

‘What kind of a day did you have?’ asked Cole, pulling up a map of Crosby Beach on his laptop and looking at the relationship between the Irish Sea, the beach and the network of roads leading down to the sand.

‘Strange. One minute she was really happy, the next she was withdrawn. By half eleven most people were muttering that they wanted to go home, but they couldn’t because they were on office hours and we had to stay until four o’clock, Sunday closing time. It was unpleasantly hot and the beach was crowded.

‘She had a couple of glasses of wine and started saying how much she loved swimming in the sea. I thought to myself, maybe she likes Crosby Beach because that’s where she used to go before her accident. Then she started going on about her father, how he drowned in the Irish Sea. He’d gone out alone in a motor boat and his body was washed up on the shore. She said it was suicide but he never left a note. The bizarre thing was, she smiled as she told the whole story about her father.’

‘That’s very helpful, Carolyn,’ said Cole.

‘It was well meaning of her, but altogether it was a horrible day. Oh, yeah. She asked Des, one of the lads, to push her down to the water’s edge so that she could get a closer look at the Iron Men. It nearly killed him getting her wheelchair across the sand and back.’

‘Did she say anything to Des?’

‘No. She got a bit weepy. Des thought it was a combination of too much sun and too much wine. That really is all, DC Cole.’