‘Isobel, this is a local paper, for God’s sake, not the …’

‘Not the New York fucking Times! I know, Ben! I know. But this murder, committed by a trafficked prostitute happened in the Borough of Camden. The owner of the company connected to the people who run girls, including the young woman who is being held for a murder that took place in Camden, lives in fucking Camden. The lawyer, who is a director for both companies, operates from a firm less than a mile away from where we are now.’ My voice is suddenly on the edge of screaming. ‘And what, you’re telling me you don’t want this story? Because it’s too good?’

‘No, Isobel, I’m telling you I don’t know if I want you to pursue it because for one thing, you seem pretty fucking wired right now. And for another: do you even know what this story is?’

I slap my hands against my face in frustration. ‘Not yet, because I’ve only just started looking into it! I can’t guess the story, can I? I have to uncover it, which takes time …’

Ben narrows his eyes in an expression that sits somewhere between surrender and awe. He breathes in and then exhales, throwing his hands in the air.

‘And can you prove any of this shit?’

I shake my head again, unable to prevent the smile forming on my lips. ‘Not yet. But I will.’

Chapter 81

Gabriela

‘Gabriela?’ Saoirse raises her eyes in an expression that is both pleading and concerned as Layla rests on Gabriela’s lap, her eyes flitting, drifting shut.

Mouthing the words, she asks, What is going on?

Gabriela shakes her head. ‘Later, please?’

Moving up to the spare room, she settles her daughter in the cot Saoirse has set up for her – the same one Callum slept in on visits when he was tiny, the familiar pale blue ducks lining the bumper causing a flash of memory to his little body, the crown of straw-blond hair at the back of his head.

When she hears wheels heading down the driveway a while later, Gabriela looks out from the bedroom window and sees that Saoirse’s car has gone. In its place is their family estate, the headlights hovering for a moment as she looks down, and she can just about make out Tom looking up at her from behind the steering wheel.

‘Mum!’ Callum runs towards her as they meet in the kitchen, Sadie standing back slightly and then coming in to hug her as well.

‘Hi, darlings. Oh God, it’s so good to see you. Come to bed …’

‘But it’s morning, I’m not tired,’ says Callum, his face breaking into a yawn.