Trudy rushed forward and helped her lean back against the settee, and with a nod from Clement, they both put a hand under each of her armpits and helped her up and back onto the settee. She was so slight it didn’t require much effort.

Under her make-up, however, Trudy could see that she was still deathly pale.

‘Did … Did I hear you say that Terry … Terry’s d-dead?’ she asked, the last word little more than a whisper.

‘We don’t yet have a formal identification, Mrs Vander, but yes it seems very likely,’ Trudy said with genuine sympathy. ‘A car was found crashed earlier this morning. A Riley.’ She cited the number plate, which she had written down in her notebook, but it was clear from the dazed look in her eyes, that Millie was in no state to either confirm or deny that she recognised it. ‘The man inside had a driver’s licence made out to Terrence James Parker. Did he attend your party in a Riley, Mrs Vander?’

‘Yes, oh yes, he did,’ Millie confirmed miserably.

‘I take it he’s a good friend?’ Trudy persisted softly. ‘Have you known him long?’

Millie drew in a long, shuddering breath, and closed her eyes for a moment. Then her shoulders straightened and her lips pinched tighter together. Trudy recognised all the signs of a woman getting herself firmly under control. A long, tense moment passed in silence, then the older woman pushed back the hair from her face and hugged herself around the middle.

‘No, not really,’ she finally said. And now Trudy was sure she could sense caution in the woman’s manner. ‘I met him last year … No, sorry, of course we’re into a new year now, aren’t we, so it’ll be the year before last. I’m sorry, I don’t seem to be … Oh, Jasper, thank you.’

Her green eyes fastened on her returning son like a drowning woman spotting a ship in the distance. She reached out with unsteady hands for the cup he held, and Trudy wasn’t surprised to hear the cup rattling against the saucer as she drew it towards her.

Somewhat to Trudy’s surprise, her son sat down beside Millie, gently took the crockery from her and helped guide the cup to her lips. ‘Come on, old girl, take a small sip and then tell me what’s up then, hmmm?’ he asked.

He shot Trudy a savage glance, then Clement a more thoughtful one.

‘Oh Jasper, something t-terrible happened,’ she said. ‘T … one of our guests crashed his car on his way home last night. Oh, darling, he’s dead.’