The phone was Clancy’s.

He’d been holding it last night when Lee had arrived and he must have slipped it into his pocket out of habit. Hooked up to his satellite broadband, the phone was still receiving this morning and it wasn’t until he’d seen that awful notification that he realised what he’d done.

So there went a lazy Sunday morning. He must return Clancy’s property.

And only a monster, having read the first part of that message, would shove the phone at her and run.

He went downstairs to let Nelson outside, while he thought. The garden was a mess of empty beer cans and bottles left by those people who evidently couldn’t be bothered to dump their empties in the box he’d provided. He gathered up the debris, grumbling under his breath. At least none of the bottles had smashed, a huge hazard for unwary paws.

Nelson sniffed around for pizza crumbs, bushy eyebrows twitching.

By the time Aaron had finished it was nine-forty-five. He tapped the home button on Clancy’s phone again and took another guilty look at the shitty beginning to the message Will had sent. It had now been joined by an iMessage notification from someone called Asila, her avatar a pretty Asian woman with glasses. Clancy, can you ring me ASAP, hon? xxx Will’s avatar was a well-groomed guy with stylish blond hair. Aaron pushed his fingers through his permanently ruffled curls self-consciously. He rocked an ungroomed look himself.

He put down Clancy’s phone and rang the Roundhouse landline. The ring tone sounded a few times before Clancy answered, sounding faintly puzzled. Probably she hadn’t given the number out. ‘Hello?’ she said, then, probably remembering that occasionally somebody telephoned to book. ‘Roundhouse Row.’

‘It’s Aaron,’ he said. ‘I have your mobile phone. I must have stuck it into my pocket after taking the photo of you and the sunset. Sorry.’

‘I thought that was probably what had happened.’ She gave a small laugh. ‘In the Nelson’s Bar “not spot” I only use it for taking photos so I didn’t miss it until this morning.’

It was nice to hear her laugh but he had a feeling he was about to be a mood changer. He cleared his throat. ‘Um, thing is, I’ve got a silver iPhone too, so I tried to unlock it, thinking it was mine. It was only when I read the first part of a message on your lock-screen that I realised it wasn’t.’

‘OK.’ She sounded so unconcerned that she obviously wasn’t getting a subtext.

He had to be blunt. ‘The message is a WhatsApp from Will and it’s about something you need to know. Come up here and download the rest on my Wi-Fi if you want.’

Silence. Then he heard her take a long breath. ‘I’m guessing it’s nothing good?’

At that moment, there were few things he wanted less than to be asked to read what he could see of the message out. ‘You should read it for yourself,’ he said gruffly. ‘I’ll be in until about twelve-thirty, then I’m going to my parents’ for lunch. Come round the back. I’ll be in the garden or kitchen.’