As they explored the house Charles thought of the search team in Daniel’s at that moment. They’d have picked his locks, disabled his alarm – with ease, apparently – and filmed everything to ensure they left it exactly as it was. When Daniel left Westminster he would be followed by a surveillance team, who would warn the search team if he was heading for home. There was a back-up plan to block his street with a broken vehicle, or stage an accident, in case he or Akela were lost by surveillance and turned up unexpectedly. MI5 were nothing if not thorough.

‘Could do floor-to-ceiling shelves here,’ said Daniel as they stood on the landing upstairs. ‘So long as you find somewhere else for that trunk.’

It was an old seaman’s trunk that had been in Sarah’s family for generations. ‘I’d have to take advice on that.’

‘Or just four shelves above it if it stays where it is.’

Daniel had been there only about half an hour; the search team really wanted a clear hour. Charles had already shown Daniel the leaking back door. ‘Tea or coffee?’ he offered. ‘There’s soup and bread too if we fancy it.’

‘I’m good, thanks.’

‘But you need to eat. I’m going to have some. It’s vegetable soup.’

‘Okay, may as well. Got out of the habit of eating in the middle of the day but no harm, I guess.’

They ate at the kitchen table. Daniel drank water, Charles reluctantly following suit. They talked about self-employment, finding business, bad debts and the attractions of carpentry. Daniel had initially been attracted by the feel and smell of wood, the skills had not been difficult to acquire, given patience and application, and modern tools made the work much easier.

‘I admire the older carpenters,’ he said, ‘the blokes who did it all with hand tools, no power or anything. The skill, the artistry sometimes, the attention to detail. It’s wonderful to behold when you come across old work hidden behind walls or in lofts. In fact, I’ve started collecting old tools from boot sales or wherever. Sometimes people I’m working for give me odd bits and pieces, old planes and drills and so on. They’re attractive objects in themselves. I polish them up but occasionally I use them if I’m not in a hurry or I’m doing a bit of work for myself. Keeps my hand in. You know that old saying, it’s a bad workman that blames his tools? Well, the truth, the real truth of that, lies in the fact that in the olden days craftsmen made their own tools.’