So they sat together in the corner where she read to the children and encouraged them to join in songs and counting games, and she told him about Ursula Ottway’s outburst on Friday night, breaking off occasionally when one of the children needed her attention.

‘I had a phone call this morning from someone called Palmer-Jones,’ she said, just as the inspector was leaving. ‘He says he’s working for Marcus Grenville. He’s asked me to meet him. Would you have any objection to that?’

The inspector paused, opened the door into the corridor. ‘No, Miss Theobald,’ he said. ‘ No objection at all.’ He smiled easily as if at some private joke.

She got to the pub early but still Palmer-Jones was there before her, sitting at a table in the gloomy dining room. He stood up when she came in, obviously quite certain of her identity. She supposed that Marcus Grenville had described her to him and again felt resentful. When she had taken on Jeremy she had not expected this fuss, this intrusion in her private life.

He asked her what she would like to drink and she ordered a pint of bitter, defiantly, knowing she would regret it when she had to cope with the kids in the afternoon. Then she chose the most expensive meal on the menu. She expected him to ask the same questions as the inspector, to go over again the scene on Friday night, her perception of Ursula’s state of mind and the reaction of the Grenville family. Instead he asked about her.

‘I understand that you’re an active member of the Appleworth Animal Rights Group,’ he said.

She shrugged. ‘Not so active any more.’

‘Oh?’ he said. ‘Why?’ It was not polite conversation.

She tried to make light of it, but she wanted him to understand too. ‘I’ve grown out of all that. It was fun at first – the sense of outrage, the idea that your action could make some real change – but I realised it was all bullshit, all talk.’

‘It had nothing to do, then, with your relationship with Jeremy Grenville?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘Why should it?’ She was going to add that she would let no man tell her what to do, then realised that it sounded trite. She sensed that the man at the other side of the table would see through bullshit too.

‘But your sympathies still lie with the animal rights movement? You still disapprove of field sports?’

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Anyone with any sensitivity disapproves of field sports.’

‘It must have been rather difficult for you on Friday night, then, while Ursula was making her allegations. You must have been tempted to support her?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I was tempted to support her. But I didn’t have the guts. They’re an intimidating lot, the Grenvilles.’

‘So you didn’t say anything at the time?’