‘Probably not. And they were our dreams, not just mine. We didn’t really need four bedrooms once the girls had gone. We always used to say that, when we retired, we’d think about leaving Shelling and moving into a smaller house. Oh, still in Norfolk, obviously, but somewhere we could see the sea from the window, listen to it at night, take moonlit walks on the shore, you know. That’s not going to happen now though, is it? And we’d get a spaniel. A little girl. Barb wanted to call her Flush, like the one the Brownings had.’

‘The Brownings?’

‘Robert. Elizabeth Barrett. You know, the poets. She was into all that love poetry stuff, was my Barb. How do I love thee, Let me count the ways, and all that. Could recite so many of those old verses off by heart. She had a lovely reading voice. I doubt if she’d even recognise one of those poems now if she heard it, let alone be able to remember the words. No, it’s all gone. The poetry, the retirement, the dog …’

Madi reached for his hand. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘Don’t say anything. No need.’ He shook her off and rummaged in the small shoulder bag he had brought with him, pulling out a thermos flask and cups. ‘Time for a cuppa, I think, don’t you? And one of your favourite custard creams.’

Madi laughed. ‘I wondered what you were hiding in that bag. I won’t say no though … Do you think the tide is coming in or going out?’

‘Can’t say I’ve noticed really. Not been here long enough to spot the difference. Why?’

‘Just making sure we’re not going to find ourselves knee-deep in water all of a sudden.’

‘Madi, I was a firefighter. If needs must, I will pick you up and sling you over my shoulder, if only to keep you dry.’

‘Well, thank you, kind sir, but I’m sure that won’t be necessary.’

‘Is that your phone ringing?’

‘I don’t know. Is it?’ Madi thrust her hand into the depths of her handbag. ‘It’s hard to hear it over the sounds of the sea.’

‘Ignore it anyway. Whoever it is can wait. This is meant to be our getting-away-from-it-all day.’

‘No, I can’t do that. It might be important. It might be George.’

Tom raised his eyebrows. ‘Really?’

‘You never know.’ Madi found the phone and peered at the screen. ‘That’s odd. It’s Faith. What on earth can she want?’

‘You’d better answer it and find out. Probably another invitation to tea, although she did know we were coming here this morning, so it could have waited …’

‘Hello?’

Tom watched as Madi listened to the voice at the other end of the line, her face turning pale, her expression suddenly deadly serious.

‘Right. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

‘What’s happened? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.’

‘It’s Prue. She’s been found unconscious, in my flat. Looks like someone attacked her and then just left. Faith and Stuart are already in their car on their way up to London.’