Sitting in the back of Rachel’s converted MPV, I made small talk with Henry, who was a giant of a man, barely able to fit inside the huge vehicle. I was slightly disappointed that he wasn’t wearing a bandanna or a leather jacket. Instead, he wore a checked shirt that looked like it was going to pop open at any minute. He was like the Incredible Hulk with white skin and a ginger beard. When he laughed, which he did frequently, the car shook.

‘Do you normally ride a Harley?’ I asked. ‘Rachel took me on the back of hers. It was terrifying.’ Although, really, I had found it exciting, exhilarating even.

‘I’ll have to take you for a ride sometime – if you think Rachel rides fast . . .’ His laughter boomed and reverberated around the people carrier and he squeezed Rachel’s knee.

‘Not when I’m driving,’ she said, keeping her eyes on the road.

He smiled at her but Rachel’s expression remained unamused. Henry gave me a look that said ‘Women, huh?’ before turning back to the front. I wondered if they would argue about it later, if he would be annoyed that she publically rejected him, if he would see it like that.

I looked back at Tilly.

‘Why would Charlie tell me she wasn’t on Facebook?’

She didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. ‘I don’t know. Maybe she doesn’t want you stalking her on there. Watching what she’s up to.’

‘She probably wants to avoid that whole “in a relationship” dilemma,’ Henry said.

I mulled this over. ‘I can understand that she might have felt like that at first. And if she said she didn’t want us to be friends on Facebook because it’s a bit naff or awkward or whatever, that would be cool. But I’m surprised she lied to me about it.’

‘Ah, it’s only a white lie,’ Tilly said.

I got my phone out, went to my Facebook app and found Tilly’s account. Scrolling through her friend list I found Charlie, using her unshortened name, Charlotte. I tried to look at her wall but I was completely blocked from seeing her posts. I felt genuinely hurt that she’d lied to me about it.

‘She never lets me go to her flat, either,’ I said, almost to myself. ‘I feel really worried now. What’s she hiding?’

Henry snorted. ‘Maybe she’s leading a secret life. She’s probably married, with kids. You’re her dirty secret.’

‘Oh yes, you hear about things like that, don’t you?’ Rachel said, pulling in to the car park of the country pub where we were having dinner.

The three of them laughed like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. But this, piled on top of Karen’s death – and everything else – made me feel cold and nauseated.