The problem was, it was difficult to take him seriously when he spoke to her like that. As if he’d already decided to disapprove of her explanation, before she’d even got a chance to give it. So far, the best thing about this encounter was how it was helping her to remember all the reasons they hadn’t been right for each other. Which was a hell of a lot less painful than remembering those moments when she’d felt as if she’d finally found her soulmate.

‘Okay,’ she said, swallowing her irritation. ‘A woman called Annie Holden lives in that house. I came to London today because I want to speak to her.’

‘About what?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘Of course it matters,’ Ed said. ‘You’re a journalist, Dee. There’s only one reason you’re trying to speak to someone who clearly doesn’t want to speak to you. It’s a story you’re working on, isn’t it?’

‘No, actually. That’s not why I’m here. Besides, how do you know she doesn’t want to speak to me?’

He smiled, and Dee’s stomach did that irritating flip-flop thing it did whenever he looked at her the way he was looking at her right now.

‘Do you really need a detective to work it out for you?’

Dee smiled back. She couldn’t help it.

‘You mean if she’s got someone to lie about her living there, the chances are she’s avoiding me.’

‘I’d say that’s a pretty reasonable assumption.’

‘If I tell you why I’m really here,’ Dee said, ‘do you promise – I mean absolutely promise, so you can’t change your mind no matter what I tell you – to just hear me out without interrupting and giving your opinion?’

‘I’ll do my best.’

‘Good. Although the truth is, I don’t even know where to start. It’s so complicated.’

‘When isn’t it complicated with you?’

‘Shut up.’

‘Sorry.’ He sat back, crossed his legs and said he was ready to listen.

She told him everything, starting with meeting the woman she thought was her cousin in Gordon’s Wine Bar, ending with the conversation she’d had with Emer on the phone last night.

‘So?’ she said, when she’d finished, ‘What do you think?’

She expected him to jump right in and tell her the whole thing sounded every bit as crazy as she’d warned him it would. Instead, he remained very quiet, as if he was carefully considering everything she’d told him. Unless, of course, the account had left him so lost for words he didn’t know what to say.

‘Ed?’

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m trying to make some sort of sense of it, that’s all.’

‘That’s the problem,’ Dee said, ‘it doesn’t make any sense.’