‘Oh, yes. Yes,’ I agreed quickly. ‘For the purposes of fiction. And, when you say acquitted, it would definitely go to court?’

‘Definitely. You can’t just run around killing people. Even if there are mitigating circumstances.’

‘No. No, of course not.’ I realized my mouth was very dry. ‘Could I possibly trouble you for a glass of water?’

‘Of course.’

He ran the tap until it was cold, got a glass from the cupboard, filled it and passed it to me. As I drank, I was aware of his dark eyes upon me. Curious but kind eyes. I put the glass down carefully, keen not to break anything else. The first time he’d met me I’d broken a milk jug, but luckily he seemed to have forgotten. I don’t suppose I made much impression either way.

‘Thank you,’ I told him, making myself meet his steady gaze. ‘You’ve been very helpful.’

He followed me to the door. ‘Are you going to be all right to drive? You look a bit …’

‘Oh yes, I’ll be fine. Thank you.’ I forced a bright smile.

‘And I hope you find your purse.’

He saw me look startled. He’d said it gently, however, not with any low cunning. I swallowed. ‘Yes. Thank you.’

I turned and went down the steps to my car. It was around the corner, on a meter, now that I no longer had a permit. I didn’t look back, but I was aware of the door not having closed, because I knew the sharp click it made, however softly you tried to shut it. And trust me, I’d tried many times. So I knew he was still on the top step, watching me as I walked away.

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