I dropped Mum off at home, helping her from the car, and made sure they had some breakfast organized.

‘Too much fussing!’ my father complained when I added honey to the table he’d already laid in the kitchen. Bread was poised to pop down in the toaster, I noticed, and some bacon about to sizzle on the Aga. ‘We’re not invalids, you know.’

‘Perfectly capable!’ my mother agreed, bustling to put the kettle on, although Dad intercepted and filled it himself. He guided her to a chair. ‘After all, we’ve been managing quite nicely for sixty-odd years!’ she said as she sat.

Well, the last one was debatable. But in the small part of my brain that wasn’t preoccupied with my own drama, I made a mental note to back off and see how they coped. I told them I was going shopping for myself, and that I needed a few things from Boots. I also told them I might be quite a while and that Mum wasn’t to overdo it. Doctor’s orders. Mum barely heard me, but Dad gave me a nod. When I left – my mother tucked under a rug on the sofa, I was pleased to see – they were muttering about whether the Frobishers would be up yet, or to leave it a while longer? They glanced at me furtively, Dad perched beside Mum on a chair as I came downstairs with my handbag, clearly wishing I’d go so they could discuss it properly, in private.

I drove down the familiar country lanes. The hedgerows were a vivid green and bursting with creamy May blossom. It was a bright, cold morning with a beautiful pale blue sky, but on closer inspection, a late ground frost singed and mocked the hedgerows for their show of colour. Why did I feel that was prophetic? Relieved to be alone, I rehearsed in my head what I was going to say. I had no radio on, no CD in; only the quiet purr of the engine as a soundtrack to my thoughts. It was still early when I reached town, which was just waking up. There were precious few office workers here – they mostly went into Oxford – so it was mainly shopkeepers who greeted one another cheerily, fishing out great bunches of keys, opening up their doors.

The blue glass in the lamp above the police station door was glowing slightly in the sunshine as I parked outside. I got out and locked the car. Then I took a deep breath and went inside. A young uniformed officer was on reception. He looked up in slight surprise to see me at this hour. ‘Can I help?’

‘Yes, I’d like to …’ barely a whisper. I cleared my throat and tried again. ‘I’d like to speak to the officer I was interviewed by the last time I was here.’

He looked even more surprised. ‘And you are?’