In the middle of one side of the room was a wooden fireplace with space for a couple of easy chairs. Either side of it were long shelves striped with the coloured spines of books, records, tapes, and at one end a stereo. The walls were all painted a pale colour, except for the other long wall opposite the fireplace, which was a deep malachite green and covered from floor to ceiling with framed pictures.

Anna’s attention was drawn to these straight away, postponing her need to talk. A section of them near the middle were photographs of a little girl: a baby, a toddler with a cap of fine blond hair and a cheeky smile.

‘Is this your daughter?’

‘That’s Elly, yes. Of course she’s changed again now.’

‘She’s lovely.’

‘Yes – she’s great.’ He went to the fridge. ‘D’you fancy a beer?’

‘No thanks. I’ve drunk enough this evening already. Wouldn’t mind a coffee.’

She sat on one of the chairs by the fireplace. ‘I s’pose you’d rather I didn’t smoke up here?’

‘Sorry – I’d prefer it.’

‘That’s OK. It’ll be good for me. I ought to give up.’

‘I gave up when Elly was born.’

She twisted round to look at the pictures again. ‘Are these all places you’ve been?’

‘No. Places I’d like to go. Never had the chance, or made the chance, depending how you look at it.’ He was nervous, unused to having anyone in the flat and having to be sociable.

She sat in silence for a moment, aware again of the music in the room, a melancholy cello.

‘What is this?’

‘Bach. Beautiful, isn’t it?’ He handed her her coffee and sat down.

‘It sounds so sad.’

‘I suppose it does. It’s just what I seem to want to hear recently.’ This was not spoken with self-pity, but Anna felt awkward.

‘I’m sorry – I’ve barged in. Would you rather I went?’

‘No, I wouldn’t. I spend far too much time on my own.’

There was a pause, then he said, ‘What happened?’

Anna put her mug on the floor and sat back. She let out a long breath.

‘It sounds daft, but I’m not exactly sure what happened. Olivia came down after you left. She said she’d had a shock.’ She told him about the meal, the fawning affection between Olivia and Krish. ‘It was pretty sickening. I got more and more frustrated because I felt they were feeding me something, some image they wanted me to see, and I still hadn’t managed to talk to her properly about anything.’

She told Jake what had happened with Krish, growing more emotional as she spoke.

‘It wasn’t him I really minded, though. The really horrible part was her. Krish is just young and silly . . . But when I saw her standing there, absolutely still, with that look on her face . . . I couldn’t have stayed the night in that house. She’d have killed me, I’m sure. I could just see her coming round the bedroom door with a knife in her hand.’ She looked across at Jake. ‘I’ve never known anyone who’s had this effect on me before. There’s something – evil about her. You must think I’m being very hysterical.’