‘They’re still hanging around the house. As long as Talbin stays, so will the rest of them.’ She saw that the name meant nothing to Sophie. ‘He’s the one who held your door open, little weasel-faced man.’

‘I remember him. He was horrible.’

‘Yes, but he’s known to be tenacious when he thinks there’s a story to be had, so if this goes on, it may be better for you to make a press statement to get rid of them.’

‘As long as they stay on the street and away from my front door, they can hang around all they want. At this stage in a book, I don’t even want to go out of the house.’

Donna stood up. She knew when to let something drop. She’d sown a few seeds – well, she hoped she had. ‘Since you’re busy I won’t intrude any longer, but please don’t hesitate to call me if there’s anything, anything at all, that I can do for you. Jez’s instructions.’

‘He’s doing more than enough already.’

Donna was thoughtful as she drove back. A nice woman, Sophie Carr, but too soft for her own good. She’d borrow one of the books from Jez, see if it gave any clues to the author’s personality. He seemed very concerned about his rescuer, which had surprised those who knew him. Otherworldly, he’d called her, and his voice had been warm when he spoke about her.

Maybe he was right, and she was otherworldly, but there was a hidden strength in the woman too, if Donna was any judge – and she was well paid to be a judge of character. Sophie Carr wasn’t whining and complaining about the annoyance the paparazzi were causing; she was quietly getting on with her life.

As she drove away, Donna reviewed the rest of her day’s work. After she’d sorted out the security thing, she had to find Jez somewhere to live. She’d enjoy that. She loved looking round houses.

Chapter Three

To Sophie’s surprise, the security firm could come and do the preliminary planning on her house that very afternoon. Sighing, she agreed to let Donna bring them round at two o’clock, then went back to work again.

The afternoon post fell through the letterbox onto the tiled hall floor at one o’clock, bringing an envelope addressed to her by hand. She didn’t recognise the sender’s writing so opened that one first, smiling at herself. Curiosity was undoubtedly one of her besetting sins.

Dear Ms Carr

I hope you’ve recovered from your unpleasant experience of yesterday. I just wanted to set the record straight, in case you think I was at your house yesterday to hound you – I wasn’t, though it must have looked that way. I was there because I’m doing an article for In Depth on the ways of the paparazzi and more obnoxious journalists. I hope you’ll keep this to yourself or I’ll not be able to continue my observations.

Yours sincerely

Peter Shane

Sophie frowned at the letter. It seemed strange that he’d taken the trouble to write to her. She remembered him clearly and she still had the business card he’d given her. Now she came to think of it, he had seemed different from the others, but she hadn’t expected to have anything to do with him again.