‘No, it was longer ago than that. A couple of years – more, probably, by now. Also, two grand? Helpful, always, but it’s not going to stop the tide going out, is it?’

‘She’s wondering if he went to a shark.’

‘And you’re here to ask if I’ve heard anything on the vine.’

She looked at him. ‘Yeah.’

‘Like I said, it’s not fucking happening to my kids. Which means that all this – me – we’re legit. No funny business, nothing – apart from that one thing with Josh – off the books. Whatever people want to believe about my dad, I’m not connected.’

‘Right. And presumably, if Rin told you I was coming back, she told you why?’

‘She did.’

‘So I’m not connected, either. This – asking some questions, trying to work some things out – is what I can do. My thing.’

‘Right you are, then,’ he said.

Chapter Thirteen

From the cab window, the dome of the Central Mosque was lit up white against the night sky. The final prayers of the day must just have finished, and a ribbon of men was unfurling down the pavement, alone or in knots of two or three. Quick, get home, Robin thought, you’ve got to be back here again before dawn. Not for the first time, she wondered what it was like, living a life so regimented. The feeling of claustrophobia almost overwhelmed her but then she wondered if it might be liberating: when your presence was required five times a day by god, there had to be a limit to how much anyone else could expect of you in the interim.

The pay-as-you-go buzzed in her hand. ‘Booth-thing in back room, on right.’

Half an hour ago, Christine had turned from washing up the dinner things, incredulous. ‘Out? Again? When are you ever at home? It wasn’t even light this morning when you left. Poor Elena, if she—’

‘I know, it’s a lot. But it’s work. With Maggie.’ She gave her mother a meaningful look – Remember the secret stuff? – but if she got it, the idea of a woman in jeopardy apparently didn’t mitigate the disruption to her evening.

For her own part, Robin was delighted to go out again. When she’d arrived back at Dunnington Road earlier, Luke’s car was parked outside. Maybe he was just popping in, she’d hoped, but no, the dining-room table was set for five and there he was, cosily ensconced at the kitchen counter while Mummy made his favourite roast chicken.

‘Natalie gone to Zumba without leaving you any dinner, has she?’

Bitch, he mouthed then looked at Christine with puppy-dog eyes: See how mean she is to me?