The younger one stepped forward to ring the bell then turned to say a couple of words. A moment later, the door was opened by DS Thomas, who stood aside to let them in. She’d got away with it, Robin thought, but then, just before he stepped over the threshold, the older of the two men turned to look at her. DI Webster. He caught her eye and gave her a single nod.

Chapter Fifteen

Doing things quickly was not one of Lennie’s strong suits, so it was a surprise to see her among the first out of school. She stalked across the playground with her head down, on a mission. Behind her, kids foamed through the double doors like a pot boiling over, a bubbling hormonal mass of blazers and backpacks. If part of the point of school uniform was to render teenagers as unattractive as possible, Savvy’s – shapeless black trousers, white shirt, shiny black blazer – was an unequivocal success. The white kids – boys and girls – looked like third-rate snooker players from the Eighties, basically translucent after years without natural light, raised on chips. At RPG, most of the girls looked as if they spent the summer on yachts off St Tropez and some of them probably did. At least that pressure was off. She’d wanted the top-notch education for Lennie but not the nagging sense they were poor relations tolerated because Len was bright. Or what she thought of as the Octavia von Country-Estate factor: ‘Henrietta tells me you’re a detective. How very … exotic!’

Lennie opened the door and dropped into the seat next to her. ‘Hi, Mum.’

‘Hi, lovely.’

‘Can we go? We’re right outside. I thought you’d wait round the corner like Gran does.’

‘Sorry.’ She started the engine and indicated to pull out just as a coach cruised alongside, blocking her in. ‘How was your day?’

‘Pall Mall.’ It was one of their in-jokes, Del Boy French – ‘Bonnet de douche, Rodney!’ – but it was a half-hearted effort.

‘What do you fancy doing? We could go for a walk, have a hot chocolate …’

‘Do you mind if we just go home?’

‘Really?’ God. ‘No, of course not. Probably a good idea.’

Lennie wrapped her arms round her knees, feet on the seat. Robin thought about telling her off then decided against it.

‘What do you think of your new teachers? Anyone good?’

‘Too early to tell, really.’

‘How about the science ones – chemistry? Biology?’ Ms Rosetti, the biology teacher at RPG, had been Lennie’s favourite.

She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Not sure.’ She turned to the window and rested her head against the glass. For a couple of minutes they drove without talking, Robin’s guilt now laced with a sense of rejection that even she knew was unreasonable. Suddenly, though, Len lifted her head.

‘Why have you never told me about that guy?’

‘Which guy?’

‘The one Grandpa told the police about.’