‘It might be better, Ms Barker, if you let Mrs Hillyer speak for herself,’ Burns said. He turned back to Tilly. ‘So you haven’t had any contact with your husband – seen him, spoken to him on the phone, received any written communication from him since his alleged death? And before you answer, please remember that lying to the police is a serious matter.’

Tilly gripped the table’s edge, eyes enormous in her pale face. ‘Are you suggesting . . .? How can you even think – I don’t believe it!’ Her voice rose wildly as the enormity of his meaning sank in and she shot to her feet. ‘Gerry loved his daughter! He dived into very dangerous water to save her! What are you saying? That he let her drown because he owed money? That he planned it? You . . . you . . . Get out!’ she screamed, livid with rage.

The constable tapped his superior’s arm. ‘Sarge, maybe you’re . . . I mean, there’s nothing to prove—’

‘And you can get out too,’ Tilly spat at him, a flood of scarlet flushing her formerly pale cheeks.

‘You’re done here,’ Sophie seconded her. ‘I’m asking you both to leave. You’re way out of order. Go strangle some kittens or something,’ she added contemptuously. ‘That ought to be right up your alley.’ Marching to the door, she swung it wide and stood there holding it, waiting for them to pass through.

‘We have inquiries to make,’ Burns said, as he stepped past her, though whether in explanation or apology neither woman could tell. ‘Not everybody likes them.’

‘Yeah, well, if you’re planning another visit you’d better bring a solicitor with you,’ Sophie snapped. ‘She won’t be speaking to you again without one.’ She returned to Tilly’s side and they stood listening to the doors slamming and the sound of the engine turning over. When the noise had faded to a faint hum she blew her breath out, saying comfortingly, ‘I doubt they’ll be back, Till.’

Tilly dropped bonelessly onto her chair. ‘How could they even think . . . Why would they think—’

‘Of course he didn’t! Where are their heads at anyway?’ Sophie demanded rhetorically. ‘Do they seriously imagine he was going to swim all the way to the islands dodging death at every stroke? And what then? It’s not as if it wasn’t the first place the searchers looked. The man’s a cretin! The copper, I mean, not Gerry.’

Immersed in her own thoughts, Tilly ignored this outburst. ‘He would never have left Francie, Sophie. He adored her, he gave his life to try and save her. Oh, I was angry with him, because he was supposed to watch her. He promised he would, but you know with kids you only have to look away for a second—’