There was a blue circular metal badge, about an inch across, with a cartoon-style picture of a white, round-edged boxy desktop computer, broken into two pieces, down the middle, with jagged black-outlined edges along the break. The badge looked old, but it was probably no older than the rest of the objects in the room. Maybe it had been publicity material for some nineties band that Deirdre had liked. But which one? And why keep the badge? What significance did it have for her?

The second object was a name tag, the temporary kind, with a safety pin on the back, given out at seminars. The name ‘Deirdre’ was handwritten in marker, with a smiley face over the ‘i’ instead of a dot. It should be easy enough to check if it was in Deirdre’s handwriting but, apart from the signature, the name tag was blank.

The final object was a drinks coaster with scalloped edges, bearing the name and logo for Muskerry Castle. Originally white, age had turned it yellow, and the absorbent top was coming away from the plastic underneath. There was a dark ring stain that looked like cola but could have been red wine. Muskerry Castle. My thoughts leapt to what Alice Chambers had said: that Jeremy Gill would be staying there during the festival. And that he’d been there before. Which might be a coincidence. I’d have to ask Deirdre’s parents if they had had any family visits to the hotel, and if there was a reason Deirdre might have kept the coaster, a special occasion of some kind.

I heard voices, and what sounded like the front door closing. I checked my watch. I had been in the room for almost an hour. I put each object into its own plastic bag, and the box into a fourth. Then I put all of the bags into one and put it, along with my phone, in my handbag and went downstairs.

The fire had been lit, and Ann Carney was sitting in the armchair to the left of the hearth. She was alone but, in the crook of her left arm, she cradled a framed photograph. There was a gap on the mantelpiece. She had taken the picture from there: the communion one. With her right hand, Ann gestured towards the other fireside chair. I sat and she began to talk.

‘I wanted to speak to you on my own. I wanted to know why you’re here.’

I shouldn’t have come.

‘Because you asked me,’ I said. ‘I mean, your husband did.’

But he hadn’t. Visiting the house had been my idea.