‘Well, I had to do a bit of detective work,’ he admitted. ‘As luck would have it, I called into the local shop for a packet of fags and I recognised the guy behind the counter, with the turban – he was at the funeral. I thanked him for coming. We got chatting and I asked about you. He showed me your business card, the one you have displayed in his window. It’s got your phone number on it and I looked up your address in the phone book. I wanted a chance to apologise for what happened this afternoon, for the way you were treated.’

‘You’ve nothing to apologise for,’ I told him. He was the only one who’d been nice to me.

‘You’ll have to forgive Helena. She’s not usually so emotional.’

That I can believe.

‘No excuses for Harry,’ he went on cheerfully. ‘He’s always like that, grasping bastard.’

‘I’m sorry I caused the upset.’ I couldn’t think what else to say.

‘Anyway, I wanted to apologise for their behaviour,’ he went on, ‘and I wondered if you’d let me take you out to dinner this evening.’

I hadn’t seen that coming.

‘It seems the least I can do,’ he added.

I really wanted to tell him he could stuff his dinner, but felt I couldn’t because, after all, he’d been the one who’d defended me against his horrible sister and her even more horrible husband. But there was something about him I couldn’t quite take to. Possibly it was the fact that his jaunty, devil-may-care attitude seemed more studied than natural. I was casting around in my mind for an excuse when I stopped. I looked at him, standing there on the steps, all smiley and twinkly-eyed, and I heard the words ‘Yes, that would be lovely, thank you’ come out of my mouth.

‘Great!’ he said. ‘I’ve booked a table at Gidleigh Park. Be a pity to waste it. I’ll pick you up at seven.’

He whistled as he jogged off down the steps. I would have been indignant at his supreme self-confidence if my mind had not been fully occupied with the reason I’d agreed to go out with him: it had suddenly occurred to me, as he’d been standing there on the doorstep, where and when I had seen him before.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Ricky’s phone call forced me out of the bath. He and Morris were agog to know about the reading of the will, and I’d promised I would phone them as soon as I got back. My mind taken up with other matters, I’d forgotten them. They put me on speakerphone so they could both listen. I didn’t feel like addressing a conference.

I gave them as brief a summary of events as I felt I could get away with.