“That’s great. I’m really looking forward to seeing you both again. Half past seven suit you? I’ll expect you then. 21 Halbeath Drive. First floor, right hand flat. The name on the bell is Hartley. Got that?”

“Yes, I think so,” Ruth stammered, repeating the address.

“See you then,” Lindsay said cheerfully. “Bye.” She put the phone down with a grin. It had been a pushover. Ruth was far too polite and diffident to ask her what the hell she was playing at. They were hardly friends, after all. If it hadn’t been for Alison, they’d have been little more than nodding acquaintances.

The adrenaline surge that had carried her through the phone call to Ruth soon abated, however, leaving her feeling worn out and confused. What exactly had Cordelia been playing at? Had it been because of genuine feelings for Lindsay? Or was it about protecting Claire, either by distracting Lindsay or by making sure that she was privy to Lindsay’s every move? Whatever her motives, Cordelia had defeated herself by her appalling sense of timing. She knew only too well that the way to Lindsay’s heart was via her body, and she’d gone straight for her weak point. She’d have stood a good chance of success if she’d made her move anywhere other than her lover’s flat.

Lindsay shrugged and looked at her watch. Half past four. The next burning item on her agenda was to confront Barry Ostler. But she felt too drained even to plan their encounter, let alone carry it out. It would have to wait till morning. That left her with a couple of hours to kill before she could reasonably expect Sophie, so Lindsay decided to cook something for dinner. She was halfway through an inventory of the store cupboard when the phone rang.

“Hello?” she said wearily as she picked it up.

“Well, love certainly knocked the ginger out of you,” Sophie’s familiar voice teased her. “You sound like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“Sorry. It’s nothing to do with you, I promise. I’ve just had a particularly difficult afternoon.”

“Will it keep, or do you want to tell me all about it now?” Sophie asked kindly.

“It’ll keep. What can I do for you? I mean, I take it you didn’t just ring up to whisper sweet nothings down the phone?”

Sophie laughed. “I think we’re both a bit too long in the tooth for that. Though I must admit it’s been kind of difficult to concentrate today. However, that isn’t why I rang. As you correctly deduced, I do actually have something to say.”

“McIntosh?” Lindsay asked eagerly.

“I looked up the records. He did a routine D&C on Alison just over a year ago, in December 1988. She had a follow-up appointment three months later, at the beginning of March 1989, then nothing.”