‘Is there somewhere we can sit?’ Their faces are almost lost against the flowery wallpaper. They’re not smiling. She shows them into the living room and lowers herself into the armchair facing the French windows. Her heart is galloping. PC Dolan’s uniform creaks as he perches his substantial weight on the edge of the sofa, his legs astride to keep his balance. PC Wright sits next to him her hands clasped together.

‘I’m afraid I have some bad news.’ PC Dolan’s fingers form a cradle in front of him.

‘Let me fetch you a drink.’ Maddy springs up. Her throat pulses as if a hand is squeezing her neck.

‘This isn’t going to be easy for you.’ He pushes himself up, so they are facing each other. A missed cluster of spiky hair on his jaw moves when he speaks. She pushes away a nervous smile. He nods, touches her elbow and they sit down again in unison. ‘We believe your husband fell from a bridge over Yeading Brook, in Uxbridge, at around 1.55 a.m.’ He refers to a notebook from his breast pocket. ‘So far we’ve only recovered a rucksack.’

Maddy frowns, not sure she’s heard him correctly. Her fingers lock together into one large fist. She glances at the policewoman.

‘We’ve got underwater police teams and an RAF helicopter searching for him as we speak,’ says PC Wright.

Ice trickles through her veins despite her face burning up. Her vision is blotchy. She can’t seem to construct a decent question to ask.

‘Were you expecting him home last night?’

‘Not until Thursday.’ Her voice is barely audible. ‘A bridge you say, here in Uxbridge?’ She shakes her head. ‘That wouldn’t be him. He’s not worked here for a while.’ She’s been desperate to speak to him, try and get him to come home early so she can tell him what’s happened, but he’s not answered a single one of her calls or texts.

‘He was seen by witnesses, admittedly from some distance. They couldn’t say for certain if he fell by accident.’

‘Then you’re not sure it was him.’ Maddy sits up straight.

‘It’s his rucksack, Mrs Saunders, although nothing is conclusive at present.’

A stream of air escapes her lips. She shuts her eyes, deflates into the armchair and tries to breathe normally. Any minute now Max will breeze in, pat them on the shoulder and say it’s all been a terrible misunderstanding.

‘Mrs Saunders?’

Her eyes blink open. The room has darkened and closed in on her.

‘Can you tell me if there was anything bothering Max? Anything that might have given him thoughts of… harming himself?’

Maddy smooths out imaginary creases in her jeans. Tears roll down her cheeks. She digs in her pocket for a hanky.

‘Money problems perhaps?’