7.30 p.m. and it felt as hot as mid-afternoon in the still air. Dozens of people were on the beach, soaking up the last of the day’s rays, and the tide was far out, exposing a vast area of mud. Closer in, just beyond the pebbles, two toddlers in sun hats, under the scrutiny of their parents, were busy digging with their plastic spades, creating a lopsided castle. A detectorist in a combat jacket and safari hat worked his way across the expanse, sweeping his scanner in arcs, occasionally stopping and digging with his trowel, and a short distance beyond the lazy surf, a paddleboarder moved serenely along. There was a tempting smell of barbecuing wafting in the air.

Alison and Meg found a quiet spot by a breakwater and settled down. Alison was someone who always seemed to Meg to be happy in her skin. She had a good marriage with Archie, a gentle giant of a man, a former bodybuilder who owned a couple of small health clubs in the city, and whom Meg liked a lot. Alison was a partner in a local advertising agency, a job she enjoyed, and she had the knack of always dressing appropriately for any occasion. This evening she wore a baseball cap over her long brown hair, fashionably large Dior sunnies, a short, floral smock and diamanté-studded sandals. She dug into her beach bag, produced a bottle of wine in a cool bag, a corkscrew and two large glasses.

‘I’ve got a spare in here, in case,’ she said, tapping the bag with a smile. She worked the cork out, then filled both glasses halfway and handed Meg one. ‘Cheers!’

‘Cheers.’ Meg was wearing a large straw hat and one of Nick’s shirts over a bikini, in case for some mad reason they went in for a swim, and flip-flops.

They clinked glasses and each sipped a little.

‘Right,’ Alison said. ‘So, talk to me.’

Further out to sea a jet-ski rasped along, trailed by a plume of spray. Meg sat in silence, staring at her glass, turning it round in her hands. She’d left the phone behind, deliberately, despite what they had told her, in case there was a listening device of some kind implanted in it by the bastards. She looked around, warily. Had anyone followed her here? Was anyone in earshot? The nearest people were two young canoodling lovers, a good fifty yards away. She took another sip; it tasted good, cold and crisp. Then another for courage.