Edna frowns at her. “You seem to have seen a lot of people in the village this afternoon.”

“She’s fine,” says Oscar.

Lily takes a sip of tea. She places the cup back on the tray and, as if the move is a signal, Oscar gets up.

“I should be getting off.”

“But you haven’t touched your cake.”

“You can stay over if you want,” Edna offers, and Lily pushes down a little monster inside her; she should have offered first.

“Thanks,” says Oscar, “but I should get back to town.”

“I could wrap it for you?”

Edna struggles to stand, and Oscar leaps forward to help. Again the nasty little creature lurches inside Lily.

“Try not to worry,” Edna tells him. “It’ll all be fine, you’ll see.”

“Thanks, Auntie Edie.” He hugs her and Lily is a stranger in her own home, and then it’s her turn and as he draws her into him everything is warmer and sharper and more alive.

Together they see him to the gate, Edna more agile than she’s been for months. They watch him as he heads down the path. But for a little height, and the missing satchel on his shoulder, they might be seeing him off to school. Before he disappears round the bend he waves to them one last time, and they both wave back.

They stand together at the gate looking down the path.

“They’ve found him,” says Edna.

“Oh,” says Lily, clutching at the flaking ironwork. She wants to say, Found who? But she doesn’t. She’s fairly certain she probably ought to know.

Edna makes a sucking noise between her false teeth. “Did you get those chops?”

—

The sun is setting through the branches of the trees, casting jagged black lines across the front of the house. It looks like the house is burning all over again. Tyler kicks around in the rubble left by the builders until he finds what he needs, a broken half brick. The door to the incident room swings open and Rabbani steps out, squinting into the sun.

“The fiancée?” he asks.

“Tomorrow lunchtime at the university.” She hovers, not quite meeting his eye, plainly uncomfortable about something.

“Fine,” he says. “I’ll pick you up.”

She hesitates, then nods. He tucks the brick under his arm and jots down the address she gives him on his mobile.

“Anything else?”

Again she hesitates, then, “I can’t find a death certificate for Lily Bainbridge, but I’ll keep looking into it. And I spoke to Cynthia Cartwright’s doctor. He won’t release her records without a court order but, off the record, he pretty much confirmed what Burnside said about her being depressed.” She stops, waiting for him to say something.

“Good job,” he tells her, returning the mobile to his pocket and extracting the brick again. “Where’s Daley?

She looks down at the brick in his hand and her brow creases. “I’m not sure,” she says.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to clock him with it.”