‘I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘It’s not bad news as such.’

Those words ‘as such’ came with so much portent.

‘I’ll come right to the point,’ she said, her voice low, almost a whisper. ‘The police are going to talk to two different men who had a connection to Clare. I think one was a work colleague and another the husband of one of Clare’s friends. They’re describing it as significant.’

‘And Laura? Is there a connection to Laura?’

‘Not that police are aware of at the moment. Between ourselves, my source seems to think that the husband of the friend might offer some clues to what happened.’

I wanted to know more. I wanted to know which friend. I wanted to know what had happened that had turned police attention towards these two men. I wanted to know why Laura had been brought into it all, but Ingrid didn’t have any more answers for me.

‘Elizabeth, I just wanted you to know that there are other angles being looked at. Important angles. I know it doesn’t answer any questions as to who was behind the flowers and the notes, but it’s something.’

I thanked her for telling me, hung up and sat down feeling a little easier, my heart lifting further at the sound of a car driving into the yard, followed by the excited shouting of Max and Ava. They ran in through the door I’d left open for them and directly at me, almost knocking me off my feet with the impact of their hugs, before they both got down on the floor to play with Izzy.

Watching my family, the smiles on their faces, the way the sun had kissed their skin over the last few weeks, bringing with it a new crop of freckles, I felt a sense of peace wash over me that I’d been struggling to find for a long time. Maybe it was selfish of me to hope that the moving of the investigation away from Laura was a good thing, but we’d all had our own suffering. More than enough of it.

Their father followed them in, looking tired.

‘Are you staying for tea?’ I asked. ‘I’ve more than enough prepared.’

He shook his head. ‘I thought I’d use the time to run to the supermarket. Run a few errands, if that’s okay?’

‘Of course it is,’ I said. ‘But at least get a cup of tea or a cold drink or something first. You look done in.’

‘I feel done in,’ he said, sitting down.

He looked to the children and then back to me. The strain of Laura’s death being brought up again had clearly been getting to him. A wave of guilt swept back in.

‘I know this week has been tough,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry for that.’