‘My source in the police seems to think there may be some link between Laura’s death and Clare Taylor’s murder,’ Ingrid said.

‘That’s ridiculous,’ I replied. I could feel my anxiety growing. My sense of claustrophobia at where this conversation was going. I don’t think I’d ever heard anything quite so absurd in my life before. ‘Laura died two years ago. She wasn’t murdered. She took her own life, you know that, Ingrid. What link could there be?’

‘That was the part of the puzzle I was hoping you could help me fill in on,’ Ingrid said. ‘You didn’t recognise Clare as she lay on the roadside? She didn’t say anything that might give us a clue?’

‘I doubt her own mother would have recognised her how she lay on the roadside!’ I snapped. ‘The poor creature barely looked human, all bloodied and covered in mud. Those horrific wounds …’

I trailed off, aware of the flashing light on Ingrid’s phone, which indicated she was recording every word I’d said. Aware that those words, words that could break whatever was left of Clare Taylor’s mother, could appear in print. While she tried to keep her expression neutral, I could see the glint in Ingrid’s eyes. I was no journalist, but I’d spent enough time in their company to know what made for story gold.

I took a breath and started again. ‘No. I didn’t recognise her. I’m not sure I ever met Clare when she was at school with Laura. I may perhaps have seen her at a school event, a Mass or something, but it was a long time ago. She wasn’t one of my Laura’s friends. Nor were those other girls, Rachel and whatever you said the other girl was called.’

‘Julie. Julie Diver. She’s married now, of course. As is Rachel. Both mothers now, too.’

‘My Laura was a mother,’ I said sadly just as Clare’s last words chimed again in my head.

Was it Rachel and Julie she wanted to warn? Given the flowers, it was possible. I could feel a headache nip at my temples.

Ingrid just looked at me, waited for me to talk. I had to give her her dues, she was good at her job. She knew how to tease a story out of someone. She’d given me information the police hadn’t. She’d told me more than that kindly-faced DI Bradley with his ‘operational reasons’ for keeping me in the dark had done.

‘She told me to “warn them”,’ I muttered.

‘Sorry?’

Ingrid looked at me. I noticed her eyes widen just that little bit.

‘That’s what she said. Before she died. Those two words: “Warn them”. That was all. She was barely alive when I got to her. It was just too late. Her injuries …’