‘Apple cider vinegar’s very good for you,’ says Jack. ‘And very good for livestock too, as I’ve shown you.’

‘Is Sarson’s made from apples, then?’ asks Claire. ‘I didn’t know that.’

‘Not Sarson’s, no,’ Jack admits. ‘Sarson’s is made of stronger stuff, to put hairs on your chest.’

‘I don’t think Mum wants hairs on her chest,’ says Evan.

‘I really don’t,’ Claire agrees.

Jack winks at Evan, and adds a dash more vinegar to his plate.

‘I went shopping this afternoon,’ he says. ‘I bought you a present.’

Evan’s eyes light up.

‘What is it?’

‘When you’ve finished your tea, you can go in the parlour and have a look.’

But Evan won’t wait; he jumps down from the table and runs to the lounge.

In front of the window there’s a Christmas tree, of modest size, but scenting the room with pine, and on the floor in front of it, a box of decorations, another of lights.

Jack and Claire hear him yelp his delight.

‘It’s just a few baubles,’ says Jack. ‘I didn’t feel inclined to be blundering about in the loft. Dora’s got quite a collection up there, as you know, but I thought we’d leave those till next year.’ Claire feels for him, respecting the rawness of his grief, the difficulties of the approaching season, and she’s relieved he hasn’t taken himself up into the attic with no one to help. ‘I’m afraid we’ll be busy this evening. I’m sorry, Claire. You must be tired.’

‘I really don’t mind,’ she says. ‘A little weariness I can cope with. But you look tired yourself. Are you all right?’

‘Oh, yes, don’t worry about me,’ Jack says. ‘I haven’t been sleeping so well, these last few nights. But now this business is behind us for today, maybe we can relax. Evan! Come back in here and finish your tea!’

As they’re walking into the incident room, Hagen’s rallying the troops.

‘Gather round, people! We need to come up with an action plan fast!’

The team don’t need asking twice. They’re keen to hear the news from Harrogate, whether there’s been any breakthrough after Evan’s interview.

‘Someone ring upstairs and tell Mr Campbell’s PA he might want to join us,’ says Hagen.

As Dallabrida makes the call, Naylor dumps her handbag and phone on her desk, and finds pens for writing on the whiteboard.

The team’s pulling up chairs, making seats out of desktops. In a couple of minutes Campbell comes hurrying in, and the loud chatter in the room becomes more stilted. Campbell perches on the corner of a table and folds his arms, trying to look relaxed. Dallabrida finds himself a seat near the front, and gives Naylor a wink as he sits down.