“Hi,” I say, nodding at him. He points at his chest.

“Tim,” he says. More grinning. “You heading to the game, mate?”

“Actually, I’m just going back to the car.”

“Uh-oh, St. Bethell’s losing again, are they?”

I wonder if he gets cold teeth from all that smiling.

“No, it’s just, it’s a bit muddy, with the chair, getting over there was a bit much, so I’m going to just wait in the car,” I say clumsily.

Tim looks down at me and towards the pitch and then back again to me. His smile falls for just a moment before he says, “The hell you are, mate. I’ll get you over there.”

“No, no, really, I don’t think . . .” but Tim has already disappeared behind me, grabbed the handles. He slips a bit at first, but I can feel his strength through my chair.

“We’ll be there in no time,” he says. Even though I can’t see him, I’m sure he’s grinning again. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, perhaps building up courage before he says what I knew was coming.

“I hope you don’t mind my asking, mate, but I’m curious. You were involved in the Nichols mess over the summer, weren’t you? That Grace girl, or whoever she was?” He was more eager than I thought. The wheelchair jerks through the mud, my head bouncing, jolting me in my seat. I could tell him he’s got the wrong bloke, but he knows my name, knows Jakey, he’ll know I’m lying. So I decide to say nothing. He doesn’t seem to notice or mind that I’m not keen to talk.

“What’s your theory, then, on what happened to her after she got away?”

I clench my jaw but remind myself what Alex says about being mindful about where I hold tension. With effort, I relax it. Tim leans over the back of the wheelchair so he can catch my answers.

“There is no theory, there’s only what happened. She’d been studying people driving for years. She took the Craig twins’ car, managed to drive herself to the haulage depot, and hid in the empty cab of one of the trucks, the first batch that left at midnight that night. No one knows where she ended up because those trucks went from Oslo to Sorrento. The twins were picked up the morning after, trying to board a boat from Plymouth. Traces of Megan’s blood were found on Tony’s coat and her DNA was in the caravan. They’re in prison now. That’s all there is to know.”

Tim has been leaning forward too much. He’s got my wheels stuck in a particularly sticky patch of mud. He pulls me back a few paces for a run-up.

“And what about the girl, the neighbor who let her get away?”

My jaw clenches again and this time I know, no matter how hard I try, I won’t be able to release it. Ruth told me Cara came to the hospital twice while I was unconscious. She left flowers. She kept calling until Ruth persuaded me to let her visit at the end of September. Both my arms were in plaster and my leg was still a formless red sausage with pins sticking out like someone had been practicing voodoo. Cara stood awkwardly by my bed in the spare room at New Barn Cottage, her eyes skittish, unable to find where to rest. She looked younger than ever, just a kid. What had I been thinking, getting her caught up in the whole business?