Then there was Sean Francis. We went to see him that evening in Judy’s company. Sounding him out carefully, calculating the kind of man he was, she had decided that taking the risk of telling him was a very small risk. He had reacted to the news with surprise but not enormous astonishment, having believed for a long time that something fishy was going on up there. But he was unable to give Judy the unqualified approval of our support for Andrew and Alison and our activities on their behalf she had hoped for. He was older than we were and perhaps the seven or eight years between us made him less impulsive, less passionate for a cause and more inclined to see the law as good.

“I’m only saying you don’t know all the facts. You only know what they say and what the media say. They may not be the ideal parents they think they are. From what Judy says he’s a selfish bastard and she’s a nervous wreck.”

“But you wouldn’t do anything to get in the way, would you, Sean?” Judy was sitting next to him and he had his arm around her. “You wouldn’t sort of tell anyone? I mean, the law, the police?”

“I’ve already told you that as far as anyone who inquires is concerned, I don’t know anything about it. If they come downstairs or I hear them leave, I’ll stay inside here.”

“But you won’t lie for us?” said Silver. “You won’t help if we need you?”

“That’s right. I’ll be shooting my new series the week before and from the twentieth to the twenty-fourth anyway. And by the twenty-second I’ll be too knackered to notice what’s going on.” Sean smiled. To show something or other, I suppose. That he enjoyed his uninvolved status, maybe, or that he was lazy. Judy smiled too and I could see that he already meant much more to her than the fate of the people in 4E.