Chloe was on the sofa in the living room and there was a book face-down beside her. She’d changed into different clothes, though, a pretty top that she usually only wore for going out, and she’d put on eye-liner and mascara. Kate wondered if one of her friends had been round. Chloe called through to her mother, ‘Oh, Stuart phoned.’ Implying that any call for her mother could have no importance and that she’d only just remembered. ‘He said that you weren’t answering your mobile.’

Kate stood in the doorway between the two rooms. She was clasping a huge bag of washing powder to her stomach as if it were a baby. ‘What did he want?’

‘Nothing.’ That breezy voice. ‘He just said to tell you that he’d called.’

Kate phoned Stuart, but there was no response. She left him a message, saying that she was in. ‘Come round, if you’re not busy. It’d be lovely to see you.’ She thought that the balance of power had shifted between them. In the beginning Stuart had been the eager one, turning up on her doorstep, excited. Now she felt more needy, less certain of his affection.

She couldn’t settle and climbed the stairs to the landing close to Margaret’s room. From the round window there was a view over Malcolm’s yard. It seemed to her that the police officers were searching for something specific. They had their own method, she could tell: meticulous, shifting all Malcolm’s gear to one end of the yard. It was almost dark and suddenly the street lights came on and quite clearly she saw Ryan, peering through the railings, trying to see past the screens, along with other rubber-neckers. No doubt there’d already be a photo on his smartphone and he’d have sent it to all his friends. Then he’d move on, pacing the pavement, restless as ever.

Back in the kitchen she tried to phone Stuart again, but still he didn’t answer.

Chapter Thirty-Five