‘It’s the start of the holidays,’ Kate had said, trying to keep her voice light. Stuart never said anything, but she could tell that he thought she nagged the kids too much: Chloe for working too hard and Ryan for not doing enough. ‘Give yourself a break!’

But there was some competition apparently, run by a national science magazine, and Chloe thought it would look good on her CV if she won. So that was her project for the holiday. When she had a project she thought of nothing else. Except, apparently, the call she was waiting for, as her eyes moved again to her phone. They looked dark and bruised and Kate thought she’d been up all night brooding. About the project or about some lad? Kate wasn’t sure which would worry her most.

The doorbell rang and George Enderby was standing there with his wheelie suitcase full of books.

‘Me again. The proverbial bad penny.’ He gave her a hug and kissed both cheeks as he always did. Then he stood back to look at her. ‘You’re looking very smart. Going anywhere nice?’ She blushed and, though there was no hint of reproof in his words, she felt guilty. Should she be going out enjoying herself when Margaret was so recently dead?

‘Just into Newcastle with Stuart.’

‘Well, good for you! Don’t worry. I can see myself up to my room.’ He seemed tired too. His overcoat was crumpled and the jollity in his voice was rather forced. She supposed that perhaps he hadn’t received many orders for the novels he loved.

‘I’ll put some tea in the lounge,’ she said. ‘Though the biscuits aren’t up to Margaret’s standard, I’m afraid.’

They smiled sadly at each other. ‘I’m sure they’ll be delicious,’ George said. He began to take off his gloves and added, as if it were an afterthought: ‘Any news about that? Have they caught the killer?’

She was already on her way to the kitchen and turned back to answer. ‘I haven’t heard anything. There seem to be police in the town whenever I go out. They’re knocking on all the doors and asking questions.’

And as if in response to his query there was the noise of sirens in the street and they looked at each other, sharing a frisson of anxiety.