Don Samson’s massage had been at four, I’d seen on the calendar. And I felt sure Anna would not have given a massage while Sam was in the house. He was too young to be left by himself for an hour, so he must really have been with Alex at that point. So, what – Alex had actually picked Sam up from school as he said, but then for some reason gone to Anna’s farmhouse instead? He’d changed his mind about having Sam that night? That would explain the raised voices Don had heard, Anna’s air of irritation when she came back in, why she cancelled on Ciaran. It would also mean Alex was lying to me for some reason. That he really had seen his ex-wife that night.

‘You didn’t talk to her that night at all?’

I didn’t want to come out and say I knew he’d been at the house. What if Don was mistaken? He’d seemed sharp, but he was getting on a bit, and you couldn’t always hear clearly when flat on your front.

‘I messaged her to say I had him, that’s all.’ He shrugged. ‘We’d split up, Rachel. I wasn’t in the habit of calling her to chat.’

‘Did she have plans that night?’

‘How would I know?’

This wasn’t going well. I thought sadly of our previous conversations, spiralling and affectionate, where I felt like a plant gradually unfurling after years in cold storage.

‘I was just wondering if she was seeing someone else, if someone was at the house that night . . . you know.’

He let out a frustrated sigh. ‘You think she would have told me?’

‘No. Of course not.’

Despite this, his attitude to me seemed to have softened with what I’d said. He stepped forward, took my hand. Even with everything that was going on, I felt myself respond to his touch. The rough skin on his hands, their strength and size. I found myself thinking of Stacey Donner.

Gently, he said, ‘I’m sorry. This is very hard, and I can’t – well, people will talk if I’m seen with you. And the police – they must be watching you, right? I just need to get through this. Make sure Sam is all right.’

‘But you don’t think I killed Anna?’ I heard myself pleading.

He pushed a lock of hair back from my face. ‘Of course not. We just have to wait for this to blow over. Once they catch the guy.’

‘You think it was a guy?’

‘I mean, probably. It usually is, isn’t it?’ He looked at his watch. ‘I’m sorry, but I have to put Sam to bed. He’s down with Colette.’