‘I might.’ She swallowed the steak and held the receiver away from her ear. Hugh listened to the pedantic voice at the other end.

‘Do make up your mind.’

‘I can stay somewhere else.’

‘You always stay here. I’d like to see you.’

‘That’s nice of you, John.’

‘Don’t tease. When are you coming?’

‘I’ll think. I’ll let you know. I have to arrange for the animals.’

‘I thought the dog and cat were dead.’

‘They are. Their names were Stub and Prissy, John. They had names.’

‘Well then? Come on, Matty, don’t dither.’

‘I’m not even going to try to call you Piers if you call me Matty.’

‘Sorry, Matilda.’

‘I’ll let you know. I’ll phone.’ She grinned. ‘You wouldn’t exactly call this an adult conversation, would you? Think what it’s costing you, Piers. Goodnight.’ She put down the receiver. ‘I can fetch your money if you like. How would that be?’ she asked Hugh.

‘Marvellous.’

‘Will you tell me where it is?’

‘Yes.’

‘My steak’s cold. Damn! I’ll give it to Fol-de-rol.’ She cut the meat into small pieces.

‘You were going to tell me about your murder.’

‘So I was. It will give you a hold over me perhaps. John “Piers” knows about it.’ She fed the bits of steak to Folly who took each piece delicately.

‘Did your husband know?’

‘No, come to think of it, he didn’t. It never arose. Only John knows.’

‘What happened?’

‘It was that terrible winter after the war. You’d be too young to remember.’

‘I don’t. My mother talked of it.’

‘I was nineteen, just married. First love. Marvellous. So great it hurt, every nerve raw with love. We had rushed into love, into marriage, headlong. It was gorgeous. I was pregnant with Louise. We were the only people in the world. Then I found he’d had this woman. She was older than him. She was all the things I wasn’t. Well dressed, well read, travelled, sophisticated, good looking, sexy, funny, educated. She never let go of anyone she had once had. Once hers he was hers for evermore. She tormented me, showed me up naïve, unsure, inexperienced, unsafe. Tom used to laugh, said she didn’t matter, never had, but I could see there was still a bit left over. If she jerked the lead he’d go back. I saw her do it to other men. Their girls could do nothing.’ Matilda made a cross with her knife on a smear of butter. She seemed far away.

‘What happened?’