And another thought, which made my anger flare: Did he take his anger out on Mel too, when they met on Thursday evening?

Her voice quiet, Mel said: ‘What happened after he came back, Bee?’

‘I heard him moving around, slamming doors, breaking things. I thought he’d come up, but he didn’t. So I just lay there waiting, waiting. I couldn’t move.’

Mel got up and sat next to Beth on the couch, put an arm around her shoulders.

‘Try not to worry. You and Alice are both OK, that’s the main thing.’

‘What a mess, Mel. Oh God, what a mess.’

I tried to catch Mel’s eye, but she wouldn’t look at me.

Beth dabbed at her cheeks with another tissue.

‘Next morning his Aston Martin was gone. And some of his clothes, an overnight bag and a laptop.’

‘Oh Bee, you poor thing, I can’t imagine what it’s been like. Have you tried calling him?’

Beth nodded.

‘Twenty times at least. He’s not been answering his mobile. I waited for him to come home all yesterday, worried sick. I checked work, he wasn’t there and had missed various meetings. Called his mum, she hadn’t heard from him. I waited up half the night for him last night, but no sign of him. And then today I suddenly thought, I wasn’t sure I want to be there when he finally gets home. So I called you.’

Mel said: ‘What time did Ben get home on Thursday night?’

‘About a quarter to midnight.’

‘I don’t understand this.’

‘Neither do I. When he’s done this before it’s been triggered by work problems. But he seemed quite happy about the way things were going with the company.’

‘No, I don’t understand how he can go from being fine and talking business, to getting drunk and storming out of his house a few hours later.’

Beth frowned.

‘How do you mean, talking business?’

‘His company.’

‘When were you talking to him about his company?’

‘Thursday night, after work.’

‘You saw him?’ Beth said, her voice rising slightly.

‘Yes,’ Mel said. ‘Before I went to tennis. He seemed OK then.’

Not entirely true, I thought.

‘I saw him too,’ I added. ‘We both did.’

Beth sat up straighter, frowning first at me and then at Mel.

‘Why?’

Mel gave her friend a summary of what she’d told me last night, leaving out the details of my encounter with Ben.

‘But if you left him just after 5 p.m.,’ Beth said, ‘that still leaves seven-plus missing hours. Where was he? Where did he go?’

‘What did Ben actually say that night, when he came home?’ I asked, slowly. ‘It might help us find him, help him, if we know what was bothering him.’

Beth blew her nose delicately and dabbed at her reddened eyes with a tissue.

‘He didn’t say much. Just came in, got his stuff and left. The only thing I heard was actually about you.’

‘Me?’ Mel and I said in unison.