The house felt stiflingly hot. He led them into the small room at the front. It was originally a study, though since Thomas had retired, it had become a storage room for paperwork and books, and a place where the children could complete homework in peace if they wanted to use the Mac. He fixed his eyes on the desk and saw Ella sitting there booking a holiday, just weeks ago. He spun around and saw that the two uniformed officers had followed him in.

‘Goodness me, can you put me out of my misery now? I don’t think you chaps would send the cavalry for a lost phone?’ It was a rhetorical question but one that he secretly hoped would be answered with: don’t worry, everything is fine. Ella’s most hated word: fine. He swallowed hard.

‘Sir, can you confirm that you are Thomas Watson, husband of Ella Watson?’

Thomas nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said quickly.

‘We have some extremely bad news.’ They were warning him, to take away the shock. He groped behind him for a chair to steady himself. His knees were weak and his bladder felt loose. Why did he need to pee?

‘We believe that your wife was a victim of crime this afternoon and we need to inform you that she has died from her wounds, sir.’

Thomas’s knees gave way and he slumped onto the chair behind him. He couldn’t breathe properly. The officer went to him and knelt down. He’d already removed his hat outside, and Thomas noticed that he was young.

‘Sir, do you understand what we’ve told you?’

Inside, he wanted to scream, but he simply nodded. ‘Wait, no, how do you know? You said you believe, not that you know. Could there have been a mistake?’

‘We checked with the DVLA and the Passport Office, sir. We’re sure. This is Ella?’

Thomas was shown his wife’s driving licence, which was registered to her Range Rover.

‘The vehicle is parked at Potton Park in Penrith, sir, close to where the crime took place.’

Thomas looked up at the officer and felt his breathing slow and a loud humming enter his head. He was aware of nodding. The officer continued to talk, but it sounded like dull thuds in his head. He stared at him but couldn’t work out what he was saying. One of the plain-clothes officers came into the room and introduced himself. He was tall and broad and accompanied by a tiny female, who also looked terribly young. The police force was staffed by babies now, Thomas thought.

‘I’m Detective Constable Rob Shawcross and this is Detective Constable Emma Hide. You’ve had a huge shock, Mr Watson, and it doesn’t seem fair at the moment, but we’d like to ask you some questions.’

Reality flooded Thomas’s skull and he began to understand what was happening once more.