He had thought long and hard about it. Wondered whether he was being cowardly in not taking it to a higher authority immediately. But in the end decided on calmer tactics. The warning he had given was as far as he would go, for now. If he discovered the merest suggestion that Cummings was still on the make then he would have to go further, but hopefully he had made enough of a point with this shot across Cummings’ bows.

Ellie came down, bleary and tousled, at around half past ten. ‘Mm…hello,’ she murmured, opening the fridge and hauling out a pint of milk.

‘Hello you. Sleep well?’

‘Yup.’

‘How did I know that?’

Ellie smiled a beatific smile without opening her eyes. ‘Do I look relaxed then?’

Christopher grinned. ‘Just a little.’

Ellie squinted at him. ‘Oh. It’s more than you do,’ she said. ‘What’s happened?’

‘I just faced up to what we were talking about last night, that’s all.’

‘And did it work?’

‘We’ll have to wait and see, my love.’ He drained his mug. ‘So are you ready for your shopping trip?’

‘Do I look ready?’

‘Well, if you get your skates on I’ll drop you in town.’

Ellie snapped awake. ‘Give me twenty minutes and I’m yours.’

True to her word she appeared at the bottom of the stairs at the appointed time. ‘Anyway, Dad, what are you doing going into town on a Saturday? I thought you’d be happier in the garden.’

‘Er…I’m just dropping in on Maria.’

‘Maria? Oh, yes, your cleaning lady.’

‘I do wish you wouldn’t call her that.’

‘I didn’t mean to call her that. I’ll try it again.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Oh, Maria!’

‘Better.’

‘Why are you calling in on her, or is that too personal?’

‘Because she asked if I’d look at her roses. I think they might have a bit of canker.’

‘And you being a good doctor she thought you might be able to sort her out?’

‘No. Me being a good gardener she thought I might be able to sort them out.’

They walked together to the car, and Christopher said, ‘I don’t know why you’re grinning like that. There is absolutely nothing funny about canker on roses.’

He had expected a small garden with a few forlorn rose trees within it. What met his eye on that spring Saturday morning was an altogether different sight.

Maria’s house was a small Georgian terraced cottage a few streets away from the cathedral close. It would once have been a busy street, but Winchester’s one-way system meant that it was now a cul-de-sac. What was formerly a down-at-heel cottage had now, thanks to the freedom from traffic and the associated dust and grime, gone up in the world.