‘Are the police getting anywhere with their investigation?’ she asked tenderly.

Gerald stiffened. ‘They thought I might be responsible.’ He shook his head with disgust. ‘I could never …’ his words trailed off.

‘I’m sure they were just covering every possibility.’ Janet blushed and looked at the ground. She was wearing her tatty old Birkenstock style sandals and her toenails were long and grubby looking. She made a mental note to trim them when she got home.

‘How long had you known my wife?’

‘We weren’t close. More like acquaintances.’ Janet didn’t see the point in lying to the man.

‘How did she seem at the book club that day?’ The poor man wanted answers so badly, it showed all over his face, but Janet wasn’t in a position to help.

‘Her normal self.’ She shrugged, not wanting to mention the sniping that had taken place at the meeting. Feeling like the conversation was going somewhere she’d rather it didn’t, Janet looked down at her old Casio wristwatch. ‘I’d better be going.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Gerald was on his haunches, cupping the gnome in his hands as if it were a baby.

‘It was nice to meet you.’ She turned and hurried away, feeling like she couldn’t breathe.

The steak sizzled in the pan, filling the room with a meaty smoke, as Amy stood over the hob, basting the sirloins with copious amounts of butter. Since she’d fallen pregnant she’d had a craving for red meat. Luckily, her husband, Johnny, shared her passion and was only too happy to let her cook what she pleased.

He was exhausted, but pleased to be home. Since he’d learnt about the murder, he’d wanted to come back to his wife. He didn’t like the idea of her being alone in the house, especially since the victim was one of her friends.

He removed the cork from a bottle of Rioja as he hummed along to the rock song that was playing on the radio. Johnny was not Cambridge born and bred, but when his wife had proposed that they should leave London, he was happy enough to go along with it. He didn’t have the sort of job that required him to be in an office from 9am until 5pm, and the commute to London was easy – on the occasions he was needed there.

‘It’s hard to believe someone we know has been murdered. Makes you thankful for every moment you have.’ Amy stood, turning the asparagus over in the griddle pan while the steaks rested. Johnny poured himself a glass of wine and went over to his wife, wrapping his arms around her bump and holding their child in his hands.

‘We are so lucky.’ He kissed her neck. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’