Saskia smiles at the handsome Brazilian barista and nods. ‘Thanks, Paulo. But can I get this one in a takeaway cup? I only came out for croissants.’ He laughs and his eyes scrunch up in a cute way, and Saskia vaguely wonders what he might look like topless, and then two minutes later he presents her with an espresso coffee in a paper cup. She pushes off the wooden chair and lowers her sunglasses to avoid the vicious glare as she steps outside.

She takes it slowly up the hill on her route back home. With her eyes protected, she lifts her face to the sky and enjoys the half-hearted attempt at warmth filtering out of the sky. She knows from experience that her hangover will disappear by mid-afternoon, just in time for her to think a glass of something around 6 p.m. is a good idea. Unfortunately it’s only mid-morning, so she’s got a few more hours of suffering to contend with. As the hill gets steeper, she pauses to take a much-needed breath, then lifts her glasses and narrows her eyes.

The men stood outside Beth’s house look like police officers. Are they expecting to interview Ava about yesterday’s incident? She’s only 5 for goodness’ sake. Or has something else happened? An unwelcome wave of guilt washes over her; damn, why didn’t she stick around and make sure Mark was arrested yesterday? When did she become such a wimp?

Saskia watches the two men knock at Beth’s door and then start peering through her living room window when it goes unanswered. Are the Packards ignoring the detectives? Or are they genuinely not at home? Saskia pulls her phone out of her pocket and opens Google Maps again. She clicks into location sharing, and a quick tap on Beth’s pink dot shows that she’s at Painshill Park in Surrey. As Saskia looks back at the sky, the memory of a weeks-old conversation starts filtering through. A trip to Santa’s grotto. Something nauseatingly lovely for the whole family. Beth’s absolutely fine, she realises, then she sighs, and continues up the hill.

‘They’re not in,’ she calls out helpfully to the two identikit detectives still languishing outside Beth’s house.

‘Thanks,’ the slightly better-looking one answers. ‘Any idea when they’ll be back?’

Now that he’s initiated conversation, Saskia feels qualified to cross the road and lean on Beth’s gate. ‘Not sure; they’ve taken the kids to see Santa in Surrey. Who are you anyway?’

‘Sorry,’ the man says. He’s wearing a navy bomber jacket over a grey hoodie. ‘I’m DC Worthing. And this is my colleague, DC Stone.’

‘I recognise you,’ Saskia says, squinting behind her glasses. Now that she’s closer, she realises that it’s the same detective she spotted leaving Beth’s house on Tuesday morning. ‘Are you here about Beth’s stalker?’