‘I threatened to call the police and managed to persuade him to leave. Rang Patrick and told him what had happened. He came racing home about twenty minutes later and went straight out, presumably to find the guy. I asked him what the man wanted, and he refused to talk about it. Just said he wouldn’t bother us again.’ Nicola shrugged. ‘After that, I learnt not to ask any questions. Our relationship wasn’t sustainable, of course. Quite apart from how drugs affect a person’s moods, living with someone who has a secret life means that you continually feel anxious.’ Her elegant features looked haunted by memories. ‘You are always waiting for that phone call, that knock on the door.’ She paused, a tin of baked beans in her hand. ‘We split up soon after that. I couldn’t take it.’ She shoved the tin in the cupboard and covered her face with splayed fingers.

It must’ve been awful for Nicola. Aroona would’ve gone apeshit if that had been him. ‘And who was the other guy you encountered when you were out?’

‘This was quite soon after we got together and before I learnt that Patrick had started taking coke. We were in a pub, having a meal one Saturday evening. We were eating, and this young chap sidled up to our table, asked Patrick if he had everything he needed for the weekend.’

‘Asking if Patrick was looking to score, you mean?’

‘Yeah. Or letting him know that he knew where to find us. And me.’ Her eyes were wide with fear and it was obvious that the memory hadn’t left her.

‘That must’ve been scary.’ Dan felt for Nicola, living under that sort of tension. Perhaps one of Patrick’s old drug associates had killed him? ‘Can you describe this fella?’

‘He sounded pretty posh. Floppy hair on top, short at the sides. Public school accent. Not your average junkie.’

‘What happened?’

‘Patrick leaped up and steered the bloke away from our table and when he came back, he waffled on about him being some ‘random’ and not to worry about it. It wasn’t until a few months later that I made the connection with drugs.’ She switched the kettle on to boil again, having got distracted. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

‘Please.’ Dan waited a moment. ‘Can you think who might want to hurt Patrick?’

She was silent while she poured milk into the mugs and thought about the question. ‘No. Sorry. I’m beginning to wonder if I knew much about his life recently. He was aware he’d hurt me, and he kept a lot of secrets. When he was on the streets, he must’ve come into contact with hundreds of people. Everyone’s fighting to stay alive. Who knows who might have taken against him?’