But the question remained unspoken because Gwen James was back in the room, standing at the bar, ordering more drinks although their glasses were still full. Sandy knew he’d never have had the courage to ask it anyway. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t sit and watch while two educated English people made fools of themselves and each other. Gwen would thank Berglund for looking after her daughter and supervising the project and Berglund would say what a bright student Hattie was, what a future she’d had ahead of her. How much everyone had liked her. Sandy thought listening to that would make him want to vomit.

Perez had told him to stay in the Pier House with Berglund and Gwen James until they went to bed. ‘I don’t want them wandering around on the island tonight. You can understand that.’ And when Sandy had started to object: ‘This is important, Sandy. You know Mrs James and she trusts you. There’s no one else I can ask.’

But now Sandy had to get away. He had something closer to home to sort out and then he wanted to be in on the action. Besides, if he sat here any longer he’d have more to drink because he couldn’t face Berglund sober. Then he’d end up hitting Berglund or saying something rude to him. These people wouldn’t go out again. Not on a night like this. They wouldn’t find their way to the road. He made his excuses and left. On his way out he bumped into Fran Hunter. Jimmy must have booked a room for her. She gave him a little wave and made her way upstairs.

He found his mother alone in the Utra kitchen. She’d changed out of her smart clothes and was wearing the tatty dressing gown she’d had for as long as he could remember. She was drinking a mug of warm milk. She looked up at him and smiled.

‘Where’s my father?’ he asked.

‘I’ve sent him to bed. He’s not been sleeping well.’

‘I’ve been worried about him.’

‘You shouldn’t be,’ she said. ‘Not any more. We’ve been through a lot in the last few weeks. We ’ll survive this too.’

‘How did it start?’ She didn’t answer immediately. ‘The stealing, Mother. That’s what I’m talking about.’ For the first time in his life Sandy felt he was talking to her as one adult to another.

‘Stealing?’ She seemed shocked. ‘I never saw it as that.’

‘It’s how my boss sees it,’ he said simply. ‘It’s how the courts would see it.’

‘Oh, Sandy,’ she said, and he could tell she was glad of the chance to talk about it at last. ‘It was all too easy.’