‘I left it on the doorstep about a week ago,’ he said.

Audrey sprang back up. ‘You see, that’s why we have rules,’ she said, pointing at the sign on the wall. ‘Had you brought the box to us in working hours, we would have checked the contents with you and this would never have happened.’

She gave a triumphant little smile, and the man sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘But I was in a hurry, and it isn’t always easy to park . . .’

‘During the day,’ Audrey finished for him. ‘Yes. I know. But we are where we are.’

‘So?’ he asked a little impatiently. ‘Do you remember the box?’

Audrey cocked her head to one side and made a play of trying to remember, but then she conceded that no, she didn’t remember the box in question.

The knot in Pip’s stomach twisted tighter still. She knew exactly which box he was talking about and knew the precise location of the diary he was so desperate to recover – in her chest of drawers, hidden underneath her knickers. But if she admitted it then she would have to confess to having taken the diary herself (which was entirely against Audrey’s rules) and then keeping it, which would make it obvious that she had read it. The voice of her conscience was screaming at her to speak out, but she ignored it. She didn’t have the energy to be in trouble with Audrey and anyway, she didn’t know this man from Adam. He might have no more entitlement to the diary than she did, although she had to admit that was unlikely.

‘What would have happened to the box?’ asked the man. ‘In the ordinary course of events, I mean.’

‘Well, assuming it wasn’t stolen from the doorstep . . .’ replied Audrey, taking an exaggerated look at the sign, ‘then it would have been emptied the next time we were open, prepared for sale and then added to the shelves.’

‘But surely not the diary,’ the man said. He sounded truly desperate.

Audrey gave a little shrug in acknowledgement. ‘We wouldn’t usually put a diary out for sale unless it was of particular significance,’ she conceded.

The man seemed to brighten. ‘So where might it have gone? If it wasn’t put out for sale, I mean.’

‘Well, as I am the manager of the shop, any such items would be brought to me. And it wasn’t. I’m terribly sorry, Mr . . .’ She paused.

‘Mountcastle,’ he muttered.

Audrey seemed to do a little double take, but the gesture was so small that Pip might have been mistaken.

‘I’m terribly sorry, Mr Mountcastle, but I don’t seem to be able to help you.’