‘You’re her mother,’ said Barkley mildly. ‘You’re supposed to worry.’

‘I know I am. I will if you think it’ll help. But I’ve never found that worry does much good. It might make the worrier feel virtuous, but beyond that, it seems rather futile to me.’

‘I’m not sure it’s possible to control it, is it? You’re either worried or you’re not. You can’t deliberately worry – can you?’

‘You can a bit. But worriers don’t seem capable of switching it off, so you got that part right. I’m just not a worrier. Jess knows that. She even claims to like it that way. It’s not very nice to be worried over, after all.’

‘Isn’t it?’ There was a distinct wistfulness in her voice. ‘Anyway, that’s not the point. The team are worried about her. They think somebody ought to be informed that she might need some help. She’s on her own up there – no family or boyfriend or anyone. She’s not very old, is she? When did you last see her?’

Thea felt rather as she had on Tuesday when Jocelyn had said the same things. ‘A while ago. Listen, I texted her and she called me yesterday, and she sounded fine. She doesn’t want me dashing up there to cross-examine her about drinking, or whatever it is. What good could I do? I know it sounds bad – but that’s the sort of family 260we are. We’re not very demonstrative. No gushing or sentimentality.’

Barkley was driving, and couldn’t give Thea the long questioning look she’d have liked to. But ten seconds later they were at the Corner House, and the car stopped. The younger woman turned sideways and said nothing for a moment. Then, ‘Don’t you understand about support? Just being there, ready to listen to her, taking an interest. Not just leaving her to sort herself out, and taking her word for it that she’s okay. You know quite well she’s not, because people have been telling you. You don’t have to solve anything, or tell her what to do. But she sounds to me to be struggling. I’ve never even met her, and I’m worried.’

Thea sat back in her seat, disliking herself with a vengeance. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I’m such an awful person. Everything that happened this week just makes that more obvious. Forgetting the anniversary. Making Grace sleep on the floor. Agreeing to meet bloody Clovis—’

‘Who? Surely not that man whose dad died? The one with the fancy clothes and expensive scent?’

Thea nodded. ‘He’s got a girlfriend now. First really serious one ever, apparently.’

‘Bully for him. What’s that to do with you?’

‘Nothing. But he fancies himself as an amateur detective – probably after what happened when his dad died. I got the impression he’s trying to impress his woman – she works for conservation charities, apparently. I told him all about Grace being killed and he wants to help with the investigation. That’s okay, isn’t it?’ Belatedly, 261she realised that it was generally frowned upon by the police for details of a case to be shared with members of the public. ‘I didn’t tell him anything sensitive.’ At least, she hoped she didn’t.