‘And you did not actually own that woodland, did you, Ms Plant? It was not your land – is that correct?’

‘Yes. None of it is, now,’ I say. We sold the Verona house. We would never go back, of course we wouldn’t, even if we weren’t estranged. We sold it at a grotesque undervalue to an ex-pat couple who apparently went around it without saying a word and, at the last second, asked to see the spot in the woods, which they photographed, later selling the images to an Italian newspaper.

‘Yes, you sold the villa last year, didn’t you? And the profits went to –’

‘We divided them up.’ I can’t look at Joe as I say it.

‘Right. And so going back to the day after, say, after the body burial in July. Was there any indication that was where Will was? Or was he very well buried?’

‘I …’ I say.

‘Ms Plant,’ the barrister says, like I am being difficult. Jason reaches to touch my barrister on the shoulder, who rises to his feet immediately, like he’s mechanized, a slow jack-in-a-box. I didn’t realize how powerful Jason was until recently, when I googled him properly: the Midlands’ most successful criminal solicitor. No wonder Frannie chose him initially, even though she now can’t use him.

‘Your Honour,’ the barrister says, ‘the witness is being asked the most difficult questions, and I rather struggle to see where they are headed.’

The judge looks wordlessly to the other barrister, who says, apologetically, ‘I am merely trying to ascertain how well hidden the body was.’

‘Then proceed,’ the judge says. The barrister turns his gaze back to me, expecting me to answer.

‘No, you couldn’t tell,’ I say softly. ‘You couldn’t tell at all.’

‘Thank you, Ms Plant. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?’ he says, so exasperated that he turns and pours a cup of water so he can get in a few more shakes of his head in the time he buys himself.

‘Your Honour,’ Jason says, getting to his feet. ‘While I am aware this is not convention – our witness is … she is in a difficult position with the –’

‘Mr Granger,’ the judge says, his tone surprised, ‘whatever betrayal or otherwise is going on in the Plant family, I am afraid it is imperative that your client must answer the questions given.’

Jason sits back down and throws me a helpless look, an apologetic look. I try to smile at him, but the line of my mouth will be wobbly, I know it will, through barely contained tears and emotion; a child’s carelessly drawn smile.

‘No, no,’ I say, trying to be stoic in the witness box. ‘Please just carry on. Just get it over with. Ask them all.’

49.

Then

Joe

Evan is in Joe’s consultation room when Joe walks back in after surgery on Friday night to get his wallet and phone. Joe has nowhere to be. Lydia isn’t speaking to him. Carina hasn’t returned his latest call asking for an update on the woodland search. And now this.