She watched them for a while, following Hemingway’s movement across the tank with her finger.

‘This one is smaller than the others.’

‘That’s Hemingway.’

‘Why do you have them?’

‘My sister bought me the larger one, Orwell, years ago, as a present. I stepped on one once in a South African bay, almost killed me. She bought that tank, had it installed as a surprise. Best present I’ve ever had. My niece loves them, so I added to the collection.’

‘Now they’re your only friends?’ She turned to him. ‘How touching.’

Priest nodded, but he felt the weight of her look and of his internal conflict. There was nothing to like: she was arrogant, scheming, amoral. But her body, her lips, her long legs and the way she tossed her hair over her shoulder, knowing exactly what the effect was – it all spoke a different language, one he didn’t understand, but his groin easily translated.

He wanted her to move away from the lionfish. Whenever he watched them, he just thought of Tilly, and how she loved them. Elinor’s presence by their tank felt somehow threatening. She walked towards him, leant over, took hold of her coat draped across the back of the sofa and whispered. ‘You’ll be back for more, won’t you?’

Without waiting for a reply, she took her coat and whisked off. Moments later, he heard the front door slam.

Priest exhaled, relieved. He thought about calling Jessica. Hearing her voice would make him feel better, even if it was only to hear her tell him to piss off. But it could wait. Something had caught his eye, a flutter of movement, falling off Fox’s coat as she had picked it up.

He checked the sofa where he thought it had fallen and, yes, there it was. Well, I’ll be damned.

He picked up the hair that had fallen off Fox’s coat. Studied it. It was long and unmistakably blue.

Chapter 34

Chapter 34

The back garden to the pebble-dashed house ended abruptly at a rickety fence that ran across the rim of a grass basin, through which a railway line had once run. The tracks had long since been removed, although the odd sleeper could be found rotting on the side. The basin was overgrown with nettles and weeds.

About a quarter of a mile down, the wooden footbridge crossed the basin, although this had also fallen into disuse and was boarded up at both ends. Metal signs had been affixed to the boards warning of the consequences of trespassing.

The only people to use the abandoned railway line were kids looking for trouble, and even that was rare.

The owner sat in the basin crouched behind a mound of earth looking at the rabbit two hundred yards away in the crosshairs. The creature had dared to show itself a few minutes before, oblivious to the danger it was in.