She spotted him about to round the corner, head down, hands thrust into his pockets, hood up. Fury overcame her. How dare you. She ran, the lorry slammed on its brakes. Someone shouted a profanity at her. She didn’t care. Nothing mattered to her in that moment other than catching up with Martin. She almost lost her footing on the kerb. The forward momentum carried her into the man in the coat and they fell forward, Georgie’s hand on his shoulder. He reacted, defensive, shouted.

‘Hey!’

‘You!’

He turned, crashed into the hedge, fear splashed across his face.

Her face.

Georgie recoiled. It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t Martin.

‘What are you doing?’ she said, brushing herself down irritably.

Elinor Fox was wearing a heavy, oversized coat buttoned up. The hood had fallen down, her long hair was tied back. Georgie felt her stomach clench. She had been so sure, but so wrong. How?

‘Oh, Georgie,’ Fox said, suddenly relaxing. ‘It’s you. You gave me quite a scare.’

‘What are you doing here, Elinor?’

‘Getting pushed into a bush by an angry lawyer, for some reason.’ Georgie folded her arms. Fox relented. ‘OK, fine, I was just hoping to have a word with you about the trial.’

Georgie pushed past her. ‘I can’t help you.’

‘Wait!’

The urgency in Fox’s plea forced Georgie to a standstill. She turned. The reporter was shuffling her feet, trying to look innocent, but she wasn’t wearing any make-up and her cheeks were flushed. Did she run here?

‘Wait,’ Fox repeated. ‘I want the Eliases taken down as much as you do.’

‘Why?’

‘I’ve always hated them. My mum told me about them a long time ago, so I started looking into it but no one was prepared to talk, except Simeon.’

‘So this is like your personal little quest?’

Fox let out a frustrated snort. ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, Georgie, we’re on the same side.’

‘It just doesn’t seem like a very good explanation.’ George folded her arms. ‘Your mum said they were worth looking into, and now it’s like a crusade.’ She started to walk off again but Fox called her back. Her tone had changed again, an attempt at nice.

‘Georgie, wait. OK. I’m sorry. I came here looking for Charlie, but you just happened to walk out when I arrived. That’s all. Will you talk to me?’