‘I’m looking for Doug.’

‘He doesn’t work here any more.’ He eased himself into his seat. ‘You come about the booking to Birmingham?’

I explained that I needed to talk to Doug. At first he wouldn’t give me Doug’s address but when I explained the situation he looked at me with a mild flicker of interest. I suspected his curiosity was seldom roused.

‘No skin off my nose,’ he shrugged, and wrote the address down on a piece of paper. ‘But don’t tell him or he’ll have my guts for garters.’

I sat in the car, suddenly drained of energy. Across the airfield a private jet shot into the sky. The rich can always escape; they have the lawyers and the private islands. They can be out of this world, sealed off in their own Goodwin Sands somewhere in the Caribbean. And even if they look like toads, which they often did, they have the beautiful women. For thirty years Calvin had flown them to their corporate shindigs and gated mansions. I wondered whether the greed that finally undid him sprang from envy, from his proximity to these people, or from the cruelty of his childhood. He had the beautiful wife, however. He had the pool and all the trappings.

I’d never truly understood him. One day I might be able to look back on it and laugh at my stupidity. But not now, not yet.

Doug’s house was only a mile away. At least I wouldn’t have to meet Johanna; their marriage had broken down when Calvin was arrested, and Doug had kicked her out.

Still, my heart pounded as I parked outside his house. Doug was there in his front garden, bent over a motorbike. He straightened up, frowning, when he saw me. Then his face cleared.

‘Well, well, it’s Patience,’ he said.

He flashed me a smile. I guessed he wasn’t too pleased to see me but he was a smooth operator—deeply tanned, white teeth, a man who’d spent a lifetime charming the rich. He wore a boiler suit with ‘Texaco’ emblazoned over his heart.

‘So what can I do for you?’ he asked, wiping his hands on a rag.

‘I just wanted to, you know, have a chat.’

He glanced up and down the street. ‘You’d better come in.’

He opened the front door. A huge dog leaped at me, growling. It put its paws on my shoulders and I staggered back.

‘Don’t worry about Bella, she’s a pussycat.’ Doug pulled the dog off me and playfully hit its nose. ‘Just a big baby, aren’t you, sweetie?’

The room was a mess. On the floor, dismembered engine parts lay spread out on newspapers.

‘Take a pew.’ Doug gestured to a sofa. I sat down and he leaned against the wall, watching me. He was still smiling. ‘I have to say, this is a surprise.’