Leticia repeated what she’d said, then added: ‘I know this sounds really stupid, but they look just like the glasses that I saw Neville Rollason wearing.’ She fiddled in her bag and brought out the tissue-wrapped arm, and opened it on the kitchen table in front of her.

Verity didn’t look at it, but stared straight at Leticia. ‘I’ve never met him.’ The hangover voice had transmuted to the work voice. Emphatic, crisp and incontrovertible. ‘So it’s impossible, isn’t it?’

‘Of course,’ Leticia said. ‘As I say, I’m probably mistaken.’

Another silence. Verity glanced down as if even seeing the object would implicate her: ‘Ah! I think I know. The Ferrari symbol is the giveaway. They’re my brother’s. He borrowed my car last week. It’s probably from his spare pair. Keeps all sorts of junk in the boot.’ She gave a high little laugh that sounded forced. Back to the old Verity who didn’t know how to smile. Crapped-upon bathmat Verity.

‘I think it’s broken.’ Leticia pointed to the bent hinge wire. ‘He’ll probably need a new pair.’

Verity picked up the plastic arm and inspected it. ‘Why did you wrap it up like this, with a tissue and everything?’

Leticia laughed. ‘Actually, to preserve any fingerprints.’

‘What?’ Verity’s mouth hung open in shock.

Now it was Leticia’s turn to give a high-pitched nervous laugh. She rolled her eyes and said: ‘I was thinking, you know, it was in case you had bumped him off and I had to go to the police about it. I know, I know, it was stupid. I watch too many detective dramas.’ She was aware she was flapping her hands about nervously. ‘I wasn’t thinking straight.’

‘No, I can see that. You obviously don’t have a very high opinion of me.’

Verity’s complexion was ashen, her lips almost pewter. Leticia realised that even to have someone casually consider you capable of murder was not very nice. Verity turned away and fiddled with the coffee things. She spilled some milk, and tutted. A teaspoon jangled and fell onto the floor. They both bent to retrieve it, their heads almost clashing. She could smell Verity’s breath, last night’s wine mixed with something a little bit sour. The stare she gave her on the way up was hostile.

Coffee was made, and while Leticia sat at the kitchen table Verity turned away and fiddled with her phone, tapping out a text.

‘Did you mention this to anyone? You know, thinking you had discovered Rollason’s spectacles in my car?’

‘Only my boyfriend. He thought I was imagining things.’

Verity’s forced laugh again. ‘Sensible boyfriend.’ She was still standing by the kitchen counter working her phone.