‘So, Edward Purser,’ Noah continued, clearly oblivious to her unease. ‘How did they know he’d pushed Anna, that she hadn’t just fallen – or taken her own life when she realized her husband knew about her affair?’ He winced, as if even talking about such horrible things pained him.

Audrey sighed. ‘When Anna was found, she was clutching a large button, her fingers cold and stiff around it.’ She reached over and took Hannah’s hand, turning it over so it was palm-side up. Hannah stared at it, part of her expecting the button to materialize. ‘It was the button from a man’s overcoat,’ Audrey continued. ‘Beautiful and expensive, and much more suited to the businessman than the Cornish fisherman.’

‘They discovered that Edward had a button missing?’ Noah asked.

‘Not quite, Noah.’ Audrey paused, her plump lips parted. Hannah could see that Noah was hanging on her every word, but all she could think about was Beth. Babe.

‘What then?’ Hannah whispered, trying to focus on the story.

‘His overcoat was examined, of course, and all the buttons were there. But the policeman looked again, because something had caught his eye – something bright on the sombre black coat. One of the buttons, at chest height, was sewn on with a different coloured thread to the rest. Blue rather than black. And on looking more closely, he saw that the button itself was unique, with five holes instead of four.’

‘Was that enough to accuse him of murder?’ Noah asked. He brought his glass to his lips and took a long swallow.

Audrey shook her head. ‘Nobody could prove when the button had been changed – that it hadn’t been in London, months before Anna’s death. It wasn’t conclusive evidence, and in those days there were no forensics, events weren’t recorded as rigorously, and of course a wealthy, influential businessman was much more likely to be believed than a fisherman. Edward Purser didn’t want the matter pursued, choosing to put his wife’s appalling death down to a tragic accident rather than foul play which, in itself, was rather telling.’

‘Too right,’ Noah murmured.

‘It wasn’t until months later, when Mr Purser had gone back to London to rebuild his life, that other evidence came to light.’

‘What was that?’ Hannah asked.

‘A chambermaid at the hotel admitted that Edward had sought her out, asking for a sewing kit. Apparently his wife’s had been left at home. He said he had a rip in his shirt, but he wouldn’t let the chambermaid do the work, instead wanting to borrow the needle and thread. She gave it to him and agreed not to mention it – it was unheard of for a man of such high standing to be doing his own repairs in that way. Once Anna’s body had been found, she was too afraid to say anything.’

‘So he did it then,’ Noah said, leaning back with a loud exhale.

‘And Anna’s the ghost?’ Hannah asked. ‘Thrown to her death on the cliffs just outside the hotel? It’s her footsteps in reception, running away from Edward again and again. Oh!’ She gasped. ‘Or perhaps she’s trying to run to her fisherman? God.’ Emotion burnt in the back of her throat.