Neither spoke as they ate. There was only the crisp bite and the chew, and the slurp of coffee that slipped down Ben’s throat like a life-giving elixir. It was the same sound Aoife made with every drink. She had always been of the opinion, in her three long years of life, that everything tasted better when slurped. They had put it to the test one weekend. First water and then orange juice, and finally a cup of Coke was brought into the experiment. Consistent with past findings, the Coke was determined the winner. In the days after she went back to Donegal, Ben still slurped his drinks in private.

Chloe was so quiet. It didn’t take a mind reader to know why. She’d locked the house down as soon as he returned indoors. Ben hadn’t argued. He hadn’t really said much of anything. Windows had their clasps tested, doubted, and tested again. Curtains and blinds were drawn in every room. He had wanted to keep an eye on the street outside in case the man returned, but Chloe wanted to sit together, to wait for the dawn, sharing the couch like a vessel on icy water. The curtains, whether he liked it or not, had stayed shut.

Ben hadn’t lain down with the intent to sleep and had no recollection of closing his eyes. He remembered sitting beside her, both buried into their respective corners, and then nothing else. Sleep clicked its fingers like a hypnotist and it was eleven o’clock the next day.

‘I did some research while you were sleeping,’ Chloe said, returning her plate of crumbs to the table. ‘I thought I’d see what I could find out about Carol Fortune. You know, the girl your friend Joe told us about.’

‘The one Sparling had been in touch with?’

‘Yeah,’ she replied, ‘that’s the one. Well, it turns out that there’s a good reason why Joe hasn’t heard from her since then.’

Ben looked to her as he stole another sip from his coffee. He knew what was coming next. Chloe was biting her lip as though she didn’t want to say it.

‘Go on,’ he said, ‘tell me.’

‘She went missing two years ago. No one has seen or heard from her since. There was an investigation and everything.’

Before Ben could react, Chloe was up and pacing into the kitchen. He reached forward to put his mug down. A splash of coffee puddled on the table. His wasn’t the first offence. Its wood was already streaked with stains. There were even lacerations on its side where someone had gone at it with a knife to occupy their boredom.