‘Safe as houses.’

‘Even glyphosate? Only, I’m sure that one was classified as – oh, what was it? – “probably carcinogenic to humans”. You have any glyphosate in your products? In Crixus?’

‘Sure. But I promise you, it’s nothing to worry about.’

‘How safe is it?’

‘Eh?’

‘How safe?’

‘Perfectly. It’s used in agriculture all over the world.’

‘Sprayed on crops?’

‘Certainly.’

‘What if there are people living nearby? When it’s sprayed?’

He hesitated. ‘Yeah, fine. Course it is. Where did you say you were from again?’

She ignored the question. ‘Has Senerix done any long-term studies on human exposure to glyphosate and the other chemicals you use to manufacture Crixus?’

He cooled in front of her eyes. ‘It’s safe,’ he reiterated. ‘They’re all safe.’

‘But have you tested what happens with long-term exposure, such as that experienced by residents near farms?’

He refused to answer.

‘I’ll take that as a no. Or maybe it’s a yes, and you didn’t like the results. So how can you claim they’re safe? Because I, and several other people, believe that they cause a number of life-threatening diseases.’

He laughed, patronizingly this time. ‘Darling, you could drink any of our products as if they were orange juice.’

‘That’s your claim?’

‘They’re not going to harm anyone.’

‘That’s good to hear. Perhaps I could film you?’

‘What?’

She reached over to the shelf at the side of the booth. Retrieved a small plastic bottle of Crixus from the display. ‘Drinking a glass of this. As if it were orange juice.’

He stared at her, eyes glinting. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘It’s not me who suggested it as a possibility.’

Roger stood up. ‘I think this meeting is over.’

‘Ah, come on, Roger, there’s loads I’d still like to talk to you about.’

He gave her one last look and walked away. Kate watched him and then picked up her bag and jacket and left the stand.

She’d barely gone fifty metres when a hand landed on her shoulder. ‘Excuse me?’

She jumped, whipped round. ‘You!’ she said angrily.

‘Sorry if I scared you,’ said the red-headed man. He smiled, and Kate noticed he had a dimple in his chin. He was looking at her strangely, as if he was trying to place her. ‘I’m sorry to bother you but –’ he suddenly looked unsure of himself – ‘are you, by any chance, Kate Ellis?’

Who was this man? Kate scanned her memory bank but didn’t recognize him. Was he a customer from work?

He seemed to notice her discomfort. ‘Sorry. I’m Adam Langley. I think I might have been friends with your daughter, Becky?’

It took a second, and then it came flooding back. The guy from Becky’s university. The one she’d been dating, albeit briefly.

‘Am I right?’ he said. ‘Are you her mum?’

She nodded. ‘I am.’

‘Phew. Thought I was about to totally humiliate myself there. How is Becky?’

She looked at his face, earnest and curious. He doesn’t know.

She lightly touched her fingers on his arm and said, her voice catching slightly: ‘She . . . died. Last year.’