‘Yeah, but you didn’t—’

‘I did my crosswords. And entered competitions. Won us a washing machine. Still going, it is, too. You know, as much as I wasn’t keen on his jealous streak, it was nice to feel loved. He was never possessive, never stifling. The irony was he always wanted me home of an evening and then the minute I retired – early mind, so we could spend some time together – he went and took up with the angels. Never been so lonely as that first night at home without him. I suppose I was getting a taste of what he’d had all those years.’

Kate squeezed her arm.

‘And I’ve never really said this, but it was only you turning up with your Becky that stopped me from sinking low. Gave me someone else to look after.’

‘Let’s just say we saved each other’s bacon,’ said Kate.

They’d stopped at the chilled aisle.

‘What’s that?’ asked Iris, pointing at some plastic filled trays.

‘Sushi.’

‘It looks like fish.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Is it raw?’

‘Yes.’

Iris pulled a face. ‘Stick it in the trolley. Maybe you could do with some as well.’

‘Whatever for?’

‘Those headaches.’

‘There haven’t been that many.’

‘Two in a row? Funny how it’s been both times after you’ve come back from that place. Ramsbourne, did you say it was?’

‘That’s right. Yes, I suppose it has.’

‘Maybe it’s an ill place.’

Kate snorted. ‘Don’t be daft. Not the whole village is ill.’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘No!’

‘Well, must be just that part of the village then.’

Kate pondered. ‘I think you just hold a deep suspicion for the countryside.’

‘Never lived anywhere but south London and never seen the need to. Except maybe Spain,’ she said wistfully. ‘Always fancied trying that flamenco. Had a good pair of legs in my time.’ She looked into the trolley. ‘Are we done? I could do with a cup of decaffeinated and an organic rice cake.’

After Kate had escorted Iris back on the bus and put her shopping away for her, she headed home. She felt at a loose end. In truth she wasn’t used to having so much time off. An email pinged in her inbox and she saw it was from Greg, inviting her to check over the wording for the press release for the bursary. He’d suggested it might be called the Becky Ellis Foundation and she agreed and emailed him to say so. He answered back straight away, saying how glad he was that she approved. Then the computer went silent. There didn’t seem to be anything to do and she was distracted, unsettled. All those ill people . . . she couldn’t get it out of her head.

She idly googled Ramsbourne and clicked on a map of the village. She found her way around the lanes, going from house to house, looking at all the ones she had visited, and realized that they were all in the same part of the village, to the south. She zoomed in. What else was around there? Nothing. Only a farm and a small river that ran further south. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking for and sighed; it was silly, really. She’d let Iris’s words get to her.