‘This is here? In this country?’

‘I know it’s hard to believe.’ She came away from the computer and sat down next to him on the sofa, sinking into the worn cushions in the middle. ‘But think about it. What’s gonna happen if suddenly someone owns up to the fact that this is a national scandal? Think about the payouts.’ Kate took a sip of her drink. ‘I read this story. About this retired guy who was in his driveway that backed onto a field when the sprayers came past. He was sorting something under his car, couldn’t get out in time. His mouth and chest were burned by the chemicals. His vocal cords collapsed and now he can hardly speak.’

Tim’s mouth dropped open. ‘That’s . . . horrific. And the industry and the government know about this but still do nothing?’

‘Yep. There’s loads more, too. I’ve found story after story of people who’ve suffered – kids, old people – some of them fatally.’

‘But . . .’ Tim shook his head, bewildered. ‘They can’t do that.’

‘Except they do.’ Kate exhaled. ‘It’s awful. What d’you do?’

‘What can you do? Apart from don’t buy a house next to a farm.’

‘But that’s so wrong. What about all those people who didn’t know about this when they bought their homes? Who still don’t know about it? Whose children, families, are getting ill. It’s not just houses you know, some schools back onto the fields. Imagine your kid playing outside at breaktime every summer for twelve years, breathing this stuff in. Getting it on their skin. There’s been reports of sickness, rashes on children—’ Kate was interrupted by her phone. She looked at the cracked screen, bit her lip. ‘It’s Grace. I think I really upset her today. I shouldn’t have just gone down there, wading in with this.’

‘I don’t think it’s the sort of thing you can water down.’

Kate picked up the phone. ‘Hello?’

‘Hi, it’s Grace.’

‘I should apologize—’

‘No. No, it’s OK. There’s something I’ve remembered. When the twins were babies, John was the sleeper. He’d go for at least two hours every morning and afternoon. Arnie would only nap for an hour at most. He’d wake his brother and I’d have a grumpy baby on my hands for the rest of the day. So, I changed their routine. I’d put John to bed in the cot upstairs and Arnie –’ she caught her breath – ‘Arnie, I would put in the pram. Outside. So he didn’t wake his brother. He’d sleep in the garden. He’d be there when all those sprayers went past.’

Kate swallowed. ‘It’s not your fault, Grace.’

Grace started to cry, small controlled sobs. ‘I didn’t know. I didn’t know.’

Kate couldn’t sleep. She listened to the sound of Tim snuffling beside her and felt the tiredness in her bones, but her mind wouldn’t switch off. Every time she thought about Grace and Arnie, she was enveloped by a wave of outrage and helplessness. It was so unfair. Big companies, big corporations, they could do what they wanted. Nobody listened. Nobody cared as long as they were making money. Her fists were clenched and, sighing, she tried for the umpteenth time to relax. It was like what had happened with Becky, all over again. How many people had to die before someone did something? She felt Tim stir beside her. Her restlessness was disturbing him. She suddenly sat up. Someone has to do something. She nudged Tim. He groaned.