‘Impressive.’

‘Worked part-time on a local newspaper throughout university. Hold on, it says here she’s been offered an internship with the Guardian – beat twelve hundred other applicants. But she can’t afford to take it up.’

‘One for the interview pile?’

‘Definitely.’ She smiled. ‘This is a good thing we’re – you’re – doing,’ she said. ‘Becky would have approved.’

‘It’s all inspired by her.’

‘Thanks, Greg,’ she said.

‘What for?’

‘Helping keep her memory alive. It’s been hard, the last year. Some people talk about her; some think it makes it too painful. But I’d rather talk. If I don’t, it’s as if she was never there.’

‘It’ll never be like that.’

‘Last Christmas, I got my first card addressed just to me, without her name in. It was from a girl from work. She thought she was being sensitive, but it had me weeping on the floor. It was as if Becky had been erased. And that’s my greatest fear. That she’ll be forgotten.’ Kate felt herself get emotional and quickly picked up another paper. ‘Look at this one. Three spelling mistakes in the opening sentence! Becky would’ve had her red pen out. She was a stickler for spelling. Grammar too. Only person I knew who could use a semi-colon properly. Or at least I think she could. I wouldn’t know the difference.’

‘What was her writing like?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well . . . you said before she liked to work on investigative stories.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Anything in particular?’

‘Her first piece at the paper was on corruption in the Premier League – bribes and so on. Not her story but she supported her boss.’

‘Impressive. What else?’

‘There was something she was working on just before she died. Something big.’

‘Oh, yeah? What was it?’

Kate paused. She suddenly realized she didn’t want to say anything about Becky’s unfinished story – not yet. She had a lead she was hoping to follow up in the morning but until anything was concrete, she didn’t want to discuss it with anyone. She shrugged. ‘She never told me. I’d ask but it was too top secret.’ That wasn’t a lie. She looked at him and got the sense he didn’t believe her, but he smiled.

‘If you do find anything, it would be great to know. We could incorporate it as part of Becky’s legacy. Something inspirational to put on the bursary website.’

‘That would be good.’

‘Did she have a computer? There might be something there that would give you an insight into what she was doing.’

‘Some kids broke in. Trashed the house. They took it.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s OK.’

‘Notebooks?’

Kate brightened. ‘It’s possible. I haven’t actually cleared her room out.’ Her face fell again. ‘Actually, we didn’t find any when we put it back together again after the break-in.’ She sighed inwardly. If only I still had the laptop, it might have given me more information, she thought. Like who owns Ashdown Farm.