‘Nope. Drove straight off. Left me lying in the road with a fractured thigh. That was my warning to leave Elizabeth well alone.’

‘You think …’ She couldn’t bring herself to say out loud what she was thinking.

‘Yes. I do. And, just so we’re clear about this, I’m one hundred per cent certain it was Harry Sinclair, either directly or indirectly.’

Steph gulped down an eruption of fear at the thought of Harry committing such a horrific act of premeditated violence. If Cam was to be believed, then he could easily have been killed that night. ‘Did you go to the police?’ Her voice still harboured a note of incredulity.

‘They weren’t interested. Yeah, they made all the right noises but it was a half-hearted attempt at catching whoever it was. They said without a witness or registration plate they had no chance of questioning anyone.’

‘What about CCTV?’

‘Well, there’s the thing. Turns out the only CCTV in that part of the road belongs to one of the local residents, who has a camera angled at their garage. And that particular night it wasn’t working. Convenient, that.’

‘You think they—?’

‘I don’t think,’ interrupted Cameron. ‘I know. I just can’t prove anything.’

‘The police officer who dealt with this – do you remember their name?’ The goose pimples crept across her neck and swept down Steph’s spine.

‘I can’t remember her name but she was a right sourpuss from CID.’

It had to be Wendy, surely. Steph gripped her glass to stop her hand from shaking. Wendy had warned her off getting involved. At the time Steph had thought it was for her own safety, but now it seemed increasingly likely Wendy was trying to protect herself. Just how much was her mother involved with the Sinclairs? ‘Weren’t there any witnesses in the pub who could have spoken up for you and made the police take the hit-and-run more seriously, or at least question the Sinclairs?’

‘No one wanted to come forward. Basically, no one wanted to cross the Sinclairs. To add insult to injury, the family cancelled my beer contract with them and the yoga classes I used to run up at Conmere.’

‘Just like that?’

For the first time Cameron looked a little embarrassed. ‘Well, I took some compensation from them.’

‘They paid you off?’ The words came out unchecked.

‘Keep your voice down,’ hissed Cameron, giving the pub a quick glance. ‘Put it this way, they made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,’ he said in an adopted New York City gangster accent.