She didn’t particularly like herself at times like this, seeing how her inner clockwork functioned so clearly. Then again, she wasn’t sure how well she liked herself full stop. She climbed out of the bath, dried herself off and dressed again.

She towelled her hair, typed up incident reports on Tony Harper’s death and her visit to Barrowman Farm, then emailed them to Tom Graham. The hourglass icon hovered and spun, but just when she thought it was about to time out, the message showed as having been despatched. She sighed in relief, then flopped back onto the bed to relax before –

The doorbell rang.

Ellie went downstairs, then stopped. Her address was no secret; the Harpers could easily know where she lived. She went into the living room and picked up the baton.

The doorbell rang again, and someone started pounding on the door. “Ellie!” Milly shouted. “Let us in, for fuck’s sake.”

Ellie peeped through the spyhole, just in case: the image of Paul Harper holding a knife to Milly’s throat was as insistent as it was unwelcome. But she only saw Milly and Noel; the street behind them was empty apart from the snow.

“Ellie!”

She opened the door. “Sorry –”

“Bloody hell.” Milly bustled past her down the hallway. “Trying to fucking kill us?”

“Hi, Milly,” Ellie called after her. “You okay, Noel?”

“Not bad, Ell. You?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Where’s that bloody wine you promised me, Cheetham?” Milly called.

“Shit. Left it in the car.”

Milly snatched the keys from her as Noel wandered into the room and tossed them to him. “Jones! Wine. In the Land Rover. Go fetch.”

“Whereabouts?”

“Passenger footwell,” Ellie said. “In a Co-Op bag.”

“Roger and wilco, Red Leader.”

Noel went out. A cold draught blew into the living-room and outside the Land Rover’s locks beeped and clunked. Milly took Ellie’s hands. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Ell.”

She shrugged. “It’s the Harpers, you know?”

“It’s not just that. Come on, what?”

The car door slammed. The locks beeped and clunked again, and the front door banged as Noel came back through.

“Fucksake. You born in a barn, Jones?”

He held up a bottle of wine, and a dripping Co-Op bag. “Other one was broken.”

“Well get it in the bin then. Don’t drip it on the carpet.” Milly grinned as Noel trotted into the kitchen. “Got him well-trained.”

Ellie managed a smile.

“Your Land Rover’s been in the wars a bit,” said Noel as he came back in.

Milly raised her eyebrows. “Well? Come on, Ell, talk to me.”

“Chilli’s in the cooker.”

“Fuck the chilli.”

“You’re supposed to eat it.”

“Jones. Chilli.” Noel went into the kitchen. Milly raised her eyebrows. She wasn’t letting it go. Ellie sighed.

“All right. Fine. Things kicked off a bit.”

“A bit?”

“Want some wine?”