‘Sorry.’ Elizabeth allowed a reconciliatory smile and took the tray to a kitchen table. From there too, the reclined figure of Marion remained visible. ‘I said you have every right to know what I’m doing,’ continued Sara. ‘It seems that Kareem may be relevant to the Inquiry. He may have had some kind of involvement with extremist imams, vetting potential recruits for their so-called jihad. But it’s hazy and there’s no such thing as a reliable witness when one tries to probe.’

Elizabeth took a sip of coffee and a quick glance at her daughter. ‘I don’t know,’ she said.

Sara’s antennae went on red alert. ‘Don’t know what, Elizabeth?’

‘Whether to tell you.’

‘I beg you to. You have my promise that what you tell me will be treated in confidence.’

‘You see, we went there.’

‘Where?’ Sara asked softly, hiding her excitement.

‘It was June 2007. Marion had drifted away from us – we’d heard nothing from her for two years. About 5.30 a.m. one day the phone went. Normally we’d have ignored it but for some reason my husband, Denis – he’s died since…’

‘I’m sorry…’

‘Yes, I always feel it’s what killed him… anyway he must have been awake – always rose with the lark – and went downstairs to answer it. It was a short call. He came up and simply said, “She needs rescuing.” That’s all, he was so shaken. He said, “I’m going now.” I said, “I’m coming with you.” He tried to stop me. “I know it’s that man and I might kill him,” he said. “That’s exactly why I’m coming,” I said.’

‘“That man” meaning Kareem,’ suggested Sara.

‘Yes. We’d only met him twice. He came to stay with us once here in Devon. It was August 2001. We had rather a nice country house but I sold it after Denis died to find something more practical for Marion and the boy. And me, as it’s turned out…’

‘August 2001? Are you sure?’ Sara chided herself for allowing any consternation to slip.

‘Of course, why shouldn’t I be?’

‘Nothing. Nothing at all,’ she said, trying to recover. ‘Just seems so long ago.’

‘Not to me. He was unforgettable. Charming, polite, extraordinarily handsome. But a skin and soul of polished armour. You had no idea what might lie beneath. You could see she was hanging on his every word, obeying every command. Because command is what it felt like when he addressed her.’ Elizabeth was in thrall to a remembered image that seemed to burst into life before her.

‘And the second time?’