He came back with a tray holding a teapot, two china cups on saucers, and some biscuits. ‘Mum likes it done proper,’ he said.

‘It’s kind of her,’ she said. He poured. ‘As I said, it won’t take long.’

‘I’m not in a hurry,’ he said. ‘Not now anyway.’

‘That’s great. First up, I should ask you your name,’ she smiled.

He hesitated, frowning. She held both smile and silence. ‘Samir. That enough?’ She said nothing. ‘Most people call me Sami.’

‘That’s lovely, Sami, thank you. What’s your line of work? Don’t worry, nothing to do with this,’ she said, glancing down at her clipboard, ‘I’d just be interested.’

‘Security. Down at the Rovers. Mainly evenings and nights. Match days too. That’s why I’m home now.’

‘Blackburn Rovers?’

His face spread into a broad, innocent smile. ‘How d’you know that?’

‘Well, they’re a big team, aren’t they?’ Sara blessed the width of her research.

‘Yeah, once.’

‘The Championship’s not a bad place to be.’

‘Maybe we’ll get back into the Premiership sometime.’

‘Do you play?’

‘Used to. Not much now. Tend to keep myself to myself.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yeah, easier, know what I mean?’

‘Yes,’ she said with soft sympathy, ‘I know exactly what you mean, Sami.’

She sipped her cup of tea and looked happily at him, waiting. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘What’s this all about?’

‘Just want to ask you a few questions for the survey,’ she said.

‘Survey?’

‘Yes. Governments do them all the time. All anonymous. Just trying to find out what people think of their lives, what can be done to improve them, what their experiences have been.’

‘Sounds all right.’

‘Shall I start?’ Sara laid the clipboard on her lap and began a list of questions with multiple choice answers. She’d designed it to be innocuous without sounding pointless – ranges of satisfaction or dissatisfaction over dealings with employers, council officials, education service and the like. Ten minutes or so in, she came to the final question. Omitting it would appear odd – it might also provide clues.

‘OK, Sami, last one. The police.’

‘Police?’

‘Yes. Can’t leave them out, can we?’ Was there an anxious flicker of the eye or did she imagine it? If there was, it lasted just a millisecond. He was either sufficiently settled not to bridle further or cool enough not to react.

She went through the choices. Number of dealings over the past five years: 0, 1–5, 6–10…

‘Can’t say I’ve really had any,’ he said shortly.

‘OK. In that case, that’s it,’ she said.

‘You mean we’re done.’

‘Yes.’ She began to rise.

‘No hurry. Have another cup of tea.’

She sank back and sighed. ‘Are you sure? Your mum won’t mind?’

‘Nah.’