When he returned to the cottage, dripping with sweat, the pleasant sting of lactic acid in his muscles, Lewis came bounding into the yard to greet him. However, something else was also in his yard – a van with Hexworthy Organics emblazoned on its side in large green letters, its engine idling.

Crap. It was early.

Lewis, the traitor, went running off, tail wagging, to greet the driver, but Brody cut around the back of the outbuildings that were part of his property. Talking to the man wasn’t necessary: he always left a note with his order for the driver to leave everything in the small and very ancient conservatory that served as a mudroom. He wouldn’t quibble about substitutions. He’d take whatever they brought.

He entered his garden and slipped back into the house through the French doors that led from the patio into his living room and then entered the study next door. This guy must be new, because he was pounding on the front door, yelling: ‘Hello?’ Lewis was barking along, just for the sheer joy of joining in. Stupid dog.

Read your clipboard, mate, Brody thought. All the relevant information is on there, and then you can sling your hook and leave me alone.

What Brody could really do with was a shower, but the stairs could be seen through the glazed portion of the front door, so he sat down in his desk chair and waited, staring at a patch of chipped paint on the windowsill until the knocking stopped and he heard the rumble of an engine pulling out of the yard and disappearing down the lane.

Chapter Fourteen

EXACTLY A WEEK later, Brody’s phone rang again. He was sitting in his small study, a fire tickling the logs in the grate. The room was crammed with shelves of books of all shapes and sizes. In the corner was a rather ancient high-backed armchair, left behind by the previous owners – as was much of the furniture in the house. At the time, it had seemed the easiest option. In front of the window was an old wooden desk, the kind with a green leather top. There wasn’t much on it but a fine layer of dust and his mobile phone.

Its usually blank and lifeless screen lit up just after ten that evening, vibrating softly on the leather surface of the desk. Lewis raised his head from his paws as Brody stood up to fetch it and replaced it when his master was once again seated in the armchair next to the fire.

‘Brody?’ she said, sounding for all the world as if she expected to be talking to herself, or an empty room.

‘I’m here.’

He heard Anna’s sigh of relief. ‘I hoped you would be.’

He smiled, surprised at how pleased he was to hear her voice again.

She inhaled, held her breath for a second, then said, ‘I have a question I’d like to ask you. I’ve tried asking other people, but I suspect they’re telling me what they think I want to hear, rather than giving me an honest answer.’