‘At least you know there’s nothing more you could have done. If the CPR didn’t work, an ambulance crew wouldn’t have revived him either.’

They rocked together. ‘I’m sweaty,’ he added, unnecessarily, although he knew she didn’t mind. She always told him she loved his smell: tobacco and sawdust. He was a whole foot taller than her, and she pressed her face into the right side of his chest, where he could feel his heart beat against her ear. Perhaps they had been that way round in the womb.

It gave him a pang of actual, physical pain when he thought about how they had been estranged for more than ten years when they were younger, until the terrible event that at least had the corollary of bringing her back to him.

What a waste. But then, she had behaved like a complete dick. They’d made up for it since. He used to work for film studios, building sets, but when he moved to the area to be nearer Meredith ten years ago, he’d rented a workshop and shop front, and started taking commissions for tables and cabinets made of slabs of cherry or oak, inlaid with mother of pearl in intricate designs.

Last year he’d moved from his tiny cottage into a beautiful Dutch barge that Meredith insisted on buying for him. It was called the Barton Bee and was moored on the River Wey at a marina just on the outskirts of Minstead Village, a mile from Minstead House. Now he saw Meredith several times a week, without fail.

He often wondered if their mutual adoration was the reason they were both over fifty and single. Nobody else was ever good enough.

‘I keep thinking I should’ve run to get the defibrillator, but it was too far away.’ Meredith’s voice was muffled.

She finally pushed herself away from him and stared up into his face. Hers looked ravaged, a sickly greeny-yellow with huge black shadows under her eyes, like she had the worst possible hangover.

‘Maybe we still should,’ she said. ‘Maybe it’s not too late. We need to get back there anyway. I’ve decided I’m going to call the police. We’re going to walk back there as if we’re just having an evening stroll, then I’m going to “notice” that the ice house door’s open, go and investigate, scream, alert night security, et cetera, et cetera.’

‘What if they look at the CCTV recordings from earlier and see that you went in together, but you came out alone?’ Pete asked, doubtfully.