Pete remembered Meredith telling him that Leonard had been wearing out shoe leather in the corridors of Minstead House for almost three decades. He recalled the conversation because he never understood how anyone would want to work nights for more than a couple of weeks, let alone over half his lifetime. Thirty years! Even the thought made him want to punch a wall. But then, now he was meeting the man and seeing the look of placid acceptance in his baggy eyes, it made more sense.

‘Evening, Leonard. Nice to meet you.’

‘I can’t believe you two haven’t met before!’ chirped Meredith as if they were all at a cocktail party.

‘Pleased to meet you,’ Leonard said, tipping his cap to Pete, who bared his teeth back at him.

‘Just going for a stroll. Such a lovely evening.’ Pete put his arm around Meredith.

‘Aah, that’s sweet. I hated me sister, personally. She used to give me wedgies and Chinese burns.’

‘Meredith wouldn’t do that,’ Pete said, squeezing her arm. ‘Not unless provoked. Well, nice to meet you, Leonard. Have a good night.’

‘Night, Leonard,’ Meredith added.

It was only when Leonard had waddled off back in the direction of the house that Pete realised Meredith was shaking. She had to lean against him to keep herself upright.

‘I need to sit down,’ she whispered.

‘Stay cool, Mez. You’re doing great.’ Pete took her hand again. ‘It’s good that he saw us. Where is this ice house, then?’

‘Just here, behind these bushes,’ Meredith said, as they reached a bank of flowering rhododendrons.

As they rounded the corner she added, loudly and brightly, presumably in case anybody was in the vicinity to overhear, ‘Oh look! Someone’s left the door unlocked.’

This was crazy, Pete thought. She was acting like she’d killed Ralph. She shouldn’t just ring the police and say she’d found him; she should tell them everything. Be honest.

He was about to tell her this, but she spoke first.

‘I will never forgive myself,’ she said, her voice cracking.

‘Mez. Stop it. It’s not helping.’

‘I slept with my friend’s husband.’

Pete turned and grabbed her hands. He’d already changed his mind about persuading her to ring the police. She was right, it was too risky.

‘Listen to me. We’ve all done stuff we know we shouldn’t have. Don’t beat yourself up about it – at least, not right now. If you want to keep your job, your reputation, and not have Paula hating you forever, you have to stop this. She’s going to need you. Be there for her – that’ll help make it up to her, even if she doesn’t know it.’

‘But that’s even more hypocritical!’ she wailed.

Pete shook her shoulders gently. ‘It’s not about you now. Your friend’s husband’s died. She needs you.’