‘Who knows? Don’t even know if he’s even got a mother, looks now like he made everything up. I mean, he must’ve been from Australia, but Ross at the Old Chain Pier said he was from Tasmania, not Melbourne.’ She stretched over to the bottle and topped their glasses up. ‘I feel humiliated, M, embarrassed. I mean, who was he really? What else was he hiding from me? From us?’

‘God, yeah, both of you. How’s Jamie coping?’

Fiona shrugged. ‘Good, kids are amazing, they just get on with it. And it’s been brilliant having Mum and Dad around. I mean, if I didn’t have them, where would I be?’

‘Not in the palatial splendour of Magdalen Yard road,’ said Martha, smiling.

‘It always amazes me when I think about Dad’s family owning that house for years. It looks so grand from the outside, but, well, you know what it’s like inside – a tip!’

‘I love the chaos. I used to think it was great, staying at your house with things all over the place. My mum’s verging on the OCD, I’m sure of it. It was such a welcome contrast!’

‘Anyway, one more thing about Pete then I’ll shut up and you tell me about you two lovebirds.’

‘Yeah, but wait a minute, let’s go back to that woman’s phone call. So she hung up, no name, nothing. Could Doug not have tracked the call?’

‘Too late, another call came in.’

‘What about ringing the journalist who wrote the review? See if they’d had any calls at The Scotsman? Presume she was up at Glenisla recently?’

‘Well, a couple of months ago. Yeah, could try that I suppose.’ Fiona took a deep breath. ‘So here’s the final thing.’

She turned to face Martha and told her about the direct debits on Pete’s old bank statements.

‘But they were ages ago when you just moved to Glenisla?’

‘Yeah, and he went online after that so I’ve no idea if he carried on with that direct debit every month. And why bloody Swansea?’

‘We could always go to Swansea for a visit? Scour around for anyone with an Aussie accent?’

Fiona grinned. ‘Better things to do with my weekends, M.’

‘Yeah. I mean, Swansea. Doesn’t sound like a happening place.’ Martha pulled out her water bottle from her bag. ‘I’ve got to sober up, I’ve just remembered I’m up really early tomorrow, got a meeting first thing in Perth. I hate driving there, I can never get parked anywhere near the museum.’

‘Hang on.’ Fiona was frowning. She raised a finger. ‘Perth. There’s one here, just along the A90, and one in Australia. What are the chances of…’

‘Onto it,’ said Martha, sitting up straight and delving into her bag again She took out her phone and started tapping.