For the first time that day, Rose’s face brightened with something resembling her old, charming smile. ‘Oh wonderful! Mac, you can have Luke’s room, and Clara can have Emi— the spare room.’

After a pause Clara turned to Oliver and asked as casually as she could, ‘Have you heard from Tom recently?’

He shook his head. ‘No. Not for a few days actually, though that’s not unusual. Why do you ask?’

She looked away. ‘Oh, no reason.’

He nodded absently and the moment passed, but she wondered what Anderson’s enquiries were leading to, whether her suspicions would be proven correct. It was almost too terrible to think about, that it could be Tom who was behind everything, that the person responsible had been among them all along.

The evening passed slowly. They sat down together for a meal – a half-hearted affair of sausages and mash – and though Clara and Mac did their best to make conversation, the strange, stiff atmosphere between Rose and Oliver remained. There was a sense of waiting, of impending doom, and they were both relieved when Rose took herself off to bed early, Oliver padding up not far behind her.

Clara and Mac took their drinks into the living room. ‘My God,’ Clara said, flopping on to the sofa. ‘I had no idea they were in such a bad way.’ She shook her head miserably. ‘I feel so sorry for them both.’

‘I know,’ Mac nodded grimly, taking the armchair opposite her. ‘They look terrible. Do you think they’re even eating properly? Maybe we should try to get them some help, contact their GP or something …’

Wearily she rubbed her eyes. ‘I can’t stop thinking about Tom. I wonder where he is, whether the police have talked to him yet. I tried to call Anderson earlier but he didn’t pick up.’

‘Do you really think he’s involved?’ Mac asked her doubtfully. ‘It seems so …’

‘Yes,’ she said emphatically. ‘I do.’

There was silence for a while, both of them lost in their own thoughts. A fire Oliver had lit earlier crackled in the grate, an unwelcome reminder of what had happened at her flat only three nights before. Even Clemmy seemed on edge tonight, restlessly pacing the room, ears pricked as if alert to something they couldn’t hear.

Finally, Mac asked cautiously, ‘How are you feeling now about what Alison told you?’

She sighed. ‘To be honest, it just made me wonder what the hell else Luke was up to that I didn’t know about. Which reminds me,’ she added, getting to her feet again. ‘Remember that picture of the girl I found in Luke’s filing cabinet?’

‘Yeah. Any idea who she is yet?’

She shook her head. ‘No, but I haven’t had much chance to think about it. Hang on, I’ll see if I can find it.’