Judith didn’t say anything, and nor did her countenance shift by even a millimetre. Her whole demeanour was a study in middle-class decorum.

‘That’s the real reason why you started collecting all those old newspapers,’ Suzie continued. ‘You had to be sure no one came forward with the truth of what happened that day, because you were on that boat. And maybe in the storm your husband fell overboard and you didn’t help him back up. Or maybe you pushed him, which is what my money’s on, knowing you. And I mean that as a compliment. You had an abusive and adulterous husband, so you killed him. And then, once he was in the water, you sailed back to shore, got onto land, and then released his boat to be blown back out to sea.’

‘Is that true?’ Becks asked, so horrified at what she was hearing that she didn’t notice a strawberry roll off her plate.

Judith didn’t answer immediately.

She looked about herself. At the sunlight sparkling on the water, at the cows cropping the grass in the field, and a feeling of contentment overtook her that was almost startling. Suzie had been right when she’d said she could trust her two friends with her life.

She leant forward with a little smile.

‘I couldn’t possibly comment,’ she said, but there was a twinkle in her eye that made it clear that she was indeed commenting. ‘Now then, who’d like a glass of champagne?’

Acknowledgements

Thanks to my editor Finn Cotton, whose enthusiasm, understanding of story, and laser-like attention to detail has made this book so much better than it would otherwise have been. Thanks also to Dominic Wakeford, who I first shared this story with, and also to Anne O’Brien for her diligence during the copy-editing process. When I emailed her the manuscript, I was convinced there were no issues with the timeline. I was wrong. Very, very wrong. She fixed what was fixable; all of the other mistakes are mine.

Thanks also to my literary agent Ed Wilson and all the team at Johnson & Alcock. Ed was the first person I pitched the idea for this book to during a very enjoyable lunch in Marlow, and his immediate enthusiasm was something I clung to during the long months of writing. I’d also like to thank my film and TV agent, Charlotte Knight, and all her team at the Knight Hall Agency. Charlotte’s instincts for what makes a good story are unparalleled, and her wise counsel and friendship over the years has kept me on the straight and narrow, or at least when cocktails aren’t involved.

I must also thank the retired Police Officer Rebecca Bradley. She explained to me how a Detective Sergeant could end up leading a murder inquiry, and therefore gave me the fig leaf I needed to keep Tanika centre stage. I should add that all of the other police procedural inaccuracies in the novel are very much my own. Similarly, I owe a debt of gratitude to Aaron Neil, who quite brilliantly, and slowly enough so I could take notes, described the intricacies of a Muslim funeral to me.