Once she’d got her breathing back under control, Judith found the light switch to the room and turned it on. Wall lights in sconces lit up and Judith whistled under her breath in quiet wonder. The burgundy walls were covered in dozens of paintings in golden frames, all hung with gallery precision. The pictures were mostly modern, but there was also a fair smattering of older oil paintings.

Judith shuddered involuntarily, her body continuing to expel tension as she tried to feel the bones in her right wrist. It didn’t appear that anything was broken, and already some feeling was coming back to her hand. She’d be all right. But what should she do now?

She heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. A few seconds later, DS Malik ran into the room.

‘Mrs Potts, are you okay?’ she asked.

‘I think so,’ Judith said feeling bashful.

DS Malik could see that Judith was holding her right wrist with her left hand.

‘Have you hurt yourself?’ she asked as she went over to the older woman.

‘Just took a bit of a tumble. That’s all.’

‘Are you sure? Let me look at that.’

DS Malik checked over Judith’s wrist, asked her to wriggle her fingers, and even though she said there probably wasn’t any major damage, Judith should still get it checked out at the Minor Injuries Unit in High Wycombe in the morning.

‘Now, are you up to telling me what happened? Or do you want me to get you home, and we can do this in the morning?’

For once, Judith wasn’t offended by DS Malik’s concern.

‘Don’t worry about me,’ Judith said. ‘I’ll be okay.’

There was the sound of another car arriving outside, and both women looked at the door as they heard a person approach.

Becks entered in a rush.

‘Judith, are you okay? What happened?’

‘I’m fine. Don’t worry.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Quite sure.’

‘You’re sure you’re sure?’

‘Honestly, I’m fine.’

‘I’ve been worried sick. I called the police, but you were punting across the river, that’s the last I saw of you. Are you sure you’re okay?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Well, thank heavens for that. And you’re sure you’re okay?’

Recognising that Becks had got stuck in a loop of panic, DS Malik decided to cut in.

‘It’s Mrs Starling, isn’t it?’ DS Malik said.

Becks looked over and saw the policewoman for the first time.

‘Oh hello!’ she said, delight in her voice. ‘You’re Shanti’s mum, aren’t you?’

DS Malik smiled warmly.

‘I am. You’ve got a trumpeter, haven’t you?’

‘I do,’ Becks said proudly. ‘Although Sam’s threatening to give it up. He’s reached that age.’

Judith looked from one woman to the other as though they were speaking a foreign language, which, in many respects, they were.