‘What a lovely idea,’ Becks said with a sincerity that was entirely false, ‘but I’ll drop you off and head home if that’s okay. It’s late.’

‘Nonsense! You’ve had a shock. We both have. You’re coming in for a stiff drink.’

‘Colin needs me at home.’

‘Why?’ Judith asked bluntly.

‘Well, he works so hard during the day—’

‘As I’m sure you do,’ Judith said, interrupting. ‘Has he rung you?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t think so.’

‘So we can assume he’s fine.’

‘Even so,’ Becks said, trying to articulate why it was so important that she be at home for her husband. It was something to do with the fact that, since she didn’t work outside the home, she felt a sense of duty to be there for Colin. And something to do with a sense of guilt that she didn’t have a ‘proper’ career, so she had to be the best, most perfect, housewife, in order to feel a sense of worth. It was also, she knew, at a far more humdrum level, simply a habit she’d got into. But how could she even begin to put these half thoughts into words?

‘… he needs me,’ she eventually offered.

‘You have needs as well,’ Judith said as Becks drove up to Judith’s house and parked by the front door.

There was a grey van outside the house that hadn’t been there before.

As they got out of the vehicle, Judith saw the dog walker Suzie Harris looking in through a downstairs window.

‘Excuse me?’ Judith asked in her most matronly voice.

‘Oh, there you are!’ Suzie said, entirely unfazed at having been caught snooping. ‘Just trying to see in through your windows.’

‘What on earth are you doing here?’

‘No, good question,’ she agreed.

Judith waited and realised that Suzie had come to one of her halts.

‘And the answer is …?’

‘Oh, right! Well, I’ve got a favour to ask. About Iqbal. And I was taking Emma for a late-night walk anyway, so I thought I’d knock on your door. See if you were in.’

‘And when I wasn’t?’

‘I thought I’d look in through your window. It’s like I told you, I’ve always wanted to see inside your house.’

Suzie was being so very matter-of-fact about her motives that Judith couldn’t help herself and laughed, all offence forgotten.

‘Who’s Iqbal?’ Becks asked.

‘Sorry,’ Judith said, turning to include Becks. ‘I should introduce you both. Becks, this is Suzie Harris.’

‘I’m actually Rebecca,’ Becks said, offering her hand. ‘Although no one calls me that apart from my mother.’

‘Look, why don’t you both come in?’ Judith said. ‘It’s been a long day, and I could do with taking the weight off my feet.’

‘I can have a look inside?’ Suzie asked.

Judith smiled. ‘Yes, you can come inside.’