Some fifteen minutes later, Gary pushed his chair back. ‘All I’ve come up with is a mention of an Andrea Becker doing the refreshments for a fun run, and that’s three years ago. Apart from that, nothing. Not even a speeding ticket.’

Kevin grinned. ‘Then we should hit the road. It’ll be like old times, won’t it? Nothing like a good old house-to-house.’

* * *

Half an hour later they were sitting in Lizzie Coupland’s lounge drinking tea and eating home-made lemon drizzle cake. In her Black Sabbath T-shirt and ripped jeans, Lizzie certainly didn’t resemble the perfect little housewife, but she made exceedingly good cake.

She sat opposite them, Iron Maiden mug in her hand, frowning. ‘Andrea? Andrea Becker, you say?’ She sipped the tea thoughtfully. ‘Oh, I know who you mean — Andi! I never knew her surname. She was married to a lorry driver who was away a lot. I think his name was Felix. Good-looking man — German, I believe. He had lovely manners and very good English.’

‘Can you tell us which house she lived in, Lizzie?’ asked Gary.

‘I’m not sure of the number but I can show you. It was near the bottom of the road on the right-hand side. More cake?’

‘I daren’t, thank you!’ Kevin said. ‘But it was delicious.’

Gary also refused, rather wistfully. ‘Did you know her well, Lizzie?’ he asked.

‘No, not really,’ she said. ‘She was a funny bundle, as my mum would have said. Not my sort. A touch of kippers and curtains, I reckoned.’ She smiled. ‘All airs and graces — another of my mother’s sayings. It means people who like you to think they’re better than they really are. And this is pure gossip, so don’t hold me to it, but we were all pretty sure she had another man on the go when hubby was away. I can’t be doing with that. We make our choices and it’s down to us to make the best of them. Take my Eric. He’s certainly no oil painting, but he’s got the heart of a blue whale. He has his faults, but don’t we all?’

Kevin smiled. ‘A “funny bundle.” My gran used to say that too. But in what way was Andrea one?’

‘Secretive. She was very secretive, and she always seemed to think you had a bad motive for everything you said. Like, I’d ask where Felix had gone off to. I knew he went on long trips, so I was just asking where he’d gone. You know, being polite, neighbourly. Well, Andi would give you a look that said, “Why do you want to know that?” In other words, “Mind your own business.” On the surface she seemed like everybody’s friend, but I got the feeling that there was a very different woman underneath. I gave up in the end.’