I pretended to think. ‘We did have a few dropped calls, that sort of thing. I thought someone was casing the place – but we have such a good alarm system, I wasn’t overly worried.’

‘Very wise.’ They exchanged another little look, and my stomach dropped away like on a rollercoaster you think is over, only to find there’s one more loop. How stupid I’d been, how arrogant, to dismiss them as plods. They knew something. Of course they did. This was more than just routine. ‘Mrs Thomas, our system cross-references names automatically on our databases. We couldn’t help but notice that, earlier this year, there was an allegation made against you. That you committed a crime.’

‘What?’ I had started to rise from the sofa, and now collapsed back into it, winded by fear.

‘A car break-in, in East London.’ Oh my Holy God. ‘The victim gave your name as a possible suspect. A Damian Henderson.’

I gaped at them in what they hopefully saw was genuine outrage. ‘Damian!’

‘You know him?’

‘We worked together. I knew about the break-in – but I – I was living down here already when that happened! It’s madness!’

‘That’s what the police thought, hence they never followed it up. Can you think of any reason he’d accuse you, Mrs Thomas?’ The woman met my eyes calmly over her notebook. They knew. They must have guessed why he would say something like that, what kind of person I was.

‘I . . .’ Oh God, be careful, Suzi. ‘We didn’t part on the best of terms, is all. But I haven’t seen him since, not for months.’ That was a lie. I was lying without even meaning to. Shit.

Another look between them. I almost envied that, the ability to communicate without saying anything, to be that in sync with someone. I’d had that with you for a while, or at least I’d thought I had. Not like Nick and I. Our conversations had run dry long ago, and when we went out for a meal both of us would leap on our phones, after we’d agreed not to have them out. I felt your loss in so many small ways.

‘Alright, thank you for your help.’

Was it over? Had they any more nasty shocks in store?

‘I hope you find out what happened,’ I said, ushering them to the door. ‘His poor wife, what a terrible thing to happen.’

They were out the door and at their car when I realised, with a sickening plunge of the stomach, that they hadn’t mentioned a wife.

Rage was coursing in my veins. Fucking Damian, telling the police that! As if I would bash up his poxy car!