‘A flat white.’ She pauses. And then she can’t resist. ‘Ever tried one?’

‘Sometimes. When I’m missing you.’ His turn to pause now. ‘It’s like I’m tasting you in my mouth.’

She blushes. And feels so foolish. He had that flat white at Paddington because he was missing her.

‘I had some flapjack too,’ she adds, overcome by a sudden welling-up of love for him. ‘I was famished, hadn’t had lunch.’

‘Were you sitting with anyone?’

‘Just the local village stud. We’re inseparable when you’re away.’

‘I’m serious.’

‘What’s this about, Rob?’ She’s irritated now. Must be another symptom of shock. ‘All these questions.’

He hesitates before speaking. ‘Have you seen the papers today?’

‘Not yet.’ His weekend Financial Times, delivered this morning, is still lying unread on the chair in the hallway, folded like crisp pink linen.

‘There’s been a big trial in Swindon. Modern slavery, people trafficking. The organised crime gang was sentenced yesterday.’

‘And?’ But she knows already what he’s going to say.

‘The judge said the original arrests were made on the basis of identifications by Wiltshire Police’s super-recogniser unit. Singled it out for special praise.’

‘Mention any names?’

‘No.’

That’s something, at least. Working on that case was addictive – and particularly draining. She knew that the trial would be coming up soon, but she’d put it out of her mind. Blanked it from her memory. That whole world is behind her now, part of another life.

She props herself up on one elbow and thinks about the man in the café, whose face was turned away from her. She feels a pang of unease. It was just cramp, nothing more.

‘There was a man sitting near me,’ she says slowly. ‘I didn’t see clearly who it was. I just thought he was someone on holiday.’

‘What did he look like?’

An image of the side of his face comes into focus. ‘Big forehead, dark, slanting eyebrows, receding hairline. Late forties, maybe early fifties.’

‘Familiar?’

‘I’m not sure.’

She always used to be so certain.

‘It doesn’t add up, Kate, that’s all I’m saying,’ Rob says.

‘How do you mean?’

‘You’re a strong swimmer. You’d had something to eat. And then all of a sudden you get cramp so badly you nearly drown.’

‘I’ve had cramp attacks before,’ she says. But they both know she’s never had one like that. She’s still in denial.

It’s a few seconds before he speaks again. ‘Did you leave your coffee unattended?’

Jesus. She starts to panic. Was she poisoned? Stretch senses her anxiety and tries to hop onto the bed. She scoops him up and holds him close to her chest. He was in a state when Mark from the gallery dropped him round a few minutes ago. And now it’s catching up with her.