He didn’t try to catch up with the man in the forest or ask him if he knew anything about his boat or the fire. He didn’t trust himself not to do something stupid. It was the sound of the striking match that set him off, bringing back memories of the flames dancing down the towpath. Of course it wasn’t him – it would be too risky to hang around the next day, given the number of police in the area – but Jake is haunted by what he was told once, how arsonists like to return to the scene of their crime.

After finding the key and letting himself into the house, he gives Bex a call.

‘Does the mog need feeding?’ he asks. He stopped it coming in through the back door.

‘Not mine,’ Bex says. ‘Give it milk if you’re feeling soft.’

‘Just wanted to say thanks,’ Jake says, looking around the small kitchen. It’s not much bigger than the galley on his boat. And the oven clock is wrong. He’ll have to fix that. So many friends have oven clocks flashing the incorrect time. It’s almost a fulltime job resetting them.

‘No worries,’ she says. ‘You OK?’

‘Is Kate with you?’ he asks, ignoring her question. Her sudden kindness is unsettling. With one hand, he opens the fridge, pulls out a plastic bottle of milk and looks around the kitchen. He takes a bowl from the drying rack and pours some milk into it.

Bex pauses before she answers. ‘Not right now.’

‘But you’re with her in Cornwall,’ he says, putting the bowl on the floor. He opens the back door and lets the cat in.

‘I was going to tell you yesterday, at the station…’

He remembers their frosty encounter on the platform. ‘So that’s why you didn’t want to talk to me.’

‘I was in a rush.’

‘I’m not checking up on you. Or Kate. None of my business. It’s just that I spoke to her last night. We haven’t talked for months. And then you texted me this morning.’

‘Kate was worried,’ Bex says. ‘We both were.’

‘But Rob isn’t down there now?’

‘He comes and goes,’ she says. ‘Busy man. Works hard, does Rob.’

Jake ignores the barbed comment, the implication that he’s a slacker. ‘Where are you?’ he asks as the line crackles with wind.

‘Walking Kate’s daft dog on the coast path.’

‘I didn’t know she had one.’ A sudden sadness wells up in him. Kate always wanted a dog, but he was never keen. Too many friends’ cars smelling of wet fur. There’s so much about her new life that he doesn’t know.

‘It’s easy to miss him,’ Bex says.

‘Where’s Kate, then?’

‘She’s with the police. Her old boss DI Hart and a female colleague. Did you know they were coming down?’