The house was as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside. The cosy atmosphere created by the English rose garden and the maroon wrap-around veranda, with its hordes of potted succulents, creepers and elephant ears, was continued in the house, which was filled with overflowing bookshelves, overstuffed sofas and overused throws and rugs. This was a house that had been made into a home because every room was lived in and loved. It was difficult to believe that Marion Hartley, after being widowed, had lived here alone. There was a comfortable and almost well-worn quality to everything. And then Spokes realised that perhaps the home’s easy embrace was the result of Marion Hartley having kept the house exactly as it was when her husband died.

‘I cannot cook a thing to save my life,’ Marion Hartley said. ‘Have actually been known to burn a salad on occasion, and the workers have gone home for the holidays, but I believe I can just about manage a cup of tea or coffee. On the other hand, I am rather good at pouring a drink if you would prefer something stronger.’ The last offering was suggested with a glance at Kuki Coetzee.

‘Nothing for me, thank you,’ Kuki Coetzee said in a clipped way as she took a seat on the sofa that was furthest from where Marion Hartley stood. Spokes watched as Kuki Coetzee valiantly fought off the plush and pliant sofa’s attempts to engulf her.

Marion Hartley’s eyes turned to Spokes. ‘Nothing for me either, thank you,’ he said, taking a seat in an armchair that immediately encouraged him to sit back and relax in its luxurious lushness.

‘Are you sure I cannot tempt you?’ Marion Hartley said, and it was obvious from the easy way the words tripped off her tongue that she had said them often, that she was used to being the accommodating hostess.

‘Unlike my husband, I’m afraid you’ll find me not so easily tempted,’ Kuki Coetzee said as she sat upright on the sofa and continued to rebuff its inclination to draw her in. She reddened, probably angered less by the words themselves than by the emotion they betrayed.

In response, Marion Hartley’s eyes merely smiled as she turned them towards Spokes. She was a woman who absolutely refused to be ashamed of the choices she had made in her life.

‘Not while on duty,’ Spokes said with a shake of his head.

‘Then, if you both don’t mind, I’ll go ahead and pour myself something stiff and probably a little sinful,’ Marion Hartley said with a full smile.