Will had been at home when Tony Costello called; making an espresso for his girlfriend, Saoirse. Saoirse worked in publishing – that was how they’d met – and mostly she commuted to an office on the other side of London. The previous day, though, she had come down with what felt like the flu, and had decided to work from home. Normally Will would have been able to go away without having to answer any questions, but because Saoirse was there, in the apartment, he had to tell her that he was packing because he was going back to Severn Sands.

‘Why?’ she asked croakily, clutching a handkerchief to her nose as he stuffed his laptop charger into a side pocket of the rucksack. ‘What’s the point in going back? You can’t do anything.’

‘I need to be there, where it happened, so that I can write about it.’

‘Why can’t you write here?’

‘Because it wouldn’t be authentic.’

Saoirse looked at him doubtfully. The rims of her nostrils were pink.

‘I owe it to Alice to be there,’ said Will.

‘You owe it to Alice?’

‘Yes.’

Saoirse bit her lip, literally, to stop herself saying something unkind about Alice. She, like Will’s other girlfriends before her, believed Will should put Alice behind him and move on, but given the unfurling tragedy she could hardly say anything snarky. Instead she stared at Will in a sorrowful way. She didn’t look great, to be fair, wan and watery-eyed. The coffee steamed on the window ledge. Will knew it would never be drunk. It was one of the annoying things about Saoirse: she was always making drinks, or asking for drinks, and then not drinking them. He was forever pouring half-cups of cold coffee into the sink.

‘Alice isn’t the real reason you’re going away. You want to get away from me, don’t you, Will?’ she said.

‘What?’

‘You’re going to do what you always do when things get tough; you’re going to walk away rather than deal with it.’

‘Jesus, Saoirse, this has nothing to do with you.’

‘I know things have been difficult lately but…’

‘Saoirse…’

‘… every couple has ups and downs. Why don’t you stay and we can talk and try and work things out, find a way forward.’

‘Saoirse, please! How can you even say that? Alice is dead!’

There were a few moments’ silence. He heard the wheezing in her lungs. He continued packing, shoving things into the rucksack.

She tried a different tack. ‘What if I get really ill?’

‘You have a phone. Ciara and Finn are ten minutes away.’

‘I can’t believe you’d leave me when I’m like this.’

‘You’ll be OK,’ said Will.