The yoga teacher who’d taken the class the night Elspeth had been abducted was Darpana Chawla. Engaged in a final relaxation and meditation with her students, she was willowy and solemn-looking. Connie wished, in a rare moment of regret, that she could see the colours in the room. Darpana was wearing an eye-catching combination of sports Lycra with flowing scarves. Metallic fibres in the material glinted in the light as she waved her arms slowly in the air, hands wafting up and down. Inhale for three, exhale for three, Connie read her lips. Then the eyes of the class participants opened slowly, like some sprawling beast waking up and contemplating its existence. They stretched on their mats and brought themselves back into the moment. Some would be going home, others out to socialise, a few on to night shifts. For all of them, their slice of escapist exercise was over for the night.

Darpana was the last to leave, bidding farewell to each student in turn and by name. She was good at her job, Connie thought. People wanted an acknowledgement from her, or a kind word, an encouragement to attend the next class. A man called out before Connie could approach the teacher and explain herself. Darpana’s mouth opened fractionally, and her jaw flickered instantaneously sideways. She knew him by voice, and was stressed by his presence. Better to wait until she’d dealt with him before making a further demand on her time, Connie decided.

‘I asked you to meet me at home,’ Darpana told him as she rolled up her own mat and put a water bottle and wrist weights into a training bag.

He gave a lazy smile in response. ‘I thought we could get takeaway together,’ he said. ‘That vegan place you like around the corner is still open. I’m buying.’

She continued jamming items into her bag.

‘You sure it’s your stomach you were thinking about?’ Darpana sniped.

Connie had only seconds to decide to step up or step back. Darpana was in the middle of something private, and if she revealed herself it would be clear she’d overheard the conversation. Connie decided to remain in the space between overgrown yucca plants and a water dispenser. The yoga teacher had given a statement detailing the number of years she’d been Elspeth’s teacher. They’d become close acquaintances over the years – Darpana’s words – although that seemed more formal than was necessary for someone who saw you contort your body twice a week.

‘Don’t start,’ he groaned. ‘We agreed to put it behind us. That’s not why I’m here.’ He moved closer to her as she exited the studio. ‘You have to start trusting me again for this to work, otherwise we’re both wasting our time.’

‘I have to? Really? What if I can’t?’

‘Then this is over,’ he shrugged. ‘I can leave tonight if that’s what you want.’