‘Olivia! I can’t believe you’re saying these things. You know I’ll miss her. I already do!’

‘She was always criticising you. She never stopped! She was driving you out of your mind.’

‘You’re wrong, dear. You’re quite wrong. It’s never easy … relationships, marriage! It’s a balancing act. There are ups and there are downs—’

‘She’s gone, Dad. She was a total cow and she ruined our lives. Neither of us has to pretend any more.’

Olivia went over to him and rested a hand on his arm, and in that brief moment I was aware of a real affection between them. What had it really been like living with Harriet all these years? The two of them were survivors.

Hawthorne was less impressed. ‘You don’t seem to have many fond memories of your mum,’ he observed.

‘You don’t need to answer any of his questions.’ Arthur put an arm around his daughter, protecting her. ‘These gentlemen were leaving anyway.’ He pointed a finger at me. ‘And you had no right to be here in the first place!’

Olivia glared at Hawthorne. ‘I’ll answer anything you like,’ she said, defiantly. ‘I’ve got nothing to hide.’

Hawthorne smiled. ‘So when was the last time you saw her?’

‘We came home in a taxi from the theatre.’ She glanced at me. ‘She really hated your play, by the way. She finished writing her review when we were in the Savoy and I could tell she was ripping into it from the way she typed.’ She turned back to Hawthorne. ‘I didn’t see her the next morning. I had to be at work by nine.’

‘Where do you work?’

‘Near Paddington Station. I’ve got a job at Starbucks.’

‘And you were there until when?’

‘Until the middle of the afternoon. Three o’clock.’

‘How far is the Starbucks from here?’

‘Five minutes.’

‘Ten minutes there and back.’ Hawthorne looked at her, the obvious question hanging in the air.

‘You think I popped home and killed Mum?’ Olivia smiled unpleasantly. ‘I couldn’t leave work. Someone would have seen me. And anyway, I know exactly what you’re doing. You’re only accusing me because you know who really did it.’

‘And who was that?’ Hawthorne asked.

‘Him!’

Him? I glanced left and right, but there could be no avoiding it. She meant me!

‘What are you talking about …?’ I began.

‘You threatened her!’

‘That’s nonsense. That’s absolutely untrue.’ I could feel the blood draining from my face. Or possibly rushing into it. ‘We chatted at the party in the Turkish restaurant. That was all. I didn’t say anything!’

‘You asked her what she thought of your play.’

‘Well, yes …’

‘It was the way you asked her. She felt threatened by you. She said so on the way home.’

‘It was a reasonable question!’

‘She didn’t think so. You frightened her!’

‘Did she say that?’ Hawthorne asked.

‘She didn’t need to. I could tell just by looking at her.’

‘I think you should leave,’ Arthur said, again.