Allison threw DS Long a final withering glare before answering. ‘I’ll ring my friend, Portia; she doesn’t live far away.’

‘Good.’ The detective got to his feet. ‘A police liaison officer will be in touch with you tomorrow to organise the visit to identify your husband. They’ll be your point of contact throughout the investigation.’ He stood looking down at her. ‘I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs Fellowes.’

She shut her eyes, rested her head back and listened to the sounds of their departure. Their footsteps on the wooden floor of the hall, the opening and shutting of the front door, the faint squeak of the gate, the unnecessarily loud crash as they banged it shut after them. Normal everyday sounds in her suddenly strange, alien world.

Tears squeezed from between her eyelids. They trickled down her cheeks, silent, unstoppable, liquid sadness. When she opened her eyes, the day had drifted into night, the day her husband had died already almost over. She reached for her phone and scrolled through for her friend’s number.

It rang several times before being answered. ‘Allison? For goodness’ sake, what’re you doing ringing so late?’ Murmurs in the background combined with loud rustling before the sounds faded.

‘Portia?’

‘Hang on, I’m taking you into the spare room.’ She didn’t hide her irritation. ‘Hopefully Stuart will go back to sleep otherwise he’ll be unbearable tomorrow.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Yes, well, I’m assuming it’s something important.’

‘Something life or death, you mean?’

‘Well, that’s maybe a little overly dramatic. Let’s say something important enough to wake us at almost midnight.’

Almost midnight. Soon Peter would have died yesterday, time marching on regardless of his loss. ‘Death.’

‘What did you say?’ Portia’s voice was crisp with irritation. ‘Have you been drinking?’

‘Portia, can you come over?’

‘Now?’ The voice jumped an octave in surprise. ‘Allison, are you okay? Have you and Peter had a row?’

‘Worse.’ Saying the words, didn’t that make it real? ‘Peter is dead.’ The silence that followed her stark announcement was broken by her friend’s loud, nervous laugh.

‘That’s not funny, Allison.’ The indrawn breath was loud. ‘Hell, you’re serious! What happened? No, wait, don’t tell me, I’ll get a taxi and be over as soon as it can get me there.’ She hung up without another word, leaving Allison with a dead phone pressed to her ear. There were other people she should ring. Peter’s friends. A cousin in Essex. The phone was still pressed to her cheek, tears running down the edge. She pulled it away, wiped it on her sleeve and dropped it on the sofa. Phoning family and friends could wait till the morning.