I was thinking that their staff might welcome a break or several from them when my mother said “I expect Roy will be grateful for what’s coming to him.”

I knew she would interpret any demurral as ingratitude on his behalf, and so I said only “He’s staying with me at the moment. If you two want to come and see him I’ll make dinner.”

“He won’t be with you just now.”

I took this for a question. “He’s with a lady friend in Liverpool.”

“Perhaps you should keep an eye on them, Patrick.”

“I don’t know why you’d say that. She’s rather more desirable than some of the friends he’s been hanging round with. Desirable as in good for him, I mean.”

“I’ve reason to believe they aren’t in Liverpool.”

“What reason could—” I interrupted myself with a wry laugh. “They’ve come to visit you, have they? You’ve been teasing all the time.”

“I wish I were. I haven’t seen Roy and I’ve never seen her.”

“Then why would you say what you said?”

“I’ve just had a lady on the phone about them.”

“You have. She phoned you.” When my incredulity failed to change the situation I demanded “Which lady about what?”

“She lives opposite where Thelma fell.”

“The woman in the cottage. I met her when Roy and I had a look at the place.” Of the several questions clamouring for answers, the first to emerge was “Why on earth would she contact you?”

“She looked for Turnbill and found Turnbill and Semple, and the switchboard put her through to me. Would you rather we had no idea what Roy was up to?”

“Since you have, I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know.”

“You should speak to Miss Derrison yourself. I didn’t give her your number, but I said I’d do my best to put you in touch.”

“Let me have hers and I will right now.”

My mother enunciated the digits at a speed with which she might have favoured a trainee secretary, and then she said “I hope Roy isn’t getting obsessed with Thelma. It can’t be healthy at his age.”

“It didn’t harm me when I was.”

“I wish we’d known you were obsessed. We’d have intervened sooner.”

“Not obsessed, just intrigued, and I’m sure that’s all Roy is.”

In fact I was by no means certain. Why had he returned to Stonefield? I promised to see my parents soon and keyed the Stonefield number. It hesitated for some seconds before ringing and then found a rhythm that put me in mind of somebody plodding to retrieve the phone, unless it was measuring their search for it. I’d begun to expect a recorded message by the time a wearily impatient voice I seemed to recognise said “Who’s that?”

“Miss Derrison?”

“No.”