He stalks off before I’ve had a chance to reply and everyone lets out a collective breath when Ted is safely back in his ‘office’. Jack widens his eyes over Seth’s head with a ‘What’s his problem?’ gesture.

I bash out the five hundred words that Ted wants, keeping it as simple as I can, so that Margot doesn’t find it offensive. I hesitate over revealing what Margot said about Heather not being able to remember. I was at the hospital as a friend on Friday night, not as a journalist, and it doesn’t sit right with me that I’m somehow betraying the family by writing this.

But what choice do I have? I need this job.

I breathe in the salty sea air, the stress of the past few days slowly ebbing away from me. Shackleton Road and the house where Clive and Deirdre were murdered are directly behind me. I’m standing where eye-witnesses say Heather parked, next to the wall overlooking the beach. The beach where we’d sometimes hang out, when we could be bothered to make the fifteen-minute walk. Tilby is hilly, and the town centre a good hike from the beach. You have to walk up some very steep cobbled streets to get to the shops. It was always fun to walk down, but walking back up the steep hill was a different matter. If we had the money we’d get the bus.

The tide is out today and the sand spreads before me, new and unmarked, like freshly rolled pastry. The boats in the harbour are marooned and it’s funny to see them beached. When the tide is in, though, the water reaches right up to this wall.

I’ve managed to get hold of Leo. He was surprised to hear from me. He lives in Bristol now, and has agreed to meet me after work at a café in Park Street. I feel apprehensive at the thought of seeing him again, especially as I kept it from him that I’m now a reporter. He thinks I’m only interested in catching up.

Jack is standing beside me, looking thoughtfully out to sea, a hint of a smile on his face.

‘It’s not exactly Brighton, is it?’ I laugh. Jack has been in a strange mood today. He’s quieter than normal and a lot of my banter has gone straight over his head.

He shrugs. ‘I’d like to live here.’

‘Really?’ It’s not a particularly sophisticated or happening place. The town is mostly full of chains or pound shops, the only arcade further up the hill. And, driving along the high street to get to the beach, it doesn’t look like it’s changed much. ‘I lived on the other side of town. No sea views for me.’

He laughs. ‘Still. A beach on your doorstep is a good thing.’