‘So, for the next few weeks I hung around their street in Southville when I could. I saw Clive help Deirdre move to her cottage in Tilby and took that opportunity to knock on their Southville neighbours’ doors and ask questions. They said they’d seen Clive out and about very occasionally with a dark-haired girl younger than him. And, no, they didn’t know her name. I became convinced it was Flora. I thought maybe she’d run off with him, but it didn’t make sense to me. I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t have contacted us to let us know she was okay.

‘Then – a few days before the shootings – I found out that Clive was staying with his mum in Tilby. Getting away from all the people he owed money to, was the rumour going around. I think moving to Tilby was a way for them to have a stab at pretending to be respectable. So I took that opportunity to knock at the house in Southville, hoping Flora would answer. But, of course, there was nothing. Then I sneaked around the back. They have a basement with a grubby-looking window that looks out onto the garden. I was sure I saw a shadow move beyond the glass. But when I knocked nobody answered.’

‘You should have called the police then,’ says Ruthgow.

‘With what evidence? You wouldn’t have believed me. Adam didn’t.’ Heather hangs her head. ‘I told him, the night before the shootings. He was already stressed and angry with Clive because of the puppy and losing money to him – money we could ill afford.’

Until now Margot wasn’t aware of any money issues. But she keeps quiet, willing Heather to continue.

‘He thought I was being delusional, that my post-natal depression had returned. He said I was obsessive. He didn’t even listen to me. We rowed and he walked out, taking Ethan with him.’

Margot shuffles in her chair. Why hadn’t Adam told her the truth about the row?

‘So … after the row with Adam, and on the morning of the shootings I couldn’t sleep and woke up early. I thought I’d go to Clive’s Bristol house again, hoping he was still in Tilby with his mum.’ She sighs. ‘I left here early and drove there while it was still dark, but of course nobody answered when I got there. So I went around the back again. I was sure I could see movement behind the window, like before. A shadow. I knew somebody was there.’

‘You could have been hurt,’ says Ruthgow.

‘It was stupid. And reckless. I was desperate. But I called Flora’s name. I banged on the glass and called her name until someone came to the window.’