‘All the ones in the Sainsbury’s bags, apparently,’ he said.

Emma held the door open for him and he stooped to pick up the first few bags. Outside, the car behind his van hooted again.

‘Here, let me help,’ she said. She grabbed another couple of bags and followed him out to the van. He was grateful and dealt with the driver behind calmly, gesturing that he’d be a few minutes. Then he turned to Emma and said, ‘What a plonker,’ under his breath. She smiled and went back in for the last few bags.

As she was putting them into the van, she managed to get her cardigan caught on something. She couldn’t reach the catch. He leant over to try and help her free herself, gently tugging at her cardigan. He smelt of something musky but pleasant.

‘Oh, sorry,’ he said, only making things worse. The thread had come loose.

‘Don’t worry!’

The car behind revved its engine provocatively. He gestured politely and smiled at the driver. ‘Take your time . . . wind the idiot up,’ he said, his blue eyes twinkling at her. Emma smiled, freed herself from her cardigan and tried to unhook the catch but she was too close; she needed her glasses. He stood there patiently as she unhooked herself at last, then he slammed the van doors shut and thanked her for helping him.

She went back into the house and closed the door. What a nice guy. Some people just had a way of making you feel better than you felt before you saw them. The hall looked much better empty. She returned to the sitting room, where Mr. de Cadenet was sitting in exactly the same position that she had left him in, only his whisky glass was empty. He seemed lost in his own world and for a split second he didn’t appear to recognize her as she sat down next to him.

‘Has Karl gone already?’ he asked.

‘That was Karl?’ She could hear the van pulling away. She drew the curtain back and looked out into the street. She wished she’d taken more in, introduced herself. She wanted to talk with him. You’ll think he’s fantastic, he’ll make sure of that.

She should get on with the business she came here for. ‘Mr. de Cadenet, I was wondering whether it might help if you came to visit Connie?’

He sighed and clasped his hands together.

‘At the Tatchwell,’ she added.

‘No . . . I couldn’t do that . . . no.’

‘She’d love to see you . . .’

He shook his head. ‘No.’

‘Would Mrs. de Cadenet consider it? Connie misses her dreadfully. I could pick her up and bring her back if that was easiest?’

Slowly he turned to face Emma; he seemed confused. ‘Mrs. de Cadenet?’

‘Yes. Connie is desperate to see her.’

‘Julia is dead,’ he said.