Anne leads them into a small, dark hallway decorated with mostly watercolour landscape paintings and, taking their coats, hangs them on an old-fashioned coat stand. They follow the dog into a cosy kitchen, furnished with framed photographs and a child’s faded crayon drawings in what were once bright primary colours. On a large, scrubbed pine kitchen table sits a plate of cold meat and a bowl of salad. Beside it in a cooler sits a bottle of white wine and a small vase of hyacinths.

‘Please, take a seat.’ Alex waits for Honor to sit then takes the chair beside her. Anne remains standing beside them.

‘First time this year isn’t it?’ says Alex, putting a distance between himself and his ex, for Honor’s benefit, she suspects. ‘How are you doing?’

‘Well.’

‘And how’s that son of ours? He doesn’t Zoom or whatever you call it nearly enough for my liking.’

‘Well, you know Tim,’ Anne says and, with exquisite manners, turns to Honor and goes on, ‘Alex tells me you have a daughter.’

‘Yes. Adopted daughter.’

‘And… she’s studying at Avon, am I right?’

Honor feels herself redden. ‘Oh, I see Alex has filled you in.’

There’s a pause until with a flourish of her hand across the table Anne says, ‘It’s only ham and a bit of salad, I’m afraid. The bread’s good though and I’ve made some broccoli soup. Help yourself to a glass of wine.’ Turning, she makes her way to the stove. While she busies herself at the stove Alex raises the bottle and on Honor’s signal pours her a small glass and a larger one for himself and for the next few minutes Honor and Alex sit in solemn silence at opposite ends of the kitchen table, Alex fondling the ears of the red dog, both conscious, Honor is sure, of what was said in the car only a few moments ago.

Anne brings three bowls of green soup to the table, distributes them in front of each of their places and pulls up a chair. The conversation turns to Bristol, then to Bath and to other local matters. Chit-chat. When the plates are finished, Anne rises once more and brings out of the fridge a large bowl of berries and a jug of cream and, coming to the table, says, ‘Alex mentioned that you’re interested in the copycat suicides at Midland?’