“The police have a list of everyone who was in Okeham on the twenty-first of December. They also have your statement saying that you were in your house most of the day. They have statements from other witnesses, but I haven’t seen them yet. All we have at the moment is a police summary. I’ll get the rest later, well before the first court appearance.”

“The trial, you mean?”

“No. On the seventh of February you will be officially charged. That’s where you plead. You know, guilty or not guilty.”

“Isn’t there a chance they’ll realize that this is all wrong and let me go?”

Mora Piozzi gave a smile that didn’t look like a smile. “Let’s not leap ahead. I want you to tell me what you remember about the twenty-first of December. Take your time.”

Tabitha nodded. She closed her eyes and then opened them again. What did she remember? It was like looking into a night full of snow, a dizzying half darkness, when even up and down seemed reversed and the ground tilted beneath her feet.

“I woke up early,” she began. “But I don’t think I got up at once. It was cold outside, a horrible day. I remember it was half snowing and then it was sleety, with a hard wind blowing. I started to make myself breakfast, then I realized I’d run out of milk so I just put a jacket on over my pajamas and went to the village shop. I bought a paper, I think.”

“What time was this?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t looking at the time. Then I went home.”

“Did you go out again?”

“I had a swim. I always have a swim.”

“How?”

“What?”

“Where’s the nearest swimming pool and how did you get there? Remember, the road was blocked after ten, so you would have to have gone and returned before then.” She spoke with a warning tone.

“In the sea.”

Piozzi’s eyebrows shot up. “You went swimming in the sea, in the middle of winter, on a day you describe as horrible.”

“I do it every day,” said Tabitha. “It’s a rule. My own rule. I have to.”

“Rather you than me. You have a wetsuit, though.”

“I like to feel the cold water on my skin. It almost hurts.” She saw Mora Piozzi purse her lips slightly, as if Tabitha had said something she didn’t like. “People in Okeham probably think I’m mad. Anyway, I swam that day.” She thought she could remember the bitter splash of waves on her body and the sharp, icy stones under her feet, but perhaps she was making that up. She swam every day. How was she meant to tell one from another?

“What time?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember. In the morning? I think it would have been the morning. That’s when I normally go.”