Even as I uttered the words, I realised how ridiculous I must have sounded. Maryam remained silent for a moment. When she eventually spoke, slowly and clearly, the pity in her eyes was unmistakable. It made me feel guilty and pathetic. She had lost the most important person in her life and yet her sympathy for me in my overwrought state was tangible. She placed a hand on top of my own.

‘Stina, Reggie found her bandana,’ she said gently.

‘What? When?’

‘A couple of weeks after she came to visit you. She had her car valeted and the guys found it under the seat. They’d folded it up and left it on the dashboard so she’d see it.’

‘And it wasn’t – ripped or anything?’

‘No, completely intact.’

Stunned, I slumped back, remembering how I’d broken into Mrs Barley’s house; the things I’d suspected of her, the wild, groundless allegations I had just made. I felt terrible about it all. She was just an eccentric old woman, and she’d been so helpful, and here was I, accusing her of God knows what. Maryam must think me some kind of lunatic – and it probably wasn’t far from the truth. I put a hand to my mouth, tears spilling down my cheeks.

‘Stina, I think we have to accept that what happened to Reggie was a tragic accident. No one was to blame. It was sheer bad luck. I don’t believe in curses or the power of juju dolls, or whatever you want to call them. Why would your neighbour wish her ill, anyway? It makes no sense. I know sometimes it makes it easier if we have someone to blame when something so terrible has happened, but I don’t think in this case anyone is. I know how much you loved her, and I did, too. But we have to let it go.’

I nodded mutely, feeling foolish and hating myself for my outburst. I wondered whether she must think me slightly deranged. To think I’d had such doubts about Mrs Barley, much less actually voiced them. I felt wretched.

Maryam was still looking at me anxiously.

‘I’m sorry.’ I plucked a tissue from the box on the coffee table and dabbed at my eyes, composing myself. ‘You’re right, of course. Please ignore me. It’s probably the wine – I’m not used to it. I just – I don’t know, it’s hard to believe that Reggie could have just slipped over. But I suppose none of us are completely on our guard when we’ve had a drink.’

‘She was drinking a bit too much towards the end, to be quite frank. She knew she was going to have to break it off with Akhmad and I think it was stressing her out – she was building up to the right moment. I should have been there for her, but as usual my job came first.’