But still nothing.

‘Where is he?’ she demands.

There is another long silence.

‘I know what he was to you,’ Richard continues. ‘I know.’

She does not wonder what he means. She thinks only of Thomas. Of how they left one another.

‘He was . . .’ She is going to say ‘everything’. She bites back a sob. Tears are pouring down her cheeks. She feels she could catch them and fill her palms.

‘Perhaps it is right that we don’t find him, do you think?’ Richard goes on. ‘That he is buried with the men who died with him? A sort of fellowship?’

Katherine nods in the dark, but she snivels. She remembers burying Red John and she knows how that felt. Then:

‘No,’ she says. ‘No. He is here. Thomas!’ she shouts. ‘Thomas!’

‘My lady . . .’ Richard begins.

She wipes her eyes, her cheeks, her nose, her chin. Tears are everywhere.

Again: ‘Thomas!’ and her shout is racked by a sob. ‘Oh God, Thomas!’

And this time, nearby, there is a movement on the edge of the pile of corpses. A man holds up a bloodied hand. He is hidden, half buried by another man’s body, and they cannot see his face.

‘Katherine,’ the man whispers.

At first she does not hear it.

‘Katherine,’ he says again, louder, calling.

And this time she hears him, and she turns.

Acknowledgements

This novel has taken a shamefully long time to finish, and in that time I have been shown so much kindness by so many people that it would almost be quicker to list the people who haven’t helped me (you know who you are . . .) but I particularly want to thank some of you – and mention you by name – for putting up with me, encouraging me, lending me money and an ear, for buying me lunch when we all knew it was my turn. I’d like to thank you, Kazzie, first and foremost, for continuing to bear with me through uncertain times, remaining cheery and lovely while doing so; Marth, for being a very weird, but very perfect, early reader; Mum, for absolutely everything; Dad, for you know what (the cheque’s in the post), and Nick and Lil for all your amazing kindness and support over the years. I’d also like to thank Tom and Max, too, for being so special, in every way. You have all been marvels of patience and generosity – I could not have managed it without you.

I’d also like to say a huge thank you to each of Rooster Clements, Nick Clements, Justin Thomson-Glover, Kate Summerscale, Sinclair Mckay, David Allison, Jake Werksman, Alex Sarginson, Wayne Holloway and Tessa Dunlop, too, for your tolerance, guidance, generosity and support in so many varying guises, the less said about which, perhaps the better. You have been top friends in this matter and I can’t thank you enough.