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circling their loss like wild animals. Curious, but wary. She got angry if she felt that he was treating her differently, and he would overcompensate, storming around the flat and taking out his bad day, his foul mood, his grief on her.
    It was difficult.
    The mildest of disagreements, a furious row, a fuck . . .
    Sometimes it felt wrong to Thorne how easily one could lead to the next, and that any of them was really about a hundred different things. He had tried to explain it to Phil Hendricks – his closest friend and a good one to Louise, too – one night in front of Sky Sports.
    â€˜I bet the row lasts longer,’ Hendricks had said.
    â€˜I just can’t bear the thought of her in pain,’ Thorne had said, at which point Hendricks had stopped joking.
    â€˜Tom?’
    Thorne looked over and saw that Louise was watching him over the top of her paper.
    â€˜There’s no point worrying about it,’ she said. She laid down the paper and reached for the cat, curled up next to her on the sofa. ‘There’s nothing you can do, unless you fancy trying to nobble a couple of jurors.’
    Thorne sighed, nodded. He knew she was right, but it wasn’t helping. ‘A couple of them are no older than Andrea was,’ he said.
    â€˜So?’
    â€˜So, you worry they can’t make a . . . mature decision.’
    â€˜â€œMature” meaning “guilty”.’
    â€˜That they won’t see what Chambers is really like.’
    â€˜You want to raise the legal age for jury service? To what – twenty-one? Forty?’
    â€˜I’m just saying.’
    â€˜You don’t think an eighteen-year-old knows exactly what the likes of Adam Chambers is capable of?’ She jabbed a finger at her Standard . ‘Kids half that age are doing worse things every day of the week. Knifing each other for an iPhone.’
    Thorne shook his head.
    â€˜Come on, you’ve dealt with enough of them.’
    â€˜Not the same,’ Thorne said. ‘You’re right . . . but most of the time there’s a reason at least. I’m not justifying it, course I’m not, but it’s not the same as what Chambers did to Andrea Keane.’
    â€˜You don’t know what he did.’
    â€˜They don’t enjoy it.’
    Louise picked up her paper again, read for a minute, then asked Thorne if he’d remembered to put the leftover souvlaki in tin-foil. He was on his way to the kitchen when the doorbell rang.
    Louise asked the question with a look. Thorne shrugged a ‘no idea’ and moved towards the door.
    â€˜Look, I know I should have called, so I’m sorry if it’s a bit late . . .’
    Thorne’s flat was on the ground floor, but the entrance to the building was half a dozen steps up from the street. He peered down at his visitor from the edge of the half-open door, his expression making it abundantly clear that he was cold and less than delighted to see her.
    â€˜How did you get my address?’
    She smiled. ‘I’m a detective.’
    Thorne waited.
    â€˜I’ve got a friend who works for the DVLA.’
    â€˜ Used to ,’ Thorne said. ‘She just lost her job.’
    â€˜Oh come on—’
    â€˜What do you want, Anna?’
    She climbed a couple of steps, then leaned towards Thorne and held out a hand. He took the piece of paper she was brandishing.
    â€˜It’s Donna’s address.’
    â€˜Haven’t we been through this?’
    â€˜Just go and see her,’ Anna said. ‘Please.’
    â€˜There’s no point.’ Thorne rubbed at his bare forearms, shook his head. ‘Look, I don’t want to see her and I very much doubt she’d be too keen on seeing me.’
    â€˜I phoned her. She knows I’ve spoken to you.’
    â€˜So, phone her again. Tell her I’m not coming.’
    â€˜Just go round there for half an hour.’ Anna took another step up towards the door.