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stranger to us. To Rob, to me. He had nothing to do with anything in our past.’
    â€˜You don’t know that, Clara.’
    â€˜And you don’t know any different,’ she told him pointedly. ‘Look, Inspector Friedman. I know you have a job to do and I appreciate that you’re trying to be as gentle with me as you can, but I didn’t tell Rob about his father, far as I know I told him the truth and he
has
gone away. He certainly talked about it. Why dredge up the past now?’
    â€˜Because,’ Alec said patiently, ‘we have to follow every lead and Rob’s friends …’
    â€˜Rob’s friends. You place a lot of store by Rob’s friends. Does their word count for more than mine? I’m telling you, this has nothing to do with Rob’s father.’
    Alec pulled the folding chair from beneath Rob’s desk and brought it close to the bed. He sat down opposite Clara. ‘I know it hurts,’ he said, ‘and, before you say anything more, I can’t begin to comprehend how much. Frankly, I hope I’m never in the position to know how much. I don’t know how I’d cope. How I’d want to go on.’
    He held her gaze, that analytical, challenging look from the flecked hazel eyes. She looked for deceit, for a sign that, despite his words, he somehow diminished the full extent of her pain. ‘Clara, I need to have their names. If Rob’s friends are right and he went looking for his father, who knows what he might have found, or thought he found and, if he started with false information …’
    She swallowed convulsively and then, the briefest of nods. ‘I don’t know where either of them is,’ she said softly. ‘And that’s the truth. Aiden, Aiden Ryan was the boy … man … I two-timed with. My boyfriend was in my class at school. His name was Jamie. Jamie Scott. There now you know and I’d be grateful if you’d all drink your tea, take whatever you have to take and get the hell out of here.’

Six
    C harlie and Becky were already standing on the corner near the bus stop when Patrick got there.
    â€˜What do you think she wants?’ he hadn’t meant to sound so nervous.
    Charlie shrugged.
    â€˜
They
were out, thank God,’ she said, meaning her parents. ‘I didn’t expect her to phone me like that. It was … Do we have to do this?’
    Patrick refrained from stating the obvious; that, evidently Becky herself thought they did seeing as she was here.
    Charlie shrugged again, then turned and started to walk towards Rob’s house. ‘Better hear her out,’ he said uncomfortably.
    â€˜What can we tell her?’
    â€˜I don’t know,’ Patrick said. ‘What
do
we know?’
    Clara must have been watching for them because she opened the door as they set foot on the front path. She stood aside to let them through and the four of them crowded into the hall, reluctant to go through the open kitchen door.
    â€˜Go into the living room,’ Clara told them. ‘I’ve got the kettle on and some biscuits and …’ She paused and took a deep, steadying breath. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Thank you for coming. I really don’t know what I was thinking of, phoning Becky like that, I must have sounded like some kind of mad woman …’
    From what Becky had told them, Patrick thought, that was exactly what she had sounded like, but he joined the reassuring, if half-hearted murmurs of the others in their attempt to reassure, though, Patrick knew, the others felt no better equipped to do this than did he.
    â€˜Clara, you go and sit down,’ Becky said. ‘I’ll make some coffee, I know where everything is.’
    Clara nodded; she seemed at the end of her strength. Charlie shot Becky a horrified look. You’re leaving us to look after her? it said. Becky scowled at him and nudged Clara forward into the living room. It