Aspirin, water and a morning moping on the balcony were enough for Jessica to finally start feeling like herself. As she sat with her feet on the railing outside watching the people underneath, Jessica phoned Izzy just after midday.

The constable answered straight away. ‘Jess, are you okay?’

‘I’ve been better.’

‘Did you get my messages? You don’t have to come in today, I told Jack you were feeling ill.’

‘Did you tell him about Nicholas?’

‘No.’

‘Good.’

Izzy stumbled over her reply. ‘What happened? Obviously you’d been drinking . . .’

‘I don’t remember.’

‘You told me to remind you that Eleanor and Kayleigh left at the same time but that was all. I couldn’t understand a word you were saying.’

‘I knew it would only be a matter of time before I picked the Mancunian accent up.’ Jessica laughed but the other end of the line was silent.

‘Why didn’t you ask someone else to talk to him with you?’

‘He wouldn’t have spoken to anyone else.’

‘But you could have been hurt.’

Jessica could feel a lump at the back of her throat and swallowed hard. ‘I told you where I was. You knew what to do if I hadn’t called by a certain time.’

The constable’s voice was quieter as she replied. ‘Yes, but anything could have happened in that time.’

Jessica didn’t want to dwell on it, taking a mouthful of water. ‘I’m going to visit Ellie. Can you send me her phone number?’

‘Can’t you take a day off?’

Jessica couldn’t tell from her friend’s tone if she was joking or serious. ‘Iz, I’m fine, send me the details and I’ll see you later or tomorrow.’

‘You’re forgetting though . . .’

Jessica interrupted, trying to speak with an authority she wasn’t feeling. ‘Can you please just do it?’

There was a pause before the constable replied with a terse ‘fine’ and then hung up.

Jessica felt bad for snapping and as soon as the line went silent, she knew what her friend was trying to remind her of. Although she was in the flat in Salford, her car was still parked on the other side of the city at Longsight. She finished her glass of water and returned indoors hoping there was still a set of bus timetables in the drawer underneath the sink.

As she walked from the bus stop to Eleanor Sexton’s house, Jessica couldn’t help but think that public transport was without doubt one of the worst things possible for a hangover. Everything from the whining babies to the teenagers with music pouring out of their headphones to the vague aroma suggesting that someone had mistaken the top deck for a public toilet made things feel worse. By the time she had taken the three separate buses necessary, Jessica was beginning to wish she had heeded Izzy’s advice about having a day off – or at least not been stingy and called a taxi instead.

‘Lara’s asleep upstairs,’ Eleanor said, welcoming Jessica inside with a whisper.

The woman looked weary but had clearly been very attractive in her younger days. Her hair was still just about blonde and Jessica could tell her body was trim and toned, despite it being covered by ill-fitting clothes.

‘. . . I always remember the pretty ones . . .’

It hadn’t been that long ago that Jessica had visited Cameron at the house. Things seemed exactly the same, with neat rows of shoes and coats inside the door and a fresh smell as if the hallway had been recently cleaned.

Eleanor led her through to the living room and went off to the kitchen to make tea. Jessica had a wander around, taking in the family photos she had glanced at on her previous visit. It was the first time she had spoken to Eleanor directly. Other officers had been to see her before but the woman hadn’t had much to offer.

When she returned, Eleanor sat in an armchair, curling her feet under herself. ‘How can I help you?’ she asked, sipping from a mug with a pink cartoon character on the front. As if sensing Jessica’s question, she added: ‘It’s from Lara’s favourite show. I gave you an adult’s mug.’

Jessica looked at the plain whiteness of her own and half-wished she had the child’s one. ‘I know someone has been to see you already but I’d like to ask you about Nicholas Long.’

She saw the recognition in Eleanor’s eyes, before the woman glanced away towards the window. ‘He used to be my boss. I told your people that. I’m not sure what else you want me to add.’

Jessica persisted. ‘Was that when you worked with Kayleigh?’ Eleanor nodded but didn’t reply, so Jessica continued to push. ‘I know someone visited to tell you what happened to her.’

Eleanor cradled the mug. ‘I didn’t know what to say to your people. I hadn’t seen her in ages but obviously there’s this strange link between us now because of what happened with poor Oliver.’

Jessica took a moment to let her dwell on the words. She didn’t think Eleanor was being evasive, but perhaps there was something hidden away she had tried to forget.

‘How close did you used to be?’ Jessica asked.

Eleanor answered with a shrug. ‘It was such a long time ago. We were good mates but a lot of that was because we saw each other every day and worked together. We were young women and I guess we moved on over time.’ As if realising what could be happening, she glanced up from her mug to catch Jessica’s eye. ‘Should I be worried?’

‘I don’t know. There’s nothing to say you or your family are in any danger.’

‘But did whoever killed Oliver also kill Kayleigh?’

‘I don’t know. We’re looking into it.’

Eleanor nodded. ‘But why would . . . ? I don’t see the connection.’

‘Neither do we – I’m hoping that’s where you can help.’

Jessica made sure she kept eye contact with the other woman until Eleanor looked away. She cuddled her free arm across herself, still holding the mug in the other. ‘I already talked to your people about Kayleigh,’ she said defensively.

Leaning forward in her chair, Jessica waited for the other woman to look at her before speaking. ‘I went to see Nicholas Long yesterday . . .’

Eleanor’s eyebrows flickered upwards.

‘It doesn’t sound as if either of you worked in the greatest of environments,’ Jessica added. Eleanor nodded but didn’t reply. ‘He told me that you both left at the same time; the same day.’

Her eyes suddenly widened. ‘He remembers us?’ There was a definite tone of apprehension.

‘He doesn’t know anything about you now, but yes.’

‘He’s not a nice man.’

Eleanor’s statement didn’t sound fearful, she was stating a fact.

‘I know.’

Both women locked eyes again and Jessica knew Eleanor had experienced exactly what she had from Nicholas – probably worse.

‘Why didn’t you tell us before that you had left that casino together at the same time?’

‘I didn’t think it was that important.’

Eleanor’s voice faltered and it was clear she wasn’t fooling herself, let alone anyone else.

‘What happened?’

Eleanor turned to look out of the window as Jessica tried to make eye contact. A clock on the mantelpiece tick-tocked through the silence, drawing Jessica’s attention. It looked like the top part of a grandfather clock, similar to one her parents had at their house. A needle metronomed from side to side, clicking as it reached the furthest points.

‘That used to belong to Cameron’s grandparents,’ Eleanor said softly. Jessica turned to face her, wondering how long her own attention had been distracted for. ‘It was made in 1899 and has been in the family ever since. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’

Jessica squinted to see the detail more closely. Each number was in a perfect spidery script and there was an intricately painted background depicting a particular time of day behind each one.

‘It’s really nice.’

‘We’ve never done anything to it, no batteries or anything like that. I have no idea how it works but it is amazing.’