“Of course it is,” the policeman said. “Off you go. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything now.”

          Jasmine nodded, then turned and walked slowly down the path and out of the gate, closing it behind her.

          “Right then, Mrs Green,” the policeman said heartily, “let’s get you inside, shall we?” He took the bunch of keys out of Mrs Green’s unresisting hand.

          “Chris,” Mrs Green said tentatively, “is everything that… that woman said true?”

          The policeman nodded as he inserted the key into the keyhole.

          “Yes, I’m afraid it is. Sorry.”

          “What happened?” Mrs Green demanded. “I want to know the facts. How did he…?”

          “Let’s go inside, shall we?”

          Mrs Green nodded, and then shook her head, momentarily confused.

          “I can’t get in. George has the key. Mine’s inside. That’s why I’m out here.”

          The policeman turned the key and pushed the door open. He pulled the key out of the keyhole and handed the small bunch to Mrs Green. She stared at them.

          “Yes, that’s them. They were in his…” Mrs Green broke off and started to cry.

          The policeman put his arm around her shoulder.

          “Don’t upset yourself,” he said softly, as he guided Mrs Green into her house. He went out, picked up her shopping bags and brought them in, closing the front door behind him.

          Mrs Green was standing in the centre of the sombrely furnished and immaculately tidy living room. She was looking around.