‘I wasn’t talking about sex,’ said Rob. ‘Not that it wouldn’t be a bad thing. I mean you need something outside of us.’
Henley faced Rob, her eyes narrowed, and asked, ‘What do you mean, “Outside of us”?’
Rob saw her reaction and laughed softly. ‘I’m talking about self-care, not an open marriage. I have running and mountain biking with the boys.’
‘The same mountain biking where you end up at the pub, have a skinful and then spend Sunday morning nursing a hangover?’
‘The point is that I have something to channel my frustrations into.’
‘I’m not going running. I hate running.’
‘Find something else then. Tennis. Swimming. You used to do kickboxing once upon a time.’
‘Back when I was twenty-one. But, also, where am I going to find the time?’
‘Just think about it.’
Henley’s phone began to ring, Rob picked it up. His mouth twisted slightly as though he’d tasted something bitter and he handed it over.
‘I’ll get Emma ready,’ he said and left their bedroom.
Rob’s demeanour made sense when Henley saw who was calling.
‘Are you still at home?’ asked Pellacia.
‘Yes,’ said Henley. She got up and opened her wardrobe. ‘Why, what’s going on?’
‘Nathan Hall,’ Pellacia said with clear disbelief. ‘He hasn’t been formally identified but—’
‘Nathan Hall, the footballer?’ Henley’s brain kicked into gear. ‘Didn’t he—’
Henley stopped as Emma ran into the bedroom, followed by Rob.
‘Come on, chipmunk. This isn’t the time for games,’ Rob told her. Emma squealed with delight as Rob picked her up, held her aloft in the air and left.
‘Sorry about that,’ said Henley.
‘It’s fine,’ answered Pellacia. ‘I’m sending you the details. Ramouter will meet you at the address.’
‘Can you say why the SCU?’ Henley asked.
She couldn’t see him, but she knew what Pellacia was doing: closing his eyes whilst he massaged his forehead.
‘Head injuries … that look like a scalping.’
‘Morning,’ Henley greeted Ramouter as they both put on their protective clothing and gloves.
Haverstock Road in Beckenham was flanked by large, detached houses barred from public view by high brick walls and black security gates. The occupants – from hedge fund managers to social media influencers – had woken up to find their peace disturbed by police sirens.
‘I’ve got some updates,’ she continued. ‘We got confirmation from the property management company that the house was rented by Nathan Hall.’
‘Shit. He got acquitted yesterday,’ said Ramouter.
‘Yes, he did, and the majority of social media are not very happy about that.’
‘Who found the body?’
‘Odette Pinto. The housekeeper employed by the property management company.’
