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old teacher of mine at the college. It would be unforgivable to be late.” Even at the time it seemed strange to her that Daniel Abbot felt the need to give her so many details of his evening out. Later, it would become positively suspicious.
    Chapter Eight
    Mrs. Symons was embarrassed. That was clear from the moment she opened the double-glazed door of her smart little semi. She looked down the street to check that none of her neighbours could see she had gentlemen callers. Throughout the interview her face was flushed. She was hating every minute of it. At first Ramsay wondered why she had come forward so promptly. If she had kept quiet they would never have tracked her down. Then he realized she was a good woman. She would do what she considered right.
    “It was a terrible mistake,” she said, as she showed them into her living room. “Really. I don’t know what came over me.”
    Ramsay had stopped in Otterbridge to read her statement and understood a little of what she meant.
    “The dating agency?” he asked gently.
    She nodded, horrified.
    “Why don’t you explain?”
    “My husband left me ten years ago,” she said, as if that too was a matter of shame. “For his nurse.” Then, seeing that they were confused: “He’s a dentist with a practice in the town centre. Symons and Miller.”
    Ramsay nodded encouragingly.
    “It was a shock,” she said. She was a little, small-featured woman, attractive in a neat, contained way. “Unexpected. I had thought we were settled. Happy even.”
    Ramsay nodded again. She continued, gaining in confidence.
    “I’d never worked. We married early before I’d decided, really, on a career. I had O Levels, of course, and one A Level but no training, nothing useful in the way of skills. I’d thought marriage would be enough. Marriage and children.” She paused, then continued in a rush: “There was one baby. A little girl. Helen. But she died. A cot death, you know. She’d be a teenager now. There weren’t any more.”
    She stared blankly ahead of her.
    Hunter had been expecting quite a different sort of woman, someone blowsy and sexy, like his favourite barmaid, but even he was moved. Almost to tears. Christ, he thought, I must be getting soft in my old age.
    She went on matter-of-factly: “When Russell left I knew I’d have to get a job of some sort. To support myself. His new wife very soon had a baby and I couldn’t expect him to give me money when they had financial commitments of their own. But I wasn’t qualified for anything and I’d lost any self-esteem I’d had with the divorce. So I went for shop work. I didn’t think that would be too demanding. I got taken on by Hawkins.”
    Ramsay nodded. He recognized the name.
    Hawkins was an old-fashioned, family-run department store.
    “I enjoyed it. I progressed through the business and became a supervisor. Then I was approached by Mr. Jones who has the shoe shop in the square. He wanted to retire and he needed a manager. He thought I’d do. It was rather flattering to be asked. And the money was good. A commission on top of the salary. I built up the business and did rather well.” She paused again. “I’m sorry,” she said. “None of this is relevant to your enquiry. I’m afraid I’m wasting your time. But I’m trying to explain how I went to the agency.”
    “The work had given you confidence,” Ramsay said.
    “Yes,” she said, pleased that he knew what she meant. “And I thought: if I can be quite successful in work, why not in my private life? It wasn’t so much that I felt lonely. But incomplete. I don’t suppose you understand
    Ramsay understood very well.
    “I never met men,” she explained. “Except in the shop and that was no good. I tried the usual things evening classes, clubs. That got me out of the house but I only met other women, or occasionally a happily married man. I had the feeling that time was running out. It sounds awful but I thought: soon I’ll be in competition not