It was past eleven and very quiet in the bar at the Carswell Bay Hotel. A young couple sat at a table in one corner, up close to one another and talking in animated fashion. Another, older couple sat almost in silence together, the man holding his glass of beer and staring straight ahead. Near the door to the hall Sharon was sitting with her hand round the stem of a glass of wine. Douglas, a burly young man with close cropped dark hair was holding an almost empty pint glass.
‘b****y hell, Sharry,’ he growled, ‘you’ve been avoiding me for three months or more and now you tell me this.’
‘I’ve been unwell, under the doctor, you know that, Doug.’
‘That’s what you tell me now.’
‘It was the shock of finding that man’s body. It took me ages to even realise I was suffering from shock and then
