When he woke up, he was on the sofa. Sally was sitting on the edge, holding a cup of tea she had made for him on her mother's instructions.

He drank slowly. He hated the taste of tea. Coffee he could stomach. He made a face, but drank half of the tea just to show willing.

'Did I pass out?'

'Yes.'

'First time. First time ever. Where's Mum?'

'Phoning the doctor.'

'No need for that. I'm all right now.'

'Just drink your tea. Mum said.'

'I don't want the doctor.....'

'Please don't start shouting again, Daddy.'

'I'm not shouting. I'm all right. I don't want the bloody doctor!'

He handed her the cup and saucer and swung his legs onto the floor. He started to stand up, but the revelation of Clitheroe's death and its attendant consequences flooded back. His head began to swim and he felt dizzy. He sat back down again.

Shirley came into the room.

'Doctor Parkinson will be here in a few minutes.'

'I don't need a doctor.'

'Best to let him look at you.'

'There's nothing wrong with me....'

'I think there is. He's on his way, and that's that. It won't hurt you to let him look at you. Was it what I told you?'

'About Clitheroe? Yes, of course. It isn't true, it can't be. They must have got the times of death mixed up.'

'Mike!'

Sally looked from one parent to another. She was frightened, and confused. Even after Sharringford her father had not acted like this. He had certainly not fainted, at any rate.

'Go and finish your homework, there's a good girl.'

Thompson nodded and Sally reluctantly left the room.

'He can probably give you something....'

'No drugs,’ he insisted. ‘I will see him. I won't make a fuss. But we have to talk. You and I have to talk. And I have to talk to Ken Hargreaves.'

'Later. Tomorrow. If the doctor says it's all right.'

'You and I have to talk. If what you said is true, that Clitheroe did not kill Kim Catchpole, then there is something very wrong, very wrong.'

'Later. You need a good night's rest.'

Parkinson agreed with that suggestion, and tried to persuade Thompson to take something to make him sleep, but he refused point blank. Other than that he was unable to find anything wrong with a most stubborn patient, and reluctantly agreed that Thompson should be fit and well again by morning.

'I'm sorry, I can't force him to take something. He'll get over it soon enough. If he wants to get up and carry on in the morning, there's absolutely no reason why he shouldn't.'

Shirley started to say something but thought better of it. She watched him drive away from the house, then returned to the front room.

'Well?'

'He's gone. Apparently there's nothing wrong with you.'

'As I told you.'

'So what's wrong with the Clitheroe business? Do you want to talk about it now, or in the morning.'

'Now. And I want you to telephone Ken, ask him to come round here in the morning.'

'Ken's on duty.'

'He won't mind.'

'I'll ring him in a minute. What's wrong, then?'

'Clitheroe killed a girl, Polly Bartram, thirteen years ago. Amongst others. Wilson was the investigating and arresting officer.'

'And you assisted him.'

'You remember?'

'I remember. Go on.'

'Wilson was getting nowhere. Clitheroe spoke to me. We made some progress. He told me what he had done to Polly and the others that no-one had noticed.'

'And the same thing was done to Kim?'

'Yes.'

'Then someone else must have known about it.'

'Not possible.'

'Why not?'

'It was something he only told me.'

'How do you know?'

'He wouldn't talk to anyone else about it. I was the one who got through to him. He wouldn't tell anyone else. He didn't tell anyone else.'

'He must have.'

'I tell you he didn't!'

'Don't start shouting at me again, or I shall walk out.'

'Sorry. Don't you see, he didn't ever mention it to anyone else.'

'Wasn't it brought up at the trial?'

'No. It wasn’t relevant. Well, it was relevant, but it would have altered the case. He confessed, we put him away. He eventually felt so guilty about what he had done, he thought if it came out in court they would reduce his punishment, you know, bring in a plea of diminished responsibility, something like that. I honestly think he would have hung if it had been still available. The only details that were released at the trial were the ones that were published in the press, in the proceedings. There was no mention of......'

'What did he do that no-one else noticed?'

'I didn't notice it either, not until he told me about it. I went back to the morgue and had a look at her......'

'What was it?' she said softly, desperately wanting to help, to understand.

But he was miles away, thirteen years away, reliving his last interview with Clitheroe before the trial. He could see and hear Shirley, but for the moment he was somewhere else, another place, another time.