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‘Yes. I don’t know whether they were all there at the same time.’

‘Well, Jonquil and Reggie certainly were, otherwise she couldn’t have killed him . . . if one can use such a transitive verb as “killed” in this context.’ Carole was thoughtful for a moment. ‘And you say Piers and Felicity Budgen had regular liaisons at the tennis court over the years?’

‘Yes,’ Jude confirmed, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible.

‘And do you know if that relationship was still ongoing . . . I mean, obviously until Piers took up with you?’

Jude was forced to admit that she didn’t know. It was one of the many questions that would have to be asked when she and Piers Targett next met.

‘It’s funny,’ said Carole. ‘I would never have suspected that a real tennis court could be used as a venue for illicit assignations.’

‘Well, I’m not sure that they all are, but over the years the Lockleigh House one has been. And it’s a tradition that still continues.’

‘Oh?’

‘Ned Jackson, the junior professional, sees himself as a bit of a Lothario. He’s been two-timing his girlfriend at the court with one of the younger members. Poor kid, he’s treating her very badly. And she can’t be much more than sixteen. Pretty girl called Tonya Grace.’

Carole Seddon looked thunderstruck. ‘Do you know, Jude,’ she said, ‘that’s the second time I’ve heard that name today.’

It was a matter of moments to tell her neighbour the context in which Tonya Grace’s name had come up.

‘“Seeing someone killed”?’ Jude echoed. ‘My God, maybe Tonya was there the night of Reggie’s death! Ned Jackson swore she wasn’t, but he’d lie about anything to save his skin.’

‘We need to talk to the girl,’ said Carole. ‘Have you any means of getting in touch with her?’

‘Apparently Felicity Budgen’s rather taken her under her wing, but I’m not sure that I want to contact Felicity right now. Simplest way would be through the court. I’ve got the number. I’ll see if there’s anyone there.’

George Hazlitt answered. ‘Oh, hello, Jude. Booking your follow-up lesson, are you?’

‘Not right now, actually. I was wondering if you had a number for Tonya Grace.’

‘Thinking of setting up a game with her? Good idea. Though you’ll have to be on your toes. She’s getting very good these days. Still, with the handicap you should be OK.’ He gave the mobile number. ‘Actually, she’s coming up to the court this afternoon, after school. Rang this morning and I’d just had a cancellation of the five forty-five court, so she booked it for a lesson with Ned. But now Ned’s had to rush off for some family emergency. I’ve tried to ring Tonya to put her off, but her mobile seems to be off, so I’ll have to hang around and give her the lesson myself. Which is a bit of a bugger, because I was hoping to get home early, what with it being a Friday. Still, the hazards of being a tennis pro, eh?’

As soon as the call was over, Jude tried the mobile number George had given her. It was still switched off.

Jude looked across at Carole, her eyes sparkling. ‘Tonya’s going to be at the court at five forty-five. We can see her there.’

They got there at five thirty to find a very disgruntled George Hazlitt in the pros’ office packing up his bag.

‘Is Tonya here?’ asked Jude urgently.

‘Yes. Except now she doesn’t want her lesson. I’ve been waiting around all afternoon for her, she arrives, gets into her kit, then comes back here and asks where Ned is. I say he’s gone off for this family emergency and I’m going to stand in for him. Whereupon she bursts into tears and says she doesn’t want to have a lesson, after all. Then rushes back to the changing rooms.’ He raised his eyes to heaven. ‘Teenage girls! I’ve got a couple at home. I thought I came to work to get away from them.’

‘I think I know what might be wrong with Tonya,’ said Jude. ‘Do you mind if I go and have a word with her?’

George Hazlitt shrugged. ‘Do what you like. The door’ll lock itself when you go out. Anyway, there’ll be a doubles lot coming for the seven o’clock court.’ He picked up his bag grumpily and made for the door. ‘Have a good weekend,’ he called out in a tone that didn’t imply he was going to.

Not really aware that Carole had never been on a real tennis court before, Jude led the way down the walkway to the club room. The neighbour looked curiously at the large empty area on their left but made no comment.

Tonya Grace hadn’t got as far as the ladies’ changing room. She was crumpled on a leather sofa in front of the bare fireplace, sobbing her little heart out.

‘Tonya,’ said Jude gently, ‘I’m Jude. You may have seen me round the court.’

The girl was too distressed to make any attempt to wipe her tears. She just went on crying.

‘And this is my friend, Carole. Look, I think I know why you’re so upset.’

‘I doubt it,’ said Tonya Grace, an edge of adolescent petulance showing through her tears.

‘You wanted to see Ned, didn’t you? To try and sort things out with him.’

‘What if I did?’

‘Listen, Tonya, I know about you meeting Ned here, you know, when the court’s closed.’

‘Do you?’ The girl looked alarmed now. ‘You mustn’t tell my grandparents! My babushka thinks I’ve been having sleepovers with friends. She must never find out!’

‘Don’t worry, she won’t,’ Jude soothed. ‘Look, I want to talk about a night you and Ned were here. I think it was probably the last time. It was the night Reggie Playfair died.’

Again alarm showed through the girl’s tears. ‘What do you know about it?’

‘I know that you didn’t do anything wrong, Tonya. But I know you saw things that upset you.’

‘How do you know this? You weren’t here too, were you?’

‘No. I wasn’t here. Ned Jackson said you didn’t come here that night.’

‘Well, he would say that, wouldn’t he? He’d say any lie that got him off the hook. Like today – this “family emergency”. I bet he didn’t have any family emergency until George said I’d booked a lesson with him.’

Sensing that a new tsunami of tears threatened, Jude said quickly, ‘Tell me exactly what happened that night. You’ll feel better if you do.’

Tonya Grace looked doubtful, unwilling to share her secrets with strangers.

Carole, who had so far not spoken, said, ‘You didn’t mind telling Marina Gretchenko about it, did you?’

Bewilderment flooded the girl’s face. But the fact that this woman she’d never seen before knew her friend seemed to reassure her, to make her feel she could get the burden of painful recollection off her chest.

‘Ned fixed up that we should meet that night. The usual time, the usual place, it was getting to be a habit. I didn’t like it. I kept asking why we couldn’t go out like normal couples, you know, down the pub, see a movie, have a meal. But he said he’d got this ex-girlfriend who was very jealous. And it was all over between them, but they still both lived in this flat which they were having trouble selling. You know, it really was all over, they had separate rooms and that, but . . . So I agreed to meet him here.’

‘How do you normally travel here?’ asked Jude.

‘I get the train from Brighton to Clincham. I’ve got a friend there whose parents let me leave my bike in their garden. So I cycle the last bit.’

‘All right, that night . . .’

‘Well, it was like usual. Ned would bring a bottle of wine. We’d have a couple of glasses and then . . . well . . .’

‘You had sex.’