I’d never say that Oliver was the only man I’ll ever love. Unlike my mother, I am not prone to making dramatic statements like that. But I do think it’s unlikely that I’ll ever get into another relationship like that with a man. Certainly not a cohabiting relationship. I don’t say that out of self-pity, I’m just being realistic. In my fifties, I’ve got out of the habit of that kind of love. I don’t miss it. I miss Oliver himself every day, but that’s different.

And friends say, ‘Oh, you’ll be surprised. When the right person comes along …’

I don’t think I’d have the emotional energy.

But none of that had prepared me for a come-on from a little creep like Edward Finch. Or for what he said next. ‘You’re about the same size as Pauline was, Ellen. Those dresses would fit you. Do you want to put one on now?’

As if what he’d said wasn’t offensive enough, he then had the nerve to put his arms round me.

I’m not a habitual slapper. No, perhaps I should rephrase that, could be misinterpreted … I don’t often slap people. Certainly not clients. In fact, I disapprove of any kind of violence against another human being. But for Edward Finch, I was prepared to make an exception. I lashed out with my right hand and caught him hard across the cheek. The mark reddened instantly.

He had the nerve to smile and say, ‘Don’t fight it, Ellen. You know you really want me. And you really want to put on one of those dresses.’

‘What I really want,’ I said, ‘is to leave this place and never see you again!’

‘You say that, but you don’t mean it.’

‘Thank you, Edward, but I do know exactly what I mean. And I mean to have nothing more to do with you, beyond sending you an invoice for the time of mine that you’ve already wasted.’

‘Time with the one you love is never wasted. You’ll come round, Ellen.’

I marched to the bedroom door. Then had a thought, stopped, and looked back at him. ‘Tell me something.’

‘Anything you want, my love.’

I winced at the endearment, but said, ‘When we first met, you suggested to me that you had murdered your wife.’

‘Yes.’

‘Though you hadn’t, had you?’

‘No,’ he admitted.

‘Then why the hell did you say it?’

‘I wasn’t so sure of you then, Ellen. I wanted to be certain you’d come back again. I thought you’d be intrigued, knowing I had a dark side.’

I left the bungalow, slamming the front door behind me.

And found Cara Reece waiting by the garden gate.

‘You’ve seen Eddie?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’

‘And is it true, what he told me?’

‘I don’t know what he told you,’ I said curtly, ‘so I don’t know whether it’s true or not.’

‘Eddie said you were going to get married.’

‘Me? To him? You’ve got to be joking.’

‘So you’re not?’