I get up, walk over to the side and pull out the jar of teabags. As I’m taking the lid off, my wrist knocks the coffee jar. I go to grab it with my spare hand, and send it skittering across the surface, before it sails off the edge and smashes on the tile floor.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. This day is not getting any better. There’s ceramic shards and coffee everywhere, and I daren’t even take a step back in case I get glass embedded in my foot.

I look down at the mess on the floor, the coffee granules having coated the entire kitchen floor. They’re under the fridge, under the washing machine, everywhere. The shattered red ceramic stands out boldly against the scattered coffee granules, the creamy white insides of the china now visible for the first time. And that’s when my eye is caught by something sparkling, glittering amongst the mess.

I bend down to get a closer look, and I notice something purple in there too. My eyes widen as I realise what it is. There’s no mistaking it. It’s an amethyst necklace.

37

By now I’m shaking. There’s absolutely no doubt this is Nan’s missing necklace. I’d recognise it anywhere. But how the hell did it end up in my coffee jar?

The immediate assumption is it must have been Tom. Just like Mum and Dad suspected. But he’s never been to Nan’s house. He doesn’t even know where she lived. So there’s no way it could have been him. It can’t have been Mum and Dad, because they wouldn’t have taken it and hidden it there. In any case, it’s only me who uses the coffee pot when they come over. And they were the ones asking me where it had gone. They seemed really upset about it.

It makes no sense. Something isn’t right. Things aren’t adding up. Everything seems to be falling away from me. Just when I thought it was going perfectly, the dominoes are starting to topple. Everything is crashing down around me, and I don’t know why.

Did I go to Nan’s house? Yes, quite a few times. I was there a few days before she died. But there’s no way she wouldn’t have noticed it missing if it had been taken at that point. Her dementia hadn’t got to that point, had it? I didn’t notice that it had. And anyway, there’s no way I’d have taken it and then forgotten about it, is there? But there’s the haziness over what happened last night. The email to Matilda. Cath’s blocked number. The email from Tom’s ex. All of those incidents are frightening the life out of me. Why are there bits I can’t remember? Why do I have blanks? Why can’t I find that email now?

I take the piece of paper out of my pocket and look at it again. Jess Caton. Her words coming flooding back to me again. And that’s when I remember the other bit: Devon and Cornwall Police. This is something to do with Tom. It’s somehow connected with his life in Cornwall. His life before me. There’s something there, and I need to know what it is. And there’s only one way I’m going to be able to find out.