I want to ask her more questions, but she is like a deer – slender, beautiful, with those great big eyes that seem frightened into flight by the slightest movement. So I wait.

‘We’re not supposed to talk about it.’

‘Okay,’ I say again. ‘But do you want to talk about it?’

She shakes her head fiercely, and I can see that whatever happened, it’s tearing her in two.

‘I can’t believe I did it,’ she says. ‘I loved him.’

For a moment I think she is going to tell me a story like my own – except I didn’t love Ian. Did she kill her partner too? I find that hard to believe.

‘I took him. Why would I do that? It doesn’t make any sense to me.’

She starts to cry, and I reach out my hand to hold hers, worried that if I move too close I will scare her.

‘Was this before you came here?’ I ask gently.

‘I came to see Thea. I brought him with me. But then I don’t know what happened. It was all over the papers and the television. Why did I do it? I just don’t know.’

She is sobbing now, and I move a little closer and put my arm around her shoulders.

CHAPTER 41

41

Tom was slouched on the sofa with the same glass of whisky in his hand when Jack returned, letting himself in with the spare key he had found earlier.

‘Louisa gone, then?’ he asked, looking slightly sheepish. ‘Sorry about that. I assumed you would have told her about me, given how serious you seem to be about her. Considering the shock she had, I thought she took it well.’

‘Oh, well that’s okay then. Especially since she’s now gone home to consider whether she wants to be with someone who has been lying to her for months.’

Jack laughed and Tom gave him a dirty look, which he ignored.

‘She’ll be back. Stop worrying. Where do you hide your whisky?’

Tom pointed towards the kitchen. Tossing the oversized beanie hat he had been wearing – an attempt to disguise his unruly black hair, Tom could only assume – onto the sofa, Jack sauntered off. It seemed weird that they hadn’t seen or spoken to each other for so long but had almost immediately reverted to the relationship they’d always had: Jack the cool guy, always in control – or so it seemed – and Tom the one who tried to do the right thing.

‘Why are you here, Jack?’ he asked as his brother returned with the whisky bottle. ‘I’m both delighted and staggered by your presence in my house, but aren’t you worried that someone will spot you?’