When he woke in the morning, Maddy was already up. He washed and joined her downstairs.

‘Morning.’ She laid a knife and fork on the table.

‘You all right then?’ He pressed himself against her and fingered her hair.

She pecked his unshaven face. ‘I don’t usually…’

He shrugged. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘I’ve never…’

‘There’s a spark between us, end of.’

‘You could say that.’ She smiled, her face pink. ‘Those bruises on your back… your legs…’ Her nose wrinkled.

‘A nasty fall.’ He half smiled, remembering the sharp kicks as he’d curled himself into a ball.

She poured him a mug of tea and laid his breakfast on the table.

‘Perfect. Now, is there anything you need doing before I start the serious business of painting walls?’

‘Actually, there are a couple of things.’

He scoffed down his breakfast and wiped the plate with toast.

‘Do you mind?’ He pushed his plate away and waggled a packet of Rothmans.

She shook her head.

He lit one and tipped his head back, blowing smoke up to the ceiling which was already tar-stained.

‘Mum’s furniture needs dumping – bed, mattress, armchair. I’m sorry, I don’t really have anyone close by to ask.’

‘I offered, didn’t I?’ He hooked his arm round the back of his chair. She had no clue how naturally beautiful and damn sexy she was. He liked that.

Her face reddened again as though she’d read his mind. He winked at her and couldn’t help but smile; he was falling completely under her spell and he liked it a lot.

Chapter Thirteen

Maddy: Early October 2019

On Saturday morning, Emily falls asleep as they approach Huntingdon. It’s been a clear run of an hour and a half from Uxbridge. Maddy couldn’t sleep all night, thinking over what she should do. She thought about writing a letter, but it would be too easy for him to ignore it or she could be waiting for weeks. She needs to know now. She drinks a mouthful of coffee from a flask. In a folder tucked in the footwell are Adam Hawkins’s bank statements. What if he won’t answer her questions? She’ll have to come right out and ask him what dealings he’s had with Max. She decides it’s best to watch the house for a while and gauge the situation before she makes a move.

Maddy pulls into the quiet village. Number twenty-nine, Lawn End. Ivy hangs over an upstairs window like a patch covering a lazy eye. The front door is at the side, with the driveway running the whole length of the house to the garage. A blue Nissan is parked outside. She spots the number plate. That’s Max’s old car he sold two years ago. Who is this man?