Josh knew he would never, ever forget Claire – and he hoped she was somewhere fine and well and happy. As to his own life, now Shauna was right – he had to go on with it. So he’d phoned Dave Houghton and said he’d do the job. But he insisted he’d pick the time, and the place. Marbella was out. He wanted to do it here, in this country. He wrestled with his conscience over taking the job, but they needed the money, badly. The bills were piling up fast, red bills, and people had started coming to the door demanding payment. And Shauna never let up about the lifestyle she wanted. So it was up to him to provide for his family, to embrace this new life even if it wasn’t the one he would have chosen, even if he would have been so much happier back at the campsite, with Claire.

Dave had given him a picture of Andrew Meredith and told him that Andrew had a place down in the New Forest, miles off the beaten track, where he often spent weekends. It should be perfect. Josh studied the photo. Andrew was good-looking. Golden-haired, sleek, tanned and with the prosperous patina of wealth all over him.

Discreetly, Josh sussed out Meredith’s place and then parked up well away from it under cover, avoiding the tourist hot spots, the campsites and hotels. He slept in the car overnight and breakfasted on the sandwiches Shauna had cut for him, then watched Andrew take his morning jog and worked out the best spot along the route at which to do it.

He waited out that day and another night, finished up the last of the sandwiches and the last drop of tea in the flask, then took out the holdall. He loaded the sawn-off, and when Andrew came jogging out next morning on to the track through the mist-shrouded scrub and gorse, he followed.

At the chosen point, Andrew paused, hands on knees. Josh could hear him breathing heavily.

‘Hey,’ said Josh.

Andrew turned, half-smiling. Saw the gun. The smile dropped from his face. ‘What . . .’ he started.

Josh fired. The sawn-off took most of Andrew Meredith’s good-looking head away, and his corpse fell back on to the yellow gorse in a shower of dark blood.

Before Andrew even hit the ground, Josh was gone.

53

53

‘How’d it go then, Josh?’ asked Shauna when he came home.

She had the TV news on, and the newscaster was talking in solemn tones about two trains colliding somewhere abroad. Then they started talking about a shooting in the New Forest, the police were looking for leads. He went over and switched it off.

‘Yeah, OK,’ said Josh. He felt dirty, and sick.