‘Dahling, how lovely to see you,’ said Chloe, masking her surprise, thinking that Shauna looked like a drowned rat and one side of her face was vivid red, like she’d been slapped or something. The rain was torrential. Shauna must be demented, driving about in this weather.

‘I thought we could talk over the seating plan for Friday night,’ said Shauna, her movements jittery. She walked ahead of Chloe into the lovely lounge with its purple-and-gold colour scheme. Easy to see a redhead lived here.

‘The seating plan? Yes of course,’ said Chloe. ‘But I thought . . . with Josh going like he did, I’m sorry, I should have phoned you, but I thought you’d be so upset still . . .’

‘I’m fine,’ said Shauna, walking over to the big picture window and looking out over the expanse of striped green lawn and down to the river. When she and Josh had lived next door, their view had been practically identical to this one. Then she focused, frowning. There was something big and yellow moving down there. The loud hum of motors penetrated the double glazing.

‘Oh, I see you’ve noticed,’ said Chloe, coming to stand beside her. ‘It’s most inconvenient,’ she tutted. ‘So noisy. And the smell when the mud comes up! I tell you, I can’t even go out in the garden, it’s unbearable.’

‘What . . . ?’ Shauna was aware of her own heartbeat, very fast and painfully heavy in her chest. Her head was humming. She wondered if she was going to be vomit, or pass out. She watched the men, watched the machine. ‘Oh Jesus,’ she said.

‘I suppose they had to do it eventually, because of the flooding,’ said Chloe. ‘Nearly left it too late, didn’t they? It’s been raining non-stop this past fortnight. Now at long last they’re dredging the river.’

154

154

Connor went back to his flat. He couldn’t eat, he felt too keyed-up. He phoned Benedict, told him what had happened in the park and told him to keep an eye on Aysha.

Fucking Mum.

His sister could have been banged up right now and destined for a life in Holloway if their mother’s poison had done its work. He made tea, and then sat there and thought of Suki. Pale hair, long legs, eyes that could break a man’s heart. All right, he’d followed her back to the hotel because . . . she fascinated him. Because she was stunning. And because . . . he wanted her. He wanted her in bed, just as soon as he could get her there. If he could get her there. Which seemed pretty damned unlikely, given the circumstances. But first, he had things to do.

He’d heard so many conflicting stories these last few days, it was hard to know what to believe. Time he went looking for answers.

He picked up his keys and went back out to the Porsche.