Two months after the official suicide verdict they had a small memorial for Jenna in a little church in their parents’ village, but only a handful of people turned up, bunched up together in the first few pews. It felt wrong for Jenna’s life to be reduced to something so small – a handful of words, half a dozen bent heads and then tea and sandwiches in a local pub.

Fran dries her hands then lies back down on her bed. She gets up again, almost immediately. She can’t do it. She can’t sleep. And she certainly can’t drive back to London with so many questions unanswered. The only option left to her now is to disclose her true identity to Damian and see if that guilts him into telling her exactly what happened to Jenna and why.

Fran pads down the corridor, her slippered feet stepping lightly on the floorboards, her dressing gown belted tightly at her waist. Normally, she’d never dream of waking someone up at this hour, but needs must. And besides, there’s a chance some of the house might still be up, given the amount of noise that seeped under her bedroom door for a good hour after she turned in.

As she reaches the bottom of the stairs, low voices drift down from the first floor and she stops to listen.

‘Now Kate’s gone I can tell you …’ Renata says clearly then she lowers her voice and Fran misses the rest.

‘No,’ Tom says. ‘That can’t be true.’

‘Sssh. It is.’

‘Jenna’s alive? I can’t believe it.’

Fran grips the banister.

‘Tom, please, keep your voice down or you’ll …’ Renata fades out again.

‘So where is she?’

‘My parents’ holiday home.’

‘Where’s that?’

‘Abersoch. I’ll take you but …’

Fran screws up her face, trying to make out the rest of the sentence but the only words she catches are, ‘no police’.

‘Fine. Whatever. Can we just go?’

‘Okay. Wait for me by my car … black Range Rover. I’ll just grab a few things.’

As the floorboards creak above her, Fran takes off. She hurries into her room, grabs her car keys from the bedside table and clambers out of the window. By the time Tom has put on his shoes and his coat and stepped out of the house, Fran’s already halfway up the path.

Chapter 44

Now

KATE