When the story comes out she and Tom will end up spending the rest of their lives stacking supermarket shelves. They’ll never have a beautiful home again, never have a comfortable life. They’re going to have to scratch and scrimp for the rest of their lives. Everything she’s worked so hard to rebuild will be destroyed as soon as the story goes live. And it’s all Geraldine Rotheram’s fault.

She can’t ask the woman to leave because she’s got no proof. Well, she could, but that won’t change anything. She’ll still have her story. She’ll still destroy Kate’s life.

Think Kate, think. She rests her forehead on the cool painted wall. How can she turn this around? How can she stop Geraldine from filing her story?

How can she make her just disappear?

Chapter 27

Now

FRAN

Fran pauses in the doorway of the small room and glances around; not that there’s much to look at – just two armchairs, facing each other, with a low table separating them. On the table there’s a box of tissues, a jug of water and two glasses. And that’s it, other than a couple of bland landscapes on the walls and a small wooden dish on the window sill. Oh, and Tom, sitting in one of the armchairs with a banal smile on his face. She remembers her mother’s last text – If you haven’t got the truth out of that man yet I’ll get Dad to wheel me onto a train to Wales and I’ll do it myself – and steels herself.

‘Hello, Geraldine.’ Tom rests his hands on the arms of the chair and makes a half-hearted attempt at rising, but doesn’t actually stand. Fran feels a prickle of irritation. Gentlemanly behaviour doesn’t impress her – she largely finds it antiquated and patronising – but there’s a place for good manners in society. She opens doors for everyone, regardless of their gender, and expects the same courtesy in return. But Tom’s attempt to acknowledge her presence was so decidedly lacklustre she’d rather he hadn’t bothered at all.

‘Hello, Tom.’ She takes the seat opposite him, perches on the edge and looks at her watch. The session is tabled to last an hour but she’s hoping she can be in and out in fifteen minutes. Caroline was insistent that she attend, in case Tom let anything slip about Jenna, but Fran isn’t hopeful. If their last discussion was anything to go on he’ll probably burst into tears the moment she mentions her sister’s name.

‘How are you?’ Tom sits forward, his brow creased with concern. ‘I wasn’t sure I’d see you this afternoon, not after what happened earlier.’

Fran waves a dismissive hand through the air. ‘It was an early bath.’

‘It must have been scary, not being able to get to the surface.’