But anyway, the experience made me cautious. I’d moved the freezer from the cabin to the summer house when I’d realized that Megan was planning to disappear and become Leah permanently; I couldn’t risk her getting rid of the body and losing my advantage. But the dodgy electrics in the summer house had been making me nervous and the further we went with this, with Tom being arrested, the more I figured Megan might actually crack and do something stupid. Like confess to murdering Leah. So I’d found a better home for the freezer and checked it every few days, just to be sure. So once Megan was flat out on her back, snoring that strange snuffle both twins were guilty of, I crept out of the flat in my jogging gear. Thankfully there wasn’t a curfew here, so jogging in the middle of the night could be explained by night working if anyone thought to question me. Not that they did; the streets were dead. Besides, I was only going one street back. To the garage of my poor old neighbor who hadn’t been able to leave the house since all this COVID stuff began. Who was probably right now being ministered to by that beautiful diminutive wife of his who counted the days until he passed on and she could live again.

Yasmin was thrilled when I told her I’d make sure to jog past the garage on my daily runs, to make sure that everything was all in order. “A weight off my mind,” she had said, patting my hand and offering me another slice of cake. “And any time you just need some space,” she had added, “feel free to go there. There’s an old sofa and a power socket if you want to plug in a radio or something. I know it’s not easy living so closely with someone at the moment. I promise I wouldn’t dream of disturbing you.”

I had grinned at her and thanked her for being a lifesaver. “Is it bad to want time away from my spouse occasionally?” I had wondered out loud.

“Not at all. I would give anything for it.” At that moment, her husband had rung the little bell he used to let her know she was required. “Duty calls,” she had said as she stood up.

Although I am in my running gear, I am instead sitting on the slightly moldy sofa and eating a bag of tortilla chips. With Yasmin’s blessing I have created myself a bit of a haven in this cavernous space. The garage would be big enough for two large cars, but Yasmin’s husband has a small Aygo that takes up less than one third of the floor area. She told me he used to have a Bentley—an old one mind—and a Mercedes for a while, until his business hit a rough patch and he had to sell it.

The rest of the space is more than big enough for the humming chest freezer, raised off the floor on a pallet to make sure it doesn’t overheat. That’s a really common flaw with chest freezers, overheating and melting the wiring. I won’t take the risk. The sofa faces away from it. I mean, I can’t exactly relax looking at the freezer in which the body of my dead lover lies, can I?