I hadn’t told Alex that Jeremy was coming, or even that he existed. Keeping secrets was so ingrained in me now, a habit natural as breathing. Alex had not been in touch since I left his flat early the day before. I told myself that was right, that he needed to take care of Sam, but all the same my hand kept straying to my phone, only to see the screen blank. I was angry at myself, waiting for someone to get in touch, wanting something I couldn’t have. I had tried for so long not to want anything.

I’d made a lasagne for dinner. It wasn’t anything special, but Jeremy was touchingly enthusiastic about it. He lived off ready meals most of the time, eaten with one hand on his mouse, always clicking and scrolling. I’d often wondered what drove people like him, the true-crime enthusiasts, the murder ghouls. Was it the thrill of the unsolved, of never quite knowing? It was because of people like them that my past would always hang over me, unless the Mary Poppins Murders case – and even that name was so callous – was solved one day, and I knew it never would be.

We ate sitting at the table, and I even lit a candle to clear the cooking smell, then wondered was that a mistake. Candles are romantic, after all, and he might get the wrong idea. I poured red wine and it was all very civilised. You would never have known I was possibly facing the second murder charge of my life.

Jeremy was scrawling with one hand on a big pad of paper. I had never seen him eat a meal without doing something else at the same time.

‘So it’s someone who got into this house and put your name on the fridge. Maybe with a key?’ He looked about him, frowned. ‘It’s not that secure, Case, anyone could get through that lock if they knew the first thing about picks.’ A slip – my old name. I looked at him across the table until he realised what he’d said. ‘Oh God, sorry. But it’s just us. You leave your windows open too?’ The windows here were old and wide – a person could easily climb through them.

‘Yeah, if it’s hot. For Brandy.’ Brandy was in the kitchen, in a huff. Jeremy had tried his best with her, but he was asthmatic and not a dog person. One of the many reasons I’d left him.

‘So someone could get in that way,’ he said. ‘Do you still leave a key outside too?’