She glared at him. ‘You and your creepy friends.’ She jabbed her phone at him as if it was a lethal weapon. He flinched. She carried on with her rant. ‘I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but someone sent a video of me and two different men to my husband.’ She registered his shock, and nodded. ‘That’s right, two men, strangers, and they were… they were molesting me, and Matt’s thrown me out.’ Her chest was heaving, her head bursting with rage as tears started to fall, thickening her voice. ‘And the only person who could have anything to do with it is you.’

James blew out his cheeks, tugged at his beard, clearly lost for words. ‘That’s… Oh my God, that’s terrible.’ He looked properly concerned. ‘If you need somewhere to stay while you sort everything out, you’re always welcome at my house, you know.’

Did he just say that?

‘You’re not listening,’ she snapped. ‘I know this is you, I know it. You and your shady bloody deal.’

He put up a hand as if to defend himself, eyes wide. ‘Now just hold on a minute. You can’t think I’d do anything to harm you, Sara. I…’ He stopped himself, looked at the ground. ‘You know I’m very fond of you.’ He sounded genuine, and a ripple of doubt ran through her mind. His eyes met hers. ‘Look, without seeing the video, I still don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not sure I heard you right. You said two men? You were filmed with two men?’ There was a look of pure disbelief on his face. ‘And you’re sure it was you?’

‘Yes, it was me. I have a tattoo on my thigh. There’s no mistaking it.’

He started pacing the floor, clearly agitated, his hands opening and closing. ‘Christ, Sara, I don’t know what to say. Honestly, you’d think a hotel like that would be safe, wouldn’t you? I heard a similar incident on the news, but that was London. You’d think in the Yorkshire countryside…’ He stopped and turned to her. ‘Did you recognise either of them? Could they be members of staff?’ He stopped pacing. ‘Shouldn’t we go to the police?’

There was nothing in his demeanour to suggest guilt, only shock and anger, and she started to wonder if she’d been jumping to conclusions. But he’s the common denominator, she reassured herself. He took me to that hotel. Ah, but that doesn’t mean he was involved, said a voice in her mind.

She remembered the news story James was referring to, a woman who’d been drugged and raped in a hotel and it turned out to be one of the housekeeping staff. Isn’t that a possibility? Her resolve wavered. Had she wrongly accused James when he’d been nothing but lovely to her?