I felt my body shrink away from him. I picked up the spoon, running it through the bubbling sauce.

‘She was as dull as ever,’ I said. ‘But she did admit that Amber’s seen a lot of those St Johns girls. Called her a “strong character”. And…’ I was hesitant about the next part, but before I’d eked out any words, Nick was crossing to the fridge, pulling out an open bottle of Sancerre.

‘That means there’ll be others, Lily! All we need is to get some of those families corroborating the manipulation, and we’re back in business to get her for coercion.’ He let a torrent of wine waterfall into his glass. ‘I was thinking we should look at getting a private detective onto her, and I’ve definitely found us the right lawyer. She’s a fucking bulldog by all reports.’

I was desperately grateful for his energy – for the slipstream it created, sweeping us forward – but I was barely listening to the plan he was laying out. I kept thinking about what Deborah had said: she already knew who you were. Something stopped me confiding what she’d said to my husband, some sixth sense as to where this was taking us. I picked up my phone, googled Amber’s website, even though the mere sight of her made me cringe. I held it out to him.

‘You don’t recognize her, do you?’

He batted it away, grimacing. ‘I’ve seen quite enough of that fucking woman’s ugly mug the last few weeks.’

He pulled a ridiculous ‘listening face’, a parody of hers, which would have made me giggle in a parallel universe. As it was, I could barely remember the last time I’d laughed.

‘Not from the website! I mean – you don’t think we knew her, do you?’

I stared at my phone, transfixed by Amber’s photograph. The cobalt-blue eyes, the half-smile that played across her rosy lips. The barely-there make-up that made her look simultaneously beautiful and wholesome. That agelessness of hers had always unnerved me, and it did so more than ever now. It provided cover.

‘I’ve never clapped eyes on her, Lily.’ Nick kissed me again. ‘Just stop thinking about her, okay? Let’s just try to have a nice evening. I think you need a top up.’

As he reached for the bottle, I kept staring at her picture. How could it be that she was familiar and unfamiliar all at once? Was it just my fevered mind, playing horrible tricks on me?

Or was it something far, far worse?

RACHEL

I studied Amber’s face, waiting for her next move, my heartbeat reverberating through my whole body. She took her time.

‘What I’ve known about you, since the first day we met, is how bright you are,’ she said eventually.

‘Thank you,’ I said uncertainly.