‘We could lower the price.’

‘Already?’ Craig looked at Sam, his wife, and felt a surge of protective emotions. She looked wan and older, weighted by worry. He had been working so hard in the last couple of weeks that these problems at home had not been dealt with. They had to move away from Trish. It was only money after all, nothing compared to Sam’s happiness.

‘I’m going to see Trish right now, Sam. And before I go to see Colin, I’m going to fit some chicken wire over the outside of that window, so Napoleon can’t get in.’ He imagined Sam, bent over on hands and knees wiping up cat puke, seeing her with one hand on her tummy.

‘Don’t lose your temper with her, Craig. You know how nasty and devious she can be.’

He marched across the road to Trish’s bungalow. One of her cats was sitting on top of her wheelie bin. He rang the doorbell, long and hard, and noticed the twitch of net curtains to the right of the door. It was a full minute before the front door was opened, as far as the security chain would allow. Trish was sitting in a wheelchair, something she had never required in the past.

‘What’s with the chair?’ Craig asked.

‘I had a fall yesterday, and my back’s in agony. I rang the taxi to go to the hospital, but they said they couldn’t take wheelchairs in the cab.’ She looked at him beseechingly. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to get there.’

He had to hand it to her. She could turn the tables on him in no time flat. He could hardly lambast her in these circumstances, but equally he was damned if he was going to ferry her to the hospital for some imagined ailment.

‘Sam’s lost the baby,’ he said. Trish’s hands shot to her face, covering nose and mouth. Her eyes watered. ‘She was clearing up after one of your cats when it happened,’ he continued. Yes, see how you like it.

‘Oh, that’s a wicked accusation to make.’

‘It’s not an accusation, it’s a fact. I’m not saying that one caused the other.’

‘Then why mention it?’

Chapter 23

Gillard arrived at Redhill Hospital, still pretending that the main reason he was there was to go and see Hodges. He opened the boot and set up Trish’s wheelchair, which he moved around to the front passenger door. She stared up at him until he realised she wanted him to lift her into the chair. He did so with bad grace. He’d much rather have been with Sam, nurturing a woman he loved – a woman who really had suffered a medical emergency. Conversation in the car about cats and access had been equally difficult. It had ended with Craig threatening to kill any of her animals that either fouled his garden or house. He regretted saying it almost immediately.

‘Just let me know if they have done their business inside or out and I promise I shall come round to clean it up for you,’ she said. Trish knew that neither he nor Sam would allow her into the house under any circumstances.