Ideally he would have waited until the middle of the night, but in some ways any noise at that time would be more incriminating. If Angie Wright heard any kind of disturbance, given that they’d already had a car stolen, she would be sure to ring the police. Instead, he drove up at 9.15 p.m. and reversed the Polo right up the drive, almost to the front door. Neither the Range Rover nor the white Merc were there. He got out, wearing an old high-vis jacket, boots and a woollen hat pulled low. He quietly flipped open the blue lid of the recycling bin, saw it was satisfyingly full of paperwork, and laid the bin gently on its side. He fitted a black bin bag over the mouth of the bin, and tipped it. He scrunched up the mouth of the bag, checked the bin was empty, tossed the bin bag in the boot of his car, and then drove away to his own home.

Anxious to avoid being disturbed, he took the bin bag to his shed. Mel and Vanessa avoided this spider-infested place, which suited him just fine. He used a bundle of old newspapers to dry the correspondence he had found in the skip. Among these he found a jiffy bag, in which were a series of handwritten envelopes addressed to Halliday’s address at the unit. The writing was familiar. It looked a bit like Mel’s. He pulled out a Valentine’s card. When he saw what was inside, he gasped.

No, it couldn’t be.

This was too cruel. He couldn’t bear it.

Chapter Eighteen

Dearest Kyle,

It is only a few months since we met, when you so sweetly gave me a lift in the rain after my bike had a puncture. I still recall that dark cold January evening, in which your lovely hazel eyes and that huge handsome smile were the only warmth. How you took me out for coffee, how you ran your fingers through my damp hair. There is something so nurturing and caring about you, which makes me so happy to give my heart and body to you. You have taken me to places that I didn’t know existed, done things to me that I didn’t know could be done to a woman. My body was just fizzing with happiness all day afterwards! You told me not to worry that you are married, and when I hear how she has treated you, I understand. I know that I am much younger, but I think I understand you in the way that she doesn’t. I can give you the care and the love that she won’t. I’m so grateful that you came into my life and together we can change the world.

God, I can’t wait to see you! Until Friday!

Van xxx

The next card he picked up was earlier, dated 30 January.

Dearest Kyle,

I do understand why you don’t want me to text or ring you. I hope you don’t mind me saying but your wife sounds like an absolute witch. I would have thought you could get a secret phone, where I could ring you as you travel, but if it’s too risky, I accept that. You’re the telecoms expert, after all. And for me, it’s really great to actually sit in the college library writing love letters to you just like people did fifty years ago. By the way, I have never mentioned you to my parents (obviously), but my mum mentioned your name. You did a really good job on her phone. Really good customer service, apparently. Small world!

All my love

Van xxxx