But she wasn’t finished with Kyle.

In fact she had hardly begun.

Chapter Twenty-two

Vanessa Perry was fizzing with excitement. It was five p.m. and she was standing by the Thai Airways check-in desk at Manchester Airport. It had been an epic journey to get there, by taxi and several trains, and had made a hefty dent in her cash. She had picked up all the clothing he had ordered for her from John Lewis in Manchester, including the big white suitcase with her wedding dress in. She could hardly keep still, even though the flight didn’t leave until 20.50. She had dutifully messaged him at eleven, once she was on the train to Manchester. He had messaged her back quickly, but did not respond to her subsequent texts. She had been shocked when he had struck her earlier that day, but having thought it through it was simply a measure of the depth of his passion for her, and his disappointment that she could not quite match his standards of organisation and planning. She would just have to try harder. Even what he did to her in sex, when he liked to press her throat hard with both hands until she almost fainted, she realised was just another form of love. When she had first mentioned it to Becky, her friend had said that it was supposed to make the pleasure more intense, and porn stars did it all the time. It must be normal, so she would just have to get used to it, to surrender to his power.

She cleared her mind of these minor worries. Just a few hours and she would be in his arms again. From her new Louis Vuitton handbag, she took out the small jewellery box, and slid off the tight-fitting lid. She stared at the beautiful ring within, the big sparkly diamond he had bought her, much larger than the measly thing her dad had given Mel. Surely it would do no harm to put the ring on now? Kyle wouldn’t mind. She slid out the ring and carefully placed it on her engagement finger.

Feeling like a different woman, and full of the joy of love, she looked around the busy check-in desks for signs of her lover approaching. He’d told her he’d booked them both business class tickets, which had presumably cost loads. She could hardly wait to get her glass of champagne, the proper meal with cloth napkins and the real cutlery that someone who travels in style should feel entitled to. Her dreams really were coming true.

She was still standing there at six o’clock. None of her texts had been answered, and the queue for economy had begun to form. She smiled away her anxiety, telling herself that there was still plenty of time. He was busy, obviously, a bit under stress. The papers were full of stories about dead bodies, and then this evening’s Manchester Evening News had mentioned his name in connection with the inquiry. She had no idea how anyone could deal with the kind of cloak and dagger life that he had to live. She passed the time by looking at her ring from various angles, watching it sparkle, and thinking about the life in Thailand that they would have together. But as the minutes passed, and Kyle didn’t show, she began to rehearse various disappointment scenarios: He’s annoyed with me over the late arrival with the car. He’s upset because I keep messaging him. He’s not managed to find the big red suitcase. He’s been arrested by the police or MI5. That would be awful, but for her it was not the worst fear. That was a much more personal one: