They were heading south, then. Brighton, maybe. He had often mentioned Brighton. Perhaps he had another house down there, on the beach, where he could hide her again, although now the police knew it was him, she thought – hoped – they would find him pretty quickly.

Or maybe it was something else entirely. She looked at him in the driver’s seat. He was gripping the steering wheel tightly, his face brooding and serious. From time to time he muttered something and hit the dashboard. He seemed lost, almost totally deranged.

Inhuman, almost.

She felt the panic start to rise and closed her eyes. Whatever else, she had to think clearly. Eventually she would find out what he was planning to do, and she needed to be able to act.

It was her only chance.

So that fucking bitch ruined everything.

I can’t stop thinking about what she has done, and all I want to do is turn round and put my hands around her throat and squeeze until she’s gone.

That bitch.

She let me down. I gave her everything and she threw it back in my face.

So she will die. But I have to kill her in a special way. Otherwise everyone will know I did all this for nothing. They’ll think I’m weak and foolish and I thought she loved me, but she never did. I will not allow her to humiliate me that way.

How did I get it so wrong? It’s like my mother all over again. I trusted her, did everything for her, and she turned me away. Turned my world upside down.

That’s what betrayal does.

And now Annabelle has done to me what my mother did, and so I will do to her what I did to my mother.

My mind clears. I feel myself smile. It’s as though I am coming back into myself after a long journey away.

I’m me again.

And I didn’t get it wrong. I was right all along. She sent me those messages. She loved me.

But something changed. She lost her nerve. In the final analysis, she was unable to go through with it. She is too weak.

Not me. Her.

So, she deserves the death I will deal to her. She led me to this and now she thinks she can just walk away? No.

And it will, as it always does, calm me. Which will be welcome.

But still, there is nothing left for me now. If I kill her, that will be the story. I’ll escape – I have no doubt about that – but they’ll think I was a fool who thought she loved me and had it all thrown back in my face.

And I cannot bear to live knowing they think that.

So I will set the record straight. The world will know the truth that I want it to.

And I know just how to make that happen.

Annabelle