“Okay, that’s great. Thanks.” I ended the call before he had time to realize he probably shouldn’t have told me anything, and sat at my desk thinking things over.

She’d left her job on the day that she left home. The day I’d discovered I was pregnant.

I don’t believe in coincidences.

CHAPTER 40

Ruby

That evening I thought I’d go crazy if I stayed in any longer. All I could think about was hearing Emma calling to Harry in their house. His wife, his home. That was his reality now. It always had been. I should have known that. I needed to do something before I had a drink to forget. I knew that wouldn’t work, either. I’d just dwell on it.

I looked out of the open window. The sun was setting and the air was still. I needed to get out. I pulled on my shorts and trainers and ran downstairs. On the floor by the front door was some junk mail and I picked it up to take it out to the recycling bin. I wasn’t expecting any mail; in fact, I didn’t think I’d get anything there at all, as nobody knew where I was living now and all of my bills were paid online. I riffled through the pile as I walked to the bin in the alley. Among the leaflets and flyers was an envelope with my name typed on it. There was no address or stamp; it must have been hand-delivered.

I opened the envelope, thinking the estate agent must have sent a receipt for the deposit I’d paid, though I couldn’t figure out why it had been hand-delivered. Inside the envelope was a card. I pulled it out and frowned.

It was postcard-sized. On one side was a photo. A photo of me. It was taken last summer in my garden at home; I recognized the red halter-neck dress I was wearing. I’d bought it one lunchtime last year for an awards evening for Tom’s work and I’d worn it for his birthday. We’d invited some people round and had a barbecue in the garden. I hadn’t seen this photo before, but I thought it was taken at that party. I was sitting on my own at a table in the garden, with a glass of white wine in my hand. I could see the bubbles in the wine and the glass was frosted with condensation. It looked as though I was midconversation with someone but I couldn’t see who. I was smiling and looked happy. Carefree. I couldn’t remember feeling like that at home, yet that smile looked genuine.