“That’s not mine. It doesn’t belong to anyone in this company.” His voice softened slightly. “I think you’ve been the victim of a hoax. If you hear anything more from them, get back in touch, will you?”

Hot with embarrassment and anger, I thanked him again and ended the call, really glad I hadn’t asked him whether he’d sent me a text from a different phone telling me I’d be sorry if I contacted him again. Then he really would have thought I was mad.

Once again I looked at the e-mail. The e-mail address had Alan’s name and then the company name. I frowned. How could someone create that? It wasn’t as though it was a random Gmail address. So I went online and searched for that company’s website. A white screen appeared, telling me the site couldn’t be reached.

Frustrated, I shut my laptop. Why would someone ask me to interview if they weren’t going to turn up? Why would they use Alan’s name? Was he lying about the e-mail?

I stomped into the kitchen. By now I was starving. In the fridge was a lasagna I’d bought that morning. It didn’t look tempting but I was too hungry to cook something from scratch. I put it into the oven and while I waited, I opened all the windows to let some air in and went back to the unpacking I’d started earlier that day.

The bathroom wasn’t big enough to hold all my toiletries and I took the bulk of them into the bedroom to put into a drawer there. On the bed lay my clothes in piles, just as I’d left them before I went to Manchester, and I started to put them away. When I’d put my T-shirts into the chest of drawers I turned to the bed. Where were my dresses? I closed my eyes and thought of that morning, how I’d laid everything out in piles. I’d put my dresses one on top of the other, straightening out creases as I went in the hope that I wouldn’t have to iron them. I shook my head. I was sure I’d done that. I could remember the feel of the fabric as I stroked the wrinkles away.

I wondered whether I’d taken them into the living room, though couldn’t think why I would have done that. I turned at the doorway to check the bed again, to see if they’d fallen onto the floor. The wardrobe door was standing slightly ajar. Slowly I reached out and opened it wide. All of my dresses were there on hangers, just as I’d planned, swaying in the evening breeze.

CHAPTER 16

Ruby