I didn’t tell her about the times I’d try to fool him. I always parked in different spots in the office car park, to confuse him. He seemed to think I should be doing roughly the same steps each day. I could tell he was comforted if the figures matched his expectations. A few weeks ago I gave the Fitbit to Harry, who put it in his pocket when he was going to a meeting in Manchester; he knew he’d walk for a couple of miles. He told me he’d gone up and down the stairs several times instead of using the lift, just so that the figures would be skewed. That was after I’d told him about it, of course. When I knew I was leaving. He’d been horrified and wanted me to throw it away, but by then I just wanted to hand it back to Tom when I left. He’d know what I meant.

“Honestly,” said Sarah, “you’re reading too much into that. He’s just trying to keep you healthy. Anything else he’s supposed to have done?”

I bristled. “It would take too long to tell you. Maybe another time.” I couldn’t have coped if she’d told me that she thought his behavior was normal. I’d spent years being told one thing but believing another. I couldn’t bear her telling me that Tom was right all along.

“Okay,” she said. She reached out and touched my arm. “Things will be all right. Once there’s a buyer for your house, I’ll come with you and look for someplace of your own.”

I smiled, relieved. “I’d love that. I’m not sure where I’m going to move to, though.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll help you.”

“Sarah,” I said. “I hate to ask you this, but will you give Harry a letter from me? Or ask him to call me?”

From her expression I could tell she really didn’t want to. “Can’t you send him an e-mail?”

“I’m worried one of the tech guys might see it. And I don’t want to text in case Emma sees it.”

She hesitated. “I don’t really want to get involved, but yes, okay. Send it to me and I’ll make sure he gets it. He’s back at work on Monday.”

“And you’ll ask him to call me?”

“Yes.” She drank some wine, then leaned forward and gave me a hug. “Of course I will.”

CHAPTER 19

Ruby

I spent most of the weekend alone, just me and a notepad and pen, trying to write a letter to Harry. It was hard to write, imagining his expression as he read it.