I huddle down under the duvet, drawing it round my neck for comfort. Where was I going before the seizure put paid to my plans? I’d have rung Mum and Dad, wouldn’t I? It’s the first thing I’d have thought of doing. I can just imagine Dad’s fury with Ross for deceiving me. I might be twenty-five but he still thinks of me as his little girl. I dread to think what he’ll do when he finds out.

But I can’t have spoken to them, or left a message, because if Dad thought for one second that I was in danger, he’d have booked them on the first flight home. I know he would. And then he’d have driven me home to Dovercourt. My eyes fill with tears as I think of him. Dad will sort this out. I know he will. He and Mum might not have been entirely honest with me about their friendship with the Dawsons, but that’s nothing compared to what’s happening here.

Something clicks at the back of my mind. Home. Dovercourt. Mum and Dad’s house. Of course! I still have the key! I don’t have to wait till they come home from New York. Was that the conclusion I reached yesterday?

At last, the panic in my chest starts to subside. I have a plan. Somewhere to go. I only have to stay here long enough to regain my strength. I’ll leave tonight, when Ross is asleep. I’ll be safe if he thinks I don’t know about him and Catherine, or that my seizure has made me forget.

I just have to pretend for a little while longer.

49

The room is almost dark when I wake up. It takes me a few seconds to remember where I am and what’s happened. Catherine must be home from work. She’s in the living room with Ross. I can just make out the faint murmur of their voices over the TV. The thought of the two of them down there, while I’m in bed, woozy and defenseless, nauseates me.

Wait a minute. She’s supposed to have moved out. She has moved out. So why is she downstairs?

I get up, slowly and carefully. I feel raw and tender, the discomfort in my body mirroring the anguish in my head. The shock of betrayal. The anger. The fear.

I need to act normally. Prove to them that nothing is different. That I’m not in the least bit scared. Because if they did look in that rucksack, or I left something out in the study, if they have the slightest whiff of suspicion that I was intending to leave, I’ll be in real danger if they think I still remember.