The coincidence hadn’t been seeing Greg in Kennington. It was seeing him at that exact moment, when she, Kate, was walking along the road. And he hadn’t even questioned the unlikeliness of that happening. Her phone was still in her hand. The phone Greg had given to her. Was he able to track her? The hairs went up on her arms. It meant he knew she’d been to Adam’s flat that morning. He knew she’d been to Anguilla, not the Bahamas. God, he’d known every single one of her movements for weeks.

More madness. An overactive imagination?

They were almost at the roundabout that led onto the bridge. The first exit. Only a couple more minutes and he’d drop her off.

‘The press release is in the glove compartment,’ said Greg. ‘Help yourself.’

She looked down and clicked open the hatch. Sure enough, inside was a folded sheet of paper. She opened it to see a printed-off press release on corporate headed paper. As she looked up again, she just noticed they’d passed the turn to the bridge.

‘What the . . .?’ she started. ‘You’ve missed the turning!’

‘It was gridlocked,’ said Greg, with a smile. ‘Taking another route.’

She took this in, panic tightening in a ball in her stomach. Then an awful thought struck her. What if he isn’t taking me to Westminster? She almost cried out then, a small gurgling noise, a sound of fear. What is he going to do with me?

They drove on in silence, Kate’s mind racing out of control. A drop of sweat rolled down the side of her face and she resisted the urge to wipe it away.

They were moving away from the river now, in the opposite direction. Did Greg just glance at her bag that was resting at her feet? Rigid, she forced herself not to touch it.

Now they were heading towards Elephant and Castle. In a few minutes, they’d be on the A3, a faster road that would take them out of London. Where is he going?

She looked across at him, at his smooth, expensive suit, his air of supreme confidence, and was filled with a sudden clarity. He was a man who gave himself permission to do whatever he liked, whose motivation was power and excessive riches at the expense of others, who refused to tolerate anyone getting in his way. This was the man who had had her daughter killed. He’d taken away the only person who had really mattered to her.

Kate was suddenly consumed with revulsion and hatred. A black rage spread through her. She grabbed hold of the steering wheel and spun it hard to the right.

‘What the . . .?’ started Greg as the car swerved across the road but he was silenced by an almighty crunch as his car smashed into a parked van. The deafening blare of alarms rang out.

Get out of the car!

Kate started fumbling for the seat-belt catch, it gave way, snaked its way back into the roller and she was free. Greg looked at her then, and in that split second she knew it was all true.