Next, she plugged in her laptop and opened up a word document. She had promised her boss that she’d have the review to him by that evening and she needed to get it sent off within the next couple of hours if she was to stand any chance of being paid this month.

Conmere House, Sunday, 12 May, 5.10 p.m.

Steph spent the next two hours tapping away at the keyboard and putting together an article her boss would be able to upload onto the Vacation Staycation website and a shorter version he could push out to other online places. She also needed to find out if Harry was going to buy any of her photos, otherwise she’d get in touch with her friend Ria to see if she could put any in her gallery.

Once everything was completed, Steph leaned back on the sofa and let out a whoop. All done and – she checked her watch – well within the deadline. She rolled her shoulders and then her neck; both felt stiff and she wasn’t sure if it was from the car accident earlier or from being hunched over the laptop on her bed. A nice walk to clear her head and to loosen up her joints would do her the power of good, she decided, but before that she wanted to take a quick look at the notebook Sonia had given her.

Steph made herself comfortable on her bed and began flicking slowly through the pages. On some of them Elizabeth had jotted down a date, her writing bold and rounded with long tails and carefree dashes. Steph was no handwriting expert but the fluid and confident strokes across the page didn’t give her the impression that Elizabeth was a shrinking violet. Her handwriting appeared to match up with the picture of Harry’s wife she was now building in her mind.

Steph looked closely at the dated pages and realized these were the weeks leading up to her death. Surely, she wouldn’t have given it to Sonia unless it held significant information and maybe something that someone else didn’t want to be revealed. There must be something in amongst all the notes, the names, the phone numbers and the things to do that was important. Steph spent the next twenty minutes scouring through the pages. Elizabeth Sinclair had seemed to live her life by appointments at the hairdressers’, the spa and dinner dates, the latter usually with Harry.

Steph drummed her fingers on the notebook. Sonia was convinced it was important and that someone was trying to get their hands on it. That made sense to Steph in light of what had happened on the road with the 4x4.