Elizabeth let out a screech and tried to grab the phone, but Owen was too quick and moved the glass out of reach, covering the top with his hand. She looked disbelievingly at the phone and could already see the screen had gone blank.

‘You bastard!’ She pulled his hand away and dipped her fingers into the glass, pulling out her phone, which dripped across the bar. Elizabeth wrapped it in a towelling beer mat. ‘You’ve ruined it!’

‘Oh, dear, that’s a shame. I guess the photos won’t be of any use now.’

Elizabeth rushed out to the toilets. Maybe she could dry it under the hand dryer before it did too much damage. ‘For God’s sake!’ There were only paper towels in the ladies’.

Owen was leaning casually against the bar when she came back out, an orange juice in his hand. ‘No joy?’

‘Fuck you.’ Elizabeth grabbed her bags and the dry cleaning. She could kick herself that she didn’t have automatic cloud storage for her photos.

‘Have a nice day, now,’ said Owen.

‘In case you didn’t hear me the first time,’ hissed Elizabeth, her face only inches away from his, ‘fuck. You.’ She spun round and marched out of the pub. He might think he was clever, and he might have got the better of her this time, but this only strengthened her resolve to get what she wanted. She’d think of another way, one that he couldn’t get out of. God help her, she’d die trying before giving up.

Chapter Ten

Conmere, Friday, 10 May, 1.00 p.m.

Steph chose to drive up to Cumbria. Her Fiat 500 didn’t miss a beat as she motored north, but all the same, it was with relief Steph saw the entrance to Conmere Resort Centre. She swung her car through the gates and followed the road, which filtered through trees and eventually opened up to reveal the imposing Edwardian building of Conmere House. Signs indicated that she was to follow the road past the main entrance and to a car park further along. There were already lots of cars in the car park and, looking at her watch, Steph realised she was cutting it fine to get to the welcome meeting.

The receptionist checked Steph in. ‘Leave your bags here and the concierge will take them to your lodge. If you go through to the main reception room there on the left, the welcome talk is just about to start. You’ll be given your room key at the end.’

‘Thank you,’ said Steph, now wishing she’d left just half an hour earlier. She hated the thought of being the last one to enter the room.