Di had finally left, with a semi-threatening shout of “Speak soon, Chris!” along the hall. Vicky had gone for a lie-down without another word. Chris had slipped away and was driving through a flurry of wind and rain toward Freya’s school.

He wouldn’t linger there, of course. He just needed to start at that location so he could retrace the route they’d taken three days before, checking for CCTV cameras that might have picked them up that afternoon. The escalating rain made it difficult. His wipers shrieked each time they swept across the glass—he’d been meaning to get some new blades for weeks. He used to take an embarrassing amount of pride in maintaining his and Vicky’s modest cars. It was the one thing he was good at, and he’d especially liked doing it for her. She’d always rolled her eyes when he’d lectured about oil levels and preventing clutch wear, but she’d liked it really, he could tell. These days it was harder to please or amuse her, harder even to know whether she was happy or sad.

A heaviness dragged at his body as he recalled how she’d looked at him after the police had left. He’d once believed she loved him unconditionally, that they were fundamentally the same person. Now that naïve theory was being put to the test in ways he’d never imagined.

His phone started to ring. Di’s name appeared on the hands-free display. Alarm spiked through him—did speak soon have to mean this soon? He fumbled with the controls.

“Hi, Chris.” Di’s voice sounded different coming through the speakers.

“Di,” Chris said. “Everything all right?”

There was a pause. He kept one eye on the passing streets, his fingers beating a nervous tempo on the wheel.

“Well . . .” Di said. “Actually, I was going to ask you the same question.”

He swallowed. “What?”

“I mean . . . is everything okay with you and Vic?”

His shoulders tensed. “I don’t—”

“Money-wise.”

After the initial surprise of her question, he didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried. If Di had asked him about their finances a few months back, he would have gone straight on the defensive. Even now, he answered abruptly: “Why would you ask that?”

“Well . . . I saw you in your office today. Going through your accounts. You looked very . . . anxious.”

Of course she couldn’t just not mention it. Always had to stick her nose in. “I was looking for something,” he said. “Something I needed for my tax return.”

“You can tell me if there’s a problem. Gav and I would like to help.”

“You’ve told Gavin about this?”

“Erm . . .”

“Did you mention it to Vicky?”

“No, no, I wanted to speak to you first.”

Chris gritted his teeth. “Di, Vicky and I are doing fine. I do take care of her, you know, despite what you and Jane might think.”