That was the question he’d wrestled with for months. Fredrika’s intuition was excellent, and she’d never been stupid. And yet she’d missed the fact that he’d spent days brooding over his cancer diagnosis before he told her. Not that she didn’t have the right to know, but because he wanted to make all the necessary decisions on his own. They shared everything to do with the life they lived, but death was his and his alone.

‘I can come with you to Switzerland, though?’ she’d asked.

‘Of course. I can’t do this without you.’

His throat constricted as he waited for her to straighten up. It seemed to take forever. She was fiddling with her shoes, her bag, her mobile. Then, at last, she stood up and met his gaze.

Any shred of doubt disappeared.

She knew.

He forced himself to smile.

‘Everything all right? I haven’t heard from you all day.’

She had two choices. Either she could tell him what had happened, why she hadn’t been in touch. Or she could pretend that nothing had changed. In which case she ought to give him a quick kiss and head for the kitchen, saying something along the lines of: ‘I’m starving, what’s for dinner?’

She stood there motionless, didn’t speak.

Then she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and headed for the kitchen.

‘I’m starving, what’s for dinner?’

Her voice was too high and her gaze swept the room like a laser beam, as if she was searching for the quickest escape route.

But there is no escape route, not for either of us, my darling.

‘How about spaghetti vongole?’ she said. ‘Or were you thinking of something else?’

He took a step forward. She took a step back, then realised what she’d done and moved forward again. But only half a step.

‘Have we got any clams?’ Spencer asked.

‘I don’t think so – I’ll just pop down to the shop. No problem.’

No problem. Just as long as she could get out of the apartment.

Spencer felt the dark shadow of sorrow settle over him. He sat down. ‘Is there something we need to talk about?’

Fredrika’s mouth was a thin line, her eyes a silent scream.

For God’s sake, how did it come to this?

‘No. No, nothing at all.’

She walked out of the kitchen, put on her shoes, looped her bag over her shoulder and left the apartment.

Spencer remained behind with the overwhelming feeling that his wife was afraid of him, one thought filling his mind:

If she already knew, then wouldn’t it be better to bring things to a close much sooner than he’d planned?

Chapter 20