‘I didn’t wake you, did I?’

‘No, I was up anyway. I wondered when you were digging that hole.’

‘Too hot in the day for that kind of work.’

‘Kind of creepy doing it at night though.’

‘Hadn’t you better get to bed?’ he said, handing her back the glass. ‘I have to get on with this.’

‘Not really tired. I find it hard to sleep in this heat. I’ve got some work to do anyway,’ Jasmine said before going inside and locking the door behind her, making sure he noticed her doing it. She grabbed her books and headed back into the dining room to work through the night. She looked back to the garden to check he had stayed there. She wanted him to know that she wasn’t afraid of him; the truth was that there was still this conflicting feeling within her. There was something wrong with him, there was no doubt about that. One thing was for certain: he had a plan, something he was working towards. Maybe she was part of it or maybe she was just in his way. One way or another she was going to find out what he was doing there.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Jasmine didn’t particularly remember much from the first few countries they’d visited; she was too young and spent most of the time either on a sling strapped to her mum or being cared for by elderly women not strong enough to do the physical work. Her dad loved to regale her with stories of their travels, particularly of the many embarrassing things she had done on those trips. Her parents had given her a cheap little handheld camera when she was really young so she could document things for herself. She still had the pictures somewhere.

The next country on the list was Belize. She decided to take a break and see if Tim was still digging the garden. She went outside but he wasn’t there. The shovel was abandoned on the ground and it looked like he hadn’t got much further than when she’d left him out there a couple of hours ago. She wondered if he was in the guest house. She could go in under the pretence of making sure he was OK, under the pretence of wanting to be alone with him again. Her hand hovered over the handle and she considered what the worst that could happen was. She realised she had no idea what that might be.

‘What are you doing?’ Tim said. She turned to see him walking out of the kitchen, brows furrowed. ‘Did you go inside?’ he asked, his face awash with rage.