He leaned into her face. His breath stank. Rearing back, Connie pulled the door half closed.

‘No,’ she said again. ‘I was going to give it back. I was on my way now.’

He ignored her. ‘Haven’t I helped your father enough?’

‘But . . .’

‘You’ve been spying, haven’t you? Watching from your window. I’ve seen you looking out at night. You found my little cache and you’ve been filching. That’s right, isn’t it? I expect you thought you were clever. Have you any idea what happens to thieves in my world?’

He was glaring, waiting for her answer.

‘No,’ she whispered, but she thought of the man with the sticking out ears whose body had been dragged from the lake. Was that how it ended?

He gave her a smile that nowhere near reached his eyes. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I can tell you, they don’t do well. They don’t do well at all.’

‘But I didn’t steal it,’ she said desperately. If she didn’t go soon, she would miss her train. She would be slow anyway, carrying Sarah, and she was still bleeding: she could feel it draining through her even as she stood there.

Kenneth straightened up. ‘I was convinced it was Victor rummaging about in my flower beds, but when I accused him, he had no idea what I was talking about.’

Why did you believe him? Connie wanted to scream. But no words came out.

‘But if I wasn’t sure who it was then,’ Kenneth added, ‘I certainly am now.’

‘Did he say it was me?’ she asked, keeping her voice level.

‘No, because he obviously didn’t know.’

Connie’s shoulders slumped. How had he got Victor so wrong? She pressed her lips closed. If she could get rid of this money and get away from Kenneth, she could take Sarah and leave and still be on time. But she felt so weak. Pain pierced her stomach.

Kenneth carried on. ‘I find this very disappointing after everything I’ve done for your father.’ His eyes dropped to the suitcase on the floor. ‘I’m guessing that’s full of my money too.’

‘No. I promise . . .’ She blinked, trying to focus, but Kenneth’s face had blurred.

‘And now you want to disappear. Where are you going?’

‘Paris,’ she said, but her voice sounded far away. Blood had soaked the towel. She was sure it was spilling at the edges. She needed to change. Did she have time?

‘Please. I have to get a train.’

He shrugged. ‘You can get whatever train you like, my dear, but first you can give me my cash.’

She could hear Sarah softly whimpering and felt the painful rush of milk. She made to go inside.

Kenneth, oblivious, grabbed her arm, pushing her off balance. ‘My money,’ he said. She staggered against the door and it slammed against the wall.