“Well, yes. I asked who it was and why they were doing it.”

“So you reacted. And then they upped their game a bit and found your mobile number on the web and sent you that text.”

“How could they have found out my mobile number? I changed it when I came here, and I’ve never put it on the internet. Apart from in my direct message to you, which was private.”

“Doesn’t matter. There are sites that you can pay to get someone’s details. They masquerade as a service to help reunite you with long-lost family, but it’s basically a stalking service. If you’ve got someone’s name and date of birth, that’s all you need.”

“How do you know this?”

She sighs. “Remember Simone? How do you think I found out where her girlfriend lived? If you’ve got the money, Emma, you can find pretty much anyone.”

“But I didn’t receive any text messages until after the hit and run. It seems too much of a coincidence to get a text message about dying young on the same day as I’m knocked off my bike. ”

“Coincidences happen.”

“The police don’t seem to think so.”

“That’s because it’s their job to take this kind of shit seriously. Can you imagine the backlash in the press if something did happen to you and they’d dismissed your concerns? Listen, Emma.” Al lowers her voice. “You need to be careful about what you say to the police, especially what you say to them about me. I did what I did to protect you.” Her voice is little more than a whisper.

“I know.”

“Some sicko is trying to freak you out, and they’re succeeding. You’re jumping at shadows. The police have started asking questions and who knows where this will lead? I don’t want to go to prison, Emma.”

“But this person knows where I work! They know my mobile number. What if they know where I live, too?”

“So leave. Move.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

I want to tell her that I don’t want to leave because I like my life here. I like being Jane Hughes. I like working at Green Fields, and I … the sudden realisation twists my heart: I love the life I’m building with Will. If I leave, I’ll have nothing. I’ll be nothing. I’ll have to reinvent myself and start all over again.

“I want to help you,” Al says, and there’s steel in her voice, “but you need to calm down. Everyone who might possibly want to hurt you is dead.”

“And you’re sure of that?”

“Yes.”

She’s so convincing, so sure, and I want to believe her. I so desperately want to believe her.

“Give me a ring on this number if anything else happens,” she says. “Okay?”

“Okay.”