It had been an easy mistake, when they first met and she had introduced herself as Anna. He didn’t have his hearing aids in, thought she had said her name was Gemma. She had gone to correct him before biting back her words. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t tell him her real name, but as time went on, and more and more of William’s money came her way, she decided that the misunderstanding might not be a bad thing. It was the same reason she always wore a hat outside: beret in winter, cap or sunhat in summer. The less anyone knew about her to be able to identify her, the better.

After all, she didn’t plan on staying with William forever.

‘Coming!’ she called.

Clicking away from Facebook, she looked at herself in the mirror one last time before skipping down the stairs to show William what he had bought for her today.

Chapter 3

Paula stared at the steaks on the chopping board. Blood leaked around the grooves, settling into the wood. Grabbing a piece of kitchen towel, she wiped it up, only for more brown liquid to appear a moment later.

She took a deep breath, disposed of the paper towel and checked her phone again.

It was almost seven o’clock, and there was no Tommy, and no dinner. She hated delays, despised radio silence. As the minutes ticked past, her worry grew. Scenarios were vivid in her head: the train off the rails, a slip from the platform. They ballooned in their intensity, becoming visions of terrorist bombs and personal attacks.

When her worry threatened to overwhelm her, she snatched up the phone and dialled his number. Just as it began to ring, she heard his key in the lock. Hanging up, she moved into the hallway.

‘Where have you been?’ she asked. ‘The steaks have been sitting out forever, and you said you’d ring when you were getting on the train.’

Tommy paused, briefcase satchel halfway off. He glanced at the front door and she wondered if he were considering bolting.

‘Jeez, Paula, can’t you wait until I actually get in the house before having a go at me?’ He smiled as he spoke, but his words cut.

She bit her lip as she walked towards him, wondering how her blind panic over his well-being had emerged as nagging. She hadn’t meant her words to be anything other than a normal question. She reached out and stroked his arm, instantly contrite. ‘Sorry, baby, but I asked you to ring me so I could get timings right on the dinner.’

Propping his bag against the stair post, he straightened up and scratched his head. ‘When?’

‘When what?’ Swiftly, she picked up the case and hung it on the hook inside the cupboard under the stairs.