Victor wasn’t going to destroy what she had now. Whatever it took… she’d make sure of that.

32

It had amused Victor that Jodie had called in the police and he wondered what they’d said. Had they considered the leap from baby shoes to the dead mouse seriously and talked about his ‘escalation’, worrying her that it could get worse? Or had they dismissed it all as a foolish prank?

His curiosity about Flynn hadn’t been completely satisfied by finding out where he lived and learning his name, but there was nothing else to be learned on social media and eventually his interest in the man waned. Flynn was, after all, out of Jodie’s life and of no further interest to him.

Jodie was just where Victor wanted her to be – alone and unsettled.

He’d done an internet search and discovered all he needed to know about the NMC investigation. Nothing was going to happen for months. Jodie would be stuck in Gravesend.

It was a good time for him to take a holiday.

Victor had developed a soft spot for Dubai while he was keeping an eye on Jodie and had visited numerous times. The next day, he was on an Emirates flight back.

He lay stretched out on the lounger by the rooftop pool of the same five-star hotel he stayed in every visit, his body toasting to a pale beige. Every hour, almost to the minute, he stood in his badly-fitting swim shorts and dived into the pool. He did ten lengths, frowning at those in the pool who dilly-dallied and got in the way of his smooth breaststroke.

Within a couple of days of his arrival, other visitors, in and out of the pool, had learned to stay out of his way.

Victor didn’t notice, his mind was totally occupied with thoughts of Jodie and what he was going to do next.

Two weeks later, Victor packed his bags and took a flight back to London. Although he still hadn’t come to any decision about the next step with Jodie, he felt relaxed. He never tanned, but his skin had taken on a faint milky-coffee stain akin to the jaundiced hue of liver complaints.

Back in chilly Gravesend, he opened the door of his bedsit and dropped the small battered suitcase and holdall on the floor. The claustrophobia he always felt after returning from the spacious upmarket hotels he favoured, took a few seconds to fade. Then it was as if he’d never been away, the mugginess of his living space a comfortable familiarity.

He unpacked his few items, threw clothes into the washing machine, and lay down on his bed to shut his eyes after a journey that was more wearisome than usual thanks to delays at every stage. To the hum, rattle and roll of the washing machine he fell asleep.