Jodie almost ran the two miles to her house and arrived at her front door breathless, sweating, and angry – with herself, with Victor and even with Flynn who was the only truly blameless person, his silly lies not counting.

When she searched her pockets for her keys, she almost screamed in frustration. She’d had a bag, her keys were inside. There was no choice, she had to return to the café. Victor would have seen it, he’d be waiting for her. A smirk on his creepy face.

But when she got to the café both he and her bag were gone.

‘I didn’t see it,’ said the same server who had spilled her secret to the one man in the world she would have kept it from forever.

Victor… he’d taken her bag.

She’d no choice… she never had a choice, too often her life seemed to be taken out of her hands and here she was again, forced to do something she didn’t want to do. Victor would be waiting for her in his flat. He would gloat that she needed him and make of it something that it wasn’t. He might even think she’d left her bag deliberately. She squeezed her eyes shut, horrified at the thought.

But she was wrong. She walked around to his flat and kept her finger pressed to his bell until it was numb, then stood craning her neck to see if there was any sign of him at the window. She’d been so sure… puzzlement creased her forehead. An even more horrendous thought slammed into her with such force that it rocked her on her feet.

Victor knew where she lived; and he had her keys.

She turned and ran for home, hoping to find him waiting outside, her bag in his hand looking smug and superior. But once again she was wrong and she supposed she should have guessed that the temptation would be too much for him.

Her front door was ajar. She pushed it open slowly and listened. Silence. Two quiet steps and there he was, in the sitting room, on the sofa, the DNA report in his hand, his mouth gaping in disbelief.

He looked up as she stepped through the doorway and shook his head. ‘Flynn is your son… our son.’

There was no point in denying it, not with the proof in his hands. She sat opposite and said nothing.

Victor looked at the report again. She saw his lips move as he read the scant details. ‘I thought he’d gone to Australia,’ he said, looking back to her.

‘It appears they changed their mind at the last minute.’

Then Victor asked the question she’d been waiting for. ‘And the child you’re carrying?’

Jodie didn’t answer; she didn’t need to. Victor had been following her, he knew there was nobody else.