Peering around the corner of the building, Victor was sorry there was no sign of lover boy. He’d have liked to have followed him, snooped around to find out who he was, where he lived, whether he was hiding a partner and children somewhere while he was screwing around with Jodie. That there was something off about him, Victor was convinced. He’d seen it the first day in the café, something odd that he couldn’t quite figure out. But he’d figure it out eventually. Persistence – like patience – paid in the long run.

Victor retraced his steps, passed the church, and crossed the road. From this angle, he could see the front of Jodie’s house, but there was no chance of her seeing him.

She never saw him. Had probably forgotten about his existence. Soon that was going to change. Soon she’d be forced to remember. He’d make sure of that.

8

At ten thirty, Jodie stepped out and locked the front door behind her. She’d chosen her clothes with care and hoped the navy trousers, white shirt and pale-blue linen jacket made her look efficient and professional, not the kind of person who’d have made a silly error about anything.

She carried a large tote with a notebook and pen inside to take notes. It seemed like the right thing to do. This whole situation was so outside anything she’d ever known that she felt queasy, a sensation that increased as she neared the nursing home.

There was a keypad to the side of the door and she pressed the four-digit code without thinking, her hand raised to push the door as soon as she heard the beep. But it didn’t come. She bit back a grunt of frustration and tried again, pressing each key slowly. It wasn’t till the fourth attempt that realisation slammed her across her face. The entrance code had been changed. She’d worked at the home for six years, it had been the same code the whole time. Was it too much of a coincidence that she’d been accused of a serious medication error and the code had been changed? Or was she a little paranoid?

She glanced at the time. Ten minutes to eleven. She needed to get a grip on her rising panic. A few steps took her to a small garden where a stone seat was set amongst tall ornamental grasses. It was all for effect and she’d never seen anyone from the home using it but it was the ideal place to spend a few minutes. She sat on the cold stone and listened to the breeze shushing through the grasses behind her, a hypnotic sound that helped settle her nerves.