Barker’s narrowed eyes pinned her to the chair. ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to insist on your finding out what that is and informing me. Otherwise I will have no option but to involve the police.’ He picked up the matt black card. ‘If someone is impersonating a London Medical representative, it could have serious repercussions for us and for our customers’ trust in the company.’ He got to his feet. ‘I’ll give you till this time tomorrow to find out what’s going on before I decide whether I need to drag us into what might be a very messy situation.’

Jodie blinked, her mouth dropping open in wordless dismay. There was no further discussion about her working for them, no warm handshake as Barker waved her from his office, no chat as they went down in the lift, no pleasant goodbye as he opened the front door, closing it firmly after she’d gone through as if to say she wasn’t welcome back.

Shock numbed her brain. Afterwards, she couldn’t remember walking back to the train station, switching from the Central to the Piccadilly line or crossing the busy junction to catch her train home.

It was only as she pushed open the door into her house that the shock started to wear off. Anger galloped in on its tail and she stomped into the kitchen, threw her bag against the wall, and screamed every expletive she could remember. Flynn and Victor: both came under the lash of her tongue.

What an idiot she’d been. Hadn’t she known there was something too good to be true about Flynn? And there was that story about his apartment… she’d been right, she knew it now, he’d spoken about his spacious apartment until she suggested going there, then suddenly it was too small. Lies. All ugly lies.

She picked up her bag and grabbed the contents that had fallen out including the notebook that she’d never had reason to use. She looked at it sadly before crossing the kitchen and throwing it in the bin.

Early as it was, wine seemed like a good idea. There was an open bottle in the fridge. She took it out and slopped some into a glass, filling it to the brim, slurping some when it lapped over the edge as she crossed to the table and sat heavily. Another gulp was needed when she felt tears sting. She was damned if she was going to cry over the bastard.

The best thing to do was to simply cut Flynn off. Tomorrow, when Graham Barker didn’t hear from her, he’d contact the police. Let him! It would serve Flynn right for his deception. For making her believe.