Tugging in a breath, Jason bit hard on his tongue. I just might, he thought furiously. ‘What time will you be back?’ he asked, as calmly as he could.

Karla’s answer was to walk out of the front door, allowing Megan access as she went.

Great. What was the bloody point? Nodding a half-hearted greeting at Megan, Jason raked a hand agitatedly through his hair. What did he do now? He had no idea where she was going, what the hell she was doing.

‘Shall I go through?’ Megan asked him, hovering awkwardly in the hall.

Jason was about to say no, but… ‘The kids are in bed,’ he said on impulse. Stepping past her, he grabbed his car keys from the hall table. ‘No unsuitable Netflix,’ he warned, giving Karla a second to set off and then heading out after her.

‘When do you need me till?’ Megan called from the door.

‘I’ll text you,’ Jason called back, climbing hurriedly into his car.

Pulling off the drive, he turned in the direction Karla had taken, heading towards the dual carriageway. Was she going into town to meet friends there, he wondered, as he picked up her car and followed her at a safe distance.

Fifteen minutes later, he had his answer, and wished to God that he didn’t, because there was only one reason Karla would be checking in to a Travelodge. Her story of ‘staying over at a girlfriend’s’ was bullshit.

His heart beating unsteadily in a combination of anger and jealousy, Jason parked discreetly on the opposite side of the car park. Praying he didn’t see anyone arrive and follow her in –anyone male, that was – he settled down to wait until he saw her come out.

His gut twisted as he took in the clothes she was wearing: a short, tight black dress that accentuated her figure and thigh-high leather boots that made her legs look as if they went on forever. She got into a taxi and he trailed her to a trendy wine bar. He waited five minutes and then followed her in, feeling sick to his soul. She was at the bar, with one hand pressed to the chest of some smooth-looking bastard who was wasting no time in trailing his hand down her back to the base of her spine, and lower. Who was he? Someone she was seeing? Her hook-up for the night? Jason laughed sardonically. The hotel room was already conveniently booked. Fuck!

Twenty-Eight

KARLA

I am immensely relieved he looks like a regular guy. Standing three or four inches taller than me, he’s wearing black boots and black chinos, with a white T-shirt over a tidy torso. As in his photos, he has a hint of a beard, dark hair. I smile my approval. He seems nice enough. Normal.