As far as I’m concerned, the only way he can be so confident is because he knows who my intruder is. And he doesn’t want me to worry because it’s making me edgy enough to consider selling to the developers, which he’s adamant I shouldn’t do. Is it him? Has he been keeping an eye on me and the boys? Maybe he’s jealous of Richard and wants to know exactly what’s going on. He was confident there was no sign of a trespasser when I asked him to look – perhaps it’s because it’s him who’s watching us and he didn’t want me to find the spyware. Allaying my fears, even making me feel I’m just being paranoid. And recently he’s been talking about how he’s messed up, how he misses chatting to me about his day once he’s finished work; misses his boys. He’d seemed amicable about the split; happy I’m moving on with a new man. But it could easily be a lie. It’s possible he and Barb are in this together. Mother and son. Trying to save their family any way they can.

I mentally add Nick to my list of suspects.

Chapter Seventy

Amber

Getting back out of bed at 1 a.m. to position my mobile had unsettled me; nerves prevented sleep. Exhaustion took over eventually – but not until gone four. The alarm going off at seven came far too soon. I’m not expecting to see anything now as I take the phone from the landing windowsill and check it’s still recording.

It is.

Blood pounds in my ears; a light-headedness catches me off-guard. I stumble backwards, away from the top of the stairs. The last thing we need now is for me to take a tumble. Finley rushes out of his room, squinting at the light; sleep still clinging to the corners of his eyes.

‘Well?’ he says, rubbing them.

‘I’ve not looked yet.’

‘But it recorded okay?’

I need to hedge my bets here. If there’s something on the recording, I want to be the first to know, and then decide whether it’s wise to share it with Finley.

‘I don’t know that yet either. I’m still half-asleep. I’ll make breakfast, then check. You start getting ready for school, please.’

He looks as though he’s about to put up an argument, but then turns and goes back into his room. I heave a sigh of relief. I wake Leo, who at least seems to have been oblivious to our activity last night, and go downstairs to the kitchen.

I don’t get far.

Something is preventing me opening the lounge door. I push hard against it, and feel it give a little; a small crack of light filters through. I pause for a moment. A heavy weight is clearly against it on the other side.

A person?