‘Barb? What … I …’ Seeing Barb instead of Davina is the very last thing I expected.

‘Oh, close your mouth, dear, it’s not an attractive look.’

My confusion doesn’t transcribe into words. I’m standing on the doorstep, mute.

‘Don’t worry,’ she says. ‘I haven’t disposed of your friend.’ Her voice drips contempt.

‘Why are you here?’ I say, glad I’m able to get an entire sentence out of my mouth.

‘That’s between us. You know me – don’t like to speak out of turn.’

I let that obvious lie slide. My curiosity, however, refuses to do the same. ‘Where is she? I want to talk to her. Now.’

‘She’s busy. On the phone, I believe. Maybe come back in half an hour or so.’ She gives me a sickly-sweet smile.

‘What are you playing at, Barb?’

‘I’m not playing at anything. Unlike some.’

I hear some movement inside the house, then voices. Is Wayne in there too? I want to push past Barb, go in and see for myself.

‘Sorry, Amber,’ Davina says as she comes into view of the front door. She stays back though, in the shadow of the hallway.

The way she says it is not in a “sorry for keeping you” kind of voice. It’s more like a “I’m sorry for this and whatever shitstorm is now going to head your way” voice. I might well be reading far more into it because seeing Barb has set me off, but my gut tells me otherwise.

It’s that, or I’ve just caught Davina out. Maybe she and Barb have been in on this from the beginning and together they’ve been attempting to sabotage my hopes of selling so that I stay in Barb’s godforsaken family house.

While this may be the case, though, it still doesn’t make sense that Barb is behind whoever is creeping around the house at night, moving things. That stuff is making me want to leave the house more quickly, not stay. I’m beginning to think everyone on my suspect list is playing a part in my situation and that there are two opposing groups. One trying to make me stay, the other trying to make me leave.

It’s a case of figuring out who is on each side and what I’m going to do about them.

‘Call me when she’s gone, Davina,’ I say, purposely ignoring Barb. Then I turn my back on them and walk across the road.

Barb better not dare come knocking on my door after she leaves Davina’s.

I’m in just the right mood for an almighty argument.

Chapter Seventy-Eight

Amber

The mounting sense I’m being kept in the dark about something is replaced with a sinking sensation when I cross the road and see a man sitting on my front doorstep.

Now what?