‘No one other than myself handles the key, Amber. It’s always locked away in the safe when not required.’ He’s getting defensive; his posture’s stiffened. ‘It’ll make it so much more awkward when arranging viewings …’ He peters off, but his eyes are boring into mine; their intensity makes me feel uneasy. It’s my key, my house – why should I feel bad about asking for it back?

‘I understand you keep it safe, Carl. It’s not that I don’t trust you, you know. But the other day when I was delayed at work, my mother-in-law couldn’t even get in the house with my children as you have the only spare.’ It’s not the reason I want it back, obviously, but on balance I think it’s a reasonable argument.

‘You could get another cut,’ Carl states.

‘I know I could. But I don’t want to,’ I say, my voice now rising in response to him being so obstinate.

‘Fine. If you insist, I’ll drop it back sometime after work tomorrow.’ He glares at me for a moment, then I see him open his mouth as though about to add something, but he changes his mind, turns and walks towards his Mercedes.

I’m conscious that the whole exchange was a little odd; I have an uneasy feeling I can’t pinpoint. His behaviour seems different since the open house – his reaction to me asking for my key over the top. What’s rattled his cage?

I hope the diary isn’t the only thing he’s mislaid.

What if he’s lost my house key, too?

Chapter Twenty

Amber

Before Carl has made it into his car, Davina rushes across the road, one hand waving madly. No doubt she was listening the whole time. One of the reasons I wanted to conduct the conversation inside the house, not on the doorstep. I’m sure I hear Carl groan when he hears Davina’s voice as it carries on the air like a seagull’s squawk. He does a quick manoeuvre and slips into his Mercedes before she can reach the pavement – even he doesn’t want to speak to Davina. It wouldn’t surprise me if she’s been bending his ear every time he’s been at the house.

‘That’s the man I keep seeing going into your house,’ she says, her gaze following his car as he drives away.

‘Yes, he’s the estate agent, Davina. I told you it was probably him.’

‘Hmmm, yes. Very good-looking. I can see why you chose him.’ Davina gives me a sly nudge and then winks. Oh, my God, this woman is incorrigible. I take a few steps away from her so she can’t nudge me again.