‘Well, it’s all been so slow – and with what you said about Carl bringing the same people to view several times, it’s made me think more deeply about it.’

‘So, you think Carl is sabotaging the sale?’

‘And Barb,’ I say, without really thinking it through. Damn. I screw up my eyes; I’ve been too quick to confide in her. It’s so weird how I suddenly feel the need to open up to Davina of all people, but now I’ve overstepped the mark I can’t take it back.

‘I get why Barbara wouldn’t want the house to sell,’ Davina says, her chin cupped in one hand, a finger on her lips. I can almost see the cogs turning in her brain. ‘Carl, though? He would be shooting himself in the foot, surely? It doesn’t make sense for him to be preventing a sale. He’ll want the house to sell as he’ll be getting commission, won’t he?’

‘Yes. Of course. And I know it all sounds mad, but something isn’t sitting right.’ I don’t mention the thirteenth viewer, the odd things going on in the house, or the noises. I’ve entrusted her with enough for now. Maybe even too much. Could Davina herself have a reason to sabotage my sale? I could be playing right into her hands for all I know.

‘I’d definitely look into Barbara, to begin with.’ Davina stands up and begins pacing the lounge. ‘I said yesterday, she’s a strange one. I would certainly consider her to be your number-one suspect at this time.’

I take a deep breath. Telling a crime writer my suspicions might not have been the brightest thing to do. I fear we’ll have a wall dedicated to each suspect and a full-blown CSI-type investigation going on in my lounge if Davina has her way.

‘I don’t really have any evidence for it being her, though.’

‘Right. Well, then, that’s the first action point. Gather intel. Make a case.’

‘Look, I really appreciate your … er … enthusiasm, but I don’t want to make this into something it’s not. If Nick got wind of this …’

‘He won’t. We’ll keep it between ourselves.’ Davina walks to the lounge door. ‘Leave it with me, Amber. I’ve a few things I can add to the evidence chain …’ And she’s gone.

I’m left, sitting in my chair, mouth agape as I hear the front door slam. It’s as though I’ve been in a storm and been left shaken and slightly battered.

Oh, my God. What have I started?

Chapter Thirty-Three

Barb