I feel an odd mix of relief and concern on the walk back home. On the one hand, I’m relieved I didn’t find out the reason behind Miss Emery’s strange reaction to Carl, but on the other, it’s adding to my anxiety that I’ve been unable to “put it to bed”. It might’ve been a simple explanation, like he’d let her down on her own house sale or something. But then, it might’ve been something more malign. Either way, I’m going to research other estate agents.

The silence that greets me when I walk into the house gives me a sense of déjà vu. My muscles tense. Have the switches all been flicked off again? I scramble underneath the stairs and pause with my hand over the fuse box door. It’s like ripping off a plaster.

Just do it quick.

I pull the door down.

All the switches are on. I blow out my lungful of held air. I panicked for nothing. If I’d just tried the light switches, I could’ve avoided it. As I turn to get back up, I spot a piece of black leather sticking out from under a pair of trainers. I pull at it.

‘How the hell?’ I lean back against the wall with Carl’s diary clutched in my hands. How on earth did this get here? I swear I saw him leave with it. And how come I’m only spotting it now? I’m convinced this hasn’t been here this whole time. Something very peculiar is going on.

I can’t help myself; I begin flipping through the pages. There are lots of names, addresses and phone numbers listed as well as a calendar with appointments. At first glance there’s nothing unexpected, but I could do with studying it further before handing it back. I also need time to concoct some kind of excuse as to how come it was in my house but yet I’ve only just found it. One more day without it isn’t going to hurt Carl.

I run upstairs and slide the diary beneath my mattress.

Chapter Forty

Amber

It’s finally the weekend, and I’m buzzing with anticipation for Richard’s imminent arrival. I’ve arranged for Jo and Keeley to babysit tonight, booked the Waterside Bistro in town and bought a new dress – albeit from a charity shop. It seems so long since Richard was here, my nerves are behaving as though it’s our first date all over again; I remember the anxiety that brought very well. Speaking with someone on Facebook, and then on the phone for a few months before meeting, was new territory to me. Jo had tentatively mentioned internet dating after Nick moved out, but I couldn’t bear the thought of putting myself out there in that way. But, ironically, the internet is where Richard found me.