I slide it out and pull out the contents. It’s only a couple of pages long, and is on headed paper, from a solicitor in West London. As I scan the words, realization dawns, and only because my mother had been up in arms the day her third husband to be (who never became her third husband in the end) asked her to sign a similar document. It’s a pre-nuptial agreement between Rupert and Caro. It states that in the event of a divorce Rupert would not be entitled to half of Caro’s estate, and would only be entitled to certain amounts on prior agreement. However, if Caro died before Rupert, he would inherit everything, with a clause stating that on Rupert’s death, any inheritance shall be divided between any children born to him and Caro, and not to children born by a subsequent partner. All pretty straightforward. I pull out the bank statements and run my eye down the column again, disappointed in my failure to prove what I was so convinced was right.

Shoving the paper back into the box, I square the corners neatly and put it back on the shelf, placing the mildewed box in front of it, before surveying the shed to make sure everything has been left as it was. A wave of tiredness washes over me, and for a moment I feel sick and dizzy, nausea making my mouth fill with saliva.

If Caro hasn’t been in the house, leaving dead animals on the doorstep and filling her wardrobe with her clothes then who has?

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Rupert is home early, catching me unawares as I stand at the stove, stirring a big pot of chilli, a glass of red wine in my hand. My mind is still ticking over everything that I uncovered today, and something isn’t sitting quite right, but I can’t put my finger on what it is.

‘Something smells good.’

I jump, a slosh of red wine jumping out of my glass and running over my fingers as Rupert enters the kitchen silently. I haven’t even heard the front door open, and I feel my shoulders tense. Anyone could have let themselves in and I wouldn’t have heard. I need to start putting the chain across.

‘Rupert, you made me jump. Good day?’

‘Eventful.’ He leans over and kisses me on the cheek. ‘Didn’t you get my message? I rang and said I’d take you out for dinner.’

‘No, sorry.’ I glance towards the telephone and hope he can’t see the cord that has been pulled from the wall. ‘I was outside in the garden for most of the day.’

‘I told you to just leave it. It looks fine for now.’ There is something snippy in his tone and he moves towards the wine bottle. ‘Do you mind if we stay at home after all?’