‘I don’t believe that for a second. Rupert and I are strong together, we love each other, but whoever is doing this…’ I break off, distracted by a shriek from upstairs.

‘Excuse me a moment.’ Sadie strides from the room, shouting the nanny’s name. I wait, sniffing at Sadie’s glass – it definitely is a Bloody Mary – and running my fingers over the shiny, black marble counter tops. I pause as I look over the vast American-style fridge, with magnets stuck all over it. I never would have put Sadie down as a woman who would stick magnets all over her fridge. There are pictures drawn by the children stuck on with magnetic letters, scribbles all showing ‘my family’, ‘my house’, ‘my dog’ – wishful thinking on someone’s part, as Sadie would never have a dog – and a shopping list, written in familiar handwriting.

I peer at the slip of paper, an unsettling feeling resting on my shoulders. The writing is familiar, but I just can’t place it; all I know is that it has awoken a creeping sense of dread. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, letting the scrawl sit in my mind’s eye, and then it comes to me.

The Christmas gift. The one that was left on the doorstep, the photograph of Rupert and Caro on their wedding day. Mags had come over to deliver my post, but Sadie had been there that day too. My name was written in gold pen across the top of the gift in this very handwriting, I am sure of it.