Sadie sits shell-shocked at the table, as I scoop up my bag and turn to face her.

‘I think it’s best if Rupert doesn’t see you for a while,’ I say.

‘All you have to do is leave,’ Sadie says finally, quietly from where she sits at the kitchen table. ‘That’s all I ever wanted to do was to make you leave. You’re like a cuckoo, forcing your way into the nest.’

‘I’m not the cuckoo, Sadie,’ I say, ‘you need to look a lot closer to home for that. Don’t contact Rupert – don’t call him, don’t try to see him. I’m warning you.’

Without waiting for her to reply, I slam my way out before she can get to her feet. Once away from the house I start to run, heart racing, my feet slamming against the pavement sending shooting pains into my knees. I wait until I am around the corner before I stick my arm out and hail a passing cab. I give the driver the address of Rupert’s office and slump back in the seat, my breath coming in painful gasps. I am sure that Sadie will be on the phone to Rupert before I’ve even made it to the end of the road, but it doesn’t matter, I have the recording.

We pull up outside Rupert’s building and I pay the driver, before taking a deep breath and approaching the glass-fronted space where my husband spends every day. A receptionist is on the phone as I enter, and she holds up one finger in my direction as I walk up to the desk.

‘Rupert Milligan, please,’ I say, as an older gentleman passes by, giving me a quick double take before he gets into the lift. There is something familiar about him and it’s only as I take my own place in the lift up to Rupert’s floor that I realize it is Michael Osbourne, Caro’s father and the owner of the large construction company Rupert works for. I offer him a tiny smile, the back of my neck prickling uncomfortably, and I am relieved when I step out of the lift and he stays on.

Rupert is sitting at his desk, engrossed in whatever is on his screen when I tap lightly on the door to his office. He glances up, irritation on his face at being interrupted before he realizes it is me.

‘Emily—’ His tone is cautious, and he peers behind me as if expecting someone else to be there. ‘What are you doing here? Is everything OK?’

It seems that Sadie hasn’t called him – although what exactly could she say, knowing that I had recorded our entire conversation? ‘I’m sorry to come here unannounced. Have you got a few minutes? I really, really need to talk to you.’