Maybe Molly was overthinking it all. Or maybe she was right, maybe Amelia and Lucien Pleasant weren’t strangers at all. Taking out the inspector’s card, she took her phone and put his number in under a speed dial key. With one stroke she could contact him.

She wished it made her feel safer.

24

Molly didn’t say anything to Jack. There was no point in worrying him about her suspicions, especially since, she admitted with a shrug, they were so changeable. In the morning, she’d ring the inspector. Maybe by this stage he’d have more information to put her mind at ease.

They sat at the table to have their meal. Molly pushed food around her plate, trying to hide the fact that she’d no appetite. Looking across the table, she realised Jack had eaten even less. She opened her mouth to plead with him to tell her what was wrong but closed it again. Her brain was still too fuzzy, she couldn’t deal with any more. ‘I’m really not very hungry,’ she said, pushing her plate away. ‘I think I’ll head to bed.’

Jack pushed his barely-touched plate away. ‘I’m going to watch TV for a while. I’ll sleep in the spare room so’s not to disturb you when I come up.’

She stood and leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Goodnight,’ she said, unable to stop the grimace as she straightened.

‘You should take one of the painkillers the hospital prescribed. Where are they? I’ll go and get one for you.’

She shook her head. ‘I put them in the bathroom cabinet. I’m not keen on taking them, Jack, they made me feel quite disconnected. The pain isn’t that bad, really, I’ll take a couple of paracetamols.’

He didn’t look convinced. ‘Promise me you’ll take the stronger ones during the night if you need them.’

‘I promise,’ she said with a smile and headed off. He didn’t need to know that she never wanted to take a tablet again, not even paracetamol. The pain would ease when she was lying down. It didn’t, in fact, it was worse, but she decided she preferred the pain to the grogginess she remembered from earlier. She knew she was being silly, but her life was in such turmoil, she needed to keep as clear a head as possible.

Lying there, she listened to the distant murmur of the television, the sounds from the street outside, trying to concentrate on them rather than going over and over the events of the last few days. The fear had eased but she knew it was lurking, ready to strike. A smile curved her lips when she heard Jack’s step on the stairs. He was trying to be quiet, but he never remembered the fourth step that squeaked despite several carpenters’ attempts to fix it.