Lifting her hand, he planted a kiss on the back of it. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin as he struggled to control tears. ‘The police said someone tried to kill you,’ he mumbled, his lips still against her hand.

Of course! She remembered now. She reached her hand up to caress his head, brushing a lock of his hair back. ‘That’s what they’re saying.’ She smiled. ‘Whatever drugs they’re giving me are great, because I can’t seem to care.’

His eyes bored into hers. ‘Do they have any suspects? Witnesses must have seen something.’

‘I don’t know, I really can’t remember much of what was said.’

‘They’re taking it seriously anyway. There’s a uniformed officer outside your room.’

‘Really?’ Her eyes widened.

‘That’s why you’re in this spacious private room too. The police insisted for security reasons. Normally, you’d still be on a trolley in A & E.’

‘Something to be thankful for.’ Her eyes were heavy, she shut them as Jack continued to hold her hand. ‘I was supposed to be meeting Amelia,’ she mumbled. ‘She called around Friday morning.’

‘Amelia?’ His tone startled her into opening her eyes.

‘What is it?’

He pressed his lips together for a moment before tightening his grip on her hand. ‘Your life seems to have become a disaster since that weekend in Semington.’

Molly looked at him in dismay. Hadn’t she been a little suspicious of Amelia? She tried to remember why, but her head was fuzzy.

Jack leaned closer. ‘You go away for the weekend with her and get involved with a man who is then murdered. She calls on you and someone tries to kill you. It seems clear to me what the common denominator is.’

The fuzziness in her head cleared a little. Amelia. Amazing brown eyes, she’d said. That’s what had started her suspicions. ‘Yes,’ Molly said vaguely.

‘You have to tell the police,’ Jack insisted, running a hand through his hair, his eyes bleak. ‘They said they were coming back today. I gather you were still in shock yesterday when they tried to speak to you.’

Molly had a vague memory that she’d collapsed in a sobbing mess, but shock sounded better. They were coming back; she’d tell them her suspicions about Amelia.

There was a soft knock on the door, a nurse peered around the edge and came in when she saw Molly awake. ‘I’m Jane,’ she said, ‘do you feel up to some breakfast?’ She checked the monitor as she spoke, writing information on the clipboard as she waited for an answer.

‘Coffee would be great.’

‘And a slice of toast?’ The nurse smiled. ‘You’ll feel a lot better if you eat something, you know.’

Smiling at her insistence, Molly agreed to try.