“She preyed on you. You were still grieving. Stop beating yourself up.”

“She knew Natalie, from the book club. Maybe I could start there. This could have something to do with her suicide. Revenge on her old book-club pal, maybe.”

“It’s a lead.”

“A lead.” Scott took a large sip of beer. “Three days ago I was happy. Now I’m talking about leads.”

“I know. But we’ll sort this.”

“You know what people said, after Nat…” He saw her flesh, her pale flesh, and he was on his knees, weeping, begging; his heart was pounding up his neck and choking him, and he just wanted her to be okay. Despite all that had happened between them; despite all that could never be shared. He shook his head, dispelling the memories. “When a wife dies, even if it’s a suicide, people blame the husband.”

“Not always.”

“But sometimes,” Scott said firmly, thinking of a couple of people in particular. “Maybe Casey thinks I had something to do with Natalie’s death.”

“All the more reason to find a way to get her to back off,” Gary said. “The idea you had anything to do with it… it’s ridiculous.”

“It’s just an idea. Maybe her motive is something else. Maybe it’s just money.”

“Either way, we need to find out.”

Scott nodded. “There’s something else. I probably should’ve told you this a long time ago. Natalie left a note.”

“What?”

“Yeah. It made no sense. Down by the hangman’s broken tree, we carved our names, and I hope that’s where I’m going now. I planned on trying to find out what she meant, once I’d stopped grieving, if it ever stops. But then Casey came into my life and I forgot about everything except her. I wanted to put the past behind me.”

The last part was true, wanting to put the past behind him. The rest, forgetting it, was a lie; he’d never forget that note, the sinking feeling in his gut as he read it, as though all the pain and growth and arguments and setbacks and love and hate had meant nothing. There was somebody else. But he wanted it all to die, the relationship with his first wife. Everything to crumble away.

“I thought I’d reinvented myself,” he muttered, feeling the alcohol hit him.

“What does it mean?” Gary asked. “The note.”

“I have no idea. But it’s time I found out. I still don’t know why she did it, why she took her own… we were happy, I think. I hope we were.” Scott’s head swam, and he realised he was going to have to get a taxi home; he also knew his friend could never know the depths of his relationship with Nat. “If Casey’s doing this because of Natalie’s suicide, solving the note might help.”

“What is it again?” Gary asked. Scott repeated it, and Gary typed it into his phone. “I have to say it, just so it’s been said.”

“What?”

“You should go to the police. What she’s doing is illegal.”