She leans across the table and puts her hand on my arm. ‘But … but … what about your job, Miles?’

‘I’m working from home for a while.’

‘Well if you need me, I’d come back anytime.’ She pushes her knees closer to mine. I wriggle away.

‘Actually, working from home at the moment is fine with me.’

Fortunately our conversation is interrupted by the main courses arriving. I eat my chicken and mushroom pie, which tastes like frozen pastry and tinned meat. Nothing special. She demolishes her steak. We lean back in our chairs, replete.

‘That was delicious,’ she says. Her cheeks are red. Drinking at lunchtime has made her flushed. ‘I need to pop to the loo,’ she announces.

She shimmies away, swinging her behind provocatively. I look down. She has left her iPhone on the table. This is it. This is my opportunity. This is why I wanted to meet her.

As soon as she has walked around the corner, I grab her iPhone. I know her passcode. I had to borrow her phone once and she gave it to me; a contortion of her birthday – easy to remember. Hands trembling, stomach tight, worried she will return too quickly and catch me, I manage to put the iPhone tracker on her phone, and synch it with mine. I sigh inside with relief. Now I will know where she is at all times. If she goes anywhere near you, Saffron, I’ll be there to protect my you, my love. Hayley will not get away with anything. As soon as she makes a move, I will jump.

183

Hayley

Miles, lunch was rather stilted, a bit awkward at times. You are stringing me along, arranging to meet me, without making a proper move yet. But you wouldn’t have arranged to meet me if you weren’t interested. You wouldn’t take the risk. What if Saffron finds out?

You asked me how I knew about Saffron being back at work full-time. I smile inside. I have my secrets. No need to divulge too much information yet. You sounded scared. Overprotective. Don’t worry, Miles. When she’s dead I’ll make you happy. Grief is just a process. You’ll get through it in the end.

184

Saffron

Julie has just shown in my new client, Crispin Montague. He first made money in the mining industry in South Africa. When he moved to the UK he bought a string of nightclubs, restaurants and high-end fashion retail outlets. He is beginning to acquire stately homes, which he turns into luxury hotels: Grantley Hall, Ripon, the Castle Leslie estate, County Monaghan, Ireland, and Leeds Castle in Kent.

He is settling into the leather armchair in front of my desk.

‘Can I get you a tea or coffee?’ Julie asks.

‘Skinny vanilla latte,’ he requests.