To the back of the house, she found a large spare bedroom overlooking a rather beautiful and lushly planted garden. This would do nicely for her.

It took her less than thirty minutes to unpack her bags. The old wardrobe was cavernous, the chest of drawers equally so. Her meagre selection of clothes were lost inside. Perhaps, with two million, she could buy clothes and keep them rather than having to bring them back. Money had never been a driving force… this is what she kept telling herself all the years she’d looked for Allison, the years stalking her… but maybe it was simply because she’d never had it.

Two million pounds. That could maybe change her thinking.

Restless, she returned to the main bedroom and rummaged through the drawers, finding little of interest, amused rather than surprised by the vibrator she found in the bottom drawer of the dresser. Downstairs, she did the same, opening cupboards, peering inside. Nothing interesting. In fact, for all their money and fancy designer clothes, Allison and Peter were rather dull.

They had good taste in wine, though. Jo took a bottle of Pinot Noir from the rack and opened it. With a large glass in her hand, she stood looking out at the back garden. Where was Allison? Gone shopping for food to celebrate Jo’s arrival? Highly unlikely.

Food, though, was a good point. She opened the fridge. They liked their cheese, too. Unfortunately, Jo didn’t. She’d more success in the freezer and took out a frozen chicken curry and a smaller carton of rice.

The microwave was a complicated contraption that took her a minute to figure out, shoving both containers inside and pressing buttons randomly until it whirred into life.

It was nice to have the place to herself, to play pretend it was her home. She was humming happily as she searched for a plate and cutlery. She wasn’t going to sit in that miserable dining room with her solitary meal. When she had the meal dished up, she found a tray and took it into the living room, returning for her glass of wine, hesitating only seconds before taking the bottle too. It had been a long time since she’d had wine, longer still since she’d had wine as good as this.

She quickly discovered she’d overheated the food. It was volcanic. Leaving it to cool, she switched on the TV and channel-hopped to find something to watch. An old black-and-white movie with a very young Cary Grant in the lead role fitted her mood.

When it was over, her dinner finished and the wine bottle nearly empty, Allison still hadn’t returned. Jo checked her mobile on the off-chance there was a message from her, unsurprised to find none. She sent one of her own, weighing heavily on sarcasm.

Hi, remember me?