She walked on, turned around and retraced her steps. Curiosity, always her biggest fault, drove her to open the garden gate and, with a glance around to make sure the coast was clear, she sidled up to the edge of the living-room window. The net curtains, a relic she assumed of the same parents who’d left their mark on the dining room, blurred her view, but the heavy drapes to either side provided her with a shield to peer around.

Through the glass, she could hear the faint to and fro of conversation. When it stopped, she risked a glance around the edge of her shield. Of the two sofas in the room, only one was occupied. Pressing her nose to the glass, she was close enough to see Tweedledum’s bad comb-over. Peering past him, she could see the coffee table was empty. It made her reconsider the man’s occupation. An undertaker would have brought brochures, wouldn’t he? Photographs of coffins for Allison’s delectation.

The small, round man was unlikely to be a lover. Too short to be a police officer. Just then, Tweedle lifted his wrist, shucking the sleeve back to expose his watch. And cufflinks. A solicitor, perhaps. Yes, that made sense. Allison would want to know exactly where she stood.

Jo took a step backward and looked up at the house. This part of London. Two million, easily. Probably more despite the ghastly kitchen and dining room. Not bad for a few months of marriage.

With no sign of Allison returning, Jo slipped across to the other side of the window, which allowed her to see the living-room doorway. Allison wouldn’t be expecting anyone to be peering in; Jo could safely watch, maybe get a clue to what was being said.

She was mildly irritated, and a little amused, to see Allison was out to impress the man with a fancy teapot and cups and saucers. Different to the mugs she’d offered Jo. Something else she’d make her pay for.

A few minutes later, she saw Allison’s expression change. Even through the soft-focus layer of netting, it was obvious she’d heard something shocking. Jo risked pressing closer. Whatever Tweedledum was saying had been unexpected, and it wasn’t good news.

It was frustrating to be standing there out of the loop. Jo pulled back when Allison put down her cup and saucer and stared straight ahead. Oddly, it looked as if she was in shock. Jo sneered. Perhaps she’d just learnt the extent of her wealth. Maybe the house was worth much more than she’d expected. Three million, perhaps. And perhaps millions more in the bank and yet more in insurance policies. Gazillions of pounds. It would be enough to shock Jo.