His words make me feel young and stupid because he’s right. I fell for Max before I’d even had a conversation with him because he was gorgeous. And the reason he’s only my friend, the reason he hasn’t fallen right back, is because I am definitely not gorgeous. I am ordinary. But does it make me feel any better to know I’m as bad as him? Of course it doesn’t, it just makes it obvious my feelings for him will be forever unrequited and it bloody hurts.

“Tess,” Greg says, taking the clippers from me before I cut through the rose I’m supposed to be pruning. “You’re funny and creative and you’re going to grow up so lovely. You’re only fifteen—what’s the hurry?”

What’s the hurry? Bella has always been the person I’ve talked about everything to and that is another stab wound, knowing I can’t tell this to her because she wouldn’t understand, because she’s never been ordinary, because I’ve seen Max look at her the way I look at him. How long before she looks back and sees what I see? That’s the hurry. I don’t have bloody time to wait to grow up lovely.

God, sometimes I wish I were an only child.

“Come on,” he says. “I’ll walk you back. It’s getting late—you shouldn’t be walking alone.”

I shrug. “They’ve caught someone for the murders, haven’t they? We’re back to being a nice, safe village.”

He pauses, halfway through putting his jacket on. “Actually, they’ve released the guy they arrested.”

“What?”

“Rock-solid alibi, I heard.”

“But…”

But that means the murderer is still on the loose. I think of Bella roaming the woods on her own at night. I think of Jack and Sean taking her to murder sites and I shiver.

A few days later, I’m back at Dean House and for once I go to the front door rather than round the back of the garden, but there’s no answer when I knock. I realize I haven’t been inside the house since that long-ago New Year’s party. Greg sometimes brings out drinks and biscuits when we garden, but he always goes in by himself. I go around the side to knock on the back door instead and freeze with my hand poised to knock. I can see him in the kitchen and he has someone with him. Her back is to me, but I’d recognize her blond hair anywhere. She’s clutching the jacket she left behind the last time she was there. He reaches over and touches her bowed head and jealousy races through my body, hot and painful. It’s like the Max situation all over again. He’s never once invited me into the house, but Bella is in there again.