Margot gets up. She feels woolly-headed after all the wine. She needs a warm drink. Adam follows her into the kitchen with the empty wine glasses. ‘I’m sorry I got angry,’ he says, his shoulders relaxing. ‘The note, it was a stupid thing to do. I regret it.’

She clicks the kettle on and Adam sits at the wooden table, his head in his hands. She can’t help but think there’s more to it. Yes, three hundred pounds is a lot of money to lose but that level of anger at a man who died at the hands of your wife? It makes no sense to her.

‘Did you ever get the money back?’

‘No. Clive wouldn’t admit there was a problem. He continued to promise us a puppy.’

She rests a hand on his shoulder. He still has his coat on. She desperately wants to give him the benefit of the doubt. She has to believe in him, for Heather’s sake. For Ethan’s. ‘I’m sorry, Adam.’

He places his hand over hers. They stay like that for a while, then Margot moves away to make hot chocolate. After a few minutes she hands Adam a mug. ‘Here, drink this.’

‘Thanks.’ He takes a sip, even though it’s piping hot.

She sits next to him, at the head of the table. ‘So is that what you argued about? The night before? Money? The puppy?’

He lifts his head, his eyes puzzled. ‘No. Heather was on my side about all that. She thought Clive was just stringing us along, too. No, it was something else. She …’ He stares at his mug intently, not meeting Margot’s eyes.

‘What then?’

‘She got this idea in her head that –’

They are interrupted by the shrill sound of the landline.

Adam jumps up. ‘It’s a bit late for phone calls. It could be Mum ringing about Ethan, or the hospital.’ His face is grey.

Margot is on her feet, too, almost running to the little half-moon table in the hallway where the phone is.

‘Hello.’

‘Hello, Margot? It’s Gary – Gary Ruthgow.’

Her heart picks up speed. ‘Gary …’

‘I’m sorry to be calling late. But we’ve found a body. Remains. Bones, really, dating back fifteen to twenty years. And we’re not a hundred per cent sure yet, but …’ Margot’s legs threaten to buckle underneath her weight ‘… I think you should know we’re looking into the possibility that it could be Flora.’

Chapter 34

34

August 1994

Heather’s hand trembled so violently that the riding crop fell from her fingers to the grass at her feet. Dylan cowered before her and she noticed blood seeping through his thin tie-dye T-shirt. What had she done?