‘What the hell are you playing at?’ Jane said to herself, watching Nick sink down in the driver’s seat.

Jane put her slippers on, hurried downstairs and opened the front door. She heard the Range Rover’s engine start and watched as it slowly pulled away from the kerb with no lights on. She walked into the middle of the road and stood with her hands on her hips blocking the way. The car stopped in front of her, and she marched up to the driver’s side window.

‘Are you bloody well spying on me?’ she demanded.

Nick slowly wound down the window, shame-faced. ‘No. I was trying to build up the courage to knock on your door and talk to you.’

‘Did you come here last night as well?’ she asked brusquely. Nick nodded.

‘We definitely need to talk, then,’ she said, spotting Gerry watching from his living-room window.

‘Are you seeing—’ Nick began.

‘Not out here!’ She stomped indoors.

Nick parked his car and followed her inside.

‘What the hell is going on, Nick?’ she asked as he entered the living room.

‘I saw you kissing another man,’ he said. ‘If there’s someone else, I’d rather you just told me and ended our relationship.’

She raised her eyebrows. ‘There’s nobody else. It certainly wasn’t me you saw kissing someone.’

‘I know what I saw, Jane,’ he replied.

‘Where and when was this supposed to have happened?’

‘Yesterday afternoon. I’d just left my father’s place and saw you outside the house next to St Mary’s. You were with a tall, dark-haired man in a grey tracksuit. You were touching his arm . . . then you hugged and kissed him.’

Jane was dumbstruck as she realised Nick had seen her with Father Chris.

‘It was you, wasn’t it?’ Nick asked, accusingly.

Jane let out a big sigh. ‘Yes, it was, but you’ve misread the whole situation. The man you saw is Father Floridia. He’s the priest at St Mary’s. I didn’t kiss him . . . he hugged and kissed me. It was one small parting peck on the cheek – but believe me, I was as shocked as you were.’

‘Then why were you touching his arm?’

‘He’d been helping me with the investigation. He was upset about Sister Melissa’s murder – so much so that he was questioning his role as a priest. I was just trying to comfort him, that’s all.’

‘Why did he kiss you then?’

‘It was a final goodbye. He’d been told by his superior not to speak to me again. We both thought it best we didn’t have any further contact. He wished me well with the investigation and kissed me on the cheek. I was surprised because I didn’t think it was the sort of thing a priest would do.’

‘Exactly! You must have encouraged him.’

‘This is ridiculous! I did nothing to encourage him.’