Page 3

TWO

NOW, FRIDAY 24 JANUARY

Rowan is silent while Kate recounts meeting Jamie last Friday, and although his expression is impossible to read, his mind must be whirring with all the fresh judgements he’ll be making about her.

‘Do you think badly of me?’ Kate asks.

‘You’re perfectly entitled to spend the night with anyone you wish to,’ Rowan says. ‘You’re separated, and this man is too. It only matters how you feel about it.’ He frowns, leaning forward. ‘But I’m concerned about this woman you think wants to kill you. Can you tell me more?’

The way Rowan says this makes it sound farcical, as though there is nothing threatening and it’s all a figment of Kate’s distorted imagination. She needs to find a way to make him believe her, without having to tell him the whole truth. This is not just about Jamie. Kate’s life has taken a detour and she needs to find her way back.

‘I’m a little confused,’ Rowan says. ‘Who is this woman?’

His lips are moving but Kate can no longer hear him. Now there is only Jamie filling her head.

She parks on the road opposite Jamie’s building. What if he doesn’t remember asking her to come back today? What if he’s changed his mind? They’d exchanged numbers last night but neither of them has sent a message to confirm. But his invitation had been clear, as he kissed her goodbye when her Uber turned up that morning. He’d said it would be nice to spend the afternoon together, that he didn’t want it to just be about last night.

A car pulls up as she approaches the gate, and the driver inserts a code into the panel, the gate easing open after a few seconds. Kate slips behind him as he drives through, hoping he doesn’t challenge her.

Before she can change her mind, she rushes up to the main door and presses the buzzer for the penthouse apartment. Seconds tick by with no answer. Glancing around, she sees a middle-aged couple walking towards her, their arms linked together. They’re talking animatedly and don’t notice Kate until they reach the door. And even when they acknowledge her with a brief glance, they don’t try to stop her entering the building.

Again, Kate hesitates, but just before the door closes, she reaches out to stop it, and steps inside. The hallway looks different with daylight seeping through the large windows. The oak flooring and stairs match the banisters, and pots of flowers sit in each corner of the lobby, above them a large framed print of an autumn forest.

Instead of taking the lift, she walks up the three flights to Jamie’s floor, and with every step her doubts grow stronger. But she’s here now so feels compelled to see what will happen.

At his door, she knocks, surprised to find that the door eases open. Jamie must have left it open for her. ‘Hello?’ She pushes the door further and waits. Kate doesn’t want to step inside until Jamie invites her in.

But he doesn’t answer, and silence crashes around her. Immediately she knows something is wrong. She calls again, this time stepping inside.

‘Jamie? It’s Kate. From last night.’

Nothing.

Heading through the hallway, she enters the living room, stopping short when she sees him lying on the floor. ‘Jamie?’

But he’s not moving, and as Kate gets closer, she realises the contorted position he’s in is all wrong. Arms outstretched, legs splayed, one of them twisted behind his body. And then her eyes fix on the large pool of crimson surrounding him.

It’s happening again. Just like before.

All the air is sucked from Kate’s lungs and her gasp echoes through the room. Doubling over, her legs almost give way and she can’t seem to move. She stares at Jamie’s body, unable to compute that this is real; it feels like something she’s watching on television.

Then it hits her, and a surge of adrenalin kicks in. She needs to help him. She rushes to him and kneels on the floor, praying that he’s still breathing. ‘Come on, Jamie,’ Kate whispers into the silent apartment. She needs to save him. He can’t be dead. She won’t let him die. But when she leans in, no breath comes from his open mouth, and when she clutches his wrist, there is no hint of a pulse.

Jamie is dead.

A tsunami of panic rises in Kate’s body; she can’t be here, not after last time. No one will ever believe she’s innocent. She jumps up and runs.

Outside on the road, Kate scrambles in her bag for her car fob and opens the car door. She shoves her phone in the charger underneath the dashboard, and then she realises her house keys aren’t in her bag. She hunts in the glove compartment and under the seats, but they’re not there. She would never leave them in the car – she had them with her, she knows she did. Glancing back at the apartment block, Kate realises she must have lost them on her way up to Jamie’s flat, or even worse, inside it.

Nausea swirls in her stomach as she gets back out of the car, looking around to see if there are any CCTV cameras. There’s no sign of any, but this does little to alleviate her anxiety. And now she has no choice but to go back up there and face Jamie’s dead body again.

The bitter chill wraps itself around Kate as she hurries to the door. Then she remembers she can’t get inside unless someone buzzes her in. Frantically, she looks around but there’s no one in the car park, and no sign of anyone coming out. Taking her chances, she presses the button for flat nine.

‘Hello?’ a female voice asks, after a few seconds.

‘Delivery,’ Kate says, steadying her voice so it won’t betray her lie.

The door buzzes open, and she pushes through it, racing up the stairs to the top floor. As she approaches Jamie’s door, Kate slows down. It terrifies her to have to go in there again, but she has no choice – her keys are in there and she can’t leave behind evidence that she’s been in his flat. She’s sickened that it’s too late for her to help Jamie, but she can’t get tied up in this. She’s only just met him and she has Thomas to think of. When this all comes out, how will she ever explain to her son that she spent the night with a stranger? One who is now dead.

Taking a deep breath, Kate reaches out to push the door, and it doesn’t budge. It’s shut now. And there’s no way for her to get inside.

For the second time this morning, she runs from Jamie’s flat.

‘Kate?’

She snaps back to the present, focusing her attention on Rowan. Kate needs to tell him that Jamie is dead, but she can’t let Rowan know she’s the one who found him. He would immediately be on the phone to the police and Kate can’t deal with that – not after last time. And Rowan would never risk his career by staying silent. Kate could never ask that of him.

‘The man I slept with died,’ Kate says.

‘Oh,’ Rowan says. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Can I ask how he died?’

‘It was natural causes. An issue with his heart.’

‘That’s very sad,’ Rowan says. ‘I imagine that’s affecting you.’

Kate nods. It’s possible he can still help her, even if she can’t tell him the whole truth. ‘The woman who wants to kill me…it’s Jamie’s wife. And I think she knows I slept with him.’

Rowan’s eyes widen. In all the time Kate’s been coming here to this mews house in Kensington, she’s never seen him taken by surprise, no matter what she’s disclosed to him.

‘Okay. I can understand how that can be alarming. Has she said something or done something to make you believe this? Has she approached you?’

Kate nods. ‘Yes, a few days ago.’

‘And she’s told you that she knows about you and her husband?’

‘Not exactly. But it’s all too much of a coincidence.’

Rowan clears his throat. ‘Then what makes you think she wants to harm you?’

Kate ignores Rowan’s question, her mind is already steps ahead. ‘What if all this with Jamie is to do with him ?’

There’s no hint of judgement on Rowan’s face – no hint of anything other than eagerness to explore this further. ‘Okay,’ he says. ‘You think this is about what happened when you were fifteen?’

‘When it all comes down to it – everything is about him, isn’t it?