At the café in the woods I wait – but Scarlett’s not there. Lots of dog walkers come in and out, and I look for one in a pink Puffa jacket, but there’s no Scarlett.
I drink two large black coffees, and then I think, I can’t wait any more. She’s not answering her phone, and time is running out.
I drive to Malum House. I park up and take a huge breath, and I walk up the drive to knock on the door.
The boy, Luke, answers it.
‘Are your mum and dad here?’
Up close I see that he doesn’t have the looks of his parents – or rather he’s the worst combination of them. ‘My dad is,’ he says, and he looks suspicious. ‘Who shall I say it is?’
But his father has appeared behind him in the hallway, and he knows who I am.
‘Marlena,’ Matthew says, obviously surprised. ‘How’s Jeanie?’
‘Are you bothered?’ I say, and Luke looks like he might cry.
‘Of course I’m bothered.’ Mathew is first taken aback and then angry. ‘I’ve just got off the phone to the hospital. They say she’s stable. They say they may try and wake her later.’
This, I won’t lie, disarms me. But of course he’s next of kin.
‘Oh,’ I say. ‘Can I come in?’
‘Sure.’ He opens the door to me and leads me to the kitchen. ‘Can I offer you a drink?’
‘Is Scarlett here?’ I ask without answering, and he shakes his head. ‘She’s been staying with friends. Since the – incident.’
‘And all the charges have been dropped?’
‘There were no charges…’ He’s angry again. ‘It was malicious rumour.’
‘Do you know who started it?’ I ask.
‘I bloody wish I did.’ Matthew is vehement. ‘But I don’t at the moment. It was a written allegation apparently. The police say it was anonymous. Still.’ He has gained weight since I last saw him, no longer the svelte businessman Jeanie met, but a slightly sweaty, middle-aged guy who looks very dishevelled.
‘And Kaye?’ I keep waiting for her to walk into the room and purr at me, false and proud. ‘Where’s she?’
‘No idea. Why would I know?’ he says distractedly, looking for cups. Everything’s dirty apparently – no handy housekeeping Jeanie any more.
I don’t really want to admit I was poking round the garden yesterday evening, but I’m probably going to have to admit it. As I prepare to make my accusation, Matthew suggests we go into the lounge – ‘It’s tidier’ – and I follow him, annoying plinky jazz playing throughout the house.
‘Sit please,’ Matthew says, but I don’t want to.
I’m about to tell him I’m on to him when a car skids into the drive and pulls up very sharply, just missing the flowerbed.
‘Blimey,’ I say, ‘someone’s in a hurry.’
From the window I can see Kaye getting out – as I expected.
‘News travels fast!’ I raise a brow at Matthew, but to his credit, he looks as surprised as I do. If he has warned her I’m here, he’s a very good actor.
The woman comes storming up the front path in full aerobic gear and Luke, who’s been skulking round in an anxious, hovering sort of way – as if he’s scared he’ll miss something – lets her in.
‘Is Scarlett here?’ Kaye’s straight past her surly son, straight into the room, facing Matthew, hands on Lycra-clad hips.
I deduce from Kaye’s attitude all is not all right between these two.
But last time I saw them, they were kissing.
‘No.’ Matthew rubs his face tiredly. ‘She’s at Alison’s, isn’t she? I’m seeing her later.’
‘She’s bloody well not there.’
I step out of the shadows.
‘Oh you! What are you doing here?’ She narrows cold blue eyes.
‘This is Marlena, Jeanie’s—’
‘I know who she is.’ Her purr is laced with venom. ‘But what I don’t know is why you’re here?’
I might ask her the same thing exactly.
‘I came to talk to my sister’s husband,’ I say politely, though what I’d really like to do is to order her to Fuck right off, Beaky-face.
‘Oh.’ She slumps a little. ‘Right.’
‘I’m interested in the campaign of terror waged against my sister since she moved in.’
‘Terror?’ Matthew pulls a face. ‘A campaign? Oh come on!’
‘Oh come on yourself, mate.’ I’m almost laughing at his denial. ‘You didn’t notice someone trying to scare Jeanie out of her wits?’
‘Oh not again.’ Kaye lays a hand on her chest in well-feigned shock and horror. ‘Luke? I think we have something to say, don’t we, Luke?’
I’m taken aback. I wait for an explanation. We’re all waiting: we all look at Luke.
‘Lucas?’ Matthew frowns. ‘What’s your mother on about?’
‘He can’t help it. He’s just being loyal, aren’t you, baby? You’re the one who’s made life so miserable recently, aren’t you, Lukie – because you were so sad.’
‘Oh Jesus.’ Matthew emits a long whistling breath. ‘Oh for Christ’s sake, Lucas.’
Luke just hangs his head and refuses to look at his parents.
‘You knew?’ I ask Matthew and Kaye, incredulous.
‘What is it you’ve done?’ his father asks him urgently. ‘Lucas?’