Rowlands was looking from side to side but shook his head. ‘No. Where do you keep yours?’

‘In my pocket.’

‘Yeah, but you’re not really a girl, are you – she must have a bag or something.’

Jessica ignored the first half of the constable’s remark. ‘All right, I’ve got an idea. When she gets back, keep hold of your mug but only take the odd sip.’

Rowlands looked at her suspiciously. ‘What are you going to do?’ Jessica had no intention of answering but Deborah entered the room shortly after with three mugs of tea. She placed them on a table and then settled into a reclining seat facing them. Rowlands picked up his mug and took a small sip.

‘How can I help you?’ Deborah asked.

Jessica tried to sound as empathetic as she could. ‘We’re just here to make sure you’re okay after . . . everything.’

Deborah nodded. ‘Oh, right. Thanks for coming. It’s been hard with the neighbours. Some of our old friends have been back in contact and said they couldn’t believe it about what had happened. You think you know someone . . .’

Jessica didn’t want it to sound like an interrogation. ‘How long ago did you divorce?’ she asked, already knowing the answer.

‘Around six years.’

‘It must be hard for you?’

Deborah was clearly revelling in the gentle questioning. She put her feet up on the seat, cradling her mug in the same way Rowlands was doing. ‘I just can’t understand why he would do something like that.’

Jessica slipped her hand into her pocket as she listened to the woman’s response. It was so guarded, so perfect, the words were barely worth paying attention to. In the brief silence after Deborah had finished speaking, a cheery pop song begun playing from somewhere outside the room. For a moment, the woman looked confused, then she hopped up, returning her mug to the table. ‘Sorry, that’s my phone,’ she said, going quickly out to the hallway, returning moments later with a puzzled look on her face, holding the phone in the air. ‘Um, it’s you . . .’ she said.

Jessica put her hand in her pocket and took out her phone, swiping her fingers across the screen with a puzzled look on her face. ‘Sorry, I must have left it unlocked and called by accident. It’s not the first time, I once called my mum fifteen times in an hour when I was in the cinema. She told me she would pick it up and hear a rustling noise, then she’d hang up but it would ring again two minutes later.’

Jessica kept hold of her phone as Deborah returned to the armchair, putting hers on the armrest. Jessica hadn’t known if her number had been stored on the other woman’s phone but it really didn’t matter.

‘I’m not great with technology either,’ the woman said, pointing towards the phone. ‘I’m not sure of half the things it can do.’

Jessica nodded enthusiastically. ‘I’m like that too. I only found out mine could do this a few days ago.’ She turned the phone around so the screen was facing Deborah and swiped her hand across the front wildly, swinging her elbow back and knocking into Rowlands’s hand. The tea he was holding cascaded over the top of the mug, spilling into his lap. Dave yelped and jumped up, dripping more of the liquid onto the floor.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Jessica exclaimed but Deborah was already on her feet.

‘Quick, quick, through here,’ she said, beckoning the constable towards her as she rushed out.

With the room empty, Jessica reached across and snatched the woman’s phone from the armrest. She pulled the back compartment off, forcing her nails into the small gap and taking the battery out to ensure it couldn’t ring before putting everything in her other pocket.

Jessica walked through to the kitchen where she saw Deborah dabbing at Dave’s crotch in a way that would have been hilarious, if what she had just done hadn’t been so serious.

Jessica held her own phone in the air. ‘We’ve got to go,’ she said.

Deborah glanced up and nodded at Jessica. If she was suspicious, she did not show it. ‘Are you going to be all right?’ she asked the constable.

Dave grimaced. ‘I’ll be fine.’

Jessica raised the phone higher. ‘Come on, they said it’s urgent.’ She turned to Deborah. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Sturgess, something’s come up. We’ll come back another time.’ The woman nodded and led them back to the front door before saying goodbye.

Rowlands didn’t say a word until they were back in his car with the doors closed. ‘Did you get the phone?’ he asked as he started the engine.

‘Yes.’

‘Couldn’t you have thought of something better than that? You could have asked her to show you where the toilet was or something, then I could have grabbed it.’

‘Sorry. That would probably have worked too.’

The constable indicated and pulled out onto the road. ‘Why couldn’t I spill tea in your lap, then grab the phone?’

‘Because if either of us was going to be touched up by a middle-aged woman, I’d rather it was you.’

Dave laughed but Jessica could tell there was no real amusement in it. He changed his tone. ‘Are we ready?’ he asked seriously. Jessica took the pieces of Deborah’s phone and put it back together, waiting for it to start up. When it arrived at the home screen, she pressed the button to bring up the contacts list.

‘Yeah, we’re ready,’ she said, pointing at one name but knowing her colleague was watching the road.

‘Isn’t she going to realise you took her phone?’

‘I don’t know and I don’t care. She’ll probably think she’s lost it somewhere first of all. By the time she’s checked through the house and called it a few times, I’ll have used it.’

‘Tonight?’

‘Tonight.’

Over the course of her life, Jessica had taught herself not to be nervous. It was a hard thing to describe to other people because apprehension was such a natural emotion. No one would have believed it now but as a twelve-year-old, she was a good athlete. She never practised but could run fast and beat other people with little effort at all. Her dad loved coming to school events and watching her win but, even though she knew she was the best runner, her nerves would become too much for her. She would eye her competitors and wonder what might happen if she tripped, or if one of them got a better start than she did.

Eventually she taught herself to lock the emotions away. Instead of thinking of what might go wrong, Jessica started every race not caring if anything went awry. Though she had grown out of sports, that ability to ignore any nerves was something that had stayed with her.

But now, as she sat in a fold-up chair in Benjamin’s shed, she felt the type of anxiety building she had rarely experienced in over twenty years. In the course of her career, she had had amazing highs and the worst of lows. Nothing compared to the way she had made a mess of things with Adam the first time around and, as she stared at the patched-up floor, Jessica thought of him waiting at home for her. He was the man who pretty much forgave her anything and was quite happy to support her no matter what the consequences were. She wasn’t sure she had forgiven herself for everything that happened with him initially but the fact he had smiled and said it was okay amazed her every morning she woke up next to him.

The night was cold and Jessica could see her breath drifting out of her mouth. She looked up at Annabel, who was sitting in a similar chair. ‘Are you okay?’ Jessica asked. Annabel said nothing but she could see plumes of air coming from the other woman’s mouth too. ‘I’m sorry,’ Jessica added, knowing it meant nothing.

Both women looked up as they heard a gentle tapping sound on the wood at the back of the shed. ‘Be brave,’ Jessica whispered as everything went silent again. She could hear footsteps outside, a mixture of crunching from the frost and squelching from the puddles that hadn’t frozen over. Jessica found herself holding her breath as the door rattled and then opened. In the dark, a silhouette of a man stepped into the room.