I called and asked Jack if he’d found my jewellery; he said he hadn’t and when I asked to come over and look, he told me he was busy. It would’ve been the perfect opportunity to take the photograph from his office. He’s lying; I’m sure he has my rings, and this is some cruel punishment for trespassing in his office.
Desperate to get inside Jack’s house, I popped over to visit Kathryn, claiming my mixer was broken, and asked very imploringly if I could borrow hers. Kathryn is such a gentle soul, she welcomed me in. ‘Would you like a drink, darling?’
‘Oh yes, thank you. I can’t stay long; I have a lot to do before my dinner party this evening.’
And while she bustled into the kitchen, I sprang to work, flipping open the little dove-grey key box in her hallway to find Jack’s spare. I know she has one; she’s been round to water his plants when he’s gone on long business trips or holidays. I kept her talking. ‘Have you seen Mum lately?’ I asked, scanning all the little keys on hooks without really listening to her answer. Kathryn is exceptionally organised and every one of them was labelled with a little plastic fob. As soon as my fingers curled around the one labelled ‘Jack’， I felt a huge load of stress ease from my shoulders. I closed the box, slipped the key into my coat pocket and took up my position by the door.
‘Your parents have a new lease of life since finding out it wasn’t Elodie,’ she said, her voice growing louder as she came down the hall towards me. ‘Great news, you must be so relieved.’
And I was right there again, in the mortuary beside Dad, staring down at the face of a dead girl I didn’t know, sickened by the bruises which circled her neck, standing out against her paper-white skin like black ink smudges. I could still feel the weight of our dad as he clung to me, relief making both our knees weak.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘We’re relieved but very sad for her family.’
Kathryn swallowed, looking unsure of herself. ‘Absolutely. Of course.’
The girl has since been identified as Amy Heath, a twenty-eight-year-old nurse from a village just outside Crosshaven. I read the newspaper article reporting her death and the statements of grief made by her family and thought, Thank god it wasn’t you, and I didn’t even feel guilty for it.
Just as I parked down the road from Jack’s, I called Christopher. ‘I got the key,’ I said.
‘What key?’
‘Jack’s house key.’
‘I told you not to break in there.’
‘Is it breaking in if I have a key?’
‘Yes,’ he said, exasperated.
‘Well, I’m here now and I wanted to tell you that you can expect a copy of the photograph this afternoon.’ Which was partly true. If I’m honest with you, I told him just in case something happened to me in there and I didn’t come back out.
‘Ada,’ he said seriously. I heard the rustle of clothing and I imagined him roughly pulling on his coat. ‘Do not enter his house.’
‘Don’t worry, it’s Thursday – Jack goes into the city on Thursdays.’
‘I’m coming to meet you. Wait for me.’
I waited ten minutes before I got out of my car and walked towards Jack’s. I was so eager to get inside, I wanted to sprint, but that would draw attention. If a neighbour caught me entering, I’d tell them I was scoping out the space for a surprise birthday party we were organising for him in January. That way, the neighbour wouldn’t let on to Jack I’d been there.
I’d just pushed the key into the lock when Christopher appeared at the end of the driveway. ‘Ada,’ he whispered fiercely.
Veins flooded with adrenaline, I turned the key and pushed inside.
‘What the hell?’ he hissed, hurrying after me.
‘Get in here before someone sees you,’ I snapped.
He hesitated only a second before crossing the threshold and closing the door behind him. He glowered at me. ‘We need to leave,’ he said. ‘Now.’
‘As soon as I’ve got the picture, we will.’ Before he could say another word, I jogged up the stairs and swung into the study.
My mouth fell open in an ‘O’ of shock – the photograph was gone and in its place was another. A framed quote, ‘All is fair in love and war.’
‘Bastard,’ I breathed.
‘Where’s the photograph?’ asked Christopher, coming up behind me.
‘Gone.’ I kicked the shredder beside the desk. It toppled over. I was angry, so very angry. ‘All is fair in love and war … he is an arrogant son of a bitch.’