There it is, though. The doorbell. Loud, ringing, penetrating our nice romantic dinner. I look at my watch. It is too early for Adam. Which means it is a surprise person, someone I do not want. Best to pretend not to be here.
Nicole does not seem to agree, as she starts screaming again. I clamp my hand across her face. She bites me and then starts screaming again.
Fine. Time for the gag.
Not a speciality one this time – that’s with Ally. This is more basic. I pull off my socks, stuffs them in her mouth, then whip off my belt and tie it round her face. The screaming stops, but the ringing continues.
Leaving Nicole in the kitchen, I creep into the hallway and into the bedroom. I snake along the floor on my stomach. If I can peer through the curtain without being seen, I will know who is out there. I can make the choice. Slowly, I rise up, and edge my eyes into the small gap between curtain and frame.
Outside, I see a Maserati.
And Adam.
I fall back down again.
He is here.
Adam, at my home. Adam, wanting to enter.
Adam, too early.
But I cannot deny him. It is not for me to turn him away, if he cannot wait to be with me again. Perhaps the long game is over?
And he cannot wait, for he shouts through the letterbox: ‘Dan, Nicole – I know you’re in there. Open up!’
I must obey, Dan must obey.
I stand, and knock on the window to show that I am coming. Adam looks at me and bobs his head. There is also a movement from the Maserati. He is not alone. Jimmy. It must be Jimmy. But why would Jimmy come here, with Adam, to collect his wife?
Only Adam can answer.
I turn to walk out of the bedroom. Book three stares at me openly from the bed. I would like to close it, I should close it, but it feels wide open now, no longer secret. But as long as Nicole stays gagged in the kitchen, he will not know. The book’s secrets are still safe from their only important audience, the audience who must never read it, must never know. I close it again, lock it in the box, put it under the bed, and go to open the door to Adam.
I slide back the catch, push down the handle, open the door, and there he is – shining in the lamp light. Only his face, though, because he is all dressed in black. I could have sworn, earlier, that he was wearing the pink shirt, the one with the little pink cufflinks bursting through. But maybe he has dressed to see us. I’m not sure if he is pleased to see me. I put out a hand to shake his in greeting, but he keeps his behind his back.
‘You brought Jimmy?’ I ask him.
‘Yes,’ he says, pushing into the hallway, closing the door behind him, still with hands behind his back. ‘Where’s Nic?’ he asks.
I wonder what he will think when he sees that I have gagged and bound his wife. I had not thought of that. Perhaps I should delay him, tell him she is in the bathroom, usher him into the bedroom while we wait for her. But book three is in the bedroom. Can I trust it to stay closed while it is sat beneath him? Will it not spring open and reveal its secrets?
‘Where’s Nic?’ he repeats.
And even if it does not, what then? I cannot untie her. Do I go into the kitchen now, ahead of him, and penetrate her, quickly, while Adam is not looking, get the closeness? Because the way that Adam is looking at me, I don’t know that there is ever a prospect of being close to him again.
‘Is she through here?’ he asks, pushing past me. I see for a moment his back. He is carrying something, wrapped up, in a carrier bag. Something that appears to have a handle. Which he is holding, with gloves. Then he puts his back to the wall again, and pushes me forward into the kitchen.
Nicole sits, still gagged and bound.
When Adam comes in, I see her first reaction is one of relief. Adam, her rescuer! Her eyes plead to Adam to release her. But then something else clouds them. Fear.
Adam rushes towards Nicole and undoes her make-shift gag. He goes to kiss her but she keeps her lips closed, twists her face away.
Then she opens them to speak.
‘Adam,’ she says, in barely a whisper. ‘My love. Tell me something. Tell me you didn’t kill Helen.’