about. It is his paranoia I fear. Last night he locked me in the cloakroom for a ‘misdemeanour’ – his word for not aligning his suits properly. I think it was just an excuse to punish me because his friend talked to me. He does not want his friends to know what he is like when we are alone.
Tess turned another page.
I met with my friend today. We went to McDonald’s, a place he would never step foot in. I’ve asked her to help me find somewhere to live, but I’m not sure she will. I saw the confusion in her eyes. She cannot understand why I would just walk away. She thinks having money has given me power. How little she knows. Nothing is ever mine.
Tess closed the book. She had read enough for now. It was like reading something familiar yet unknown. She needed facts not feelings. Fact one: this woman had lived in that house. Fact two: she had been married to an abusive man. Fact three: she was trying to run away. Fact four: she feared for her life.
She feared for her life.
Tess felt her blood run cold.
Was she Daniel’s first wife?
Had he only pretended to look for a property while staying with Vivien and Mark? Did he already own the house? As how else would the old lady know about him unless he’d lived there before? Tess needed a name. This diary didn’t give her one. She would start by looking for it in that house. She had discovered the book there, so how many other discoveries might she find? The library room was full of old books she could flick through. She had dusted and cleaned most of the rooms, but she hadn’t put her hands down the backs or sides of sofas and armchairs. She hadn’t pulled drawers out from cupboards or taken books off shelves. There could be an old bill left lying around or something that had a name on it. She was sickened by a disquieting thought. Had he killed her?
Chapter Thirty-Three
Tess was sitting in semi-darkness when she woke. She jumped in fright and gave a little squeal as she saw him sitting in an armchair watching her.
‘You frightened me,’ she gasped.
His legs and arms were casually crossed, his face inscrutable.
‘Who are you seeing?’ he asked in a hushed tone.
‘What!’
He switched on the lamp beside him. By the side of his chair he picked up her rucksack and placed it on his lap. Her insides quivered. What was he talking about? She’d changed back into her green sensible dress on board the train and wiped her face and mouth clean of make-up and lipstick. And the notebook, thank God, she put in her jacket pocket.
‘Clothes, make-up, lipstick,’ he said, naming items she knew to be there.
His tone was still soft and she tried to explain. ‘I thought it would be easier to sort out the flat in my jeans and a top, and I was going to put on some make-up to… look… pretty.’
‘Pretty? For who?’ he pressed, his voice ever so slightly changed. ‘Who did you want to look pretty for?’
‘For myself.’
‘Yourself!’ he softly exclaimed, before giving her a knowing, amused look. He opened the rucksack and peered inside. A moment later he fetched out a tube of lipstick, uncapped it and twisted it until a pink nub appeared. ‘Show me,’ he said, and handed her the tube.
She frowned at the thing in her hand. ‘It’s difficult without a mirror.’
‘Try.’
Raising the lipstick to her mouth, she barely touched her lips.
‘More.’
This time she pressed firmly, following the outline of her lips and coating them fully. When done, she sat back, trembling, waiting for the verdict. He inspected her slowly and then gently took the lipstick out of her hand and repeated the process. And then again over her lips and around her mouth. And again – only wider, pressing hard beneath her nose and in the centre of her chin.
He recapped the lipstick and studied her face. ‘I don’t think you look pretty. If I’m honest I think you look…’ His expression was regretful as if what he was about to say was something hurtful. ‘Like a clown. Yes, a clown.’ He sighed and stood up and walked away a little so that he could inspect her from afar. He eyed her for several moments. ‘You know, you remind me of when I was a junior doctor. I did a stint in plastic surgery. There was a chap who needed