made a sudden left turn toward the ring road. She picked up the pace, and roared out onto the M27, listening for the sound of the phone ringing again. It stayed quiet for the ten minutes it took her to get to the Holiday Inn.
Her legs were unsteady as she climbed out of the car. She thought about leaving the phone, but somehow not knowing what he was saying was worse.
She reached in to pick it up, and grabbed the small overnight bag from the back of the car. She’d thought about taking it out once she’d broken up with him, as it had really been there for times she decided to stay over without planning to. But she hadn’t quite got round to it.
Midway across the car park, the phone buzzed again. She didn’t want to read his messages.
She found herself opening it anyway.
Are you not coming home, then? Are you staying with a man?
She thought about ignoring him. But she decided it wouldn’t help.
No. I’m working. Sorry.
He was already typing again by the time she’d sent it.
So if I turned up at the station, you’d be there? That’s what I should do, then.
She typed back quickly. You know that’s not appropriate.
There was almost no pause at all before he replied.
Haha! You’re a fucking liar. You’re with a man, aren’t you? I knew you’d left me for someone else. You were cheating on me, weren’t you? You fucking slut.
Hanson felt as though she half stumbled, half floated into the Holiday Inn. There was no queue, which was lucky, as she wasn’t convinced that she’d be able to stand for long without falling. She booked a room for the night and didn’t even hear how much it was going to cost her. And then she carried the phone carefully upstairs, and laid it on the bedside table next to her to wait for the series of messages she knew was going to come.
* * *
—
JONAH HAMMERED ON the front door, and then, barely pausing, tried the handle. The door swung open on the unlit hallway. There was a thin haze of smoke, and through the conservatory at the back of the house a bright, wavering glow.
It was an outbuilding that was on fire, he realized. But it was dangerously close to the house, and he doubted they had long before the cottage itself went up.
He took a few steps inside. None of the downstairs lights were on, which meant she had probably gone to bed.
“Jojo!” he called, and started to climb the bare wooden stairs two at a time. He didn’t have time to worry about intruding. The slightly acrid smoke was only going to increase as the blaze got worse, and if she was sleeping, she was in real danger.
He rounded the corner in the stairs, and took the last few steps onto the landing. He saw three open doors, one of them a bathroom. He called out to her again, and ducked into the door to his left.
It was a spartan double room with cushions piled on the bed, and he moved back out immediately. A guest room, he was certain.
There was still no sound of movement as he pushed the door open fully onto the other room. It was a large, airy room with wooden boards on the floor and skylights in the roof. It was in darkness, but he could make out the duvet and pillows on the bed. They were carefully made, and the bed was empty.
That empty bed sent a surge of unease through Jonah, coupled with the lights being off and her car being parked outside. She had to be here somewhere. Unless she was where the fire was…
He moved back out as quickly as he could, feeling the slight bite of smoke in his throat.
“Jojo!” he yelled again, and ran down the stairs and along the hallway until he was in the large space of the sitting room and conservatory at the back of the cottage. And suddenly he could see the fire through the glass. It was tearing through the outbuildings that adjoined the house, a ferocious, hungry blaze. Silhouetted in front of it was a short-haired figure.
He moved toward the garden door, slightly light-headed with relief. Jojo turned as he opened it, her eyes wide and her arms folded across her, almost as if she were cold in spite of the heat coming off the blaze.
He had a moment to take in the