She pulled me up from the couch and dragged me over to the window. I stood there as she made her inspection. I was still wearing my work clothes, I suddenly remembered, from the morning before.

Kitty drew in her breath sharply. ‘You have taken it badly, darling, haven’t you? Look at you…you’re emaciated.’

‘I…’ I began, then looked down at myself. I hadn’t noticed, but she was right. My skirt was hanging down, standing away from my hips. It should have been snug to my waist. ‘I kept shaking,’ I said, lamely.

‘Look, lovey.’ Kitty pushed me back over to the sofa. ‘Sit down and listen. This is a golden opportunity for you. Fuck Leo. I’ve fucked Johnno off already. Told him I want a divorce. It’s you and me, now. We’ve got to take our moment to shine.’

‘Shine?’ I looked at Liv, then back at Kitty. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, no more moping around after that bastard,’ she said. ‘While you’ve been skulking around in this…’ She looked around her, as if for the first time, and grimaced. ‘…hellhole, I’ve been courting the press…issuing statements…press releases…generally playing the poor injured wifey. I’m knackered, believe me, but you’ve got to maximise your exposure while you can.’

‘But I don’t want exposure.’

The horror must’ve shown on my face, because she laughed and stroked my cheek. ‘Yes you do,’ she said. ‘Silly. Exposure equals earnings potential. If you’re really splitting up with Leo, you’re going to need money. You can’t survive on the money you make in that ridiculous job, now, can you?’

I expected Liv to butt in again at this point, furious, but she didn’t. I didn’t know what to say, and looked to her, hoping she’d argue my case. Instead, she looked at Kitty, then back at me. ‘I don’t know, Grace,’ she said, slowly. ‘I think she may be right.’

I didn’t know what to say. It was all too much…too sudden.

Kitty took matters into her own hands, anyway. ‘Good,’ she said. ‘That’s settled, then. I’ll ring Jimmy in the morning - let him know to get in touch with you.’

‘Who’s Jimmy?’ I said, feeling as if I’d missed part of the conversation.

‘My agent,’ she said, with another tinkly laugh. ‘Silly. Now get dressed.’

I looked down at myself, bewildered. ‘I am dressed.’

‘To. Go. Out.’ She looked at me doubtfully. ‘If you can find anything that fits you, that is. You did bring clothes, didn’t you?’

I nodded.

‘Real clothes, I mean,’ she added. ‘Dresses…heels…’

I nodded again, wishing I’d stopped earlier in my packing.

‘Good girl.’ She looked at her watch. ‘You’d better shower. We’ll go out…hit some clubs.’

‘I can’t,’ I said. ‘Not tonight.’

‘Oh, but you can.’ She pulled me up off the sofa again.

I went to protest, but Liv stood in front of me. ‘No she can’t. Not tonight.’

I’m sure my shoulders sagged visibly, but my relief was short-lived.

‘She’s going out with me tonight,’ Liv continued, in her firmest tone. ‘I’ve got a gig, and Grace’s coming to watch.’

It was the first I’d heard about it. I could only look on, wondering if it was finally going to kick off between them, but Kitty seemed oblivious to Liv’s ferocity.

She opened her mouth to argue, but appeared to think better of it, and yawned. ‘Okay,’ she said finally, coming forward to plant smacking kisses on my cheeks. ‘It was only a warm-up anyway. I could use some sleep, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t take you up on the offer. I’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow though, Grace, no excuses. We’re on the VIP list for the F Bar.’

And with that, she flounced out.

Fifteen

After seeing Giles, I drove to the address Charlotte had given me again, just to make sure the tenant I’d spoken to was correct. She could even have been lying. I wouldn’t have put it past Charlotte to be able to wrap the girl around her finger, and persuade her to cover her ass. She might even have been at the flat when I called by. I couldn’t take anything for granted now, and I certainly couldn’t just sit about, hoping Giles would make good on his promise. I’d been checking the news non-stop and nothing had come out yet, but I knew I couldn’t count on it staying that way.

The flat was above a dingy row of shops. They were mainly fast food places and restaurants; Indian, Turkish, Greek, and the air was suffused with the stench of hot fat. It made me want to heave. I left the car out the front, on the double yellows. I was risking a ticket, but I wanted it as close as I could get it, and a ticket was easier than the alternative. In this postcode, I was likely to come back to find my car missing its wheels, if I found it at all. Seemingly, it was the same for cats. At least, there were posters flapping from every lamp post, offering a reward for the return of a black and white one.

I walked up to the front door, lodged awkwardly between a butchers and a grocery store. It was old, covered in peeling black paint, and almost hidden by the outdoor display stands. It suited my purposes exactly. I got out my credit card, and got busy. Matt had taught me various break-in techniques, but this door didn’t look like it’d need anything but the most fundamental. I was right. It didn’t take more than a minute or two of coaxing for the lock to give and the door to creak open. I chanced a quick look around me to see if anyone had noticed, before going in.

Once inside, I shut the door quietly behind me, taking care not to trip over the newspapers piled up on the tiled floor. There was a bit of post, too. I gathered it up, placed it carefully under my arm, and looked around me. I was standing in a foyer, and there was a door in front of me, to the side of a staircase. It had to be the flat of the tenant I’d met before, which meant Charlotte’s was on the first floor. Good. Only two flats meant less chance of being caught.

I peered up into the stairwell. It was dark, with a ragged carpet running up the middle of the stairs. The whole place smelt of raw meat, from the butchers presumably, and dust. I listened, but the only sound I could hear was the traffic from outside, interspersed with the odd snatch of conversation, as people came and went from the shops.

I went upstairs, treading carefully, just in case. The landing when I reached it was small and dimly lit, from a window high up, and there was just the one door off it. I took my credit card in my fingers again and started to tease at the lock.

It didn’t budge. I sighed with impatience. Now, in the situation, all Matt’s other tricks deserted me. I couldn’t remember one. Well, I could…one. But I didn’t have a clothes hanger with me, and there was no damned letter box, anyway.

I fiddled around with the card for a few minutes more, before giving up and resorting to the tried-and-tested, fool-proof method I’d hoped to avoid. I hoped the tenant downstairs was out. I couldn’t be sure, though, so it meant my time inside the flat was going to be cut short. I couldn’t hang around.

The door was solid. The first time I drove my shoulder into it, I definitely came off worst. It hardly gave at all. It took a good dozen whacks before it finally surrendered, and even then it swung open reluctantly, snagging on another thin, bedraggled carpet.

I pushed my way into the room, keeping my back to the wall. I almost smiled to myself. It was like being in a film. I was the cop, searching for the murderer. Except, of course, Charlotte wasn’t a killer. Just a colossal pain in the ass.

Normally, I would have got Matt or Rick to do this kind of thing for me, but this was too serious…too personal…and anyway, I couldn’t trust anyone, least of all Rick, right now.

The room was empty. There was nothing in it, except a dead cat, splayed out on the floor, its guts hacked open, and spilling out onto the carpet. It was no surprise to find, as I pushed at it with my shoe, that it was black and white. Looked like I’d found the missing one, anyway, but I wasn’t going to be getting a reward. It was rancid. I felt like gagging. Who’d leave a room like that? Who’d do that to a cat? What the fuck did this address have to do with anything, anyway?