Drifting in and out of sleep, Justin opened his eyes as he heard a tap on the door.

‘Only me,’ Jessica said, giving him a bright smile as she poked her head around it. ‘Bit of a drastic way to get out of our date, isn’t it, Justin?’

Easing himself up in the bed, Justin smiled.

‘I thought I’d bring you a few things.’ Jessica came on in, rattling a carrier bag and walking across to him. Or rather, clip-clopping across to him on heels that could definitely be described as vertiginous. She was a little overdressed, surely, for office or hospital visits. Noting the tight skirt and top, Justin made sure not to let his gaze linger.

‘Cheers.’ He smiled. ‘You really shouldn’t have bothered. I intend to be gone as soon as I can.’

‘Not too soon?’ Jessica looked at him, alarmed. ‘I mean, I know you’re a doctor, but you’re not infallible. You should be resting, Justin, building up your strength. You’re exhausted – emotionally traumatised, to say little of being severely physically injured.’ Her expression was almost tearful as she looked him worriedly over.

‘Honestly, I could just shake Alicia sometimes,’ she went on, with a despairing sigh. ‘She’s upset, too, of course she is. Devastated, poor soul,’ she added, her tone switching to sympathetic, which didn’t ring quite true any more in Justin’s mind. ‘But I do wonder why she couldn’t just have been honest with you from the outset.’

‘It is what it is,’ Justin said, watching her warily. ‘She wasn’t, for whatever reason. I suppose I’m just going to have to learn to deal with it.’

‘A mess is what it is,’ Jess said, delving into her bag and producing juice, fruit and tissues. ‘You two splitting up, poor Sophie missing, little Lucas… Not that I’m saying what happened to Lucas was Alicia’s fault. Just so you know, I’m here, Justin. If you need someone to talk to, any time, just call me.’

Justin nodded, glancing down at the hand she’d placed on his arm. ‘Have we?’ he asked, looking back at her. ‘Split up?’

Jessica looked taken aback.

‘Did Alicia say we’d split?’ Justin pushed it.

‘Well, not in so many words.’ Jessica busied herself with her bag, producing biscuits and a book.

‘What words?’ Justin asked. ‘What did she say exactly?’

‘I haven’t brought any grapes, you’ll be pleased to know,’ Jessica answered evasively.

Justin kept his attention on her. ‘Jessica?’

‘She didn’t say exactly.’ Jessica arranged the things she’d bought on top of the locker. Stuff he didn’t need, because there was no way he was staying. He’d haemorrhaged badly, but there was no major damage to vital organs. He would live. What he wanted to do was establish whether he had a life worth living. To find his daughter and get to the root of why he’d been lied to.

‘She mentioned the house.’ Jessica’s eyes flicked in his direction, after a pause, and then away again. ‘Something about needing to find somewhere to live. I—’

‘On her own?’ Justin cut in.

‘Yes. A studio apartment, I think she said. She saw some somewhere. And with everything that’s happened, I was assuming you wouldn’t be rushing to get back with her.’

‘Where?’ Justin said. ‘The apartments, where was it she saw them?’

Jessica looked flustered. ‘I don’t know. I can’t remember. The Moseley area somewhere, I think. I’ve had a lot on my mind, too, Justin. Luke was my nephew. Sophie’s my niece. I’m just trying to make sure you’re both all right. I’m not quite sure why I’m suddenly under interrogation.’

Justin kneaded his forehead. ‘You’re not. I’m sorry.’ He offered her a small smile. ‘I’m just a bit confused, that’s all. Emotional, I guess.’

Jessica looked him over uncertainly. ‘You’re bound to be,’ she said, her tone back to sympathetic, her voice full of concern as she reached to fluff up his pillows. He didn’t need his pillows fluffing. He needed to know what the hell was going on.

‘Thanks.’ He forced a smile anyway. ‘Can I ask you something else, Jess? If you don’t mind, that is?’

‘Of course you can,’ she said, seating herself on the edge of his bed.

‘She said she’d been drinking,’ Justin started cautiously. He didn’t want to go in heavily. He simply needed to know how far Jessica was willing to go.

Jessica drew in a breath. Was that expression judgemental? Shouldn’t it be guarded, for her sister’s sake? ‘That’s right,’ she said. ‘She’s drinking quite a bit now, actually. Regularly, sadly. It’s understandable, I suppose, under the circumstances, but it’s a worry, as you can imagine.’

Alicia wasn’t teetotal. They’d both drunk more than was healthy on the odd occasion, but Alicia had never drunk regularly.

‘How much? How much had she drunk, Jess?’ he asked, running a hand across his neck. He didn’t need to work at looking like a troubled man. ‘Was she drinking a lot back then?’

Jessica looked hesitant, then, ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘unfortunately.’

‘So she could have been paralytic then?’

Again, Jessica hesitated. ‘Not too paralytic to make her way to his room.’ Her expression was definitely disapproving as she glanced briefly away and back again.

‘No, I suppose not.’ Justin heaved out a sigh.

He looked away then, appearing to ponder. ‘There’s something else,’ he said, looking back at her.

Smiling caringly, Jessica took hold of his hand. Justin couldn’t quite believe it. ‘Why didn’t you tell her about the forensic search?’

Jessica looked confused.

‘Was it because you hoped we wouldn’t be able to talk with police officers poking around?’ Justin asked her point-blank.

‘No.’ Jessica snatched her hand away from his. ‘Why on earth would I do that?’

‘The photographs I asked about,’ Justin went on. ‘Why did you tell me Alicia had them?’

Jessica paled, considerably. ‘I didn’t. I just assumed, because of what you said.’

Justin nodded slowly. ‘Making a lot of assumptions, aren’t you, Jess?’ he said, studying her carefully. ‘Tell me, how much bullshit have you been feeding me, precisely?’

Dropping her gaze fast, Jessica got to her feet, her cheeks flushing furiously as she collected up her bag.

‘It never was a date, Jessica,’ Justin said quietly, as she walked to the door. All of this without once making eye contact with him.

Watching her leave, Justin cursed his naive stupidity. He really must be completely blind not to have seen what was right under his nose, he thought angrily, heaving his legs over the bed and pulling the tube from his arm. He didn’t know how many lies he was being told, but one thing he did know for certain was that Alicia wasn’t a closet alcoholic, as implied by her sister. If her propensity was to hit the bottle in a crisis, wouldn’t she have done that when Luke died? Would she have been capable of coherent, albeit emotional, conversation every day since?

He also knew that photographs didn’t lie.

She’d said she wasn’t well. The photos he had of her at that wedding told him there was a hell of a lot more to this than met the eye. Alicia was holding something back. And Justin intended to find out what. Why she would hold anything back now, he wasn’t sure. But he intended to get to the truth, one way or another.