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Lisa set off in pursuit.
    Myers reached the third floor. The climb had done nothing to cool his rage or weaken his resolve. He pushed open the glass door at the head of the stairwell alongside the lift. The brightly lit corridor stretched away to the right and left. He stood for a moment, undecided. The corridor was empty. Short of knocking on every door, his only option was to listen for the sound of movement and hope he’d picked the right room.
    He heard footsteps, but was still undecided which direction they came from when the door behind him was flung open. The handle caught him painfully in the small of the back. A hand descended on his shoulder and turned him round none too gently.
    His rage seemed to dissipate as he saw Lisa Andrews. ‘You broke your promise,’ she told him flatly. ‘I thought better of you than that.’
    He gaped at her in astonishment. ‘Were you following me?’ He clutched the wall for support, his fingers closing round the brass handrail. He looked pale and upset.
    ‘Hah! What makes you think you’re so important? What are you doing up here anyway?’ she demanded.
    He shook his head like a boxer who’d taken a heavy punch. ‘If I told you, you’d arrest me.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Look, I had a good reason for not telling you about myself. I’m still not sure I should. But I reckon I owe you, not once but twice. You just might have saved me from doing something rash, so I’ll tell you what I promised. But not here.’
    She looked at him, unsure how far to trust him. Eventually she said, ‘You said that before. But no mistakes this time; I’ll come out to your cottage tomorrow morning around eleven.’

    Myers was waiting, standing in the open doorway as she pulled her car to a halt. She locked the door and looked up in time to catch his fading smile. ‘I don’t suppose I needed to do that, did I?’
    He shook his head. ‘No. The pheasants round here are an honest bunch.’
    ‘Don’t rub it in. Force of habit.’
    ‘Do you realize you have me at a disadvantage? You know who I am and where I live. I don’t even know your name.’
    ‘At least it’s my own name,’ she retorted.
    ‘Ouch,’ he exclaimed. ‘Come inside.’
    She looked around the sitting room; it was like a hermit’s refuge. ‘What, no TV?’
    ‘No desire for one,’ he told her succinctly. ‘The problem is TV leaves nothing to the imagination. When I read a book I can make the characters look however I want. I can turn a hill into a mountain, a pond into a lake or a stream into a river. You can’t do that with TV.’
    ‘You may have a point.’
    In the kitchen Myers brewed coffee. Lisa sat on a chairsipping it whilst Myers perched on the table cradling his own mug. She was about to bring up the subject of their meeting when something cold and wet touched her hand. She gasped and looked down into a pair of beautiful almond-shaped brown eyes. ‘Oh, hello,’ she said. ‘Who are you?’
    ‘That’s Nell.’
    ‘Hello, Nell.’ She stroked the Labrador’s head. ‘I’m Lisa Andrews.’
    ‘Well, Lisa Andrews,’ Myers began, ‘I promised I’d explain myself. I’ll tell you everything, except my real name. Will you excuse me that?’
    ‘It depends on the reason for withholding it.’
    ‘It’s because I was tried, convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment for murder.’ Myers paused and looked at her face for traces of shock, before continuing. ‘The victim was my wife.’ When he spoke again his voice was distant, remote. ‘There was a young ambitious civil engineer who lived and worked in Leeds. Whilst he was at university he met and later married a pretty girl, equally ambitious. He’d graduated and been head-hunted by one of the top firms in the area. He was headed for the very top. Everyone said so. His wife was working in a solicitors’ office in Leeds: a real golden couple. Nothing could go wrong.’ He smiled mirthlessly.
    ‘This was you?’
    Myers nodded. ‘Our marriage was