Warning: Episode may contain strong language, violence and sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

PREVIOUSLY…

• Following her interview with The Kent Gazette about mental health within the veterinary profession, Charlotte began to receive messages online from an unknown person. When they used the nickname only her loved ones called her, she blocked them.
• Lee told Jack he didn’t want to have children and, in doing so, put an insurmountable strain on their marriage. He later confessed to his mother, Marion, that he didn’t know if he still loved Jack or if their marriage would survive.
• Julia faced mounting pressure from both Emma and Natalie to expose the truth about Nick’s biological parents.
• Nick and Jasmine purchased ancestry DNA kits.
• With her drinking problem spiralling out of control, a drunken Neha slapped six-year-old Poppy.
• Following Neha’s assault, Poppy’s parents, Ben and Rebecca, went to the police as Rebecca vowed to make Neha pay for her actions.
• A drunken Neha lashed out at her husband, Ashwin, violently attacking him.
• Marion began to have doubts about her husband, Ed. He later revealed he was establishing a business with Rebecca and had purchased a property behind Marion’s back. She was furious that he had taken out a second mortgage without telling her and suspected he had forged her signature.
• James and Natalie gave in to weeks of temptation and slept together, with James unaware of what pressures Natalie is subjecting his wife, Julia, to.
• Natalie disposed of her contraceptive pills and pricked holes in a pack of condoms as she ramped up her plans to bring down the Harrington-Jones family.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Pineview House,
Glendale

While Mark Sinclair finished getting ready upstairs, his wife, Charlotte, sat at the kitchen table, her phone flat against the tabletop as she scrolled through her Instagram notifications. Ever since her interview with The Kent Gazette about mental health in the veterinary field had gone live, her follower count had skyrocketed, and although her feed was mainly flooded with positive comments, there were a few that made her uneasy.

Mark’s heavy footfall thumped quickly down the stairs, and he made his way into the kitchen, running a hand through his dark hair. “You ready to get going?” he asked, checking the pockets of his jeans. Keys. Wallet. Phone.

Charlotte looked up from her device, a furrow forming between her eyebrows. “Yeah, just give me a sec.”

As Mark took a final mouthful of his now-cold coffee, Charlotte’s phone dinged with a new direct message from an account she didn’t know. She opened it, and her heart immediately sank.

You blocked me? I thought we were friends!

Her creepy messenger from the other day had clearly created a new profile. Charlotte’s hands trembled as she typed out a response, her mind racing with a mix of anger and fear. Before she could hit send, Mark glanced over her shoulder, curiosity piqued.

“Who’s that?” he asked, his tone casual.

“Oh, just someone weird random.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, his expression sceptical. “Weird how?”

“Just leaving strange comments on my posts and sending creepy DM’s,” Charlotte replied.

Mark studied her for a moment before shrugging. “Just block ‘em. They’re faceless losers on the internet. Don’t worry about them. Besides, we’ve got a plane to catch,” he said as he sidled up to Charlotte and kissed the top of her head.

“You’re right,” Charlotte agreed, her thoughts drifting off to drinking cocktails on a picturesque beach in the Algarve. She locked her phone, ignoring the creepy messenger. “Let’s get this show on the road. Portugal, here we come!”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Bluebell Cottage,
Glendale

Lee Campbell sat on the sofa in the living room of Bluebell Cottage, his legs tucked under him as he speedily tapped out a message on his iPhone with his thumbs. With a swoosh, the message he had composed flittered off into the ether, and he returned to his thoughts about the looming conversation he knew he and his husband, Jack, needed to have. Their marriage had become fractured, and today, with a rare day off together, was the time to try to mend it.

As Jack descended the stairs, Lee couldn’t help but notice the heaviness in his steps. He looked up, meeting Jack’s cold look with a mix of anticipation and trepidation.

“Morning,” Jack said, his voice soft as he entered the living room.

Lee forced a smile, though it faltered at the edges. “Morning.”

Jack sank into the armchair opposite Lee, picked up the remote control, and turned on the television. Lee watched his husband silently for a moment as he channel-surfed before finally settling on “Lorraine.” The rugged police sergeant was still as handsome as the day Lee first spied him across the room at a pride event in London. Jack was unlike anyone Lee had met before: tall, sexy, and manly but also shy and someone who normally actively avoided the gay community. But there was something about him that had captured Lee’s attention and heart from their first meeting nearly ten years ago, and, despite their current slump, Lee wondered if the spark that once burned so brightly was still there, despite his previous reservations about the longevity of their union.

“We need to talk,” Jack said, breaking the silence that was thick with unresolved tension.

Lee nodded, his stomach churning with nerves. “Yeah, we do.”

Jack shifted his attention from the television to Lee and took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. “Are we going to survive this?”

Lee felt a lump form in his throat, the weight of Jack’s words hitting him like a freight train. While he had mentioned his own doubts about their marriage to his mother, Marion, just a few days earlier, hearing Jack openly discuss the subject was startling. “I hope so,” he replied.

It was a response that didn’t fill Jack with confidence. “About the kids thing,” he began, his mind scrambling to find the right words to fire out of his rapidly drying mouth. “I… I just think…”

Lee stiffened at the subject. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of responsibility.”

With a deep gulp, Jack let Lee’s words wash over him again. He had heard this before from his husband, and they were clearly at an impasse on the matter. Although Lee had been keen on the idea of children early in their relationship, his feelings on the matter had very clearly changed, and Jack struggled to understand why. While Lee was entitled to change his mind, Jack found the lack of discussion as to why difficult. “Can you at least read the pamphlets and then decide?” he asked, a sadness to his tone. “For me?”

Lee let out a sigh and nodded. “Sure,” he replied, forcing a smile.

Jack smiled warmly, heartened at the fact that Lee was willing to bend slightly. He was also acutely aware that if they both didn’t bend, their marriage wouldn’t survive.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Ashbourne House,
Glendale

In the library of Ashbourne House, seated on a high-backed chair, Julia Harrington-Jones stared absently out of a large sash window on the opposite side of the room. On the antique handcarved mahogany table beside her, a silver coffee service sat untouched on a tray. Julia’s mind swirled with the events of the past few weeks. Emma Blake’s arrival nearly five weeks ago had caused a cataclysmic shift in her life, and the usually steely and in control matriarch didn’t like her new position of being on the back foot.

With a deep, resigned sigh, Julia returned her attention to the photo album that lay open on her lap. She had been scouring the pages, looking for photos to showcase Glendale’s history at the upcoming village fete. As she turned the page, Julia frowned at one of the images beneath the protective clear sheet of plastic. Her deceased brother, Michael, glared back at her as he draped his arm around the shoulder of a teenage girl. Julia drank in all the details – the moody looks, the 90s attire, and the fact that Emma stared back at her also. Despite being incredibly destructive together, Julia couldn’t deny the fact that Michael had been at his happiest when he was with Emma.

Julia turned her attention back to the window as her mind wandered. Emma had nothing to lose and could spill the secret about Nick’s paternity at any moment. The private investigator had also yet to yield any results. A sudden and unwelcome realisation struck Julia like a thunderbolt. She couldn’t keep the secret from Nick forever. She would have to tell her son the truth, that Michael and Emma were his biological parents, and she would need to have Emma on her side to do it.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Glenbrook Farm,
Glendale

Pamela Granger and her husband, Brian, had returned from the weekly big shop at the Tesco Superstore in Maidstone. Their arms were laden with bags of groceries and goodies as they crunched across the gravel driveway and through the backdoor of the farmhouse that led into the kitchen.

“All I’m saying is that I don’t know if Rebecca moving back here is what’s best for Ben and the kids,” Pamela sighed, continuing the conversation that had lasted the whole 20-minute drive from Maidstone to Glendale. Pamela’s dislike and distrust of Rebecca Williams was no secret, but Brian had a soft spot for their now ex-daughter-in-law and had always defended her, something that irritated Pamela more than she cared to confess.

“Well, I think it’s a good thing Rebecca and Ed have bought the old haberdashers. Who knows what could’ve gone in there otherwise?” Brian replied. Their son’s ex-wife had been the topic of discussion all day, yet now somehow, Brian was managing to steer the conversation into familiar territory that deeply troubled his wife. Brian placed the bags he was carrying on the countertop. “We’d likely have ended up with some Indian phone shop or some Afghan restaurant serving up God knows what!”

“Oh, Brian,” Pamela said with a sigh that was more like a groan. If there was one thing she couldn’t stand about her husband, it was his racist commentary. That, and the fact he was a welded-on Brexiteer who worshipped at the temple of Nigel Farage. She closed the back door and set about unpacking the bags as Brian switched on the kettle and prepared two mugs of tea. “Really, sometimes you say the most disgusting things.”

“Disgusting? How?” Brian challenged his wife but continued before she had a chance to speak. “You think it’s okay for that lot to come over here and take our jobs and change our way of life? Look at Neha! Comes over here and starts slapping our British-born kids!”

Pamela prickled, partly at the thought of what a drunken Neha had done to their granddaughter, Poppy, but mostly at her husband’s overt racism. “Neha is British. She was born in Bradford!”

“Yeah! And you know what they say about Bombay-Bradford!” Brian scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning against the countertop as he watched Pamela pack away boxes and packets.

Pamela shook her head. She had endured a lifetime of such hateful comments. Previously, it was a passing comment here or there, but since Brexit, and especially after COVID, she had noticed Brian was now more relaxed and emboldened in voicing his hurtful and often disgustingly offensive opinions.

“She’s no more British than I am a rainbow flag carrying—”

“Don’t!” Pamela interjected, her anger palpable as she whipped her head in Brian’s direction. “Don’t you dare say what I think you’re about to! Besides, you like Neha and Ashwin. We went and celebrated Diwali with them last year, and you absolutely loved it.”

“It was alright,” Brian shrugged with a sniff as he looked at his feet and rubbed the tip of his boots against the flagstone floor. “And I like Ash because he’s a good cricket player. All Indians are.”

Pamela’s shoulders dropped as she looked at her husband in disbelief.

Brian frowned, not understanding what he had apparently said wrong this time. The world was changing rapidly, and it unsettled Brian. He felt like he no longer recognised the Britain of 2024. “What? Is it suddenly against the law to say that all Indians are good cricket players?”

“No,” Pamela replied with a sigh that seemed to be burdened with defeat. “But it does make you a pig ignorant fool!”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

The Oak & Vine,
Glendale

Upstairs, in the living room of the flat above The Oak & Vine pub, Kate Spencer carefully painted the last stroke of a green ‘E’ onto a large banner. She stepped back and admired her handiwork. “GLENDALE VILLAGE FETE” was emblazoned across the oversized banner with the colours varying shades of the rainbow.

The living room had been turned into a makeshift studio, filled with paints, brushes, and the faint smell of coffee lingering in the air as Kate, Carol Kennedy, and Audrey Granger set about completing the artworks requested of them by Julia.

“So, do you think we should add some more flowers here?” Kate asked, pointing to a corner of the banner.

Carol leaned in, squinting at the area Kate was referencing. “Hmm, perhaps a few more daisies would brighten it up. What do you think, mum?”

Audrey, having struggled up the stairs was now sitting in a plush armchair, finishing off her entry for the crochet competition as best she could with a fractured wrist. She nodded enthusiastically without looking. “Yes, dear, daisies always bring a cheerful touch!” she said with a sniff, her thoughts firmly focused on beating Betty Worchester instead of finishing Julia’s banner.

As Kate added the final touches of some more daisies, Carol’s phone chimed with a message. She glanced at the screen and seemed to deflate. “Ah, it’s from Julia. She says she can’t wait to see the banner and that she’ll pop over a little later to inspect it.”

“Inspect it?” Audrey said with the snarl of a grumpy old dog as she looked back at her daughter over the top of her glasses. “Needing a royal warrant, is it?”

“Oh, mum,” Carol replied as she and Kate looked at each other and smiled. “Julia is harmless once you get past the tough exterior.”

Audrey sucked her gums and shook her head, unwilling to accept Queen Julia was anything less than an entitled snob. “Well, at least we can be thankful that that son of hers didn’t inherit anything from his parents. Between James’ narcissism and Julia’s inflated sense of self-worth, I’m shocked that young lad doesn’t have a head the size of the moon!”

“Are you going to the engagement party?” Kate asked.

“Me?” Audrey shot her grandson’s wife a sharp look. “Walk all the way up there? Over that bridge? Up that hill? At my age? In my condition? To spend a night with pompous entitled gits? Are you mad?”

Kate chewed on her cheek to stop herself from laughing. “Well, Jaz has invited Tom and me. I’ll bring you back some cake.”

“I hope they choke on it.” Audrey pursed her lips together and returned her attention to her crochet. “But I do wish young Nick and Jasmine well.”

“Aw, loves young dream,” Kate said whimsically as she looked off into the distance, comparing Nick and Jasmine’s young love to when she and Tom got engaged. “Before the fartin’ and the breathin’ and the chewin’ and the snorin’. God, I hate the snorin’! Don’t get me wrong, I love Tom with all my heart; I do, but the snorin’! He sounds like a bloody freight train; he does!” Her laughter meshed perfectly with Audrey’s hearty cackle. From Carol, there was silence. Kate looked at her mother-in-law and noticed her expression had grown sombre as she stared blankly into the distance. “Is everything alright, Carol?”

Carol returned to the land of the living with a few blinks and a soft shake of her head. “Sorry, it’s nothing. It’s just… I’m still worried about Tony.”

Kate and Audrey exchanged a concerned glance.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Audrey asked her daughter gently as she placed her nearly completed teacosy down and struggled to her feet with a wince thanks to her broken rib.

Carol hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the banner. “It’s Luke. He’s…” her voice trailed off.

Kate reached out, placing a comforting hand on her mother-in-law’s shoulder. “Oh, Carol,” she said in her thick Welsh accent. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but we’re here for you. Aren’t we Audrey?”

Audrey nodded. “Always.”

Carol smiled softly, heartened at the support from her mother and daughter-in-law, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Thank you. It’s just… Tony’s been struggling with the fact that Luke wants nothing to do with him. He feels like he’s failed as a father.”

Audrey hobbled over to her daughter, aided by her new walking stick. “Oh, darling, it’s not your fault,” she said sympathetically as she rubbed a hand up and down Carol’s back. “Luke is a wrong’un. You’ve done everything you could. Besides, he’s a grown man in his forties. We can’t control other people’s actions, no matter how much they hurt us or what horrible things they’ve done.”

Kate’s mouth tightened at the horrible memory of Luke’s crime committed ten years earlier. She, like the majority of the villagers in Glendale, couldn’t comprehend how Tony could forgive his son, let alone want a relationship with him.

Carol nodded, her shoulders sagging with the weight of her worries. “I know, mum, but it’s still hard to see him like this. I just wish there was something I could do to help him.”

“Tell you what,” Kate piped up, her eyes sparkling with the beginnings of a brilliant idea. “Why don’t you and Tony come to the engagement party? Free booze and food. It’ll be a right knees up!”

Carol declined with a polite smile and a shake of her head. “No,” she waved the suggestion away. “We’ve got the pub and—”

Kate reached over and grabbed her mother-in-law’s hand. “Nonsense!” she said dismissively. “Get Sally to cover the bar for a few hours. Let your hair down. Enjoy yourselves!”

Carol could tell Kate wasn’t going to let the idea go. “Okay,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll think about it.”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Honeysuckle Cottage,
Glendale

As Emma Blake tightened her shoelaces in preparation for her daily run, the sound of a persistent knock echoed through her otherwise serene home. Frowning in confusion, she abandoned her preparations and made her way into the entrance hall.

Opening the oak front door, Emma was caught off guard by the person standing before her. “Julia?”

Julia forced a smile as best she could, although it appeared more like a smirk. “Hello, Emma,” she said with a hint of uncertainty, a departure from her usual confident demeanour. There was an air of unexpected vulnerability about her. “Can we talk?”

Emma found herself momentarily speechless, torn between her instinct to dismiss Julia and her curiosity about the unexpected visit. Despite her reservations, Emma stepped aside and motioned for Julia to enter her home.

Without another word, Julia’s face softened, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes as she crossed the threshold and Emma closed the door.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Greenview Cottage,
Glendale

Marion Atkins stood by the living room window as she gazed out at the village green and an evening sky that was stained with vibrant hues of pink and orange. In a smart white lace blouse and black denim jeans, she absentmindedly played with the band of her watch as she waited for her husband, Ed, to finish getting ready for their dinner reservation at The Mill. Marion’s mind wandered. In the morning, Ed was returning to London and planned to stay in the capital for the rest of the week as he wrapped up working for his current employer. Despite being made aware of his plans a few days earlier, Marion couldn’t shake the sense of unease she felt or understand why Ed couldn’t just make the sixty-minute commute into London each day. Doubt whispered in her ears.

Ed’s heavy footfall on the stairs ripped Marion from her thoughts. “Ready?” he asked as he entered the living room, fixing his buttoned-up gingham shirt that was tucked into his camel-coloured chinos.

A moment of clarity washed over Marion as she turned and met Ed’s eyes that were brightened by a faint smile. “Actually, no.”

Ed’s smile faltered, and a frown creased his brow. The reply, although delivered politely, felt like a punch to the gut. “What? But we have a reservation.”

“I think our marriage is more important than a dinner reservation, don’t you?”

Ed watched Marion as she began to pace around the living room. He could practically see the unspoken thoughts swirling in her mind as she tried to find the right words to express her feelings. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the plans with Rebecca earlier,” he said with a sincerity that caught Marion off guard. “I’m also sorry about buying the haberdashers.”

Marion stopped, and her jaw clenched tightly. Their eyes were locked, and for a moment, a silence stretched between them. Marion appreciated the apology, but she didn’t believe it. “You’ve really hurt me, Ed,” she said. “I would have supported you; you know I would have, but what you’ve done, well, it is unforgivable.”

For the first time in weeks, Ed paid close attention to his wife and could clearly see the hurt and anguish he had caused her. His heart ached. He hated lying to Marion, but he feared what she would do if she knew the truth – the actual truth. “I’m sorry.”

Marion felt her eyes burn with unwelcome tears. “All our married life, I’ve done nothing but support you, but this… I don’t know; there’s something about you lately that feels off. Different. Secretive.”

Ed’s chest tightened and his mouth clenched. He wanted to tell Marion the truth. He wanted the words to tumble out of his mouth and tell her everything, but he didn’t.

Marion and Ed stood steps apart, their bodies rigid as the air between them infused with an uncomfortable tension. Marion blinked away her tears, frustrated that her emotions were getting the better of her, while Ed wrestled with his inner turmoil.

“For weeks you’ve dismissed me, brushed me off, lied to me,” Marion said with a measured tone as her eyes remained locked on her husband’s. She noticed him glance away briefly when she mentioned lying. “We’re supposed to be a partnership, Ed, and a true partner would never have done what you did.”

Ed was silent. What could he say?

“I’m furious at you, furious, and you act like I’m not allowed to have those feelings or that they’re not warranted. You don’t want to talk about it, and that makes me feel like I’m not worthy of an explanation or of being able to voice my opinions. Do you know how insulting and belittling that is? I played nice at Kate’s birthday; I smiled and kept up the pretence of a happy family like I always do, but what you’ve done, Ed, you’ve proven that I don’t matter to you, and you’ve diminished my feelings. You’ve diminished me.”

For thirty-five years, they had shared everything – every high, every low, every challenge, and every secret – or so Marion had thought. “You quit your job, and you took out a second mortgage without telling me, Ed. You forged my signature for Christ’s sake! Do you know what that feels like? That level of deception, Ed, that’s something else. That’s wicked. You actively chose to lie to me, Ed, to keep it from me, to keep it all from me, and that, well, that’s what hurts most.”

“I didn’t forge your signature,” Ed said, as if it made things better. “The mortgage is in my name and my name only.”

Marion snuffled at Ed’s response as if it absolved him from wrongdoing. “But you still did it without telling me. That’s the point, Ed; that’s the point. The deception. The lies. I don’t know how to forgive that. You’re not truthful, and I see that now.”

Ed’s heart clenched at Marion’s words. “Marion…” He stepped forward and took her hands in his. For the first time, Ed could really see the hurt and devastation he had inflicted on his wife. Her eyes, glassy from brewing tears, twinkled in the dim glow of the lights. He squeezed her hands gently. “I’m sorry; I’m genuinely so sorry. I need you to trust me. I need to fix this between us. I love you.”

Marion pulled her hands free and turned her back, returning her attention to the village green outside the window. “I don’t think I can be around you at the moment,” she said, trying to calm her rising anger with a steadying breath. “I think it is best you leave for London tonight. I’m going to go for a walk, and when I come back, I don’t want you to be here.”

“Marion…”

“Please, Ed,” Marion said, turning back and looking at her husband. “Please respect me enough to give me the time and space I need to process and deal with my feelings and emotions and what you’ve done.”

Ed nodded, accepting Marion’s request. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I love you.”

Marion let out a long exhale that spanned the distance between them. She hesitated, her heart pounding against her ribcage as she struggled to find the words. She couldn’t bring herself to say it back. “I’ll see you in a few days,” she replied.

Without another word spoken, Marion exited the living room, and Ed let her go.

Outside, Marion walked along the stone path that snaked its way through the beautiful cottage garden. Fragrant aromas from the blooming flowers mixed with the warmth of the summer evening, while the village green stretched before her, festooned with twinkling fairy lights and colourful bunting in preparation for the weekend’s village fete. Surrendering to her emotions, Marion broke down in heavy sobs and allowed the tears to roll freely down her cheeks.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Honeysuckle Cottage,
Glendale

“Finally all unpacked, I see,” Julia said, a tartness to her voice as she looked around Emma’s small living room. Although little, there was a cosy homeliness to it that almost made Julia jealous. Soft furnishings in tones of blues and greys mixed seamlessly with the natural woods of Emma’s furniture. A few pieces of carefully chosen one-of-a-kind artworks hung on the walls and an array of photographs in varying sizes and frames mixed with knickknacks on the mantelpiece. A large vase of freshly cut pink and blue hydrangeas was placed perfectly on a small table beside the couch, and the air carried the smell of a recently smothered floral candle. Julia’s eyes scanned the small carving in the wooden mantel and her stomach churned. Honeysuckle Cottage held painful memories, ones that she was unwilling to share with Emma just yet.

“Was there something you wanted, Julia?” Emma’s reply was short. The last time she had welcomed the formidable woman into her home, it hadn’t been the easiest of conversations, and Emma had been on guard ever since.

Julia turned and looked at her foe. She couldn’t blame her for being short and defensive. “I was going through a photo album, and I found this,” she said, handing the photograph of Michael and Emma over.

Emma’s eyes moistened as she looked at the image. It was from a house party in 1997. It was also the night she had met Michael for the first time. “How did you…” her voice trailed off as a tear hastily swelled and rolled over her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, unwilling to show any signs of weakness to Julia.

Julia’s mouth twisted as she watched Emma struggle to suppress her feelings. “You look young,” she said, her voice soft and genuine.

“Fifteen,” Emma replied without thinking. “The first night I met him.”

“You look thrilled,” Julia joked, her voice curling into a smile.

Emma shot her nemesis a quick look, surprised that the ice queen of Glendale had a sense of humour. “Well, look at his hair,” she replied with a snuffle. “What was I thinking taking up with a boy with an undercut?”

Julia chuckled. “Mother hated that haircut.”

A gentle silence settled over the two women, both falling into their thoughts about the young man who had touched their lives before leaving them far too young. The silence soured into awkwardness.

Emma lifted her eyes and met Julia’s gaze. “Was there something else?” she asked apprehensively.

Julia ran her tongue along her lips and let out a long, calming exhale of breath. “I’ve been doing some thinking about our conversation the other week. About how you want to tell Nicky the truth.”

Emma’s shoulder slumped and her head titled skywards. She was back on the merry-go-round. “Julia, I—”

“I agree.”

Emma stopped. A frown burrowed deeply into her forehead as her mouth dropped open. “What?”

“I agree,” Julia repeated, stiffening at the words that were coming out of her mouth. Although loathed to admit it, she had come to realise that Emma was right. Nick deserved to know the truth, but on Julia’s terms only. “Nicky should know about you and Michael. He deserves to know that you’re his biological parents.”

Emma tensed as her defences engaged. “Is this a joke?”

Julia moved to the armchair closest to her and sat down. “No,” she said with what seemed to be a sigh of relief, her body relaxing as the years of tension and secrecy melted away. “As the weeks have gone on, it has become apparent that this secret isn’t going to stay that way for much longer. Natalie knows, and she’s blackmailing me, and with you constantly sniffing around Nicky, it’s only a matter of time before it all comes out. So, what choice do I have? I either let this all blow up in my face, or I tackle it head-on and tell Nicky the truth on my terms.”

Emma felt unsteady on her feet and took a seat on the sofa. “What do you mean Natalie’s blackmailing you? How does she know?”

Julia’s lips curled at the corners. “She was eavesdropping, and now she’s demanding one hundred thousand pounds from me by Saturday, or she’s going to tell Nicky everything.”

“Oh my God!” Emma gasped, a strange feeling of protectiveness towards Julia suddenly engulfing her. “You’re not going to pay her, are you?”

“Don’t be so stupid!” Julia scoffed, swatting away Emma’s suggestion like an annoying fly. “I’m going to put her off until after the engagement party.” She looked directly into Emma’s eyes. “And then we’re going to tell him. Together.”

Emma swallowed heavily. “Really?”

Julia nodded. She could already hear the cries of anger from her husband and her mother in her ears, but deep in her heart, Julia knew telling Nick was the right thing to do. “Yes,” she said, a little breathlessly. “After the engagement party, you and I will sit down and tell Nicky the truth, as his mothers.”

As his mothers. The words sent Emma’s heart into a flutter. While still slightly on edge, she had no cause for doubting Julia and welcomed the compromise with a nod and a genuine smile. “Thank you,” she said, her eyes glassy with tears. “Thank you, Julia.”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Oak Cottage,
Glendale

The upstairs bathroom of Oak Cottage was engulfed in a misty steam as Nick Harrington-Jones showered after his daily run. He hummed along to the chorus of “Espresso” by Sabrina Carpenter as the catchy pop song pumped from the Bluetooth speaker that was connected to his iPhone. As Nick stood under the stream of hot water, he allowed the shampoo suds to wash from his hair and cascade down his toned naked body. On the vanity, the screen of Nick’s iPhone lit up with a silent notification.

DNA UPDATE: DNA EXTRACTED

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Patel’s Garage,
Glendale

Ashwin Patel’s hands moved with practiced precision, his fingers deftly tightening bolts and adjusting components of the Saab sedan that he was servicing. In the far corner, a small radio sat on a bench emanating a melodic tune of some pop song that he didn’t know. Each turn of the wrench was accompanied by a cascade of fragmented thoughts, and the greasy stains on his overalls seemed almost symbolic of the inner turmoil he couldn’t quite cleanse.

Ashwin hadn’t had the courage to face his wife, Neha, since she had drunkenly lashed out at him, her fist connecting with his face. The black eye that he was now sporting was a painful reminder of just how bad her drinking problem had become. With a deep exhale of breath, Ashwin, downed tools, wiped his greasy hands on his overalls, and picked up his phone. He felt nervous as he dialled the number of his mother-in-law, his mind racing through the words he needed to say. The thought of seeking her help was both a desperate plea and a reluctant concession, but Ashwin knew that if there was any chance of mending the fissures in Neha’s life, her mother might be the only one who could help.

As the phone rang, Ashwin braced himself for the conversation ahead. “Hello, Geeta,” he said with an insecurity that betrayed the confidence he was trying to project. “No, no, I’m okay. But I need to talk to you about Neha.”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Thyme Cottage,
Glendale

Neha’s vision was hazy as she struggled to focus on the glowing screen of her phone. Her fingers stumbled clumsily over the screen as she composed yet another message to him. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, a storm of anger, fear, and desperation. He had read her last message, but there was still no reply.

So you can reaa dthese mes sages but not reply ? Fuck y ou!

The message that showed her level of inebriation was fired off, one of several in the last hour. Again, there was no response, only the cold silence of an empty house.

With a frustrated grunt, Neha tossed her phone aside and reached for the near-empty bottle of cheap Tesco brand gin on the coffee table. The alcohol burned her throat as she took another swig, the familiar warmth spreading through her veins like a comforting embrace. But it wasn’t enough to dull the ache in her heart or silence the voices in her head.

There came a sudden knock at the front door. Neha froze, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared at the wooden barrier between her and the outside world, her eyes struggling to fully focus. There came another forceful tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

“Who’s there?” She called out, her words slurred.

“It’s the police,” came the reply, stern and authoritative. “Please open the door, Missus Patel.”

A frown settled over Neha’s face as she seemed to gulp away a rising level of nausea. Unsteadily rising to her feet, Neah stumbled towards the door, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the lock. With a click, the door unlocked. Neha pulled it open to reveal two uniformed officers, a young man and woman, standing on the threshold.

“What do you want?” Neha said as she swayed slightly and held tightly to the door handle for support.

The young female police officer stepped forward. “Neha Patel, I’m arresting you on the charges of assault occasioning actual bodily harm and cruelty to persons under sixteen. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”

From the village green, Rebecca sat on a park bench under a large oak tree, watching as the police handcuffed Neha and marched from her home. A satisfied smile licked at the corners of Rebecca’s mouth. She was proud of Poppy for how she handled the police interview earlier that day, and now, with Neha facing a conviction, Rebecca felt more determined than ever that come hell or high water, Neha would pay for her wrongdoings. 

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Unknown Location

Charlotte and Mark grinned happily from the screen of a nondescript computer monitor. The photo, taken at Heathrow Airport a few hours earlier, had hundreds of likes and comments, many of them wishing the loved-up couple well as they headed off to Portugal for their one-year anniversary. But for the computer’s user, Charlotte’s happy smile fuelled the flames of their twisted fixation. Their fingers tapped away at the keyboard with a manic fervour.

miss u already beautiful xx

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Pineview House,
Glendale

Natalie Sinclair’s heart skipped a beat as she heard a familiar and unique tap on the front door. The unusual sequence of knocks announced the arrival of only one person, James Harrington-Jones. Natalie took a deep breath and checked her appearance one final time in the mirror near the front door. She smacked her lips, patted her raven-coloured bob into place, and readjusted her figure-hugging dress. Painting a seductive smile across her face, Natalie opened the door. “Hello, boss,” she purred, her eyes lingering on his familiar features.

James stood at the threshold, his presence commanding. He smiled a knowing smile, and his eyes conveyed a not-so-subtle longing. Without a word, he stepped past her. Natalie watched with intrigue as a police car drove by before closing the front door.

Across the tranquil expanse of the village green, Judith Bancroft, James’ mother-in-law, stood concealed in the shadows of an ancient oak tree. Her expression darkened as the enormity of the scene that she had just witnessed dawned on her.

NEXT TIME…

• Judith goes head-to-head with Natalie.
• Someone discovers Ed’s secret.
• Jack confides in Queenie.
• Natalie’s scheme takes a sinister turn.