Jess' house has not changed at all – and why would it? I'm such an idiot. Mr Brightley's car was gone, and it took Mrs B five minutes to answer the door. She kept the chain on the whole time and I could smell the wine on her from the other side of the door. She sounded like she'd been crying. Here's what I remember of our conversation.

“Good morning, Mrs B. How are you today?”

“Why are you here?”

“I just- I wanted to see how you were doing,”

“You've seen. Now get gone before I call the cops,”

“Is there-” Before I could say anything more she screamed, her eyes widening like she was seeing right through me, and slammed the door in my face. I stumbled backwards and almost fell over. 'Anger' doesn't even begin to adequately describe how I feel right now. There's no way I can write more until I've calmed down.