ONCE JANE HAD IDENTIFIED Clara Mortimer's body and they had all returned to the car for the journey home, they both became very quiet. In spite of his grown-up executive suit Charles looked even younger than the twenty odd years Rafferty gave him by the time their painful duty was concluded.
It was only as Rafferty pulled up outside her front door that Jane Ogilvie released the flood of emotions that must have been simmering inside since learning of her mother’s death – or possibly, Rafferty guessed as he listened to the stored resentments pour out – for years before that.
‘Jane—why did she have to call me that? Jane. Plain Jane. I’ve always resented her for it and for the fact that she’d never thought I might be plain. I was teased with that Plain Jane tag all through my schooldays and
