Lissa cursed. This was the second time she was in trouble for not actually reading the stuff Cormac had so thoughtfully typed up for her and therefore following the most basic of his instructions. She hadn’t left him anything, had just assumed that her entire world was pretty obvious. Was that what anxiety did to you? she thought. Made you so focused on the tumult inside you that you couldn’t focus on anyone else, not properly?

Tentatively, she opened the door a crack. It wasn’t locked, she realized. Presumably if he was going to murder her he’d just have walked in.

Jake, perceiving what she was thinking, stepped back.

“Just me,” he said. “Except, of course, you don’t know me, so saying ‘just me’ isn’t much use. Ha. Aye. And also I’m not in my uniform, so . . .”

Get it together, he thought. This wasn’t like him at all. But he hadn’t expected . . . he hadn’t thought of what to expect, truly. Not this pretty, curvy girl wearing old jeans, with ringlets coming out from her head at all angles, beautiful big freckles dotting her cheeks, and tired dark eyes. She looked a bit cross. He wondered immediately what she’d look like with a bit of effort and maybe a smile.

He tried one himself. “Hello again,” he said. “Jake Inglis.”

“Yeah, you said that,” said the girl, frowning. “Sorry. I thought I didn’t start till tomorrow.”

“Oh, you don’t,” said Jake. “I thought it would be polite to come and introduce myself . . .”

Suddenly it didn’t feel particularly polite to either of them, with twilight falling and the occasional owl hooting in the woods.

“. . . but I suppose I’ll see you about.”

“Okay, thanks,” said Lissa. She was thinking how weird, rude, and standoffish she was being. But she just couldn’t . . . What was she supposed to do, make jolly conversation with a stranger? Nobody in London would do this in a million years.

“Well, let me know if you need anything—I promised Cormac I’d look out for the house if anything came up.”

“Okay, thanks, that’s kind,” said Lissa, feeling her heart beat completely impractically. He’s just being kind! she tried to tell herself. Nothing bad is going to happen! This is normal.

She found herself closing the door in his face anyway.

Oh well, thought Jake. You win some you lose some.

Just as he was pulling out in his silver SUV, he heard her voice behind him.

“Sorry,” she said, and she did sound genuinely sorry, anguished almost. She was, Jake concluded, extremely odd.

“Aye, nae bother,” he said, stopping the car.

“No, I mean . . . could you possibly . . .” She pulled at her curly hair. It really was quite something. “Could you . . . ? Do you know how to light a fire?”

Jake slapped at his forehead. “Did he not leave you instructions? For God’s sake, what a bampot.”