Theresa decided it was best to stay put; after all, tonight they both knew exactly where Cyril would be, and Carol could keep an eye on him and warn her if he left the restaurant.

Theresa let Carol out and put on the kettle to make some tea.

While she was warming the pot, the phone rang.

Instinctively she moved to answer it, then realised that she shouldn’t. She was either meant to be at work or too ill to be at work, so left the answering machine to pick up. The red display told her she already had one message.

During the playback of her announcement, the phone made odd clicking noises which she had never noticed before.

‘So please leave your message after the tone . . .’

Beep, beep, beep.

‘Hello. Cyril here . . .’

She took a step back.

‘I hope you enjoyed your little present . . .’

She rushed over to the phone, ready to pick up and challenge the man, but before she got to it, there was another beep, followed by a whirring sound.

She picked up.

Dialling tone.

She pressed Play on the answering machine, noticing that the display now said ‘0’ messages.

But nothing happened.

She pressed again.

Nothing.

She had just heard him leave a message and yet now there were no messages.

She was standing right by the window. It was dark outside but her lights were on. Anyone out there could see her. She took a step back, then pulled the curtain across.

Instantly the phone rang again.

She jumped, startled, then picked up.

‘All right. Come clean. What do you want from me?’

‘Well, actually, Theresa, I wanted to know if you’d like to come out for a drink.’

‘Sally?’

It was.

‘Don’t worry, darling. I won’t snitch. I phoned Carol first, you see. And she suggested you might be in need of some company.’

The very thought of getting out of this flat, where she felt like a sitting duck, seemed like a wonderful idea.

‘All right, Sally. You’re on.’

‘Posh clothes, darling. We’re going smart. I’ll pick you up in ten minutes. Oh, and we’re going with your upstairs neighbours. I hope you’re on good terms.’

‘I am,’ replied Theresa, overflowing with relief. ‘Phoebe Taylor was in the restaurant last night, and we had a laugh.’

‘Me, not quite so much, but that’s another tale,’ said Sally. ‘See you in ten.’

Theresa hastily put on some make-up and changed into a smart dress, and when Sally’s car drew up was hovering by the front door. She heard Sally ring the upstairs doorbell. Immediately she opened her own front door and locked up behind her.

‘You’ve saved my bacon,’ she said, ducking briskly into the front seat of the car. ‘Quick – before anyone sees me.’