The ride home was much too fast and swervy for Theresa’s liking. But, when the driver eventually skidded to a stop outside her front door, she found she didn’t have the right money in small notes. The driver claimed not to have the right change, leaving Theresa no option but to overtip him wildly.

She watched the tail lights of the taxi disappear up the hill as she let herself into the dark flat.

It was strange. Even before she stepped inside she thought that the place felt different.

Above all, there was a lingering smell of aftershave.

She flicked on the lights.

As she shoved the door open, a pile of rose petals spread themselves across the Welcome mat.

How had they got there? Had someone been in here while she was away? Who had keys?

Only Sally, and she wasn’t the rose-petal-delivery type.

Or had they just been emptied through the letterbox?

Nervously Theresa moved further into the flat. ‘Hello?’

Tiptoeing around, slamming open the wardrobe doors, she checked every cranny to make sure she was alone.

She inspected the small back yard, too, even though the only ways anyone could get into it were by coming through her flat as she had done, or by jumping from a window in the Hotel Astra or the upstairs flat.

She peered up into the darkness. Most of the windows which looked out on the courtyard were small – probably lavatory windows, except in the hotel; but you’d really have to be very fit to make that jump and land one piece. And then, how would you get up there again?

As Theresa moved back inside, still looking up behind her towards the yard, she heard a great thump coming from somewhere near the front door.

She froze.

What was that?

Breathing heavily, she took a few tentative steps into the living room.

Another thump.

Then a blood-curdling scream.

She dashed through the living room and stood beside the front door, ready to open up and run for it.

She could hear footsteps above her. She glanced at her watch. Almost 2 a.m.

Perhaps it was a tourist, renting the flat, packing for an early flight. They would have to leave soon if they were booked on the first flights out of Nice at 5 a.m.

A diabolic laugh from above.

What was going on?

She could hear a woman’s voice now, pleading. She sounded terrified.

The man laughed again and once more a loud thump.

Silence.

Barely daring to breathe, Theresa opened the latch on her front door and went out into the street to take a look up at the windows of the flat above.

The curtains were drawn, but a sliver of light spilled through the gap.

Theresa looked around her.

No one was in the street, and the lights in every building except the flat above her own were extinguished.

The only sound was the gentle wash of waves rattling the pontoon.