“Were you always bisexual?” asked Annie. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, that’s such a personal question. It must be the wine, I promise I’m not usually so blunt. Just forget I asked that.”

Sally laughed.

“Susan likes to say that she turned me,” said Sally, raising one eyebrow. “But with hindsight I think I probably was bi. We just didn’t have a name for it back then. Joe says we sound like an inclusive reading book for primary schools: Sally and Susan Love Each Other Very Much.”

When the bell went for last orders, Sally ordered a taxi and Annie ordered a grilled cheese sandwich and a packet of crisps to take back to her room. The women swapped phone numbers, and Sally made Annie promise to tell her how she got on with the viewing.

Annie had just settled into bed when her phone pinged with the sound of an e-mail.

Dear Ms. Sharpe,

My name is John Granger. I am Mrs. Mari Chandler’s nephew.

My aunt has asked me to send you directions of how to get to Saltwater Nook, which I shall detail below.

Should you decide to take up the residency agreement, I think it only fair to stress that this is a short-term arrangement. The building is being sold in the new year, and your lease will not be extended. This is not a sitting tenancy, and you will be expected to move out by the date provided at the time of sale.

I would ask in the meantime that you treat your guardianship of my aunt’s property with due respect. I will undertake random spot checks of the property during the winter to ensure that the building is being reasonably maintained. Any action that is deemed to be in breach of this agreement will result in immediate termination of your tenancy.

I thank you in advance for your understanding in this matter.

Kind regards,

John Granger

Annie bristled. Even allowing for the fact that cadence could be tricky to interpret in writing, this e-mail felt rude. Who on earth did John Granger think he was? Who did he think she was? Some sort of serial squatter? She read the directions he had promised at the bottom of the e-mail and somehow even they contrived to irk her. How someone could make at the roundabout take the second exit sound like he was telling you to kiss his arse, Annie couldn’t fathom, but John Granger had managed it. Annie huffed as she reached out to turn off the lamp. “Sitting tenant indeed!” she blustered, and pulled the duvet roughly over her head.

Chapter 8

It was a bright morning and the air was charged with the woody scent of the changing season. Harvest was full upon the land and the leaves on the trees mirrored the colors of ripening squashes and pumpkins.