She went to the top of the stairs and listened. It could be the one bed and breakfast guest she hadn’t managed to cancel, or one of Franco’s staff members. It was unlikely to be a burglar but she thought she should go down and check.

She was halfway down the stairs when she saw a man with his back to her looking at the visitors’ book. On the bottom step she realised it wasn’t a burglar, it was worse.

It was Leo.

He turned as he heard her and she realised when she saw him properly that he was very drunk. She took a breath. She would have to play this very carefully.

‘I heard you were having a party,’ he said.

‘Yes. But I didn’t invite you, Leo.’

‘No! You didn’t! That’s because you’re having it with your new fancy man!’

‘His name is William,’ she said calmly, lowering her voice, hoping it would encourage him to lower his.

‘I know what his name is! He’s your accountant. And does he know that you must have been keeping us both on a string at the same time?’

‘It wasn’t like that, Leo, and now could you please leave?’

‘No. You may think you can have everything you want but you can’t.’

‘I can have who I like in my house and I don’t want you in it, so please leave.’

‘Is it your house though? Or is it your children’s heritage?’

‘You’re drunk, Leo. You’re not making sense.’ He was giving her information about how he got to know about the party though. Martin must have told him for some reason. Possibly spite.

‘Oh, I am making sense! I’m just not quite as clever about life as you are, am I? You saw the main chance and you took it. You decided shacking up with your boring accountant was a better bet than I was. Women don’t reject me, sweetheart, I reject them!’ He started to walk towards her.

Gilly was beginning to feel really frightened now. It was early, no one who was likely to come into the house was due yet and William said he might not be able to arrive until just before the guests were due. Leo was so menacing, angry, resentful. The thought that he might try to rape her crossed her mind. She didn’t let it linger. She was a relatively fit woman and she could either fight him off or escape. She backed away, edging towards the sitting-room door. The French windows were open; if she got into the sitting room she could get outside.

‘You’re a little slut, do you know that?’ he said, still walking towards her.