He turned away and prowled around the living space, touching the oak posts beneath the stairs and patting furniture as if giving it his approval. ‘Nice property. Authentic.’ He paused at the kitchen area and began opening cupboards while Clancy looked on, dismayed at his casual familiarity. He sighed with satisfaction when he discovered a bottle of red wine, taking down a glass and looking around enquiringly. ‘Anyone else?’ It might have been a polite and hospitable gesture if it had been his house and his wine he was helping himself to.

‘I will,’ said Alice. ‘Just the thing while I have a lovely catch-up with Clancy.’

Clancy tried to gather her scattered thoughts, to align this tinkling, alternative-looking Alice with the smoother and more sophisticated Alice she’d always known. One thing that hadn’t changed, evidently, was Alice’s ability to spring things on people. ‘Not for me.’ She turned to Alice hesitantly. ‘Sorry to dash when we haven’t seen each other for so long but I have plans—’

‘Oh, you can spare me an hour.’ Alice dismissed Clancy’s schedule with a nonchalant wave. ‘For goodness’ sake, I haven’t seen you for ages.’

‘That would be because you’ve been off on your travels for the last six and a bit years.’

Alice beamed as Hugo brought her a large glass of red. ‘You’ve got me there.’

Hugo grabbed a backpack from the pile of bags with the hand that didn’t hold the other glass of wine plus the bottle. ‘Where’s our room?’

‘Your room?’ Clancy echoed, a horrible cold feeling landing hard in the pit of her stomach.

Alice put down her wine and bounced up. ‘I’ll show you.’ Then she paused, ‘Oh, hang on. Which room are you in, Clancy?’

‘The loft.’ The feeling grew colder. Alice and Hugo had come to stay. For how long? Clancy had got used to occupying the Roundhouse in solitary splendour and didn’t one iota fancy sharing it. An Alice who had changed almost beyond recognition was unsettling enough, but Hugo was a stranger.

Truth was, though … the Roundhouse didn’t belong to Clancy. It belonged to Aaron and Alice and she could do precisely nothing to prevent Alice moving in as many people as she wanted.

‘Fantastic,’ Alice sang out, skipping ahead of Hugo up the stairs. ‘We’ll take the master. Don’t run away, Clancy! I’ll be back in two minutes for that catch-up.’

Clancy stood rooted to the spot, dismay warring with disbelief as she listened to the voices from the floor above with footsteps trekking to and fro. Alice was back. A completely altered Alice with tattoos and an alternative hairstyle instead of the Max Mara and stylish up-do she’d worn four years ago to Aunt Sally’s funeral. And Alice had a husband who she was moving into the room she’d once shared with Lee, apparently.

Then Alice was running down again, waving her phone. ‘Has this village still got no mobile signal? FFS! I feel like I’ve entered Brigadoon.’ She linked arms with Clancy’s to tow her over to the sofa, collecting her wine on the way. ‘So,’ she began confidently, tossing some of her plaits over one shoulder. ‘How are you finding Ye Olde Nelson’s Bar? I couldn’t believe it when you moved here. You! I would scarcely have recognised you without your business suits and impeccable manicure.’ Clancy glanced down at her hands. They were a little more work-worn than in the past. Alice went on, ‘Did Will really cheat on you? What a bastard. I hope you kicked him where it hurt. How long are you here for?’