‘What on earth is he doing out there?’

‘You heard him, it’s a surprise.’

‘I have to say, you two are rather odd,’ Nora says, resting against the table.

‘What do you mean?’

‘After all those years apart, I would have thought you’d be keen to spend every second together, but instead you seem determined to avoid each other’s company.’

Gwen forces a smile. ‘Well … it’s strange, isn’t it? Having someone back after all that time. Takes a little getting used to.’

‘Seems to me you’re not making a huge effort, though … and I have to say, he is rather easy on the eye – I think I’d be more inclined to have him stay in with me rather than disappear off to his tack room project every night. I just hope you’re not feeling shy because I’m here. I wouldn’t want you to be holding back because of little old me. If you like … you could go to him now. The stables afford you a bit of privacy.’ Her eyebrow lifts suggestively. ‘I can keep an ear out for Tom.’

‘That won’t be necessary.’

Nora’s chuckle has a condescending bite to it. ‘Gwen … let yourself go. You’ve been so tightly wound for all these years, it’s about time you showed a bit of passion.’

‘I don’t need your advice, Nora, on how to conduct myself.’

‘Conduct yourself? Good God, Gwen, he’s your husband. You don’t want to risk losing him, do you?’ She folds her arms, her chin lifting. ‘Or perhaps you do? Perhaps you rather liked not having him around. I can’t help but notice Ted’s a little put out now he’s back.’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Nora, just go to bed, will you – and keep your nose out of other people’s business,’ Gwen pushes past her to get to the door. ‘And if I want your advice, I’ll ask for it. In the meantime, don’t try and interfere with things you know nothing about and couldn’t possibly understand.’

Outside, the night sky is thick with cloud. Moonlight is a fleeting gift and she relies on the luminescence of Kip’s white patches of fur to guide her down the yard. She unhooks the farm gate and begins to walk it shut. As the moon breaks free its silver light spills across a car parked a little way up the lane. Her strides shorten. She cannot tell whether there is anyone inside, but then she sees the ephemeral glow of a cigarette tip behind the windscreen and she realises there is. Someone is watching her.

She picks up her pace. The car door clicks and slams. A tall figure starts towards her.

‘Hello, Gwen.’