‘I’ve just spent six years in the army, Nora. I wouldn’t have lasted as long as I did if I didn’t know how to move quietly.’

‘Well, I must say, you’re very good at it. It’s like you’re not even there.’ She moves closer. ‘I wouldn’t mind some lessons, if you’re up for it … I could do with perfecting my sneaking around skills.’

‘I’m not sure I can help you there … I honed my skills in life-or-death situations. You pick things up pretty quick then, let me tell you.’

‘I didn’t say my needs weren’t life or death.’ She grins, cheeky and vibrant, inviting.

Jack lets out a sigh. ‘I’d better get on with the milking.’

The conversation is over. For him at least.

Something wakes him. His eyes fly open. He is facing the outside wall of the darkened tack room with his back to the door, a position that renders him vulnerable. Instinctively he knows the threat is behind him, but he dares not betray himself with any movement. He seeks advantage from his weakness. He waits, silent, alert, his senses so acutely focused they seem to tingle. He knows he is not alone.

He detects a subtle shift of air. His heart is thudding against the wall of his chest as the tension in his muscles rachets. He forces himself to remember the war is over.

He turns, the coarse woollen blanket rough against his bare skin. The door to the tack room hangs open and leaning against its frame is Nora. The moonlight spilling through the gap in the mouldering curtains plays upon her satin nightdress, rendering it pearlescent and alluring in the darkness. She offers him a mischievous smile.

‘I told you I needed to improve my sneaking skills. You clearly detected my presence too soon.’ Jack’s mouth is dry as she sidles through the doorway, the satin moving upon her like a tempting second skin. She runs her fingers over the shirt draped across the arched back of the Bentwood chair.

‘I was right, then.’

He pushes himself upright in bed, the blanket slipping to his waist.

‘What are you doing here, Nora?’

Light dances in her eyes. ‘Testing my suspicions.’ There is playful flirtation in her voice. ‘She’s kicked you out.’

‘She hasn’t done anything of the kind.’

‘Then why are you out here rather than cosily tucked up with her? That’s where I’d want you after six years of being apart. I’d want you as close to me as physically possible.’

‘I have nightmares. I didn’t want to disturb Gwen … I didn’t want my shouting to frighten Tom.’