‘He’s left her.’ It’s hard to believe. Fergus and Melissa seemed like one of those bulletproof couples, built to stand the test of time. We haven’t seen much of either of them since the residential and I recall the first time I saw Fergus afterwards.

‘I’m so ashamed,’ he had whispered. ‘I just didn’t—’

‘Shhh.’ I had swept him into a hug. ‘Nobody is to blame.’ But had he blamed himself? Is his running away a result of his festering guilt?

‘Did Mel say why he’s left?’ Aidan’s phone beeps with a message. When he reads it he tightens his grip on his handset, his skin stretched tightly over tensed muscles.

‘Is that Fergus?’

‘No. The Thompsons’ horse isn’t right. It’s probably colic again. I’ve got to go.’

He heads towards the door, his limp more pronounced than usual, which is a sign he’s tired or stressed. I wish he didn’t have to leave. I’m used to him being called out at odd hours, missing meals, weekends, but tonight I’ve such a sense of impending doom.

I follow him as he opens the front door. The security light shines a perfect circle on the porch.

‘Lucy, go back inside.’ There’s an edge to his voice.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Don’t look.’

But I can’t help peering over his shoulder to see what he has seen.

My stomach roils. I clamp my hands over my mouth as I stare at the macabre sight on the step.

Two dead birds. Beaks hanging open.

‘Aidan?’ I’m trembling. One might be a coincidence, two feels like a warning.

‘Go inside, I’ll take care of it.’

‘Do you think…’ I can hardly bear to voice my fears. ‘Who do you think put them there?’

‘Nobody,’ he says sharply. ‘Nobody left them here deliberately, Lucy, why would they? It’ll be a fox or a cat or something.’

But he doesn’t look at me as he speaks and I wonder whether he’s trying to convince me or himself.

‘But—’

‘Mum?’ Connor hollers down the stairs.

‘Go. Everything is fine. I’ll see you later.’ Aidan pulls the door closed and, shaken, I press my palms against it, wanting him to remember he hasn’t kissed me goodbye.

It remains closed.

‘Mum! Ryan has messaged to say Fergus has moved out.’

‘I’m coming.’

I head towards my son, knowing I don’t have an explanation to give him. I run through the conversation with Mel in my head. Over the years, I’ve heard her happy and sad. Excited and exhausted. But I’ve never heard her… I recall her voice and try to label the emotion I heard.

‘Don’t come here. Just don’t.’

And then it comes to me.

Fear.

She’s scared.

She’s not the only one.