‘I like this music,’ Alex said quietly. ‘I can imagine you playing it.’ He looked so sad as he leaned down to kiss me, and that kiss, I can’t describe it. It was like he was a drowning man, like he was fighting to survive. I was frightened by his desperation, frightened but entirely acquiescent as he pulled me onto the rug in front of that fire and tugged my nightie off. He made love to me like he wanted to destroy me; he was so fierce that I was literally breathless, crushed beneath his whole weight but not caring, wanting suddenly to disappear beneath him. To disappear with him, or into him, perhaps.

‘I never want to let you go, Maggie,’ he whispered into my hair afterwards as we lay in the dusk, the room quiet now except for the hiss and snap of the fire, the only light the orange glow that flickered across our bodies. ‘I just want to stay here forever. It’s weird, but I’m –’ He trailed off.

‘What?’ I twisted my head to look at him. He was staring at the ceiling, where shadows danced. I’d never known him quite so melancholy.

‘I don’t know how to describe it. Scared?’

‘Of what, Alex?’ I clutched him tighter.

‘Scared I’m going to lose you, I suppose.’ And there was something in his voice I’d never heard before, something like desolation, and it scared me too. I hugged him hard and almost cried again and promised he wouldn’t lose me. And any fears I had about going down a path I didn’t like, well, I pushed them right away. I told myself he’d change, despite his words last night; I’d help him change if need be. I didn’t realise it would be me who did the changing.

We lay in silence listening to the fire until I promised I’d try to play the piano, I really would. Digby appeared suddenly at the window, grinning toothily, drooling, snowflakes like tiny crystals on his fur, begging to be let in, and we both jumped, then laughed shakily. But deep down I think we both knew the idyll had been shattered.

Alex got up. ‘I’ll get us a drink,’ he said, and I smiled, though with a sinking heart I knew he didn’t mean a cup of tea. He sloped off to open the door for the dog – and that was it. We had entered a new phase, without even realising it. The next phase. It was the beginning of Alex trying to bring me down with him, deliberately or not. And I never did play that wretched piano.

* * *