Most of the necklaces looked like they were real gold and, picking up a ring and holding it towards the light, she felt sure the gorgeous green stone must be an emerald. Why hadn’t Madi taken them with her, or at least put them away safely somewhere? She felt ridiculously honoured that this stranger trusted her enough to leave such things lying about so casually, and more than a little guilty that she had carefully stowed all her own valuables away in a locked cupboard under the stairs before she’d left, and had brought the key with her. But then, everyone’s idea of what was most precious to them was different, wasn’t it? Prue’s biggest worry as she’d packed to leave the village had been for her gran’s old cat, Flo, definitely the hardest thing of all to leave behind, but Madi had assured her she would look after her as if she were her own. Jewels could be easily replaced, certainly if you were as rich as Madi appeared to be. Pets really couldn’t. Prue had inherited the cat along with the cottage, but she had to admit she had grown increasingly fond of her this past year and was missing her already.

Peering inside the chest, she found that the top two drawers had been emptied for her, although the lower ones still held brightly coloured headscarves and neatly folded piles of nightwear and T-shirts. Similarly, a section of the wardrobe stood empty except for a few padded hangers, while the rest contained a range of boldly patterned dresses, smart jackets and trousers, two loose kaftan-type garments in Chinese designs that probably served as summer dressing gowns, and some very nice handbags and high-heeled shoes. Prue touched the soft lacy collar of one of the dresses and peered at the label. A good make. Size fourteen. Too big for her to borrow, not that she ever would, but already she felt she was beginning to know just a little more about Madalyn Cardew.

There was a photo next to the bed, a black and white shot in an ornate silver frame. A man, good-looking, probably about thirty years old, smiled up at her. Husband? Boyfriend? Brother? She couldn’t help noticing that the photo was a bit fuzzy, the exposure not quite right. And why, she wondered, if the picture was important enough to stand by her bed, had Madi not taken it with her, just as Prue herself had brought a few favourite family photos along with her, tucked into the little pocket inside her purse? She was being too inquisitive, of course. She had no business asking such questions, or snooping into Madi’s life. It was enough that she had free run of the place, that she had found somewhere private and comfortable to hide away and lick her wounds.

A combination of adrenalin, excitement, and curiosity had taken her over for a while but now she just felt tired. She needed normality. To eat, make a cup of tea, unpack and watch some TV before climbing into Madi’s bed. No, it was her bed now, for the next month anyway.