He held her hand in his for a bit longer than he should have. It was as soft and warm as a plump little bird and he didn’t want to let go. ‘Thank you for everything.’

‘It was my pleasure.’

Again the cameras flashed and he saw her wince. He supposed they’d now have their photo of his ravaged face. And her with him. Damn, he should have thought of that and told her to stay inside. Suddenly, protecting his face didn’t seem half as important as protecting her and the haven she’d created here.

He wanted what she had, a peaceful home where you could simply relax. He’d make that his next priority.

He was sorry when the front door shut behind her, sorry to be back in a limo behind tinted glass that made the whole world seem shadowed. There was more flashing of cameras as they drove out of the gates. As he turned to look back at the house, he saw the group of journalists move purposefully up the drive towards it.

‘Maybe we should go back and help her?’

‘It’ll make things worse if we do,’ Kevin said. ‘Anyway, she won’t be stupid enough to open her door to them.’

It took a minute or two for the sound to register with Sophie. She looked round in puzzlement. How long had someone been knocking? She glanced at her watch, surprised that only a few minutes since Jez left. He must have forgotten something.

She hurried to answer the door. It didn’t take long to see that it wasn’t him, but the press.

‘He’s left,’ she said and moved to close the door.

A foot shot past her to jam it open. As she turned to remonstrate, camera lights flashed. She shoved the foot aside and tried again to close the door, only now it was a hand that was holding it open.

She froze for a few seconds, nothing in her experience having taught her how to deal with this sort of thing. While she hesitated, the door was pushed further open and she began to feel frightened. ‘Please get out of my house!’

The man holding the door open ignored her request, his expression feral – there was no other word to describe it. It was as if he was the hunter and she the prey.

‘Get out of my house and off my property,’ she repeated, trying to close the door.

‘Just tell us what it’s like being Jez Winter’s lover?’ he asked. ‘Is he good in bed? Is his temper as bad as they say? Has he ever thumped you?’

She gaped at him in shock, unable to believe these were serious questions. The man beside him started shouting at her, his voice a blare of meaningless sound.

The third man, who was her own age, pushed forward. She thought he was going to barge right into her house, but instead he elbowed the intruder away.

‘You’re out of order, Talbin.’ He turned to Sophie. ‘Sorry, love. I’m Peter Shane from In Depth. If you ever want to do a real interview, without the smut, call me.’ He pressed a card into her hand. ‘Better close the door now.’