An elderly gentleman sat down opposite Bloom. He was wearing cream slacks with a pale-blue shirt and had a coral jumper slung over his shoulders. The uniform of the well-to-do retired.

‘I just said that if he wanted to know he should call me. But he hasn’t. I rang the number a few times, but it just rings out. No voicemail. I didn’t know whether to text again.’

Bloom didn’t think Libby, now an exhausted new mum, would benefit from hearing the truth about Stuart over the phone. That was a face-to-face job. ‘How about I call round tomorrow and we can discuss it?’

Libby agreed and said that late morning would work best, between naps and feeds. She hung up. Bloom caught the elderly gentleman’s eye and smiled at him. He averted his gaze. Had he been listening? She looked out of the window at the city buildings drawing closer. The knot of fear in her stomach grew stronger and heavier. She looked at the old man, and again he looked away. She was paranoid. He was lonely, a man of a certain age enjoying a look at a younger woman on a train.

Or he was one of them and he’d been tasked with watching her.

Bloom made a point of leaning out of her seat and craning her neck to look at the doors at each end of the carriage. There was a sign for the toilet behind her. She stood and walked through to the previous carriage. She continued past the toilet cubicle and took a seat facing the way she had come. She scrolled through her phone, keeping an eye on the door. The elderly gentleman never appeared. Of course he didn’t.

When the train arrived at Leeds, Bloom remained seated while everyone else disembarked. On the platform a woman in a red raincoat was struggling to strap a screaming, kicking child into his pushchair. Bloom stood – she should offer to help – but as she moved towards the door a man came to the mother’s aid. Bloom waited in the doorway, watching. It was the elderly gentleman. He smiled warmly at the mother, then stooped a little and stuck his tongue out at the child, who paused his kicking for just long enough for his mother to weave his chubby arms through the straps and click the buckle shut. Her red face glistened with the effort. She smiled at the man, her expression revealing relief, gratitude and just a touch of embarrassment. The elderly gentleman said something to make her laugh and gave her arm a gentle squeeze. Then he straightened and looked directly at Bloom. She kept her face neutral, trying to read him. He was smiling, but his eyes were blank. And then he winked.