Her gaze drifts to the ring finger of Tom’s left hand. It’s bare and there’s no suntan mark where a ring could have been. She knows because she checked as they chatted after his seminar in London and she felt that first twinge of attraction. She found Kate irritating even back then, the way she hovered, listening in to Tom’s conversations but she’s been worse in Gozo, shooing him away from people, continually chasing and chastising him.

Jenna looks round at the sound of heels clacking on tiles; Kate’s arrived. She heads up to reception and taps Tom on the shoulder, making him flinch.

‘Tom, what’s going on? Alan told me he saw Jenna running through the hotel with blood all over—’ She catches sight of Jenna and heads over to the sofa. ‘Oh my god. Are you okay? What happened?’

Before Jenna can answer, Tom joins them. ‘Someone was throwing rocks into the patio. I think they were after a cat but they hit Jenna as she left her session.’

Jenna glances at him. Interesting that he told Kate it had happened after their session.

‘Did you pass out?’ Kate crouches beside the sofa and rests a hand on Jenna’s knee. ‘If you’ve got concussion we need to get you checked out.’ She twists to look up at Tom. ‘Have you rung for a doctor?’

‘Of course.’

‘And the police? Are they on their way too?’

Jenna sees the panic in her eyes.

‘No. We’re waiting for the porter to come back. He went outside to see if he could see anything.’

‘Right, okay. Well …’ Kate gets up and heads over to the manager.

Tom edges closer as the receptionist finishes up and gathers up the piles of bloodied wipes on the table. ‘How are you feeling, Jenna?’

‘I’m okay. I’ve got a bit of a headache but—’

‘No one there!’ A sweaty porter bursts through the open doors. ‘I had a look but found nothing.’

The manager asks him a question in Maltese, then frowns at the answer.

‘What is it?’ Kate asks. ‘What did he tell you?’

The manager, a thin man in his forties with a neat moustache, turns to address the group. ‘He thinks it was probably kids from the local village. We have a lot of cats here and sometimes they come to throw stones at them.’

Jenna thinks about the gap in the bricks and the eye, watching her, unblinking, from behind the wall. It could have been a child but the cat was long gone when the second rock was hurled into the patio area.

‘I still think the police need to be informed,’ Tom says.

‘No.’ Kate shakes her head sharply. ‘The manager just said it was children. What are the police going to do, arrest them?’

‘They could put the fear of god in them.’