‘I’m getting that.’ He winked at her, so easy in his bones, always ready to forgive and move on. She didn’t think he could hold a grudge if his life depended on it. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We need to get some music playing. This place might be stunning but it lacks life.’

Johnny was right; the chalet did lack life. It was beautiful, but in a sterile way. It had every luxury but the effect was somehow deadening rather than revitalizing. Clover helped herself to a breadstick and wandered over towards the gigantic Christmas tree as he began, again, to rifle through album covers. She could see her own reflection in the glass; it was already dark outside, lights twinkling from the town in the backdrop. She tugged up the waistband of her jeans and turned back into the room, sipping on the too-strong cocktail.

The fire was flickering away, giving contented crackles that brought some energy and sound to the house, at least. She drifted over to the chess set. It had been set up for a new game when she’d left the other day, but it was in play again now— ‘Aha!’ Johnny said, putting down his drink to get the record on. ‘It’s gotta be this one!’

Clover barely heard. She saw the black knight had been moved to E2 and that black had lost its bishop. She hesitated for a moment, remembering the fallout from last time when she had interfered with their game, but it was so clear to her what black’s next move had to be . . . She bent down and moved its queen as the first haunting strains of the Rolling Stones’ ‘Gimme Shelter’ started up.

She looked over at him with a knowing smile. ‘. . . Ugh, my favourite.’

‘I know,’ he grinned. He knew very well that she could never sit still to this tune. She took another sip of her drink, the glass already half empty.

She instinctively closed her eyes and began to sway, immediately feeling her body relax a little more. A martini, some Stones, a fire and a Christmas tree . . . what wasn’t to like? She took another deep sip of her drink, forgetting about the chess set again.

‘Come on.’

She looked back to find Johnny dancing, his arms in the air. ‘No!’ she cried, laughing.

‘Why not? They’re not here. Let yourself go! Be free, Clo!’ he joked, bending and looping like an air sock.

She laughed, slowly beginning to dance too as she felt the music run through her. She couldn’t resist. It was her favourite song. She let her head tip back and her hair swing. She felt the stress begin to lift off her even more and she sipped her drink again, liking the weight of the tumbler in her hand. The melodies built up, the rhythm increasing as the drums came in.