She tried to regain her composure and convince herself she was just overreacting. But she couldn’t. Before she could dare to leave the bed, she would need something to defend herself with. Something other than her pillows and duvet. Maybe her bedside lamp. Though it was far from ideal, it was the only thing she could think of that was within reach.

As though she stood a chance of fending off some strange man. Who was she trying to fool? She, who froze when she saw a spider. Running over people in a meeting using factual arguments was one thing. Physical violence was something else entirely.

But what choice did she have? Did she have a choice at all?

She turned over as carefully and quietly as she could, grabbed the lamp with both hands and tugged. The two screws were ripped from their holes, pulling out white plaster dust that fell on to her black pillowcase. Then she unplugged it from the outlet, wrapped the cord around her left hand and grabbed the wall mount with her right before putting her feet down on the floor.

To the beat of her own pulse, she squatted down and peered under the bed. Apart from her scales and the box of sex toys on castors, there was nothing there, nor had she expected there to be. On the other hand, she still found it hard to believe someone had really taken a picture of her with her own phone.

She stood up, walked over to the cleaning cupboard on the left and threw the door open. But there was no one in there either. She swapped the lamp for the metal tube from the vacuum cleaner, then searched the wardrobes.

Whoever it was, he was not in her bedroom, which for some unknown reason felt like a relief. As though everything would be okay, so long as she stayed in there.

She did, in fact, have her phone and could call someone. Whoever that would be. Gittan, who used to be her best friend, hadn’t talked to her since the Christmas before last, when Molly had had enough of her nagging her about getting herself together and finding a man to move in with. She had no one to confide in at work either. That would be taken as a sign of weakness, and right now, weakness was the last thing she could afford to show.

Granted, she could call the police. But they were probably going to start by asking if the perpetrator was still in the flat. So she gave the bedroom door a little kick, and it opened without a sound.