It didn’t take more than a minute for her to decide she’d better ring straight away and book a visit for Monday morning, because that was her day off this coming week. She didn’t want to tell anyone at work what she was doing. The two guys were nice enough but too busy working to chat much.

Her lack of social life meant she’d managed to do quite a bit of artwork in her spare time.

It also meant that she was feeling rather lonely.

But at least Darren hadn’t found her. She prayed he’d let the stalking go now he’d spooked her into running away. Surely that would be enough to satisfy his ego?

She got out her phone and rang the number on the letterhead.

‘Stacy Walsh here. I was, um, delighted to receive your letter, Ms Chaytor. Monday is my day off so I wonder if you still have a free spot then?’

‘Morning or afternoon?’

‘Either but I’d prefer morning.’ Get it over with, she thought, then she’d not be hanging around worrying.

‘Great. About ten suit you? Good. We’ll look forward to meeting you. And perhaps we could see another of your creations?’

When she ended the call Stacy sat in utter numbness for a few minutes. She couldn’t believe she’d got this far.

What if she actually gained one of the residencies? How good would that be? She could live on her savings for that long if she didn’t have to pay rent and hope to pad them out with a few sales here and there.

She probably wouldn’t get it, though. They must have had loads of applications. But until they told her no, she could allow herself to dream a little, couldn’t she?

Then she saw the time and let out a squeak of dismay. She was going to be late for work.

Nell was delighted when she received a phone call the Monday after she posted the letters out to the two applicants they had liked best of all. Strange that out of so many applicants they’d only picked four, and then decided to start off with two, because it would be enough trouble getting two houses ready for occupation.

Strange how these two applicants had jumped out as exactly the sort of people they were looking for. They’d written such nice personal letters as well as sending photos of beautiful samples of their work.

But strangest of all that one of the most suitable applicants was called Stacy. The ghosts she seemed to hear might just have been right about whose house Number 2 was.

As she put the phone down, she smiled. She’d liked the sound of Stacy Walsh, who didn’t come over as brash and overconfident.

The phone rang again. ‘Nell Chaytor.’

‘Elise Carlton here.’

‘How nice to hear from you so quickly, Ms Carlton.’

‘I was so thrilled to receive your letter, and it did say any time next week, so I booked a car to bring me over. Then I realised I hadn’t confirmed it with you first. So silly of me, but I was excited, you see.’