The house showed no signs of life. Thea had left the front door unlocked, and pushed it open impatiently. It still scraped on the floor. Perhaps, she thought hopefully, the sound would be enough to rouse Grace if she was still asleep. She went down the hallway, glancing into the living room and then the dining 67room, wondering whether Grace had come down. She then found herself wondering what she had failed to do to acquire properly hot water. The boiler must have been turned right down, or put on a very intermittent time switch. Gladwin’s lengthy list of instructions had omitted that vital detail, probably because it was deemed to be self-explanatory. There had to be a temperature control somewhere that could be turned up. It was sure to be a clunky old-fashioned system, like everything else in the house. Nothing had been upgraded since the nineteen seventies.

The door into the kitchen did at least have its stout bar in place. After the many brushes with extreme violence that she had experienced, she had finally learnt to take more care. Except in this instance she had barred the back, but left the front unlocked. Most people might see this as careless, if not downright irrational, while to Thea it seemed perfectly sensible. The door had been closed, after all. And to lock her visitor in would have seemed quite wrong.

She found herself actively looking forward to the arrival of the builders next day. That, if nothing else, would probably send Grace away. The men might well need to go upstairs, for ill-defined reasons. Turning water on and off, perhaps. They were installing a range of modern equipment in the kitchen, with wholesale disruption to be expected, not least to the plumbing. Thea was required to remain on-site, dealing with any unforeseen crises – quite how, she didn’t know, but it was pleasing to think she could be useful. She could take 68notes, perhaps, or offer sympathy. And she had to make sure nobody hurt the grand piano.

It was nine o’clock. She set the kettle boiling and went upstairs. ‘Grace!’ she called, much more loudly than the previous attempt, at the bottom of the flight to the attic. ‘Are you awake?’

There was no response. Oh well, thought Thea. She must have been very tired. And she decided to leave her a bit longer. She went into her own bedroom and tidied the rumpled duvet. Again, she missed her dog. Hepzie had always given shape to the day, needing to go out, wanting a walk, having to be fed. The gap she left was alarmingly large, and Thea felt a pang of dread against the day when the dog would die. She would get another one, of course. Perhaps it would be sensible to get a puppy soon, so there would be a generous overlap. Hepzie was only eight, with perhaps six or seven years still to go. But it would be unfair to introduce a new dog when the spaniel was old and set in her ways. Now, it would keep her young and active. The idea was appealing and boosted Thea’s mood considerably. She made a note to mention it to Drew when she phoned that evening.