‘This village, Ray, is the hub of this area and we’re in the throes of the tourist season. See many people? Well, this cottage he’s just drawn us a map to is three miles further into the countryside and hasn’t been lived in for four years. The neighbours will have a key, but chances are the door will be open and the odd tramp will have been using the place. If they haven’t been able to sell it or rent it out, nobody is worried about its security.’

They pulled into the neglected driveway of the abandoned cottage and parked up on a patch of tarmac dotted with weeds and potholes. Dirty net curtains still hung in the windows. The paintwork had peeled from the wooden frames and front door. Several of the windowpanes were broken, tiles had blown off the roof, and most of the front wall had been colonised by a hardy creeping ivy.

The cottage was crumbling. If it lay empty for much longer it would become uninhabitable. It was a shame. They were near the sea now and the surrounding landscape of hills and woods, leading down to a nearby, secluded sandy cove, was magnificent. With a little love and care, the house would be an idyllic spot to live.

‘Honey, we’re home,’ Ray said, turning off the ignition. ‘Reckon there’s any chance of a glass of water in here? I’m parched.’

Laura shook her head. She could only envision brown sludge pouring out of the taps inside. The group scheme that supplied the area would have cut off the water long ago.

The pewter clouds that had been threatening for the last couple of hours drifted faster in the sky overhead, casting an added appearance of gloom on the deserted homestead. Laura shivered as she got out of the car. The air smelled metallic – of scorched earth and rain to come.

‘You won’t be long waiting for that drink,’ she said, casting her eyes upwards.

He followed her gaze just as they heard a thunderous rumble, followed by the first flash of lightning in the distance.

It’s like God is answering my prayers, Ray thought. It was going to pour down from the heavens, the roads would be flooded and they’d be forced to spend the night together in this lonely cottage, huddled together to stay warm. He’d have picked a nicer place, mind, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

‘Let’s get this over with,’ Laura said, her words a cold shower on his daydreams. ‘I don’t want to be stuck here in that storm.’

She crossed to the front door and gave it a gentle push. It yielded immediately and Laura leaned in, announcing their presence. The deep silence of years of emptiness greeted her in return. She turned to tell Ray they were good to go in and jumped. He was already on her heel, mere inches away.