He looked first at me, then at the bag. ‘You won’t need that.’

‘Cigarettes.’ I shook the bag by way of explanation. Ian ignored me. I reached inside to pull out the pack. No matter, I could leave everything here. I could just run? Because I wasn’t sure that, when push came to shove, even with how much I hated him, I’d be able to do it. Bravado aside, could I really kill a man?

‘Where are you going?’ he asked as I headed towards the front door.

I turned back to face him, frowning.

The corners of his mouth were turned up into a smirk.

‘I’ve got a balcony.’

My heart plummeted. I wasn’t getting out of here.

On the balcony, the wind whipped around us. The space was empty except for a pitiful solitary pot plant. Ian leaned over the railing to look below, his head disappearing from view.

I shuffled forward and reached out my hand. I could just about touch him. His shirt flapped in the wind, tickling my fingertips. Could I push him over the wrought-iron bars? I stared out into the blackness, watching the twinkling lights of the surrounding houses. A train chugged past, slowing down for the station. Ian pulled himself upright, turning to take the cigarette I’d lit for him. Unfortunately, he didn’t live high enough for a fall to do any serious damage.

‘Better?’ he asked, pulling me close and nuzzling my neck. He smelt of red wine, smoke and a hint of citrus. The scent rooted me to the spot. I’d recognise it anywhere.

‘Yes. Tired. I feel wiped out.’ I’d made such a stupid mistake. I blinked back tears, grateful for the darkness. My insides squirmed.

‘The night is still young,’ he said matter-of-factly and steered me back inside. I wasn’t going anywhere. Not until he got what he wanted. I knew that now. What had I got myself into? I was out of my depth.

Ian turned the television on, flicking through the films on offer until he chose an old thriller, Donnie Brasco. I’d not seen it for years.

‘I’m sure I know you from somewhere,’ he said suddenly, leaning forward to kiss me.

‘No. I don’t think so.’ I managed a giggle but inside I was squirming.

His lips moved around to my neck and his hand to my breast. A voice whispered; play the part, Eve, pretend it’s Ben. You need him this close.

I closed my eyes to shut in the tears and reached for Ian’s face. Pulling it towards mine until our lips met. We shuffled down on the sofa, which creaked under our weight. His body, pinning me down, pushing his groin into mine. It was a mistake. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t give myself to him. Not willingly, I just couldn’t. He’d have to kill me first.