Her father always referred to him as ‘the petrol-head next door’ and Eva had been mildly irritated on occasion by the loud growling of engines while she was trying to study. Now she took in his height, the blue cotton of his shirt stretched over wide rugby shoulders. Under the spotlights of the ceiling, she could see the contours of his skull, his hair shaved to the scalp – a concession to advancing baldness. She guessed he was about forty. She was normally dismissive of any man over the age of thirty, but there was something very calm about him – a solidity that was reassuring, attractive even. The thought startled her.

‘I’m guessing your parents don’t have a clue about any of this,’ he made a vague gesture towards the wine, the bedroom upstairs, and she shook her head.

‘Please don’t tell them.’

He snorted. ‘Is that really what you think I’d do? Come on!’

‘What about Becca? Will you tell her?’

He considered that for a moment, holding her in his gaze. ‘I’m not sure, to be honest. It’s not that I keep secrets from my wife, but just, when it comes to Jo, she gets … Well, she can be overprotective.’

He lapsed into a distracted silence, and then roused himself. ‘Speaking of which, I’d better go. She’ll be wondering where I am.’

He held aloft the mobile phone he’d forgotten – the reason for his return – and then winked at her.

‘Be good now. And don’t drink any more of that wine, yeah?’

She laughed and agreed but still some awkwardness lingered.

As soon as she heard the car pull away once more, she snatched up her phone and called Alicia. ‘You are not going to believe what just happened,’ she began.

Alicia hooted with laughter when she heard, and then consoled Eva that the whole thing would blow over.

‘Give that guy a wide berth for a while,’ she advised. ‘Maybe even ditch the babysitting job.’

Eva knew it was good advice. But later she wondered if avoiding Ross would only serve to magnify the incident. Already she felt the push of new and strange feelings inside her, like the hollowing out of a dark, quiet space around the memory. Feelings she couldn’t admit to or yet fully understand.

7

Things might have been different – the incident forgotten – had Abi not invited the Campbells for Sunday lunch.

She had made the arrangement with Becca a few days before.

At nine o’clock on Sunday morning Abi began preparing the food. By eleven thirty the lamb was in the oven and she went upstairs to dress.

Passing Beth’s room, Abi heard a raised voice saying:

‘You have to! We agreed, right?’

She paused in the hallway, put her ear close to the door and listened.

‘I just think I look stupid, that’s all,’ Beth said. Words spoken softly, but Abi heard the bullish undercurrent.