The door opened behind me, and he chucked it into the boot.

When he got in, I was staring at him. He looked back at the chainsaw. ‘In case I need to have a go at that tree.’

He didn’t. The road was clear, the tree sliced into discs by the verge, pine needles scattered. The air was humid with our silence. Jim glanced over a few times as if waiting for me to say something, and fixed his eyes back on the road when I didn’t. My mind was jangling. I wondered if he could hear it. Maybe it had been him. I mean, he’d taken my book. That hadn’t seemed too bad, on its own. He’d wanted to read it, it was quite cute, really. But a swan feather on my pillow? Fraser had said—

Jim looked over again and I realised that I was shaking my head in a small, furious movement. I put my hand in my fringe and feigned a headache, giving him a blurry grin, and he smiled back, that diagonal line appearing on his forehead, his seaweedy eyes crinkling up.

Fuck it. Fuck what Fraser had said.

He braked outside the gate. ‘Polly.’ He was looking at me as if trying to get me to focus. ‘Are you OK? You’re not – that was all right?’

I nodded. It had been. It’d been lovely.

‘Give us a kiss, then,’ he said, dead gentle.

I leant over and kissed him lightly. He tasted of coffee. I got out of the jeep.

Lottie was in the hallway.

‘I’m really sorry. Phone died.’

‘God, Polly, please stop doing this. I just need to know where you are.’

‘I just said. My phone died. I was at Fraser’s.’

‘I thought you two had fallen out. Why didn’t you use his phone?’

‘The storm fucked the mobile receptions. And the landline. Was yours working, then?’

Lottie glared at me and crossed her arms. ‘Yes. And I hate it when you swear.’

I woke up with grooves along my palm from the keys, like I’d been attacked by a chihuahua. I put them by the orchid pot and pushed the duvet to the bottom of the bed with my feet. There were scratches on my knees from climbing down to the waterfall, faint, raised lines. A crust of salt on my stomach.

Dangerous. I didn’t know him that well. I had to keep telling myself that. I didn’t know him at all. Maybe Fraser hadn’t meant the hare-trapping and the bird-exploring, the unnerving vibes he gave off. But I didn’t want to ask Fraser.

Another orchid had flowered. White, pale tongues. Overlapping.

Adam’s face went through several fleeting scene-changes – surprised to wary to arch to wary to surprised again.

‘Can I come in?’ I didn’t give him the chance to answer.

Abstract music came from upstairs and the smell of proper coffee was thick in the air. Adam joined me in the living room and crossed his arms. He had a pencil behind his ear.