The searing pain took her by surprise and she staggered, gasped, clutching her chest. An iron band seemed to be crushing the air from her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. She felt as if she were dying. Please, she thought, as she tried to catch her breath, please don’t let me die … not like this. She weakly called out Devan’s name. But all she got back was cold silence.

Connie had no idea how long she stood slumped against the door. It was the arrival of a taxi immediately outside, disgorging a party of shrieking, drunk girls, that startled her out of her stupor. The pain in her chest had lessened and her breathing was easier, although she was ice-cold and stiff, as if she’d been left out in the garden all night.

Shuffling back into the sitting room, she went to the fire, rubbing her hands together, letting the gas flames almost scorch her cold flesh. She knew she couldn’t spend another minute on the sofa, or drink more wine, watch any more seasonal television. She should go to bed, but her bedroom in the half-basement seemed dark and creepy. She would never sleep down there.

Wandering about the sitting room, turning everything off, she made the decision to have a hot bath in Tessa’s bathroom and sleep in her friend’s bed – she was sure she wouldn’t mind. She hoped Monty might choose to join her, as he often did Tessa, apparently, now Martin was no longer around to object. She felt in need of even the smallest comfort.

As she went to check the front door again – even though she knew for certain she had locked it tight earlier – her eye caught Jared’s bag, scrunched against the hall wall where she must have trodden on it in her haste to slam the door. She stood eyeing it for a moment, then reached down and picked it up, holding it at arm’s length as if it were a grenade about to detonate. But she was curious.

The parcel inside the bag was wrapped neatly in blue tissue paper and tied with a silver ribbon. The gift card had only two words written on it: ‘Love, Jared’, then three kisses. Connie’s hand quivered as she gingerly pulled open the paper. What she found inside was a green woolly hat and a pair of brown leather gloves. Not hers. These were new, the labels still attached. But almost identical.

30

Connie awoke early on Christmas morning. In a strange bed and an unfamiliar room, having slept the sleep of the dead for a few short hours, her head spun as memories of the previous evening swarmed back into her consciousness. Jared’s present had brought both relief and absolute fury.