‘Nobody thinks you’re a fool, Devan. Anyway, it’s none of their business.’ She sounded more sanguine than she felt about the village gossip mill. And his sceptical glance showed he wasn’t taken in. She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what she could say that would change things for him. His next words, delivered in a dull monotone, made it perfectly clear.

‘You still haven’t told me about the sex.’

‘Don’t,’ she said, lowering her face from his anguished gaze.

But, like a dog with a bone, he wasn’t about to let it go. Standing uncertainly now, his palms rubbing up and down the sides of his jeans, he looked like a small boy. ‘Please, Connie. I need to know … I can’t move on … It’s driving me mad.’

Her face was already flushed from the wine, so any blush would barely have shown. But she did not blush. Being reminded of those nights now was like watching a movie starring another woman. She was no longer remotely aroused by the memory. She sighed.

He waited dumbly, crossing his arms as if bracing himself for the blow.

‘OK, if you insist.’ She hesitated, cringing with reluctance. But however badly it turned out, she had to carry on or the question would keep being regurgitated, like kippers for breakfast. ‘It was … exciting, I admit. It was secret. You and I hadn’t made love for years. He made me feel sexy again.’ Her sentences were bald. There was no hint in her voice of the trembling desire that had existed between her and her lover.

Devan’s face remained shuttered and still. As if he were expecting more. As if what she’d said was not painful enough. Her answer was, indeed, unsatisfactory, merely stating the obvious. He must already have worked this out for himself, she thought. And any further revelations were out of the question. She wished she knew how to help him, wished she could soothe his painful obsession somehow. But she was as much of a novice as he when it came to mending such a dire betrayal of trust.

Before he had a chance to insist on more, she continued, ‘Jared’s still stalking me. I know you don’t believe I had nothing to do with him appearing in the village, but he’s followed me here too. Or found me, I don’t know which. He stole my hat and gloves, sneaked ravioli into my shopping, dropped by on Christmas Eve …’ Connie hadn’t meant to tell him about Jared’s visit, fearing that it would only inflame things further. The words just slipped out in her desperation to divert him from the issue of sex.

Devan was clearly confused. ‘Ravioli? What are you talking about, Connie? Wait … you say he’s been here? In this house?’ His eyes widened. ‘You let him in?’