I rifle under Leon’s books and papers, which have taken up residency on the dining table over the past few weeks. I lift my laptop up and check the chairs, all the time trying to quell the sense of unease that is snaking its way up from my stomach to my chest.

‘What you looking for?’ asks Leon, taking me by surprise. I hadn’t even realized he was in the house.

‘I’m missing a file,’ I say, holding a hand to my head, willing myself to think where else it can be. ‘I can’t find it anywhere.’

‘Well, it must be here somewhere,’ he says. ‘Do you need it urgently?’

‘I’d just like to know where it is,’ I say. ‘I can’t bear to lose things. What are you doing here anyway?’

‘There’s been a cock-up on the lanterns for the concert and they’re not going to get here in time, so I’m going to take the van and pick them up myself.’

‘Where have you got to go?’ I ask.

‘Birmingham,’ he says.

I look at my watch. ‘But it’s three o’clock already – you’re surely not going to get there and back tonight.’

He grimaces. ‘No, it’ll be too late, so I’ll stay over and head back first thing in the morning.’

My chest tightens at the thought of spending tonight on my own. What if whoever broke into my office last night didn’t find what they were looking for and comes back again tonight? Might they try the house this time?

I’m already dreading the hours stretched out ahead of me, knowing that as soon as night falls, I’ll be imagining what could be done to me, without anyone else in the world being aware of it until the morning. I’ll count down those minutes and seconds whilst lying there, my eyes fixed on the ornate ceiling rose above our bed and my ears ever alert to the tiniest of creaks and things that go bump in the night. My sane brain reminds me that exactly the same things go bump in the day too, but it’s easy to forget when you’re in the grip of fear and anxiety.

I hate that I’ve turned what is likely to be my own mistake into something more sinister. Though a dead bird doesn’t help.

‘Have you been to the flat recently?’ asks Leon, blindsiding me.

‘No,’ I snap, far too quickly. ‘Why?’

‘It’s just that we really should start to think about getting it decorated, if we want to rent it out over the summer.’

‘There’s no rush,’ I say. ‘And besides, it’s good enough as it is this year.’

‘Yeah, but still, there are some odd jobs that are going to need doing. I might try and pass by today or on my way back tomorrow morning.’