The night I spoke to Tom I went to bed early. There was too much to think about. Did he really want us to get back together? I’d given up on ever seeing Harry again, but in my heart he was the one I wanted. I couldn’t just go back to Tom as though nothing had happened. At least he knew nothing of Harry. I knew his reaction would have been very different if he had. I started to think that maybe it would be possible to go back to Tom, if he could always be the way he was now.

I went to sleep pretty quickly but just before two o’clock I jolted awake. I’d heard a noise.

I sat up straight and strained to listen. I thought the sound was from outside the flat. Was it just a cat down in the alleyway? Then there was a bang; not a loud one, not enough to waken the street. I gripped my phone and slid out of bed. The flat was dark and quiet. Using the light on my phone to guide me, I tiptoed into the living room and edged my way to the window, where I moved the curtain slightly to one side and peered out onto the street. There was no one in sight. Nothing moved. My car was exactly where I’d left it. It didn’t look like it had been disturbed. I stood for a few minutes looking out into the desolate street. It was a windy night and a plastic bag blew up and down, knocking into parked cars, then lurching away as the wind changed.

I stood at the window for a long time. I heard the soft roar of a car in the distance and the wind as it rattled the panes, but there was no other sound. There were no lights on in the houses and flats nearby. All was quiet.

Chilled and nervous, I went back toward my bedroom. To reach it I had to walk past the stairs down to the little hallway and automatically I glanced down, flashing the torch on my phone. When I saw the white envelope lying on the mat just inside the front door, I froze.

Stealthily I crept down the stairs and picked up the envelope then ran back upstairs as though someone was after me. My heart pounding, I switched on the lamp in my bedroom and opened the envelope.