The owner of the shop had been arranging a cashmere wrap on the shelf next to the window and she looked over and smiled at us.

“Come on,” said Harry. “I’ll treat you.”

Back home I told Tom that I’d gone out on my own to look at the shops because I didn’t want to sit with all the people at the conference. I said I was sick of listening to them talk about work by then and had bought the scarf with my savings as a treat for working over the weekend. He hadn’t taken much notice, hadn’t said a word about wasting money. He’d been a bit preoccupied and I’d quickly changed the subject, relieved he wasn’t going to cross-examine me.

Now I held the scarf to my face and breathed in the smell of Chanel’s Gabrielle that I was wearing in Paris. I hadn’t worn that perfume since. I’d wanted it to always be associated with that trip, and now in the dark, memories overlaid memories. Harry telling me he loved me. That he wanted to be with me forever. Harry standing behind me at the boutique window, close enough to touch but not quite touching. I’d thought I would faint with excitement. We’d raced back to bed afterward.

I put the scarf on the pillow next to me so that I could touch it while I slept. At one o’clock I reached out for my Kindle on my bedside cabinet. It opened at the copy of The Goldfinch that Tom had bought for me. I didn’t want to think of Harry while reading the same book as Tom. Instead I found my copy of Rebecca. I’d read it so many times that I could recite entire passages. It was so comforting. My life might be bad at the moment, but at least I wasn’t the second Mrs. de Winter. Before long I was asleep.

I woke hours later. I can’t tell you what disturbed me. My arm had come clear of the quilt; the night was warm, but still I liked to be covered and I pulled it back over me. My Kindle was facedown on the bed beside me. It had turned itself off.

And then I heard a click.

I sat up sharply and strained to hear. Was that the front door? My mind went into a free fall of panic. It sounded like the Yale lock as the door was pulled to. Was someone inside my flat?

For several minutes I sat like that, my body leaning forward so that I could hear better. I stayed absolutely still and could hear my breathing, my heart beating. There seemed to be no other sound in the flat. No footsteps. No whispering.