I grabbed my phone and dialed 999 but held back on pressing the Send button. Silently I tiptoed to the bedroom door. It was pulled to, but not shut tight. Wasn’t it shut when I went to bed? I just couldn’t remember. I opened the door an inch or two wider and peeked out, my heart racing. There was nothing in the little hallway except the coat hooks, with my jackets and a couple of handbags hanging from them. The doors to the kitchen and living room were open, and the light from the lamppost outside filtered through, giving an eerie air.

I didn’t know what to do. Should I shout, Hello? or Who’s that? One good thing about living with Tom had been that if anyone had broken into our house, he would have been on them like a rottweiler. I took a couple of steps forward and peeped down the staircase. The front door was shut. There was nothing on the doormat.

Two steps farther and I could see inside the bathroom. That was empty; there was no place to hide there. I held my breath and took a couple of steps farther on to the kitchen. The sliding door was pushed back, just as I’d left it.

I tried to take another deep breath but my lungs wouldn’t do it. I started to feel light-headed, as though I needed to pant. I tiptoed into the doorway of the living room and flashed on the light. There was nobody there lurking in the shadows, nobody crouching behind the sofa or under the dining table, wielding a weapon or reaching out to grab me.

I turned quickly in case someone was behind me, but all was quiet. I went back through the flat, putting all the lights on. I didn’t know what I’d heard. I kept replaying it again and again in my mind. I was sure I’d heard my front door click. Had I dreamed it? But I thought I’d been awake just before I heard that. What had woken me?

I left all the lights on in the other rooms and went back to bed, though I knew I wouldn’t sleep now. I took out my phone and scrolled through Tom’s texts, where he said he loved me. He missed me.

I wanted to feel safe again. I wanted to go home.

CHAPTER 55

Emma

Harry was staying in London overnight so after I met Tom in The Crown I went back to an empty house. I seethed all night. I had a hit list of people to blame: Harry for having an affair, Ruby for having one with him, Tom for hounding me. Ultimately I blamed myself, though. I couldn’t see one reason why I’d slept with Tom unless it was a last hoorah from my hormones, which meant it was far more likely that Tom was the father.