‘Yes, thanks.’ Camile had included Chris’s contact details in her instructions, saying she should call him if she needed help with any matter in the cottage.

As Jan waited for the coffee to brew, Chris wandered into the living room, thrust his hands in his trouser pockets and gazed thoughtfully through the patio windows. ‘The grass will need its final cut before winter,’ he said. ‘I can do it if you like.’

‘That’s kind of you, but Camile left instructions on how to work the lawn mower. I’ll give it a go. The exercise will do me good.’

‘OK, call me if the mower won’t start. It can be temperamental in damp weather.’

‘I will, thanks.’

Jan poured their coffees and added milk – just a splash for Chris, the way he liked it – then carried the mugs into the living room. The cottage was compact, quaint, and Camile’s Royal Doulton mugs suited the décor perfectly.

‘Thank you,’ Chris said as Jan passed him his coffee.

Leaving the window, he settled in his usual armchair while Jan took the sofa. The living room, like the rest of the cottage, was furnished in the style of a country cottage with oak-wood furniture, white-emulsion walls and floral fabrics, giving it a tasteful but homely rustic feel in keeping with its age.

There was a few moments’ silence as they sipped their coffees, then they both spoke together.

‘You go first,’ Jan said, with a laugh.

‘I was just going to say, Camile sends her best wishes and hopes you have been able to do some writing.’

‘Tell her I’m fine,’ Jan said, slightly embarrassed. She’d confided in Camile in an email that she was hoping to write a novel during her stay at the cottage, but now wished she hadn’t told her. It seemed a bit of a cliché and she hadn’t produced anything except a few scribbled notes. Chris often passed on short messages from Camile, although he knew they had each other’s mobile numbers and email addresses. Jan wondered if it was an excuse to visit her.

Tinder, having eaten half his breakfast now, barked to be let out. It was his routine to eat a little, go for a run, then return and finish his food. Jan went to the back door and let him out.

‘I’ll walk into the village later,’ she said to Chris as she returned, making conversation. ‘While the weather’s good. I need some more milk.’

‘Don’t forget the store closes at six in winter,’ Chris reminded her.

‘I won’t. I always make sure I’m back before it gets dark anyway.’

He smiled indulgently. ‘It’s fine. I’ve walked along Wood Lane plenty of times in the dark.’

‘I know, but I take the car if there’s any chance of it getting dark before I’m back.’

He smiled again. ‘Nice coffee.’