Chloe looks out of the window, at the miles of fields beyond, a bland lifeless landscape. She tries hard to picture the single person who would want this room. Surely it’s too isolated here for anyone, including Maureen and Patrick?

‘The only thing would be getting into town each day. I work there, you see,’ Chloe says.

Maureen nods. ‘I think there’s a bus that runs regularly, Pat might know.’

‘Yes, there is. I came on the bus today.’

She buys a few more moments in the room discussing bus timetables, ticking off on her fingers fictional times when she’d be leaving and coming home, basing it on her old office routine, of course. All the time she’s studying every detail of Maureen, the way she wrings her hands, then straightens out the pinny she’s wearing. How every so often she tucks a loose tendril of hair behind her ear, even if it’s not there. How long has she wanted to be here? No detail is lost on Chloe.

‘You might be better closer to your work?’ Maureen suggests. ‘Not that I want to put you off.’

Chloe feels the jump of panic inside, the thought of letting Maureen talk her out of the room she doesn’t even want.

‘Hmm, maybe. Has there been much interest?’

‘You’re the first,’ Maureen says. ‘The advert has been up two weeks already.’

Chloe’s mind settles again. She tries to say all the right things then; she discusses the price and appears to do a quick calculation in her head, nodding to make it seem doable. She even tests the mattress on the bed; it’s firmer than the one she has at Nan’s. She’s surprised when she makes the comparison, as if she’s playing with the idea of actually taking the room.

‘Well, it’s very nice. Can I let you know?’

‘Of course,’ Maureen says. ‘As you can see it’s available immediately, just give me a call once you’ve seen the other places.’

Chloe’s cheeks flush with heat, knowing there are no other rooms to view. She quickly turns to leave the bedroom before Maureen notices.

The two women step out onto the landing and Maureen closes the door behind them. As Chloe follows her down the stairs she looks back at the room next to the one they’re renting out. Maureen hadn’t opened that one and it’s locked with a shiny padlock, identical to the one she saw on the door inside the room. She resists the urge to ask Maureen what’s in there, but curiosity rattles inside.

Back in the hallway, sun streams through the glass panel at the top of the front door, lighting up the parquet flooring.

‘The clouds must have cleared,’ Maureen says. ‘There might even be a rainbow.’

Chloe glances out the glass. Yes, Maureen might well be right.