‘Fell down the chimney? Since when does that happen? I can’t cope with all this. I feel like my head’s going to explode,’ she said. ‘The shop break-in. Flowers beheaded in my garden. Lovely Ralph is dead, and someone’s moved his body. Now this fucking thing … How can it be all coincidence? He’s back, Pete. It’s got to be him. What the fuck am I going to do? I’m a dead woman. It’ll be me next. He’s not going to let me get away this time … Oh God, I can’t even tell the police because they’ll think I killed Ralph.’

Pete knelt at her feet and wrapped his arms tightly around her again. ‘Shhh. Stop. Deep breaths. You’re reading far too much into all this. Like I said, it’s all coincidence, I’m sure it is. Nobody’s after you. Nothing else is going to happen. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.’

‘Ralph…’ Meredith sobbed. ‘Poor Ralph, and Paula…’

‘I know… it’s just horrific, and you’re in shock. The rat’s nothing. Nobody’s been here. I’ll get rid of it.’

He released her and began to roll a cigarette, his hands shaking.

‘Do me one of those, would you?’ Meredith asked.

Pete looked up at her, his tongue stilling as it worked along the edge of the Rizla. ‘Seriously? You haven’t smoked for years.’

‘Whatever.’

He finished the roll-up and handed it to her, along with his lighter. As she lit it, she saw Ralph on the earth floor again, as lifeless as the rat, and nausea rose in her throat.

Paula didn’t even know yet, she thought.

They moved into the kitchen so as not to have to look at the rat, and sat at the table in silence for a few minutes, smoking. Meredith usually loved the silence in her cottage, after all the visitors had left the grounds for the day, just the backdrop of birdsong and the occasional plane high overhead, but now it felt oppressive and ominous.

‘Um, you don’t really think it’s anything to do with…?’ Pete suddenly asked, his voice loud in the dusky gloom. He stubbed out his roll-up in the ashtray that Meredith reserved for him alone, and stared at her intently with his big green eyes.

Meredith knew what he was going to say and felt panic rise again even before he said it. She needed him to keep reassuring her, not to suggest she might be right when she suggested it. ‘Oh Pete … don’t even think it. I know I did, but it can’t be. It was twenty-four years ago! But … all this stuff. What if he has found me?’

She stood up on weak legs, finishing her wine.