She felt an uneasiness turn over in the pit of the stomach. She had instinctively known Mathieson’s last gift was too good for someone like her, though she’d kept it anyway. She hadn’t been able to hand it back, no matter how much her pride had advised otherwise. And she had paid the price. She had never asked him from where he bought her books, partly because it would have made no difference to her back then; she wouldn’t have known one bookshop from any other, she’d had no perspective. But being here now and knowing she owned something that belonged in a house like this one . . . She knew he couldn’t have afforded it, so how had he come by it? Had it been a gift to him first?

Carefully, she lifted it from the stand, feeling the same weight in her hands. It was too big to hold unsupported but she wanted to see more, to be sure the books were exact copies. She walked over to the nearest of the armchairs so that she might rest it in her lap—

The scream escaped her, the book a moment later as it fell to the ground, landing heavily face down, the cover splayed.

‘What . . . wha . . .?’ she gasped, stumbling backwards into the side of another chair as the cheetah stared back at her. It had risen from its prone position at her approach and was now sitting upright, lower jaw hanging down and panting. Around its neck was a bejewelled sapphire-blue leather collar and the attached lead hung slack in a young, sleeping woman’s hand.

‘Hmmm?’ she murmured, inhaling deeply and blinking slowly several times, gazing back at Effie through dreamy brown doe eyes. ‘Oh heavens, don’t say I fell into another nap?’

Effie gawped back. She couldn’t take her eyes off the big cat. It was sitting less than six feet away from her, easily within pouncing distance. ‘That’s a cheetah,’ she whispered, her voice faint with fear.

The woman seemed to come to. ‘. . . Why, yes,’ she smiled languidly. ‘I suppose she is. Her name’s Margaux. Isn’t she darling?’

When Effie didn’t reply, the woman looked back at her.

‘Heavens, you’re awfully white. Oughtn’t you to sit down? You look like you may faint, dear. Would you like some tea? Or something stronger? I find a G&T at this time terribly reviving.’

‘I . . . I . . .’ Effie’s hands reached behind her, grasping for the route around the chair, but she wouldn’t take her eyes off the cheetah for a single moment. Her bare feet poked at the ground for obstacles as she slowly navigated her way backwards until the library chair sat between them.