“Night night, lovely boy,” I whisper.

I kiss his forehead before I stand up and switch off the light. He likes sleeping in the dark, but Nina always insisted that he didn’t. When I gently mentioned that perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to pass on her own fears, she’d turned on me.

“What would you know, Marie?”

That stung because I know a lot, actually.

The doorbell chimes. It plays out an unnecessary, long-winded tune, which I’ll suggest to Stuart he change. I open Emily’s door, all appears calm. I blow Emily a kiss and rush downstairs. Stuart has beaten me to it.

“Hi, Tamsin,” I say to Felix’s best friend’s mum.

We hug. It’s quite a huggy group. I’ve got used to it.

“Sorry,” I mouth to Stuart. “You go back to whatever you were doing.”

He obeys.

“Come in,” I say to Tamsin, leaving the door on the latch and leading her toward the living room. “Help yourself to wine. I’ll be through in a minute with some snacks.”

I pick up a bowl of crisps and other nibbles before I join her.

“How are you?” I say.

“All right,” she replies.

She looks around. Cobwebs drape over the mantelpiece, pumpkins grin in front of the fireplace and ghostly images stare from the large mirror hanging above. “You’ve done an amazing job in here, it looks so...welcomingly scary.”

“Thanks.”

“I can’t believe she’s not here. Was it strange getting ready without her? I feel like I’m being...unfaithful somehow.” She takes a large sip of prosecco. “I was sure Stuart would rather we all met at mine or down at the pub.”

“I’m used to being here,” I say. “Nina and I were friends for so long that even when she met Stuart, nothing much changed. We almost became a threesome, although not in that way obviously,” I add. “I find Stuart easy to talk to. He’s a good listener.”

Tamsin is looking at me as though she has something to say, although I can’t guess what. Nina would approve of tonight; it was her baby.

“Hello?” says a voice—Sharon (mother of a friend of Emily’s) walks in, followed by several women: mums at school, friends and neighbors, Miriam, Abigail, and a man, Greg, who lives on the other side of the village. As the room fills, I sense a danger of the evening becoming too somber because no one wants to be the first to seem too lively. In hostess mode, I do my best to lift the mood, but my repeat reassurances that “it’s what Nina would’ve wanted” and that “Stuart has no issues with it” frustrate me.

“Between us,” I say. “I think he likes the company. Especially after all the burglaries around here lately.”

“What burglaries? I haven’t heard of any!”

I feel my cheeks burn as I clock Tamsin’s widened eyes. I feel mean—she lives at the more deserted end of the village. I shouldn’t have exaggerated like that. Nothing was even stolen from Stuart’s house or garage.