Will shakes his head. “That wasn’t what I meant. Are you going to be okay being on your own here, in the cottage?”

“At least without you here I don’t have to watch any more Battlestar Galactica.”

“I thought you liked it?”

“I do!” I laugh. “Seriously, Will, I’ll be fine. Nothing’s happened since the accident. I haven’t had a single text, Facebook message, nothing. Well, other than a text from my mum saying that she hasn’t heard from me for a while, but I can’t face talking to her, not now.”

“And the police think Angharad was behind it all?”

“I don’t know. PC Barnham said he’d passed on what I told him about Angharad the other day to CID, but I haven’t heard anything more – from them or her.”

“Don’t you think you should chase them up?”

“Chase up the police? This isn’t a bit of late homework!”

He doesn’t laugh. “Jane, you were knocked off your bike. You told me PC Barnham said it might have been attempted murder.”

“Might have been. Or it could have been a coincidence. Will, I’ve been on my bike, my new bike, half a dozen times since then, and it’s been fine. No one’s tried to knock me off the road.”

“But that doesn’t mean—”

“No, it doesn’t. But I can’t live my life looking over my shoulder all the time. What kind of life will that be? Angharad has admitted at least some of her role in all this, and the more I think about it, the more I think that Al was right – that everything else was all down to some internet troll trying to get their kicks. As soon as I stopped replying, they lost interest.”

“What about the hit and run?”

“Exactly that. A hit and run. No big conspiracy. There isn’t a single street light on the road between here and Green Fields, and I wasn’t wearing my high-vis jacket. The roads are narrow and twisty and, if you’d had a drink or three—”

“I get it.” He runs a hand over my head, stroking my hair. “I just worry about you, that’s all.”

I look up at him, at his big, warm brown eyes and the crease of concern running between them. “I know you do. But I don’t want to be scared any more. As soon as Sheila gets back from holiday, I’m going to tell her everything, and the rest of the staff at Green Fields.”

“Everything?”

“Nearly everything.”

“Call me if anything happens,” Will says as he gives me one last hug goodbye the next morning.

“Nothing’s going to happen.”