They were a curse, sometimes, his sharp eyes. The way he couldn’t help but notice things, even if he wasn’t looking. Toby shut the cutlery drawer, put his spoon in the mug, and then stopped. He leaned on the old worktop, his brain speeding ahead even as he tried to stop it, tried to unsee what he had seen.

His gaze moved from the surface of his unstirred tea to the first drawer he’d opened, the one stuffed with various papers. He wouldn’t open it again – Rachel had invited him into her home and he had no intention of snooping. But it was too late. What he’d seen – however briefly – had imprinted itself in his mind. It was there now, like a photograph, and would be filed away with the rest of the information his brain carried and endlessly sifted through even as he thought he was fully focused on something else.

It was so innocuous, too. Just a name on an old but official-looking envelope addressed to her. Except that it hadn’t been addressed to her. It had been addressed to someone called, not Rachel Talbot, but Rachel Harry.

Mrs Rachel Harry.

Thirty

‘Do I really have to read Shakespeare for this thing?’ Gilly asked, as Rachel placed three paperbacks onto the counter in front of her.

‘Why wouldn’t you want to read Shakespeare?’ Rachel asked, coming around the counter to join her.

Gilly rolled her eyes. ‘Do you really need me to answer that?’

‘It’s a requirement of the curriculum,’ Rachel said. ‘But it’s only one, and unlike in most classrooms, you get to choose out of these three, so count yourself lucky.’

‘Oh yeah,’ Gilly drawled. ‘Look at me, winning the lottery today.’

‘I promise to make it as interesting as possible,’ Rachel said. ‘And hey, you might be surprised! Come on, you need to get on and choose one. Have a look.’

Gilly pulled the short stack of books towards her. The one on the top was Romeo and Juliet. ‘There’s no way I’m reading that lovesick crap,’ she declared, ‘I’d rather live in a ditch for the rest of my life.’

‘Bit dramatic, but okay,’ Rachel said, taking the offending volume and setting it aside.

Gilly examined the other two offerings. One was Much Ado About Nothing and the other was Julius Caesar.

‘You’ve discarded Tragedy, so now you get to choose between Comedy or History,’ Rachel said. ‘Although to be honest I’d recommend you read both of them, even though we’ll only go into depth about one.’

‘Because, if anything, I am in need of fun,’ Gilly quipped. ‘Which one’s got the most death in it? Julius Caesar got done in with knives, right?’ She picked up the play and flicked through it.

‘That’s right.’

‘Well, that sounds like fun.’

‘Great!’ Rachel beamed. ‘Well, that was easy.’

‘Hang on,’ Gilly said. ‘Wait a minute. You said it was a historical play.’

‘Yes. It’s exciting. It’s full of battles and back-stabbing – literally – and prophecies of doom. It’s good stuff.’