She tried to keep things in perspective and reminded herself she had done nothing wrong but her head insisted on focusing on the simple fact that she had been fired. The camomile tea wasn’t helping at all, maybe something stronger was in order. Alcohol, she knew, wasn’t the answer but as she got to her feet and headed to the cabinet where she kept her small supply, she thought it would be a good short-term one.

With a small glass of brandy in her hand, she curled up again. She tried to keep her thoughts on the good things in her life. Her friends, her lovely home, Flynn. But the insistent thought that someone wanted to do her wrong wouldn’t go away.

It certainly hadn’t gone away after her third brandy but neither had sleep come. Restless, Jodie switched on the lamp beside her and reached for a book she’d been reading. She tried to lose herself in it, the words blurring on the page as alcohol and tiredness took effect. Minutes later the book dropped from her hand as her head bounced once, twice, before slumping on her chest. But even as she registered that she’d at last fallen asleep, her eyes snapped open. And on it went until the orange glow vanished and the colder light of daybreak filled the room.

At seven, she heard the distinct sound of an alarm from the room above followed by the creak of floorboards, the opening and closing of doors and the hum of the electric shower in the bathroom. Comfortable, homely sounds. It had been a long time since she’d shared her living space. Few boyfriends had been invited to spend the night since she’d moved there, she couldn’t, in fact, remember the last time. Maybe two or three years before. Certainly, nobody had ever arrived with a huge holdall, intent on staying for the foreseeable. The thought brought a smile to her lips. It felt so right.

She stood and stretched wearily. It was time for coffee, gallons of it. In the kitchen, she set the little table with mugs and plates, switched on the kettle, and made toast, slipping the slices into a rack as they were done. ‘Perfect timing,’ she said as the door opened.

‘Did you get any sleep?’ Flynn asked, sliding a hand around her waist, and planting a kiss on her lips. He leaned back. ‘You taste of brandy.’

‘I hoped it would help but it didn’t.’ She smiled again and sat at the table. ‘Sit, have breakfast before you go.’