Jamie thought back to that day, the day they had said goodbye to Paul. After that day he had felt wrecked, emotionally drained by all the tears and laughter. But he also felt a little better. Their sex life had reignited, although at first he had been worried about harming the baby (Kirsty had to assure him that it would be OK). Even though, unable to help themselves, they had been quite noisy they hadn’t received any complaints. Jamie had even done a bit of DIY, putting some shelves up in the spare room, which was going to be the nursery. He was sure Lucy and Chris would write to them about the hammer blows, or even his footsteps as he walked around stripping and painting the walls, but no. Not a peep from them.

‘Well, maybe they’ve given up,’ Mike said. ‘You never know.’

Jamie smiled. It would be so wonderful if they had given up. Or maybe – just maybe – they felt remorseful about what they had done.

Wouldn’t that be fantastic?

A month had now gone by. Thirty one days without a threat or a complaint. There hadn’t even been any spiders in the flat, although, Jamie thought, that was probably because of the cold weather. As each day went by, he felt himself relax more and more, massaged by this new trouble-free life. He worked on the nursery in the evenings, painting the walls a neutral, sunny yellow. Kirsty spent a lot of time curled up on the sofa, reading; sometimes novels, sometimes books about pregnancy and motherhood. The results of her scan had been good, and she carried the photograph around in her bag, showing it to anyone who was interested. As Jamie painted away in the nursery, and Kirsty brought him a beer, he thought, God, my life is so run of the mill. But he didn’t care. He was pleased.

Paul had emailed them, telling them that he was in Ibiza, working in a restaurant, having a fantastic time and sleeping with another traveller, an American girl called Sam. Jamie wasn’t envious at all. This – right here – was the life he wanted. He still felt tense at times – still worried about the neighbours, still trod quietly – but it was nothing compared to how he had felt a few weeks ago. He knew he had been heading towards a breakdown. He felt like he’d had a lucky escape.