She had introduced herself with a handshake. Told me we were neighbours. Told me that her husband had tried to buy the farm and the house after Mrs Winslow died but that he couldn’t match my husband’s offer. Was I supposed to apologize? Was I supposed to feel sorry for her? I didn’t even offer to make tea. Kept my attention on Stefan and played the harmonica on his stubby little fingers. She made her offer and I accepted with little more than a shrug. I didn’t expect cash. But it felt nice to hold some. Felt oddly comforting to have a fist full of clean, warm notes that nobody else knew was mine. She must have read that in my face. Saw that I was for sale. That was the first time her smile reached her eyes.

I remember sitting up in bed, looking at the boot prints. Whoever had left them must have known they would be seen. No effort had been taken to wipe the floor. I climbed out of bed and followed them back down the stairs. The intruder had ventured into several rooms. They had spent time in the library. I found one large print in the centre of one of the white pillows I had used to build my nest. They had been in the kitchen and pantry. I don’t know if they took anything. I had never counted the tins of food or the jars of jam or the eggs, tomatoes and stale loaves that were delivered, without my asking, to the doorstep each Monday morning. I presumed the food parcels had been arranged by my husband or his benefactor. I had no interest. Told Stefan they were gifts from the faeries at the bottom of the garden.

I dressed at a leisurely pace. There was much yawning and stretching and considering of myself in the mirror. I dressed as if taking my clothes off; the inversion of a striptease. Had I dressed quickly I would have felt as though I were in a hurry to leave the house and I would have found such a display of panic unforgivable. So I changed my outfit several times. Brushed my teeth for longer than usual. Applied a little make-up for the first time in months. I didn’t do it for anybody else’s benefit. It was all for my own. I wasn’t going to be scared. Wasn’t going to let anybody think they had intimidated me. I wanted anybody watching to see a woman who had been through more pain than they could imagine and who could laugh off a midnight intruder with a carefree toss of their hair.