It felt too intimate, like when complete strangers come up behind you and tuck in the label of your shirt. The truth hit me like a bucket of cold water – I was almost six months pregnant. What would happen when the baby came – surely I couldn’t keep this up, this tightrope-act I walked every day? What would I do? I tried to change the subject back to her. ‘Is it just you living here? Are you married?’

I could tell I’d made a terrible mistake by the way her face stiffened. ‘I’m a widow,’ she said finally. ‘I wanted to be out of the house as soon as possible. Well, that’s not entirely it. I had to move – money, you know. My husband was the one with the career.’

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.’ Tears filled my eyes, to my deep horror and shame. ‘God, I’m sorry, I – I lost someone close recently. It was – well, I’m still getting used to it.’ Why had I said that? It wasn’t the same kind of loss, even if it felt like it. My opinion of myself went even lower.

Nora’s face was still frozen. ‘A change will help, I’m sure.’

‘I hope you’ll be happy here.’ I was screwing up my eyes to keep the tears in. ‘Perhaps you’d like to come for dinner one time.’ Supper, I should have said – she’d call it supper. ‘I’m learning to cook. So far it’s mostly burning, but you never know!’ I turned to go. ‘Oh, and if you meet Nick, that’s my husband, perhaps you wouldn’t mention what I said – you know, about the loss. It might upset him.’

‘Of course.’ She smiled. ‘I’m good at keeping secrets, Suzi.’

It was only when I’d fumbled with the alarm – Nick said I had to set it every time, even just to pop out, but I was always scared I’d get the code wrong – and shut the door and started chopping onions for the recipe he’d left out that I realised I hadn’t actually told her my name.

Nora

Nora

I’d been sure I would meet Suzi that first day, with just the two houses on this isolated road. And sure enough, I was still unpacking when she wandered over, dragging a lurcher pulling hard on an improvised lead. I did hate to see untrained dogs like that. Her hair was loosely plaited, strands of it falling over her face, and under her jacket she wore what looked like a man’s jumper. I peered closer – yes, it was a man’s jumper. I began to feel nervous. What would she be like?