A single lamp was burning in Willow Cottage, and I lifted the dog under my coat, hiding him. He was heavy, panting hard against me, and he stank of damp fur, but it was a comforting smell. It was 3 p.m., the light already leaching from the sky, and I decided I would cross the lane and tell Suzi what I knew. It was time.

After sorting out Poppet and leaving him in front of the gas fire, I crossed the lane, a treacherous journey given the slushy, unsalted surface. The black tarmac was slippery as a diamond. I trudged up their path, surprised that Nick hadn’t cleared the snow from it, and knocked. I braced myself to confront Suzi, to both blame and acknowledge blame. At the end of this conversation, we would know each other better. Who knew, perhaps we would even come out of it allies. Stranger things had happened.

The door opened and I saw – Nick.

‘Nora!’ He seemed surprised. ‘Hello.’

‘Oh, hello. I thought I’d pop by to see Suzi.’ What was he doing home? ‘Not at work today?’

‘I was a bit under the weather,’ he said, though he seemed fine. He was wearing dark jeans and a white shirt. I recognised it as an expensive brand my husband had liked, and I was surprised, because Nick hadn’t struck me as a dandy. ‘Suzi’s not here, I’m afraid. She went to her mother’s.’

‘She left when you were sick?’ A woman who was almost seven months pregnant, crossing the countryside in snowy weather? It didn’t make sense. And then I remembered – Suzi had told me her mother was going away for Christmas, on a cruise. Thank God, it means we don’t have to invite her here. At the time I had felt a strange bond with her, both of us with difficult mothers.

Why was Nick lying? Was Suzi there, but didn’t want to see me?

‘Oh, I got worse after she went. Better she’s away, to be honest. Can’t have her getting ill in her condition.’ He was already shutting the door and I panicked.

‘Wait! Nick, I do need to tell her something. Is she contactable there? On her mobile?’

‘There’s no reception,’ he said sympathetically. ‘It’s in some kind of weird rural dip, like here.’

‘How about a landline?’

He hesitated. I knew I was being rude, but I didn’t care. All the hair on the back of my neck was standing up. Something was wrong here. He wanted rid of me, I could tell. ‘You know, I can’t for the life of me remember the number. I never call her mother myself, obviously.’ He did a little self-deprecating shrug. ‘I can look, but you’ll have to give me a while.’