They’ve also discussed couriering the key over here to let her out, but Rob is now at another office across town and by the time the key’s arrived, he’ll be back here in person. He’s also nervous about handing the master key over to a stranger, which is fair enough. She’s a woman on her own and he doesn’t want anyone turning up to let themselves in.

She reaches across and takes another sip of Sancerre. She knows there might be an alternative explanation for what’s happened here tonight: the front door could be fixed sooner, but Rob is being over-cautious about her personal safety. He doesn’t want her wandering the streets of London so soon after the court trial in Swindon. A part of her would be furious if that were the case. How dare he decide what she can and can’t do? But in light of what happened in Cornwall – her drink being spiked, her nearly being run down in the street, the dead body on the beach – she can hardly be angry with him if he’s being over-protective of her. She’s lucky to have someone who cares.

And it’s turned into a good night in, given the circumstances. She has watched a movie on Netflix, drunk too much wine and eaten a whole bar of Peruvian dark chocolate, which he also bought for her, and she’s now feeling sick. She still hasn’t turned on her mobile and talked to Jake. Their worlds feel further apart than ever as she lies here in Shoreditch, sipping Sancerre. If Jake saw her now, he could be forgiven for thinking that the only impostor is her.

A call on the landline disturbs her drunken reverie. She reaches across to pick up the receiver, careful not to get it wet. It’s Rob again.

‘You still in the bath?’ he asks. His voice is gentle, reassuring. Familiar.

‘How did you guess?’ she says, wishing he were here with her. To her right, of course.

‘I’m sorry, this isn’t how I wanted it to be,’ he says enigmatically.

‘How you wanted what to be?’ she asks, her smile fading.

The tone of Rob’s voice is beginning to scare her. Does he mean their evening together?

‘Don’t wait up for me,’ he says, sounding almost tearful now. ‘I love you.’

‘Wait,’ she says, sitting up.