The line dies. At the same moment, the lights go out, plunging her into darkness. The bath suddenly feels very cold. Her thoughts try to follow a rational route, like flowing water, feeling their way along the most sensible, scientific path, obeying the laws of physics. It must be a power cut, connected in some way to the faulty front door. The house is over-engineered, too much can go wrong. Something else has come up at work and Rob won’t be back until even later. He was interrupted on the phone, didn’t sign off.

She sits in the darkness for a few moments, aware of her quickening pulse. There’s a noise in the main room. Automated, an electrical hum of some kind. Maybe there isn’t a power cut, just an issue with the lighting. She steps out of the bath, feels for the dressing gown, and shivers as she wraps herself in its soft cotton embrace.

She walks into the main room and watches with horror as the space begins to steadily darken around her. Steel security blinds are sliding down the inside of the windows and the last of the London skyline is disappearing behind them. Within seconds the blinds have shut out the remaining light of the city and she’s now in total darkness. Is the apartment going into lockdown, turning into one big panic room? It’s the sort of paranoid security feature Rob might have. Jesus, just how dangerous can Shoreditch be?

She remembers the roof terrace, turns and feels her way towards the door at the bottom of the stairs. Pulling it open, she’s relieved to see evening light spilling in through the terrace door that she left open earlier. She scrambles upstairs as fast as she can, as if oxygen-starved, and rushes out onto the grass. She feels better already.

The night is balmy, London bathed in a lambent halo, at odds with the drama playing out below. She pauses to get her breath back, tells herself to stop worrying. Why was Rob talking like that on the phone? His voice sounded so fragile, conflicted.

She has a sudden urge to call Jake. He’ll know what’s going on, what’s happening to the house. Where to find the fuse box or master switch or whatever. He’s so practical. This was always her favourite time of day when they were living on the boat. In summer, the two them would sit out in the cockpit, chatting and laughing in the twilight glow, glasses of wine in hand, their heads full of dreams and madcap plans. In those moments, everything used to seem possible.