Even though it was only five-thirty, the tiny world of Meadowbank lay in darkness. As Bella circled the green to go to the village shop, the duck pond shimmered with silver light from the already risen moon. She nipped into the old-fashioned store for a bottle of wine to go with dinner and as she approached Dairy Lane, she smiled to herself. She was more than ready to kick off her shoes and curl up on the sofa with Evan. His car was parked in its usual spot and she wondered what he’d conjured up for dinner. He was a much better cook than she was. She hoped for something rich and flavourful to fill her grumbling stomach. A thick beef stew and dumplings or sausages and gravy were perfect for a night like this.

As she passed Freddie’s house, she thought again about knocking and speaking to Nick, but Nina would surely have a handle on things and from the laughter coming from inside, he was clearly feeling better. Good.

Bella opened the living-room door and stepped back in surprise as Evan charged down the stairs. ‘Crikey, Evan, what’s up? What’s the rush?’

She glanced at the living room. The lights were on, but the house was cold, and no fire burned in the grate. No delicious smells emanated from the kitchen, and she edged further inside. Straddled over two steps, his face had frozen in a mask of panic. He scratched his temple where strands of light brown hair were turning grey. Why was he holding a suitcase?

‘Evan?’ she asked again, her voice uncertain in the face of his silence. A heaviness began to fill her stomach, driving away the hunger.

‘Bella. Ah, umm …’

For some reason she laughed. ‘Evan, what are you doing with the suitcase? Have you got a work thing?’

He worked as an IT consultant for a firm in nearby Witchbury but he hardly ever worked late at the office or went to conferences. In fact, he normally knocked off at 4 p.m. At least he had done before the last couple of months. He’d also attended more conferences for his ‘continuing professional development’ lately and Bella had been happy for him to go and improve his prospects. She admired his ambition.

‘Have you got another conference?’ Why hadn’t he messaged her or called to let her know? The heaviness inside her solidified to a stone-like dread.

‘No, I – this is awkward. I hoped to …’ He hesitated as if unsure whether to finish the sentence or not, and he couldn’t quite meet her eye. ‘I was hoping I’d be gone before you got home.’

‘Gone? What do you mean gone?’ A chill shot through her, and she longed for the glow of the log fire and its comforting warmth. He’d never looked so serious before. ‘Evan?’