Henry Carpenter. Rupert isn’t one hundred per cent sure, but he thinks perhaps this might be Emily’s Harry – after all, Harry and Henry are interchangeable, aren’t they? But Emily Beaumont? Emily’s maiden name is Belrose. Rupert has seen her birth certificate, and it definitely doesn’t say Beaumont. He toys with replying for a moment, but he can’t think what to say. He gets up and pushes his office door shut, suddenly convinced that his boss or one of his colleagues will make an appearance and he just needs quiet for a moment so he can think about this. The message is intriguing, but only if it really is for him, and given that he doesn’t know Harry’s surname, and that Emily’s maiden name is wrong, he has to assume it isn’t for him. And, a voice whispers at the back of his mind, Emily is your second chance to get things right, remember? You’re building a new life together, moving on from what happened with Caro. You’re starting over. Be honest with yourself Rupert, you don’t want this message to be for you. Decision made, he brings up the message and taps out a quick reply.

Sorry, I think you have the wrong person. I don’t know anybody called Emily Beaumont.

Satisfied that the message has been dealt with, Rupert snatches up his phone and wallet and shrugs on his coat. He’s already decided that he won’t mention the message to Emily – he truly does want a fresh start, and if he’s honest, a protective streak has kicked in. Emily has been through enough with her ex-boyfriend, she doesn’t need anything else to get paranoid about, and anyway, the more he thinks about it, the more he thinks that Henry Carpenter must have contacted him by mistake. The more he wants to think it’s a mistake.

When he leaves the building, it is dark, the weather squally with sheets of rain being blown across the pavement by the strong north-westerly wind. A storm is on its way, and Rupert hurries along the pavement towards the tube station, his head down to avoid getting poked in the eye by wayward inside-out umbrellas that some commuters insist on carrying despite the fact they don’t do a jot of good. He battles his way inside the tube station, remembering now why he doesn’t usually leave work this early – the rush hour is in full swing and he has to force his way onto the platform.