‘The wrong idea? It’s not 1945, Emily. I’m not a complete tyrant. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me the truth.’

‘I know, I should have told you. Will you forgive me?’ I turn to him, my eyes wide and after a moment’s pause he finally nods.

‘Of course I will. It’s hardly your fault that you were in an abusive relationship. But I need you to be honest with me, always? After Caro…’

‘I don’t want to talk about Caro,’ I say, getting to my feet and moving to his side of the table. ‘I was wrong, the other day. I don’t want to talk about her anymore, this is just about you and me now.’

Rupert gets to his feet, and I wrap my arms around him, raising my mouth to his, moaning softly against his lips as he slides his tongue into my mouth. I can feel him hard against my thigh, and I fumble for his zip as he hikes up my skirt, pushing me back onto the table. I’ll make Rupert forget about Caro, and Harry, and anything that went before.

Later, I am curled up in my usual spot on the sofa reading a crime thriller, as Rupert sits across from me watching some inane TV show with lots of canned laughter. The blinds are closed, the lamp is lit, and for the first time in weeks I feel safe. No one can see in, there is no scent of nectarines hanging in the air. I snuggle into the sofa, rereading the page I’ve already read twice, when my phone buzzes next to me.

Glancing towards Rupert, whose eyes are still fixed on the television screen, I pick up my phone and see I have a message from an unknown number. Instantly, I go cold and any feeling of safety vanishes. I raise my eyes to the blinds, double-checking they are still tightly closed. I debate for a moment whether to just delete the message without reading, but the last time I did that the message was just resent a few minutes later. Rupert looks up in confusion as I get up from the sofa.

‘Just popping to the loo,’ I say, brightly. I hurry into the downstairs loo, flicking on every light as I go and lock the door, perching on the closed loo seat. Finally, I swipe to open the message. It’s a video. Against my better judgement I press play, the sharp metallic taste of fear in my mouth.