I’ve been working at Fox House (the house not only has a beautiful sweeping drive, but a name too!) for a little over a month and I can’t lie, it’s not just the incredible house that has me skipping into work every day. Rupert is… well, Rupert is just about the perfect man from what I’ve seen of him so far, which to be fair isn’t a huge amount, but enough to make me not mind the commute into work every day. He’s good-looking, that goes without saying, but he’s also a nice guy. He doesn’t leave too much of a mess (no more than a typical guy, and nothing like the scale of untidiness that I saw when I first came), he’s polite (he leaves me notes with lots of ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ dotted through them when he wants me to do certain things), and judging by the letters he leaves lying on the kitchen worktop he donates to charity a lot, especially to a children’s charity, which made my heart skip a beat in a good way. The only tiny, little thing that makes me feel a bit awkward is the idea of his wife.

He hasn’t mentioned her again since the day I came for my job interview, and I don’t feel as if I can ask about her. There are no photos of Caro anywhere in the house, something that strikes me as odd. I could understand that perhaps Rupert doesn’t want her photos on display downstairs, that maybe it is too painful, but I thought that he might have one in his bedroom, but there’s nothing. All he keeps on the bedside table is a small lamp, a water glass and a battered copy of Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code. On the other side of the bed – Caro’s side – the nightstand is bare, apart from a matching lamp.