Stealthily, even though I know I am the only one in the house, I perch on the side of the bed and give in to the hum of curiosity that buzzes through me when I think about her, taking care not to rumple the pristine white duvet as I slide open the drawer on Caro’s side. It is crammed full of things, and I hold my breath as I dip in and pull out a slim date diary. I gingerly open the cover, flicking through the expensive cream pages but they are all blank. I put it on the bed next to me and turn back to the drawer. Pens, hair clips and the plug from an iPhone charger lie jumbled among tiny perfume sample bottles and I lift one out and raise it to my nose. It smells of nectarines and sunshine and has ‘Jo Malone’ written down the side of the bottle. Pushing it back into the mess of the drawer I see a half-empty packet of contraceptive pills, and something low in my stomach flips, the idea of Rupert and Caro tumbling around together, naked, right here in this bed makes me feel hot and uncomfortable. I stand, fumbling with the handle of the drawer, when a sharp ring pierces the air, making me slam the drawer closed with a bang.

‘Shit,’ I whisper under my breath, raising a trembling hand to my hot cheek. Taking a deep breath, I glance round the room, satisfied that I haven’t left anything out of place. ‘Coming!’ I call, as the shrill doorbell rents the air again, and I hurry down the stairs to the ornate, oak front door.

There is a woman standing on the doorstep, chic and glamorous, and clearly not expecting to see me answer the door.

‘Hi,’ I smile, ‘can I…’

She pushes past me with barely a glance, calling down the hallway towards the kitchen. ‘Rupert? Darling, are you home?’

I wait a moment, letting the fizz of irritation in my veins cool a little before I follow her into the kitchen, my bare feet silent on the Italian tiled floor. ‘He’s not home. Can I help you?’

‘Oh.’ The woman turns to me, and I catch an expression that I can’t read flit across her face. It’s definitely not friendly though. ‘Where is he? It’s Saturday, I thought he’d be home.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m not too sure,’ I say, even though Rupert left me a note yesterday, asking me to make sure his rugby kit was clean, as he was planning on playing this morning. ‘Is there something I can help you with?’ I fix a smile on my face.