Rupert finds himself sliding out of the office on time a week later, something he hasn’t done for months since Caro died. He tells himself that it’s Friday night, of course he should be leaving on time, that it’s the weekend and no one else is doing any overtime – in fact, Michael – Caro’s father and Rupert’s boss – left at lunchtime, as he often does on a Friday.

An hour later, Rupert drives through the gates of Fox House, and is relieved to see that there are still lights on inside. Emily must still be here, even though she is usually finished by four. Adrenaline fires through his veins and he has to take a deep breath before he gets out of the car. He can’t lie, he is looking forward to seeing her, in a way that he hasn’t looked forward to seeing anyone since Caro died. He takes his time getting out of the car, giving himself time to get his breathing back to normal – it’s ridiculous, the idea that he feels nervous at the thought of seeing his housekeeper. As he puts his key into the lock and twists the door open, his heart stops in his chest. Music. He can hear music, something that hasn’t happened in his house in over a year.

Slowly, he closes the door behind him, the hairs on the back of his neck standing to attention. Someone is playing the piano. Caro’s piano. The sound of Tchaikovsky’s ‘Swan Lake’ filters out into the hallway and Rupert has to lean against the wall to steady himself. He knows if he looks into the living room, he will see Caro sat on the tiny piano stool, her back straight and her attention fully focused on the keys as she runs her hands over them. Tchaikovsky was always her favourite, and ‘Swan Lake’ was the tune she played whenever she’d had a bad day or felt less than happy. She’d play it right through to the end, as Rupert waited patiently, letting the music run over him like water. When she’d finished, he would go to her and pull her into his arms, trying his hardest to make her feel better, to let her know that whatever she thought, whatever she was feeling, she mattered.

Don’t be ridiculous. Caro is dead.

As the music dies away, Rupert pushes himself away from the wall and forces himself to walk on leaden feet into the sitting room. As he enters, Emily jumps up from the piano stool, a flush turning her cheeks a hot red.

‘Rupert!’ Her eyes are huge in her face, and she covers her mouth with both hands. ‘Oh, Rupert, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t expecting you home yet.’ She turns to the piano and closes the lid, pushing the stool back into place, keeping her back turned to him.