‘Oh my God, Rupert. I had no idea. I’m so, so sorry.’ Emily lays her hand on his, and squeezes, the warmth of her palm scorching his cold fingers. Rupert looks up to see she has tears in her eyes.

‘It’s not your fault – you couldn’t have known.’ Rupert keeps dead still, not wanting her to take her hand away. It’s been a long time since he’s been touched by anyone other than Sadie or Miles, or his family. ‘When Caro died, I was devastated, I didn’t know how I would go on. But there was the tiniest part of me that felt relief, that there would be no more pain, no more suffering for either of us. Does that make me a terrible person?’

‘God, no. Rupert, you must have been a wonderful husband to be able to cope with her mood swings. I had a stepfather who was bi-polar; I understand exactly what you mean.’

‘I miss her dreadfully,’ Rupert says, ‘but I think I’m finally ready to start living again. Sadie told me I needed to move on, get myself sorted out, and if I’m honest, the best thing I could have done was to take you on.’

Emily nods, but slides her hand away. ‘I am very much enjoying working for you, Rupert. If you must know, I feel like working for you has given me a second chance. Now, pass me your plate.’

Rupert hands her his plate, a deflated feeling pushing all the breath out of him. He came on too strong. Emily clearly just looks at him as an employer; she hasn’t been having the same kind of thoughts he has. And why should she? He’s the one who has got used to coming home to a cooked meal, a tidy house, a lemon-fresh scent filling every room after Emily’s hard work. He’s come to enjoy arriving home, knowing that even if Emily has finished for the day there will be a small lamp left on so that he doesn’t come home to a cold, dark house.

He feels like he has to break the awkward silence that fills the room, as Emily stands in front of the sink, running the tap, her face reflected in the glass of the window that looks out into the back garden. ‘Leave those,’ he says, ‘you’re off the clock now. I invited you to stay – the least I can do is wash the dishes.’

Emily laughs, raising her eyes from the bubbly water to the window, when she lets out a gasp, the plate in her hands falling into the sink with a crash. ‘Rupert!’

Rupert crosses the room in two strides, standing close behind Emily, who is looking out into the garden, her face pale. ‘What is it?’