‘There was someone out there, in the garden.’ Her voice wobbles and Rupert wrenches open the back door, the security light pinging on and illuminating the lawn down towards the trees at the bottom fence. The damp February air is chilly as he steps out, causing goosebumps to rise on his forearms through his thin shirt. At least, he tells himself it’s the cold air, not the sinister shadows at the bottom of the garden. He quickly scans the garden, but he can’t see anybody lurking in the bushes. ‘There’s no one out there.’

‘I saw someone,’ Emily says, her arms folded tightly across her body. ‘I’m sure there was someone standing at the bottom of the garden, watching us.’

‘A fox, maybe?’ Rupert says, not taking his eyes off her. Her shoulders shake a little as she tries to stop herself trembling.

‘I don’t think so. It looked like a figure, a person.’

‘It really scared you, didn’t it?’ Rupert steps closer, blocking Emily’s view of the garden.

‘Yes. Sorry. I… I definitely thought I saw something. Someone.’ She swipes at a stray lock of hair with a shaking hand.

‘There’s nothing out there now. I promise. How about I pour us some more wine? If that’s all right with you?’

‘I’d like that. I don’t really feel comfortable riding my bike home just yet.’ Her eyes flick towards the darkened window and Rupert wonders if she’s still imagining someone lurking in the thick, inky shadows. ‘Maybe we could move into the sitting room? No offence, but these kitchen chairs aren’t exactly designed for comfort.’

Rupert laughs, squashing down the memory of the argument he and Caro had had over the chairs – his argument being the exact same as Emily’s, that the chairs were a statement rather than something designed to be sat on in comfort, but it was Caro’s money that was paying for them, so he didn’t really have much of a choice.

Emily scoops up the half-empty wine bottle and their glasses and makes her way towards the sitting room, as Rupert plucks another bottle from the wine rack and follows behind, suddenly nervous. It’s been a long while since he spent any time alone with a woman who wasn’t Caro. He tells himself that it’s just a bottle of wine, and even if it wasn’t, Caro wouldn’t want him to be lonely. He hesitates for a moment, giving Emily the chance to change her mind, but when he steps into the room she is already snuggled into one end of the sofa, and she gives a thin smile as she pats the seat next to her invitingly.