‘I met Mags.’ The words spill out, and I shift from where I am leaning against Rupert so I can look at him.

‘Yeah?’ Rupert raises an eyebrow at me. ‘You don’t seem too happy about it. You’ve been a bit jumpy since I got home. Did she say something to upset you?’

‘It wasn’t…’ I flounder, the words sticking in my throat. ‘She said she saw Harry.’ I blink, hot tears burning behind my eyes.

‘Harry? Where?’ Rupert frowns and twists to face me, as he reaches out and nips a stray hair from the shoulder of my jumper. I can smell his aftershave, and my heart rate starts to slow.

‘In town. I’m worried, Rupert. Do you think it was him? Outside the house that night?’

‘God, Em, we talked about this. There’s no way it could be Harry – Mags doesn’t even know where I – we – live, so even if she did see him, she couldn’t tell him.’

‘But if he knew where the flat was… he could have followed me.’ Part of me knows I am being ridiculous; another part is half convinced that Harry will find me and follow through on his threats.

‘Don’t be so paranoid – I told you, it was just someone waiting for a lift or something. Nothing has happened since, has it? So, don’t be ridiculous. If seeing Mags is going to upset you, then maybe you shouldn’t see her anymore.’

I let him pull me into an embrace, his chin resting on my hair, as I blink back tears. I’m not paranoid – I know I’m not – and I know that Rupert had bad experiences with Caro’s paranoia, so I don’t press the matter. I’m glad I pressed the torn letter deep down into the bin so Rupert wouldn’t see it. But maybe he has got a point about not seeing Mags for a while.

Chapter Ten

I let myself back into the flat – for what I realize will be my final visit – and start packing the last of my things into a holdall, when the sound of someone clearing their throat makes me jump, and I turn, one hand pressed against my mouth as my heart threatens to burst out of my chest.

‘Shit, Mags. You scared me.’ It’s a stifling hot August day and I have thrown open all the windows in the stuffy top-floor flat in an attempt to flush out the smell of Mags’s weed. Thanks to the sounds of passing traffic and the gas men digging up the road outside, I don’t hear Mags enter the flat.