‘All right, all right,’ he said, pushing up and shaking his head. ‘You should have stayed last night. I wouldn’t have drunk so much if you had.’

‘Yes, it’s all my fault,’ she said with a grin. ‘Have a shower, you’ll feel better.’

Thirty minutes later, she was drinking the first of the many cups of coffee she needed to get through a normal day when he came into the kitchen. He might not feel better, but he certainly looked it. She poured coffee, added milk and three sugars and pushed the mug towards him.

‘Thanks,’ he said, picking it up and taking a mouthful before checking his watch. ‘Damn and blast,’ he said, draining the coffee and putting the mug down with a clatter. ‘I’ve got to fly. There’s an early meeting this morning, if I don’t rush, I’m going to be late.’ A quick kiss on her cheek and he was gone.

A wave of relief washed over her. It was work. She’d seen the worried look. Work. It could be sorted.

With a quick look at the time, she put their mugs into the dishwasher, grabbed her bag and coat and headed out the door. Eight minutes steady walk got her to South Kensington Underground and fifteen minutes later, she was in work. Her job as account manager for Dawson Marketing used to be fun, but recently she’d started to find the work stultifyingly boring and the day dragged. Finally, when her clock ticked to four thirty, she picked up her bag and left.

The journey home was one she could do almost in her sleep; sometimes, running on autopilot, she’d arrive home and not remember anything about getting there.

Today, she turned into her street, her mind on Jack. She wondered whether Petra had contacted her friend yet. It would be better to wait until she rang, she didn’t want to appear too eager to hear, too worried about what she might have discovered. She stood on the kerb, waiting for a gap in the traffic to cross the street, her eyes drifting automatically towards her house, blinking in disbelief when she saw the man standing on her doorstep.

Her gasp was loud, automatic, pushing her backward; she stumbled even as she searched frantically for somewhere to hide. Desperation forced her to try a gate. It opened, she slipped through, closed it quickly behind her and leaned against it, trembling. She hoped whoever lived in the house wouldn’t come rushing out to chase her away because she was incapable of moving.