There were a few detached houses on this side of the street interspersed between the towering apartment blocks. Many, like this beautiful Victorian home whose garden she was hiding in, had shoulder-high brick walls and wooden gates. There was a small garden between the gate and the house where dead summer flowers lay at drunken angles around a small patch of grass. There was no light showing in any of the windows; she was probably safe for a while.

She took a steadying breath before turning to peer anxiously over the top of the gate, ducking down quickly when she saw him. With a loud gulp, she leaned against the gate and slid down, her coat snagging on the rough wood. She felt sick and took deep breaths to try to control the panic. What was she going to do?

Heart thumping and breath rasping, she waited a minute before turning and inching her way up to look again, dropping down when she saw he had moved from the front door. He was standing on the pavement, staring down the street.

If there’d been any doubt before, there wasn’t any now. It was him, the man with the turquoise eyes. The stranger she’d tried to kiss on the canal. He was supposed to stay a stranger. How on earth had he found her?

And, more importantly, what did he want?

11

Every few minutes, Molly peered carefully over the gate, frustration growing as she saw him move back to the doorstep and lean against the door. Maybe she should go over and confront him, explain that what had happened had been simply a moment’s madness.

He was obviously intent on waiting for her. Squeezing her eyes shut, hot tears pushed through to trickle down her cheek. Jack was usually home by six fifteen. If the man didn’t leave, he’d meet him. Would he tell? What would he tell? Your wife tried to kiss me, she seemed up for it.

At six, she peered over the gate again. She couldn’t put it off any longer, she’d have to speak to him. Damn it, she’d say anything, do anything, to prevent Jack finding out how incredibly stupid she had been. She could have told him yesterday; could have made a joking reference to a handsome guy she’d met, brushing it off somehow. Now, no matter which way it came out, it sounded worse than it was. Their relationship had been a little shaky recently, she didn’t want to be the one who tipped it over into the realms of seriously rocky. Not over something so stupid… so meaningless as this. She gripped the edge of the gate, preparing to open it and step out. Then, to her relief, she watched the man push something through her letter box before taking a final look up and down the street and heading away.