‘Fine.’ I sip my drink, unable to taste the vodka. I put it down then close my eyes for a moment. ‘Actually, I’m not. My vision’s gone blurry.’ Della knows about my migraines. I search my bag for my pills. ‘I can’t believe it. They’re in my other bag.’ I glance around, noticing Andrew on the other side of the room talking to someone I don’t know. ‘Do me a favour and tell him, would you? I should go home before it gets any worse. Can we catch up another time? I want to hear about Goa.’

Della’s concern is genuine. ‘He should take you home. I’ll get him.’

I’m shaking my head. ‘Please, don’t. We’ve only just got here. I’ll be fine on my own.’ And I’d rather be on my own than with Andrew.

‘You’re sure? Would you like me to walk with you?’

Shaking my head, I suddenly feel claustrophobic. ‘If you could just tell Andrew …’

Slipping outside unnoticed, I take a deep breath. I have no migraine, just an aching weariness at having to pretend, even to Della, that everything’s fine in my marriage. I walk home knowing Andrew won’t come after me, or even call to check if I’m all right.

Thinking of Della, I frown as it creeps into my mind that given the limited pool of suspects, she could be his latest. But she’s been in Goa, I remember, relieved.

So, if not her, who?

Through the darkness, the sound of an owl reaches me. Since moving here, I’d hoped to grow to love the countryside and the changes of the seasons, but I haven’t. Instead, the emptiness and the silence suffocate me. In a small village, there is no privacy. I wonder how much longer I can keep up the pretence that Andrew and I have a functioning marriage, just as I wonder how many people already know we don’t.

As I reach our drive, I hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps running on gravel, just before Hollie springs through the open gate, her hair caught in the dim glow from the lamps on top of the gateposts. She carries on up the lane without looking round, as the sound of sobbing reaches me. Hollie’s always been melodramatic, but there seems to be something different about her lately … I shake my head. The trouble with Hollie is her hype. Nothing small ever happens to her.

Inside, I linger in the kitchen, aware of Niamh moving around upstairs but she soon comes down, no doubt wondering why I’m back so soon. If she’s surprised to see me, I can’t tell.

‘I have one of my migraines,’ I explain. ‘Have you eaten?’

Niamh’s face is blank as she looks at me. ‘We had pizza.’