‘Probably a religious nutjob,’ Liam says. ‘Met a few of those in my time. They’re usually all bark and no bite.’

I often wonder what kinds of cases Liam has to deal with. He never brings his work home with him and barely ever discusses the crimes he’s working on, though I know it’s usually robbery and murder. He says it’s confidential and that he doesn’t want to upset me by giving me any gory details, and to be honest I’m grateful for it; I don’t know how he does what he does and stays so sane.

I turn on the hob and add butter to the pan, but nothing happens; the butter doesn’t melt, and the pan stays cold. I put my hand over the electric plate and discover that it’s still cold. ‘I can’t get the stove to work,’ I say to Liam after a moment spent trying the other rings.

Liam comes over and tries himself, then crosses to the thermostat on the wall and turns it on, but nothing happens with that either. He listens but there’s only a click and no answering spark of the electric boiler turning on. He moves the dial back and forth but still nothing happens. He crosses to the light switch next and tries that. ‘Shit,’ he murmurs under his breath.

We try the light in the hallway and then the one in the living room as well. ‘There’s no electricity,’ he says to me, though I’ve already figured that much out. ‘It’s OK,’ he adds reassuringly, seeing the look of worry that must be stamped on my face. ‘It’s probably a tripped switch or something. Let me go and check.’

He throws on his jacket and steps outside again, braving the rain which is now even heavier, and I stare at the saucepan. If we don’t have electricity everything in the fridge will go bad.

Within a few minutes Liam’s back, his jeans already soaked through. He shuts the door and stands on the mat, dripping rain and shaking his head. ‘It’s not the fuses. I checked them all. It’s the wiring. Someone’s cut through the cables.’

‘What?’ I ask.

Liam repeats himself. ‘Someone – that guy – the person stalking us – has cut through the cables.’

‘Can you fix it?’ I ask.

He shakes his head. ‘No. It would need an electrician.’

‘Is there a generator?’ I ask.

‘The power’s from a wind turbine on the hill. There’s a battery on the side of the house. That’s where he’s cut the cable.’

I realise I’ve sunk down into the closest chair and I’m resting my head in my hands. ‘Why would they do all this?’ I whisper.