He squinted against the snow, denying himself the masochistic luxury of punishing himself further, slipped into Dave’s yard and over his fence like a robber.

The Hunt house was still and dark as Sam retraced his steps to the kitchen door. He bent down in the dark by Bart’s kennel, fumbling for the invisible dog to stroke, hoping to comfort himself with the warmth he stored concealed under his snow-dusted fur.

Bart was gone. Sam crouched, uncertain, by the kennel opening, his eyes adjusting from the lit street to the dark pools of shadow in the yard. There was no way the husky could get out of the yard unless the gate had been left open. But Sam had climbed over the fence and the gate was shut tight. Jesus, Billy would have a fit if he found his dog gone. There was no time to deal with it now. Sam would face it when the sun came up.

He pushed open the door and stepped into the dark. Sam started to step out of his boots and stopped.

There was someone else in the room with him. In the dark.

Sam remained absolutely still, trying to contain his breathing but knowing his entrance must have betrayed him. For a second, he felt like screaming, running from the room and far away from the house. God, he was jumpy. After all, he was the criminal. His senses were on overload.

‘Where’ve you been?’

He let out a breath that had been festering in his chest for an age, fumbled for the light switch behind him and threw it on.

‘Katie! Jesus. I nearly died there.’

She was at the table, her hair mussed from sleep, but her eyes glowed like those of a cornered animal, ready to strike.

‘Katie. For Christ’s sake, what you doing sitting here in the dark?’ He sat down on the chair opposite her with a heavy thud and moved to take her delicate hands, rested on the table top like a judge’s. She moved them away. He withdrew his as though stung.

‘Katie.’

‘Where have you been, Sam?’

He looked into that pale, lovely face and felt the spit dry in his mouth. In the back of his mind it was as though a hellish fanfare were sounding. This is it, he thought. The end of all that joy. As the lie formed on his lips, the first lie he had ever uttered to this woman whom he loved beyond measure, he felt the quiet and sickening noise of a door closing on his life.

Tight small mouth. ‘Couldn’t sleep. I walked round the block.’

And it was over. Everything was over. He had lied to her.

Over.

His head buzzed like radio static.

‘Sam? Sam? Baby? Is that you? Where you been, Sam?’