She pushed her reservations aside as they entered the heart of the forest that surrounded their new home. Tall trees shadowed their windscreen, and Naomi rolled down her window, inhaling a lungful of sweet forest air. She had never seen so many trees in one place. They seemed to go on for miles. Her nerves bubbled up with anticipation as they bumped down the narrow path. Ed had been in New York when she put the offer in on the cottage. He’d trusted her more than she deserved.

Morgan hadn’t looked at the listing, claiming she wanted it to be a surprise. Her heart was with her mother in Scotland, and they would visit the private clinic when they could. Naomi held her breath as she waited for Ivy Cottage to come into view. It sat in a quarter-acre plot, completely enveloped by trees. Sensing darkness, the car automatically switched the dimmers on. She prepared herself for an outburst from the back seat. Here, in the depths of the forest, it was twilight all the time. But if it was this dark now, what was it like at night?

‘Hey, Morgan, check it out,’ Ed said, manoeuvring their car through the rotting wooden gates that led them to the private drive.

The bungalow was the antithesis of Naomi’s flat in London, nestled in the centre of the forest and bordered by thick overgrown brambles. She imagined picking blackberries for her pies and allowing them to cool on the window sill. She had thrown herself into baking since taking a break from journalism, but her flat’s compact galley kitchen did not afford much space to work in. It would be a joy to work in a proper kitchen, with enough room to bake all day long. She gazed upwards at the swaying branches, watching shadows flit and dart as the squirrels and birds were disturbed.

‘Oh,’ Ed said, leaning forward over the steering wheel for a better view.

‘Is that a good “oh” or a bad “oh”?’ Naomi monitored his face for signs of disappointment.

The online pictures had been flattering. In reality, the four-bedroom bungalow had fallen into disrepair. The cottage had grown damp from being unoccupied, and the roof slates were green with moss. The pretty flowers that once climbed the walls were now choked with thick ivy on the frontage of the home. The driveway was gouged with potholes, and the windows were smeared with dust.

‘It’s a surprised “oh”.’ Ed eyed her uncertainly. ‘The place needs work . . . but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.’

You haven’t seen the inside yet, Naomi thought, chewing on her bottom lip.

It was only a matter of time before he queried her purchase of Ivy Cottage, when neighbouring villages had much nicer homes for sale. By the look of what she’d seen in the village, they were a lot more welcoming too.