‘Rav?’ I turn, suddenly feeling cold. The hallway behind me is empty. I turn back to face the mirror, my mouth dry, looking not at my own face, pale and tired in the glass, but behind me, waiting to catch that glimpse of movement again, but there is nothing. A pulse starts to beat in the soft hollow of my neck, a double beat that makes my breath come faster. There is a creak overhead and for a brief, dizzying moment I am back in the dream, seeing my bare feet on the carpet of the stairs, hearing the floorboards creak beneath them. I close my eyes, the world feeling strangely off kilter, resting one hand against the frame of the mirror to steady myself. The silver is warm beneath my palm, despite the chill in the air. After a few seconds, the feeling passes, and my eyes go to the glass again but there is just the reflection of the empty staircase behind me. The only sound is the shower running overhead, the hot water pipe giving out an intermittent bang as the creaky old plumbing tries to keep up.

Water. I head into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water from the tap, swishing a mouthful around to ease my dry throat. Rav’s mobile sits charging on the kitchen worktop and, straining to hear if the shower is still running upstairs, I tap in the passcode intent on looking up Ray Watts’s email. I don’t get as far as Rav’s email account. The screen unlocks on his messages screen, and the third message down is not what I was expecting to see. It’s from Naomi, received at 1.14 p.m. on Friday, not long after I went to see her at the florist. The message has already been read by Rav and I quickly swipe to open it.

Rav, call me. I need to talk to you. It’s important.

The shower goes off abruptly, and I hear Rav’s footsteps thud overhead as he walks from the bathroom to the top of the stairs.

‘Al?’ His voice drifts down the staircase and I lay the mobile back on the worktop with shaking hands.

‘Be right up.’