Then things started growing more intense. Peter would turn up on days when he wasn’t working, knocking on the kitchen door to be let into the house, calling into the shop and lingering while she served customers. She started to avoid him. If she saw him coming along the street, she would ask Jenni to cover the shop and would sneak out the back until he had left or she would keep the kitchen curtains closed so that he couldn’t see if she was at home. One day when he knocked, she actually hid in the kitchen cupboard among the brooms and mops. She started to feel stalked, like prey.

Then he let into conversation one day that he thought they had a mutual friend from all those years ago, someone in common, and Helen knew she had to end it. Preferably without a scene. She naively thought a few weeks apart would do it – out of sight, out of mind. So when his wife conveniently won first prize in a competition that the bookshop ran to celebrate the launch of the new Portia Deane novel, Helen was delighted. The prize was a two-week holiday in the Lake District, where the book was set.

Jenni was annoyed that Helen drew the winning name without her because she loved to make an occasion of everything. She wanted fanfare and an Instagram story to announce the winner; Helen needed to get Peter as far away from her as she could, at least for a little while, and as quickly as possible, so she fixed the draw. For two weeks she could breathe freely again, the suffocation of his advances alleviated, the worry about what he did or did not know dissolving away for a while. In fact, she had almost forgotten about him completely, what with everything else going on.

But it would seem out of sight was not out of mind after all and some men didn’t like to be told no. They didn’t like to have their cake taken away from them when they were still hungry. They were like toddlers in that respect.

Now she had something else to worry about – and how would she explain to Hugh why she had fired him?

*

She let herself into the house and got dressed for work, her mood low. She had been late into the pool this morning and regretted not going earlier as she would’ve avoided the run-in with Peter if she had. Having said that, he was not normally here so early. He must’ve been waiting for her.

Still, it was over now. She just needed to manage the situation. And if he confronted Hugh and laid bare their affair, Helen guessed Hugh had a few secrets of his own that she could bring up to even the score. That photograph of a semi-naked woman in his possession, for instance.