Regardless, she muttered the word coincidence to herself over and over, like a mantra, hoping to calm her flailing insides. She caught sight of herself in the large mirror over the hallway console table. Hair ruffled, skin deathly pale except for the red gash on her cheek, muttering to herself like a mad woman.

She looked away again quickly.

How many coincidences could there possibly be before she had to realise that someone was trying to tell her something? The coincidences were stacking up, one on top of the other, teetering, and at some point they would topple down on top of her, drown her, cut off her breath and suffocate her. No less than she deserved.

Helen lit the wood burner in the family room, even though it wasn’t cold enough for it, and curled up in the armchair with a book, hugging her knees to her chest, hoping someone else’s story would distract her churning mind. Instead, she found herself cradling her throbbing hand to her chest and staring into space, her eyes full of unshed tears and her mind hurtling from one thing to the next.

She heard a dull thud from somewhere in the house. It sounded like it was coming from upstairs.

No one should be home yet.

She crept out of the family room and into the hallway, listening intently. Clive was at her feet, had been since she had barrelled into the house. He didn’t seem to share her concern at the idea of a possible intruder. Helen climbed the stairs slowly, her eyes scanning for weapons within grabbing distance. She saw a moving shadow in the hallway, felt her breath stop altogether. She debated going back downstairs, maybe locking herself in the cloakroom or running out to the pool house before calling the police. It was only Clive’s chilled demeanour that made her continue up the stairs and around the corner.

She gasped at the sight of a woman standing with her back to Helen. Then Clive lumbered over to her and Helen realised it was Lydia standing outside her bedroom door. Helen exhaled and felt inexplicable anger directed at Clive. He could’ve told her that Lydia was home.

“Lydia! What are you doing home?”

Lydia jumped and paled as she saw her. She was clearly expecting to be alone too. “I’m not feeling well and I have a project to hand in tomorrow, so I came home. I’m… er, just going to go to my room to lie down for a bit.”

“Can I get you anything? Cup of tea?”

“No, thanks.” Lydia’s phone buzzed in her hand. She jumped again, alarmed eyes flicking to the screen and back at Helen.

“Ok, well, I might go for a swim, but come and find me if you need anything.”

“Yeah,” Lydia said and hurried into her room, Clive tripping along after her.