The faint light from the security lights outside that had taken the edge off total darkness earlier now disappeared too as the storm took out a power line somewhere.

‘You all right?’ Through the quilt, Jack gave my toes a gentle squeeze.

‘Yes, thanks. I’m a bit old to be afraid of the dark.’

‘Fears often aren’t rational and are certainly no respecter of age.’

‘Are you all right?’ I asked, suddenly aware that Jack was right. Fears had no respect for gender expectations either.

‘Yeah, fine.’

‘You’re right, though. And thank you for asking. I suppose living alone for so long, you generally just end up having to deal with things, whether you like them or not. I’m not a big lover of spiders, but when there’s no one else to call upon, you have to find a way, don’t you?’

‘Clive loves spiders.’

‘He does?’

‘Yep. Good at catching them, too.’

‘Really? What does he do with them?’

‘Eats them, usually.’

‘That’s gross.’

Jack chuckled. ‘To be fair, there are far worse things he could eat and he doesn’t. At least this is a useful trait, assuming you don’t have a pet spider, I suppose.’

I gave an involuntary shiver and Jack chuckled again. ‘I felt that.’

‘Ugh. I just can’t…’

‘No, not my idea of the perfect pet either.’

‘Each to their own, I guess.’

‘Uh-huh.’

We sat in silence for a few more minutes, the house occasionally being brilliantly lit by nature before falling back into pitch darkness.

‘Shall I get some candles?’

‘I’m quite happy sat here in the dark if you are,’ Jack replied softly.

And oddly enough, I was.

‘Why don’t you try to get some rest? It sounds like the storm is moving away a little now.’ The thunder had definitely got quieter and the gaps between the booming claps had lengthened.

‘You can go back up to bed,’ I tried again.

‘I could. But it might unsettle Clive.’

I wriggled onto my side, having slid down again once I’d finished my drink. The dog was finally sleeping, one paw and his nose now resting on Jack’s foot.

‘Blimey. Rather him than me.’

‘Oh, funny. I had a bath in your girly bubble bath stuff, don’t forget.’

How could I? The scent of it, mixed with the scent that was just Jack, had drifted on the air to me when I’d opened the door earlier and come face to legs with him. I’d been trying to get it out of my nostrils ever since. Not because it was unpleasant. More because it was most definitely not unpleasant. I didn’t need delicious smells on good-looking, hard muscled in all the right places men to addle my brain.

‘I can’t even see you and I know you’re frowning.’

‘How can you possibly know that? It’s pitch black.’

‘Your body’s gone all tense and rigid.’

‘It has not,’ I said, feeling as tight as a snare drum.

‘What are you stressing about?’

Ha! You’re not getting that out of me in a million years.