‘I don’t think Luke thinks much of your plan, Auntie Hattie,’ said Xander.
‘Don’t call me that! Of course I’d hope it wouldn’t come to that. Fiona’s mother wouldn’t tell him where she was, and she doesn’t know where I live anyway. The chances of him rocking up here are tiny.’
While everything she’d said was true, Hattie wasn’t convinced.
‘Really tiny,’ said Luke. ‘I’m going to stay here until we know they are non-existent.’
Relief washed over Hattie but then she started to protest. ‘You can’t sit up all night, Luke.’
‘I can if I want to,’ he said. ‘Now why don’t you get to bed?’
‘Fiona’s in Xander’s room,’ said Hattie. ‘But this is a sofa bed: you could go there, Xan. Luke, you take my room. I’ll slip in next to Fiona. It’s a double bed.’
Hattie didn’t actually intend to share a bed with Fiona but she knew Luke wouldn’t take her bed if she didn’t pretend she was going to.
Luke shook his head. ‘Let’s make up the sofa bed for Xander, but I’m staying down here. You go to your room, Hattie, and try to get some sleep.’
Something about the way he said it told Hattie there was no point in arguing.
Hattie’s room was very comfortable. She had put an armchair by the window with a Welsh wool rug over the back. She had designed it as a reading nook and now she sat there, the rug over her knees, and found her book on her phone. She had no intention of going to sleep.
She wasn’t sure if she’d dreamt the sound of a car, or if there really had been one, but she was downstairs in a flash. Luke was standing by the front door and the two dogs stood beside him, all as still as statues.
Luke put his finger to his lips. Hattie nodded.
The car must have been parked a little way away from the house and the driver must have been quiet on purpose. Hattie could hardly discern any sound, although one of the dogs whimpered.
‘What time is it?’ Hattie breathed.
‘About one,’ Luke replied.
And then suddenly there was a banging on the door so loud Hattie’s heart pounded. She heard a door opening upstairs and Fiona came running down.
‘I’ll deal with this,’ said Luke quietly. ‘Fiona, make sure you stay out of sight.’
The banging came again. ‘Who is it?’ said Luke.
‘I’ve come for my wife!’ Lance shouted. ‘I know she’s in there!’
‘You must have the wrong house, mate.’
‘I don’t think so!’ bellowed Lance. ‘Let me in so I can look.’
‘You must be joking,’ said Luke calmly. ‘I’m not letting a nutter who bangs on my door at this time of night into my house.’ One of the dogs let out a well-timed bark at this.
There was a pause. ‘Who are you?’ asked Lance.
‘None of your business, mate, but I’m just a man who you’ve woken up for some mad reason. Now I suggest you go home and sleep it off, before I call the police or set my dogs on to you.’
‘But this is her house!’ said Lance.
‘Whose house?’
‘The madwoman, the property hunter – what’s her name?’
‘I don’t know what her name is, or what your name is, but I’m going to be calling the police if you’re not off my doorstep by the count of ten. And I’m letting the dogs out then too.’
‘Tell me who you are!’ demanded Lance.
