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Pongo leapt off the bed and the springs creaked, yet he carried on barking while Arlo swung his legs out of bed. ‘Pongo. Cease!’ Arlo ordered and the dog stopped for a few seconds before whimpering.

It was in the lull that Arlo heard the screams coming from the room below. Katie’s room. Pulse rate soaring, he leapt up, flung open the door, ran down the landing and almost fell down the attic stairs with Pongo clattering behind him, barking at the top of his voice again.

‘Katie! Don’t worry. I’m coming! Pongo, cease!’

He raced to Katie’s door and stopped. Pongo was mercifully silent, enabling Arlo to hear the sobs coming from her room. They struck right to his heart: she must be utterly distraught. He hesitated a moment, knowing he might be intruding – and if he hadn’t heard the screams first, he might have waited, but those cries of distress cut right through him.

He banged on the door, declaring, ‘Don’t worry. I’m here!’ and walked straight in.

His jaw hit the floor. Katie was bolt upright in bed, clutching the duvet, her eyes wide with what Arlo recognised as pure terror.

He rushed to her side, his instincts screaming that he should hold her, hug her, anything but hold back. ‘Katie. What’s the matter?’

Her brown curls were stuck to her face and she was drenched with sweat, yet she was shivering. She looked right through him as if he were a ghost.

Arlo touched her arm as gently as he could. ‘Katie. It’s Arlo. You’re safe. You’re in the Island House.’

‘Arlo?’ She shook her head. ‘The Island H-House?’

‘Yes. You’re on holiday and your friends will be here tomorrow. Today actually …’ A holiday seemed a ridiculous way to describe what she was going through now but he had to try to return her to familiarity and safety from the terrifying place she’d been.

She stared at him for a couple more seconds before releasing a juddering breath and putting her hand over her mouth.

‘Oh – I – I know where I am. I – Did I wake you?’

‘Yes. You sounded – distressed, so I came to see if I could help …’ He was treading on gossamer-thin ground, keen to show he was ready to help yet not wanting to alarm or embarrass her. Although it was probably too late for that, considering he was in her bedroom in the middle of the night.

She wrinkled her nose. ‘Oh, shit.’ She grimaced again. ‘Sorry. I meant, I’m sorry for waking you up. I probably just had a bit of a bad dream.’ She smiled far too cheerily. ‘Might have been the pork pie. Doh.’

Arlo smiled back, partly because she was returning to herself, whatever that was, yet he could see her fingers curled into a fist, perhaps to stop them trembling. Pongo laid his nose on Katie’s leg through the duvet. The dog could definitely sense something was very wrong.

‘Don’t worry about it. I – that is, Pongo and I thought it better to be safe than sorry.’

‘Very wise,’ Katie said, ‘of both of you.’ She patted Pongo’s head with a twinkle in her eye. Despite the attempt at humour – and she was pretty good, Arlo thought – he wasn’t convinced a ‘bit of a bad dream’ had induced those screams. They’d held real terror and the sobs afterwards had been heart-rending.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she said, adding hastily, ‘It’s probably the shock of coming to a new place.’

‘Was it about the Island House? It is pretty isolated.’

To his dismay, he wondered if her nightmare had been caused by him. Spending the night alone in a house with a stranger could have triggered her terror. ‘I can leave if it helps. Or I can leave Pongo with you instead.’

‘No!’ she said so quickly that Arlo cursed himself for his suggestion. He really hadn’t known what to say.

‘I wouldn’t dream of you leaving your own house in the middle of the night. I feel – silly now. This is so pathetic. I live alone in London and I’m always on my guard. I fought off a mugger with a hardback edition of Bleak House once. He needed three stitches,’ she said proudly.

Arlo blew out a breath. ‘That’s impressive. Especially that you’d read Bleak House. A thousand pages, isn’t it?’

‘Unfortunately, yes.’ She rolled her eyes. Arlo was glad to see her hand now resting lightly on the duvet and colour returning to her pale cheeks. She tugged the duvet a little higher and he wondered if she was cold and needed some privacy.

‘Can I fetch you anything?’ he asked. ‘A glass of water? I also think there’s some brandy on the drinks trolley in the sitting room. Or whisky. Maybe both.’

Katie shook her head. ‘I’m keeping you from your bed.’

‘Not at all. I’m wide awake now and I might have a drink myself.’

She seemed to notice her damp pyjama top and grimaced. ‘Oh, in that case, why not? Um, a cup of tea would be nice. I don’t think I can go back to sleep myself, so I may as well get up. I’ll come downstairs in a minute, if you’re sure I’m not being a pain?’

Her voice took on a hopeful lift and Arlo’s stomach flipped. Rumpled and messy, with her green eyes now bright again, Katie looked about as gorgeous as any woman he’d ever known.