As I step through the front door, the cottage is silent. No Joe upstairs in the shower or watching TV. And it hits me – he will never be here again. I’ll never forgive him for what he did. It’s just occurred to me that without Joe, I won’t be able to afford the rent on this place. I’ll have to hand my notice in to George. I run a hand down the wall, stroking it. This was my home. Joe and I were saving for a deposit to buy something similar to this. We were even going to ask George if he’d consider selling his rental to us. But now… Well. Now everything has changed.

‘Frank!’ My gorgeous cat comes strolling down the stairs, purring loudly. ‘At least someone’s here to greet me.’ I bend down to scratch behind his ears. ‘Let’s get your supper, Mr Frankie.’ He trots into the kitchen ahead of me, tail in the air, and I get him his food.

What a day. I never knew Seb had such a terrifying temper. For a moment back there at the shop, I really did think he was going to physically attack me. But now I realise he was simply sticking up for Pippa. He had thought I had unfairly sacked her. I hope she’ll be okay. I wonder if she will ever forgive me. Maybe Seb can talk her round. Or maybe it’s best that we take a break for a while. After all, I can’t lose sight of the fact that she was stealing from the shop. No matter how much of a friend I consider her to be, what she did was wrong. It could have cost me my job as well.

‘There you go, Frank. Food.’ I set his bowl down on his mat and he starts eating. I should eat too. My stomach is hollow and I’m more than a little light-headed. But my throat is too constricted to eat a proper meal. I take a cream cracker out of the biscuit tin and nibble at the corner. It tastes of sawdust, and even the smallest mouthful is like swallowing rocks. But I persevere.

Should I go to bed? My mind is numb. I should surely be crying or angry or something, but I’ve been suppressing my emotions all day at work, and now that I’m finally free to let them out, they want to stay locked down tight. I should speak to Emma. I owe her a huge apology. I wonder if we’ll ever regain the bond we once had, or if it’s shattered for good. I can’t speak to her now, though, I’m no good for anything.

I finish chewing my cracker and run myself a glass of water from the tap. The whoosh of water is loud, echoing. I drink down the whole glass and it revives me a little. It’s so quiet. I’m beginning to wish I’d stayed out a little longer. But I would still have had to come home at some point.

The doorbell sounds and I freeze. Who could it be? Seb again? Emma? Not Joe – I’m pretty sure he would use his key, unless he’s trying to be thoughtful. I can’t face talking to him. Not this evening. Everything is still too raw. I don’t have the energy for another screaming match. What if it’s my stalker? The doorbell rings once more. I tiptoe along the hall and sidle into the sitting room, where I peer out of the window. Exhaling in relief, I see it’s only Ruby from next door. I suppose I could ignore the bell, pretend I’m out. But maybe she saw me coming home earlier. I give myself a shake. I should just answer the flipping door. I stretch out my arms and then rub at my cheeks, hoping I don’t look too much of a mess.

‘Hi, Ruby!’ I cry, pulling open the door. I was aiming for a normal-slash-friendly tone, but my voice sounds manic and too high-pitched.

She’s standing on the doorstep wearing baby-pink tracksuit bottoms with her regulation crop top, showing off an incredible figure. ‘Hi, Lizzy,’ she says. ‘Tell me to piss off and mind my own business, but are you okay?’

‘Okay?’ I smile brightly. ‘Yes, I’m fine.’

Ruby bites her lip. ‘You sure? Only Ian bumped into Joe today, and he said you two had had a fight. I’m not being nosy or anything, I just wondered if you might want some company?’ Her blue eyes are huge and filled with concern.

‘Oh.’ Annoyingly, my emotions seem to have chosen this particular moment to surface. A tear slips down my face.

‘Lizzy! Are you okay? Stupid question, ’course you’re not.’ She steps into the hallway and gives me an awkward hug.

‘I’m fine, honestly. I know I don’t look like it.’ I give a strangled laugh. ‘But I’ll be okay in a sec.’

‘You don’t have to put a brave face on for me,’ Ruby says. ‘I know what it’s like when your boyfriend acts like a dickhead. Not Ian! No, Ian’s good as gold. My last boyfriend, though, he was a total knob. Used to cheat on me all the time, till I kicked him to the kerb. You and Joe will get back together though, won’t you? You look rock solid, you two.’

I shake my head slowly. ‘No, Ruby. We’re finished.’

‘Did he break up with you? Sorry, ignore me. Just being a nosy cow. You don’t have to talk about it. I just wanted to see if you were okay, and if there’s anything I can do.’

‘You’re really sweet,’ I say, sniffing back more tears.

‘Ha! Never been called sweet before.’

Despite my tears, I manage a small smile. ‘Why don’t you come in for a bit? If you’re not too busy. Have a cuppa with me, or… hang on, I think there’s a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc in the fridge.’ I go into the kitchen and pull open the fridge door. Ruby follows me down the hallway. ‘Yep, three quarters of a bottle. Want to help me finish it off?’

‘Not really a wine drinker, but yeah, okay, why not. Thanks.’

‘Hey, Frank.’ I reach down to stroke him, but now he’s had his food, he’s not too interested and he scoots past Ruby and scampers back upstairs.

‘Cute cat,’ Ruby says. ‘He used to hang out in our garden, but I haven’t seen him for a while.’

‘He had an injury, so I’ve had to keep him indoors.’

‘Poor thing,’ Ruby says. ‘Sounds like you’re both having a crap time.’

I pour us each a glass of wine and open a packet of Kettle Chips that Joe was saving for the weekend. I pass Ruby a glass and shake the crisps into a bowl. ‘Let’s go into the lounge.’

I sit in my usual spot on the sofa while Ruby sits on one of the armchairs. I take a sip of the cool, crisp wine and try to think of something to say. It seemed like a good idea, inviting her in for a drink. But now she’s here, the atmosphere is a little awkward.

‘So, how come you and Joe split up?’ Ruby asks.

I don’t know if I have the energy to recount the whole story with her. She seems lovely, but we hardly know one another. I’ll keep it vague. ‘I found out he lied to me.’

‘About another girl?’

I nod. ‘My sister, actually.’ I hadn’t meant to say that.

Ruby’s eyes widen. ‘That’s harsh.’

‘She didn’t do anything with him. But he tried it on with her.’

Ruby shakes her head. ‘I would never have put Joe as the cheating type. I mean, he’s fit as anything – good-looking, ripped. But I could tell he was really into you when you came round to ours. Didn’t look like he wanted anyone else. Not being funny, but most blokes flirt with me a lot. Joe? Not so much.’

‘Yeah, well. The thing with my sister was five years ago, so maybe he’s not like that any more.’

‘Five years ago? So why are you getting mad now?’

‘I only just found out. And the thing is, I blamed Emma – my sister. And he let me blame her. He let me think she was the one who’d chased him, not the other way around.’ I realise my glass is empty. ‘Want another?’

Ruby nods. ‘What a wanker. Yeah, I guess I’d have kicked him out too.’

I get up and weave my way unsteadily into the kitchen, bring back the bottle of wine and distribute the rest between us. I take a handful of crisps and stuff them into my mouth. I need something to soak up the alcohol. They’re sharp and salty, scraping the back of my throat. I offer the bowl to Ruby, but she shakes her head.

‘You ever catch that stalker?’ she asks.

‘No.’ The crisps feel hard and undigested in my throat, so I gulp down more wine. ‘It’s all gone wrong, Ruby.’ I set my glass down on the coffee table and try to bite back my tears.

She comes and sits by my side. ‘Hey, it’s bad now, but it’ll be okay. My mum always used to say that sometimes things have to fall apart to make way for better things.’

‘Your mum sounds like a wise woman.’ I sniff.

‘Have the police got any closer to catching him, whoever it is?’

I shake my head. ‘The police are supportive, but they haven’t come up with any evidence or DNA or anything.’

‘Bummer. Look, if you ever feel down, or nervous or anything, you know you can always come next door. Ian and me, we don’t have that many friends – losers, I know! But we love having people round. And I already feel like we’re friends. So, just saying.’

‘Thanks, Ruby. I really appreciate that. And I also appreciate you coming round like this. It was really thoughtful. Makes me feel like I’m not so alone.’

‘’Course.’ She nudges me with her elbow and I manage a smile. Even though I have a hollow feeling inside that’s not due to lack of food. ‘Look,’ she says, ‘I’ve just thought of something.’ She kicks off her flip-flops, wriggles back into the sofa and brings her feet up under her.

‘What?’

‘Well, you know I clean for CCR.’

‘Who?’

‘Cotswold Country Retreats.’

‘Oh, yeah, the holiday let company.’

‘Yeah. Well, at the end of each quarter, all the staff’s names are put into a sweepstake to win a minibreak, and I won the last one.’

‘Nice. When are you going?’

‘Well, that’s the thing. I booked it for this coming Friday and Saturday night. Me and Ian were going to have a dirty weekend away.’ She winks.

I wish she hadn’t put that image in my head.

‘Anyway, long story short, remember I came into Georgio’s for that retirement card? Well, the party’s this Saturday night. I got the dates of the holiday mixed up. Bloody annoying. But we have to go to Ian’s dad’s thing – he’s renting next door to us really cheap, and he’s Ian’s dad, so we kind of have to show our support. But it’s too late to change the booking for the minibreak. So bang goes our weekend in a posh place.’

‘Oh no, that’s a shame. Surely your company will let you change the booking?’

‘Nope, too short notice. It’s my own fault for cocking up the dates.’ She pulls a face. ‘Anyway, what I’m getting at is that you should go.’

‘Go? I don’t understand.’

‘On the posh minibreak!’ She beams. ‘You’d love it, Lizzy. It’s not naff. It’s proper premium. Honestly, like something out of a magazine. It’s got a swimming pool and everything.’

‘Sounds amazing,’ I say, thinking that the last thing I need to be doing is going to a posh holiday home on my own. I’m just not in the mood.

‘Look.’ Ruby pulls her phone out of her pocket and starts tapping and swiping. She scooches up next to me again and shows me some pictures of a place that looks like it’s straight out of Ideal Home magazine.

‘It’s beautiful,’ I agree.

‘So you’ll go? You deserve a weekend to pamper yourself, after all the crap you’ve been going through.’

‘I’d love to, but I’ve got to work tomorrow and Saturday.’

‘Call in sick.’

‘Ruby!’

‘What?’

‘I love my job. I can’t call in sick. Especially now that… well, let’s just say that I’m short-staffed at the moment. And with Joe gone, the last thing I need is to lose my job.’

‘Okay, then. Go for one night. Saturday night after work. It’s only up the road, about fifteen minutes’ drive away. One night of serious luxury.’

I stare at the aqua swimming pool on the screen. At the teak sunloungers and the striped hammock. I think of easing myself into the hammock. Letting the sun warm my bones as I pretend to live a life of luxury. Of gliding beneath the surface of the pool like you see in the holiday adverts. ‘I can’t,’ I reply. ‘But thanks so much for offering. It was really generous of you.’

‘Well, the offer’s still there if you change your mind,’ Ruby says, getting to her feet. ‘Better get back. Ian will be wondering where I’ve got to.’

‘Thank you, Ruby.’

I see my neighbour out and close the door behind her. The house feels emptier than ever. But I’m not going to wallow. I’m not going to think about it. I’m going to crawl into bed and try to sleep.

I climb the stairs, run a toothbrush around my mouth, peel off my clothes and slide beneath the sheets. The space next to me is as wide as a mile and as empty as a canyon. Even Frank has deserted me, taking himself back downstairs. Lying huddled on ‘my side’ of the bed, I feel like a failure. Like I’ve done something wrong, when I know I haven’t. I close my eyes and attempt to empty my mind. To slip between the silences of my ticking bedside clock. But it’s impossible to stop thinking about everything.

Defiantly, I stretch my legs across the mattress, kicking angrily at the covers as they try to impede my movement. And now I’m lying diagonally across the bed, proving to myself that I don’t miss him. That it’s better this way, with my toes meeting no resistance. I’m free to sprawl whichever way I like. But the truth is, it’s strange. And my heart is heavy.

My eyes remain closed, but my brain doesn’t want to shut down. Maybe I should give up on the idea of sleep; read or get up and go downstairs. However, at some point during the night, I must have dozed off eventually because now I’m being dragged awake by a furious banging sound. I gasp and sit upright, trying to reorientate myself. I’m in my bed. Joe’s gone. I’m alone. My heart is pounding. The landing light throws a narrow strip of light into the bedroom. I glance at the bedside clock. It reads 2.15 a.m. Now the doorbell is ringing, too, accompanied by further heavy banging.

Someone is at the front door.