It must be nearly midnight, the heating has been off for an hour and the room has grown cold. She goes into the kitchen to heat up some milk in the microwave. A good discussion at evening class tonight, they asked her to join them at the pub afterwards, but she made the usual excuses: “I really must get an early night, I”ve got so much on this week.’ Evening classes, yoga, pilates, choir, such a full life, always keeping busy. No wonder she fell asleep over the newspaper, didn’t notice how late it was till the cold woke her.

The computer is still powered on, better switch it off before bedtime, just check the emails one last time. She opens the inbox, and sees his name.

She stares. She feels her heartbeat, her breath, quickening as they once did at the sound of his voice, at the sight of his smile. But this time it is with dread, not joy, and a coldness is forming in the pit of her stomach, like ice around a snowball.

What the hell does he want?

Behind her, she hears the ping of the microwave

No more hesitation. She clicks on the message, and without opening it, adds the address to the “Blocked sender list”.

Glancing up, she catches sight of the bird, balanced on top of the monitor. In the dark of the cold house, she knows the time for running away is over. The black eyes watch as she finds the website, and the warm desert colours fill the screen.

He crawls back into the apartment, almost daybreak, he needs a shower and clean shirt, to wash away the smell of Tiffany with her so-prefect body and her so-perfect bedroom. He’s bored already, he will have to think of some excuse, some way of getting rid of her, though he suspects she’s the type who isn’t got rid of easily.

He pauses by the mailbox. The envelope he takes out with his own handwriting on the front looks battered and forlorn after its double Atlantic crossing. He curses when he reads the words she has written on it: “Return to sender”.

She parks the car outside the ranger station. Not really built for these roads, she hopes the hire company are forgiving. When she gets herself settled, she will buy an SUV, this kind of landscape justifies it. Once the money from the sale of the house in England comes through, she should be able to make herself comfortable, and she still can’t quite believe the salary they’ve offered her for the new job.

The screen door of the ranger station bangs shut, and a familiar figure is hurrying towards her, a smile of welcome, a warm hug.

‘It’s so great to have you back!’

He steps away from her, hand still on her shoulder, holding her at arm’s length, looking down into her face. She can’t stop smiling.

‘You look terrific. Why’d you stay away so long? How are you?’

‘Much better for being here!’ She turns and waves as another old friend comes down the steps towards her.

‘And your husband? How’s he doing these days?’

‘Ex-husband’, she corrects, then, seeing the embarrassment on his face, she shakes her head.

‘No, it’s fine, honestly, it’s great. Just took me a long time to realise that I didn’t have to keep running away from him, that’s all.’ She steps away, and turns slowly, taking in the way the golden light bounces off the rocky crags, the buds on the cactus, the noise of the crickets. ‘And that I didn’t have to let him chase me away from the place where I belong.’

With a crow of joy, the eagle lifts from its perch and gives itself to the warm air rising beneath its wings.