Lisa Wilkins skipped down the stairs to answer the doorbell. Towelling robe clad and rubbing her hair dry she opened to find the paperboy calling for payment. She was sure he timed his collection to coincide with her shower. But today was different.

“Someone left this on your doorstep.” He held up a single red rose, picked seemingly from a garden. She froze momentarily.

“Where was it?” She asked, noticing that his eyes had travelled instantly to her robe.

“Here.” He indicated to the centre of the step. Lisa looked around the scene and at the woodland opposite. She had a feeling of being watched. A feeling that she had been conscious of for some weeks. Once even believing, fleetingly, that she had seen … something. A movement of branches, not consistent with that days gentle breeze.

This was something concrete though. Now she was certain. Now her husband would have to take her seriously. Today was Friday and he was due home from London. With the children happily ensconced at a birthday party she could talk to him unfettered and for once, uninterrupted.

“I’ll look around the woods … tomorrow.” Glen said, wearily from the passenger seat as they left the station.

“Tonight. It won’t get dark until 9!” She persisted, driving carefully out into the late summer evening traffic.

“Fine. Tonight. After dinner, though, yeah? I could eat a horse.” His manner didn’t deter her. He noticed her pensiveness. “Look. It’s probably just the paper boy himself. Maybe he found it on the street and thought he’d try his luck. Or maybe it blew there.”

“Or maybe it’s a nutcase who’s targeted me!”

“I’ll take a quick look about before dinner, ok? Then tomorrow we’ll both look around properly. Take the kids for a ramble. But I’m tired and need to relax.” He sank a little into the upholstery and closed his eyes. “There’s talk of a merger at Brax. We need an injection of capital to invest in the Korean market and Sir Walter has asked me to head up a task force in Seoul.”

“What?”

“–I know. I know. It’s come at the wrong time for us. Let’s just talk over the pros and cons later, shall we?”

The morning entered into Lisa’s consciousness gently. Birds chirruped, milk bottles clinked and the lightness of the breeze flicked softly on the window netting. Glen had slept soundly for ten hours, giving her the impression that sleep hadn’t come easy to him in London.