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I could lock myself away for at least ten days with all of the supplies I’d purchased. Except that I was going to have to go out since I couldn’t find an excuse to refuse Abby’s invitation; I’d simply negotiated a few days to prepare myself.
    My landlords had a nice home. I was comfortably settled on the couch, in front of a large fireplace, with a steaming hot cup of tea in my hand.
    Jack was a giant with a white beard. His calm demeanor tempered his wife’s permanent liveliness. With disconcerting ease, he had poured himself a pint of Guinness at four o’clock in the afternoon. Rugby players who eat mutton and drink stout, I mused, to complete Felix’s description. And the dark ale immediately made me think of Colin.
    In spite of this, I managed to hold up my end of the conversation. I first talked about their dog, Postman Pat, who had jumped all over me when I arrived and who never left my side. Then I talked about the rain and the nice weather—well, mainly about the rain—and how comfortable the cottage was. After that, I started to run out of things to say.
    â€œAre you from Mulranny?” I finally asked.
    â€œYes, but we lived in Dublin until I retired,” Jack replied.
    â€œWhat did you do?”
    â€œHe was a doctor,” Abby cut in. “But tell us what you do, that’s far more interesting. And I’m especially curious to know why you would come to bury yourself in this place.”
    Bury myself, exactly; the answer was in the question.
    â€œI wanted to see some new places.”
    â€œAll alone? How come a pretty girl like you isn’t with someone?”
    â€œLeave her be,” Jack scolded.
    â€œIt would take too long to explain. Well, I have to get going,” I said, stony-faced.
    I stood up, picked up my jacket and handbag and headed to the door. Abby and Jack followed behind. I’d put a damper on things. I tripped over Postman Pat several times, then he ran outside as soon as the door was opened.
    â€œSuch a big baby must keep you very busy!” I said (and then thought of Clara).
    â€œOh, Good Lord, he’s not ours,” Abby told me.
    â€œWho does he belong to?”
    â€œEdward. Our nephew. We take care of him when Edward’s away.”
    â€œHe’s your neighbor.”
    I was disappointed. I’d thought that the house next door would remain empty, which suited me down to the ground. I didn’t need any neighbors. I already felt that my landlords were too close by.
    They walked me to my car. The dog started to bark and run around in circles. A black Land Rover spattered with mud had just parked in front of the house, rolling to a halt in front of my car.
    â€œWell, speak of the devil,” Jack exclaimed.
    â€œWait a few minutes,” said Abby, taking my arm to hold me back, “we’ll introduce you.”
    The nephew in question got out of the car. His rugged face and scornful expression made me feel no warmth towards him. Jack and Abby went over to him. He leaned against his car’s door and crossed his arms. The more I looked at him, the more unappealing I found him. He didn’t smile. He reeked of arrogance. The kind of guy who would spend hours in the bathroom to work on looking like a nonchalant adventurer. He made it clear he didn’t want to socialize.
    â€œEdward, that’s good timing!” Abby said.
    â€œOh? Why?”
    â€œIt’s time you met Diane.”
    He finally turned to look at me. He lowered his sunglasses—useless given the mist—and looked me up and down. I had the impression of being a slab of meat on a counter. And judging from the look he gave me, I didn’t seem to stimulate his appetite.
    â€œUm, no, not really. Who is she?” he asked, coldly.
    I took it upon myself to remain polite and walked over to him.
    â€œIt seems you’re my neighbor.”
    His face clouded over even more. He stood up straight and turned to my