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Learmonth yet then?”
    I shake my head. “We passed through on the way up, but that’s about it.”
    She glances about. “It’s a lovely spot, isn’t it? And with the beach so close, it’s wonderful.”
    “Yes, the kids are looking forward to the beach. I promised to take them down tomorrow.”
    She nods. “Well, I’ll see you. Take care and get a horseshoe, even if it’s just for decoration, to fit in. Its good luck, and you have a lovely family.”
    I watch her climb into her silver Vauxall Astra and drive away, gravel crunching loudly.
    I glance up at the door. A horse shoe if we want to fit in. Okay, I add it to my list of things to do before stepping back into the house, but the item slips from memory as soon as my feet cross the threshold. It’s time to start on dinner and I did promise Mary that I’d run her a bath.
     
    I massage shampoo into Mary’s hair. She has glorious hair, thick and dark. I love running my fingers through it, brushing it, dressing it.
    Mary sighs and sinks lower into the bubbles. “You spoil me, you really do.”
    “I know.”
    “Did the woman come about the furniture?”
    “Yep, all sorted. A van is picking up the pieces tomorrow, got a good price too. We should be able to put in that new kitchen you wanted.”
    She tilts her head back and I lean forward and peck her on the lips. “I better go check on the chilli. See you down there.”
    “Love you.”
    “Love you too.”
     
    I go into the bedroom first and find her pyjamas and slippers and lay them out on the bed. I love doing this, spoiling her. It makes me happy to see her smile. I never thought I’d feel this way about anyone, not after Nat. I thought Nat was the love of my life. Four years we were together and I did everything for her. Cooked, cleaned, managed the bills, and held back her hair so she could puke when she came back from a night out. She was a wild one, Nat, and it made me feel wild to be with her. Yet it soon wore thin. The drinking and the clubbing and the constant mess, and eventually the rose-tinted spectacles just fell off. I saw the relationship for what it was. I realised I was her bitch. I realised that she didn’t love me, not the way I loved her. I realised I was a comfort, someone to come home to, someone that would make it all better. So I left. It was hard at first, being alone, but after a couple of months it was like Nat had never existed. Then I met Mary. Newly divorced, sunny bright Mary with the perfect arse, and I knew I had to have her. Philip, my brother, introduced us. He thought Mary might be interested in my work, being an agent and all that. That’s exactly how he put it, and I could tell she wasn’t impressed. I didn’t know what to do but apologise. We talked about anything but my book and at the end of the evening she gave me her card. I called her the next day and she told me in no uncertain terms that she couldn’t sign me because she didn’t mix business with pleasure, but she could refer me to several agents that may be interested. Then she asked me out to dinner. The rest is history. Mary is everything that Nat is not. Mary doesn’t need me, she wants me, and that feels so good.
    A chill climbs up my spine and I shudder, swimming out of my thoughts. I turn to the window. It’s firmly closed. I tell myself it’s an old house and old houses have strange drafts. I move to the door and step into something cold and wet. Glancing down I see a small puddle of water. I look up at the ceiling but it’s dry, and then I see the footstep; wet imprints on the dark floor. For a moment I think its Mary, that she’s slipped out of the bath without me hearing. But the footsteps are too small. My arms have broken out in goose bumps as I follow the footsteps to the bathroom. They stop just outside.
    “Mary?”
    No answer.
    My heart is pounding real hard and I don’t know why. I reach for the doorknob. It’s wet. I panic and throw the door open. Mary is gone. No, she’s not