Page 40 of Rich Little Liars

‘The spare room.’

‘And where exactly was this person standing?’

‘Near the side gate. The one that leads round to the front.’

He writes this down. ‘Can you describe them?’

‘I couldn’t see properly. It was dark. They were just a shape. A dark shape.’

‘Height? Build?’

‘Average? I think? I couldn’t really tell from that angle.’

‘Were they doing anything? Moving around? Looking in windows?’

‘No. Just standing there. Not moving.’

He looks up from his notebook. His expression remains neutral, but I can see what’s happening behind his eyes. Woman alone. Middle of the night. Vague description. The maths of it adding up to something that’s probably nothing.

‘Has anything like this happened before?’ he asks.

The question lands wrong. Like he already knows the answer. Like he’s testing me.

‘No. I mean… I’ve seen shapes in the garden a couple of times. But I thought it was just trash cans or whatever. This was different.’

‘Different how?’

‘It was closer. More obviously a person.’

He writes this down too. ‘And you live here alone?’

‘Yes.’

‘How long have you been at this address?’

‘A few weeks.’

‘New to the area then.’

It’s not a question, but I nod anyway.

‘And before that?’

‘I moved from out of town. After my husband died.’

His pen pauses mid-word. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Was it recent?’

‘A little while ago. It’s still raw.’

‘Must be difficult. Big change like this, all on your own.’

The sympathy in his voice sounds genuine, but it still feels like part of the assessment. Building a picture of Kelly Reynolds, Bereaved Widow, who sees intruders in empty yards.

‘Would you mind if I take a look round?’ he asks. ‘Check your property, make sure everything’s secure?’

‘Of course. Yes. Please.’

He moves towards the kitchen and I follow, suddenly conscious of how the house must look to him. The lights in every room. The curtain that’s now drawn just enough to keep an eye on the property without being seen. The general air of someone who’s barricaded themselves inside.