Page 39 of The House Swap

How close had she left the bottle to the counter edge? Had it somehow fallen off by itself?

Unlikely, but she couldn’t figure out any other explanation.

Unsettled, and knowing she wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep, she went back to the bedroom to grab her dressing gown, deciding that after she had cleared away the mess, she would make herself a cup of tea.

As she approached the hallway with its bank of floor-to-ceiling windows, she heard the distinctive crunch of footsteps against gravel.

Her head shot up and she stared outside into the darkness. For a split second, she was certain she saw the glint of movement, but then it was gone.

She stood very still, listening. But there was nothing. No more footsteps. No voices. No car engine fading away. Just the hiss of the sea in the distance.

Her pulse hammered painfully in her throat.

You imagined it.

It had to be her nerves. The broken bottle was enough but throw in the empty villa and the darkness – plus the worry of the day she’d had – and it wasn’t a surprise that her brain was filling in shapes that weren’t really there.

She flipped the switch for the hall light, turning it off again, then as her eyes adjusted to the dark outside, she stepped closer to the glass. Now she could see the terrace bathed silver in moonlight, the pool no more than a dark sheet of inky black, and the white wall beyond it was empty.

No one was there.

The edge of relief loosened her shoulders and she checked the patio handle once again, needing the extra reassurance.

Still locked.

As she turned away, something made her glance back.

Not movement. Absence. The throw she had wrapped around herself earlier when the temperature dipped outside, it was no longer draped over her sun lounger.

Poppy frowned, spotting it lying in a loose heap on the floor.

She stared at it for several seconds, waiting for her mind to supply a reasonable explanation of how it had got there.

Was it the wind maybe?

Though there didn’t seem to be any breeze. And she distinctly remembered tucking it beneath the cushion so it wouldn’t slide off.

Very slowly, she stepped away from the window, unable to shake the feeling that she was being watched.

She had a horrible feeling it was going to be a very long night.

16

THURSDAY 5 NOVEMBER

Poppy didn’t remember falling asleep.

At some point, exhaustion must have taken hold, because when she opened her eyes again, pale morning light was seeping through the blinds and her neck ached from lying half propped up against the headboard.

For a few seconds, she didn’t move, the events of the previous night creeping back to her. The broken wine bottle and the sense that someone had been outside on the terrace.

Now, daylight brought fresh perspective, and as the rational part of her mind reasserted itself, it brought with it a flush of embarrassment.

Had she worked herself up over nothing?

She pushed back the duvet and padded down the hallway. The villa looked exactly as it had before she’d gone to bed. Tidy, still and harmless.

The kitchen still smelt a little of stale wine. Although she’d cleared up the mess, the broken glass was in a carrier bag on the floor, waiting to be taken outside to the bins.