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how we can go for that option, when we have the chance to forget it ever happened.’
    He nodded sadly. ‘But can we forget?’
    ‘We can try.’

    F or a minute or two there was a companionable silence. The real communication was in the physical connection, their fingers gently twisting together.
    Harry sighed. ‘I can’t understand how they forced the lock without us hearing. To get upstairs and into our bedroom …’
    ‘Because we’re exhausted. Think how long it’s been since we had a good night. When we do sleep it’s probably much deeper than we realise.’
    ‘Hmm. We’d better see about getting an alarm fitted.’
    Alice agreed. Then she said, ‘The threat that they’re watching us, would it be a bluff? I mean, they got the wrong address, so what reason do they have to stick around?’
    ‘They don’t. Unless …’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Well, suppose they find this guy, Renshaw or whatever he’s called, and to save his own skin he tells them what they want to hear – the way we might have done. He could claim that we are part of some conspiracy. That we did lie to them.’
    Alice tightened her grip on his hand. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’
    ‘It’s unlikely, but not impossible. Then again, they got the wrong house, so maybe they’re not as smart as we think.’ He mused on it. ‘What could be in the parcel that’s so important?’
    ‘I don’t want to speculate. Look, Evie’s zonked out. We ought to try and sleep.’
    ‘Okay. But are you sure about not calling the police?’
    ‘Not really.’ She shivered. ‘I feel like I’m being a coward. But I just don’t see what it would achieve. Do you?’
    He half sat up, leaning over Evie to plant a kiss on Alice’s forehead. She gave him a brief, taut smile in return. Harry switched off the bedside light and winced at how menacing the darkness now seemed.
    Got to get used to it , he thought. But his hand slipped beneath his pillow, seeking the reassuring weight of the hammer.

    H e lay as still as possible, trying to clear his mind and focus on breathing slowly. It didn’t work, of course. At best he was able to avoid fixating on the ordeal itself, but he couldn’t drag himself away from other questions. Why us? Why our address? Why tonight?
    He thought about the parcel, and the man they were hunting. How long had Renshaw eluded them, and where was he now? Harry found himself wondering if the man did, in some way, deserve what was coming, should his pursuers catch up with him.
    Alice, in the quietest of whispers: ‘You asleep?’
    ‘Sparko. You?’
    A well-worn joke; normally it prompted a smile, at least. Tonight all he got was a tired exhalation.
    ‘You know,’ she whispered, ‘when Evie was born I felt almost overwhelmed by all the new terrors that seemed to accompany her into the world. That she’ll catch an infection, some horrible disease that won’t respond to treatment. That we’ll drop her in the bath, or she’ll poke her fingers into a plug socket. That somewhere out there is the person who one day is going to run her down as she’s walking home from school on a winter’s afternoon …’
    A pause to catch herself left an unearthly silence in the room; the only thing that moved was a tear, rolling down Harry’s cheek.
    ‘I worry that she’ll have spots, like I did for a while, and be convinced that she’s ugly. That she’ll be bullied or excluded by the in-crowd, the bitchy girls. That she’ll grow up to be too fat, or too thin, too tall or too short. Too clever by half or not clever enough. That boys won’t fancy her – or that they will …’
    Another pause. Harry knew what was coming now, and he had to let her say it, no matter how much it hurt them both.
    ‘But I never would have dreamt that at eight weeks old a man with a knife would hold her in his fist and threaten to cut—’
    ‘It’s okay. It’s okay now.’ He managed to reach over and hold her as she wept. Conscious of Evie between them, she barely