Page 65 of The House Swap

‘You must miss having someone around,’ she said quietly.

Poppy shrugged. Even though it was true, this conversation was making her a little on edge. ‘I’m fine,’ she repeated, a little more firmly this time.

Ian grinned. ‘You keep saying that.’

She was sure he meant it lightly, but his comment had her back up. She took a sip of wine, her throat dry.

‘You know, you don’t have to pretend with us, love,’ Sue said, watching her.

‘I’m not pretending.’

Although Sue’s smile remained, it seemed to sharpen. ‘I just mean, you don’t have to be brave all the time.’

Ian raised his eyebrows and nodded in agreement. ‘Everyone needs someone to lean on.’

Poppy stared at them, suddenly aware of the closeness of the room; the candles flickering and the warm heaviness of the air. Her cheeks were hot.

She forced a smile. ‘I have people back home.’

Sue made a small, dismissive sound. ‘Yes, back home. But not here.’

They were just being kind. And if Poppy wasn’t already unsettled, their words would have landed that way. Instead, they continued to niggle, even as the subject changed.

Ian went to pour more wine.

‘No, thank you,’ she told him, already feeling the effect of what she had drunk. Startled when he ignored her, topping up her glass anyway.

‘Oh, go on,’ he said lightly. ‘It’s Sunday. And it’s to relax.’

Poppy’s fingers tightened around her fork. She wanted to tell herself she was being paranoid. Sue and Ian were simply warm, slightly overbearing people who liked to feed and water their guests.

It was the questions they had been asking that had put her on edge. About being alone. About feeling safe. It began to make her feel as though she was being measured. Assessed. Almost as though they were trying to gauge how much she would tolerate.

She was grateful when Sue started with her anecdotes again – this one about a farewell barbecue they had thrown back home before moving to Crete – and she was able to finish her dinner without more questions.

After they had eaten, Sue cleared the plates with brisk efficiency, stacking them neatly before carrying them through to the kitchen. While she was gone, Ian insisted on topping up Poppy’s glass again.

She had given up protesting, figuring she would try not to drink it.

Not so easy, though, when the glassful sat in front of her.

When Sue returned, she squeezed in on the bench seat beside Poppy, closer than before. Her knee brushed against Poppy’s under the table.

It was an accident, and Sue didn’t even seem to notice. Still, Poppy pulled discreetly away, not comfortable with having someone in her personal space.

‘I suppose I should book a taxi,’ she said. Time to call it an evening.

‘You don’t need to do that yet,’ Sue said dismissively. ‘We haven’t even had dessert. I’ve just put it in the oven to warm it up.’

‘I can book it for a later time,’ Poppy suggested.

‘Love, don’t worry about it for now. The night’s still young.’

‘I have an idea,’ Ian said. ‘Why don’t you stay? We have a spare room, and it will save all this fussing about with taxis.’

‘Oh, that’s a good idea,’ Sue agreed.

Poppy was dreading returning to Tom’s villa, but being at Sue and Ian’s wasn’t much better. Of course, she couldn’t say that. Not after they had been so hospitable.