Beth ignored him, staring back at the monitor. The woman sat, the men draped in devotion, but all were static. “I rang the doorbell but there was no reply,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind me barging in like this, but the back door was open.” She did mind. She minded very much. And why was the back door open? Perhaps James had opened it this morning and forgotten to close it before he left. Latham had given her a start. She watched the computer for a while longer, waiting for something, but it evaded her. Her nerves were still jangling after the night she’d just had; a night that had, apparently, been nothing more than a figment of her chaotic imagination. How could she have imagined with such vividness? It all seemed so real to her. She recovered enough to paste a smile on her lips, and direct it in Latham’s direction. “That’s okay, Arthur,” she said, with a brightness she didn’t feel.
