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Oooooo no. No, no, no. Not just yet.

I fall back against soft sofa cushioning, lift my phone and scan text messages. I open Marcus’s message first, expecting him to say he never wants to see me again. But to my surprise, his message reads like a very sweet letter:

‘Dear Katerina, thank you for the pleasure of your company today. You were enchanting. Would you like to come to dinner with me at Chutney Mary next week? They have a very ethical spice-sourcing policy.’

All my love,

Marcus.’

All my love.

I give a startled blink. Marcus wasn’t put off by what Chris said? Wow. That’s a surprise. Nice to have two horses still in the running, Ascot pun intended.

I read one of Ahmet’s messages next:

‘Katerina! First of all, did you get home okay? I don’t want to misogynistically suggest that a lady with MS can’t manage travel by herself, and I know you’re very capable. But do let me know. I so enjoyed today. I am having withdrawal symptoms from your company! You are fizzy and fun like a glass of champagne. Thank you for putting up with me talking away. Did I talk too much? I bet I did. I always do when I’m excited. I think you’re just lovely. Lots of love, Ahmet.’

Then, there’s another message from Ahmet:

‘BTW – would you like to go out with me again this weekend if you’re feeling up to it? I promise a better dinner this time. Not that it wasn’t a marvellous dinner! My compliments to you as a chef. It was me who was terrible. Maybe we can go ballroom dancing and then have someone else cook a meal for us. Lots of love, Ahmet.’

And another message:

‘Forgot to say, I loved your dress and hat. Thank you for lighting up Royal Ascot with your literary presence. All those books got me thinking. Maybe we can go to the British Library? Since we both like it so much. But then we couldn’t talk very much there, and I like talking to you. See you soon, I hope. Love, Ahmet.’

Then another message:

‘Sorry to call, I just thought it might be quicker but I’ve obviously missed you. You don’t have to call back. I was just wondering because I’ve been looking online and found a terrific Italian restaurant near your new office for next week. Maybe we could go for lunch or after work? I am hovering, ready to click and book and wondered if you would like to be my charming lady companion. Let me know! Love Ahmet.’

And one last message:

‘Just to let you know, the restaurant has lots of good vegan options such as ravioli with courgette ribbons. Love Ahmet.’

As I’m reading Ahmet’s last message, a text bleeps through from Freddy:

‘Your team are fine and everything at Little Voice is running smoothly. All of today’s targets met. Rest and don’t think about work.’

I let my phone drop to my lap, feeling relieved. With the relief comes more warmth, pain relief. I venture a leg movement. Still uncomfortable, but a five out of ten rather than a nine.

Can I risk ordering a curry? I don’t want to order food and have to crawl to the front door to get it. Maybe I could get the delivery person to come in and put it on the coffee table –

Another message from Freddy bleeps through:

‘I’m outside.’

I freeze. No. Freddy can’t possibly mean –

Bang, bang, bang!

I twist on the sofa. ‘Shit. OW!’

‘Kat?’ Freddy’s voice calls through the door.

I try to slow my breathing, holding my body rigid and silent.

‘Kat.’ Freddy knocks on the door again, more gently this time. ‘I know you’re in there. Your cane is lying on the front step. And I just heard you swear. Look, I need to know you’re okay. Let me in or I’m going to have to break the door down.’

I curl up on the sofa, attempting to become invisible, breathing quietly and praying,please, please, please go away.