The next time the flap door thumped, a few days later, Esme was prepared. She grabbed the bottle before it could ricochet around the room, and unfurled the note inside.
It was from Daniel; he had arrived back from his trip, and was coming over in the afternoon.
Upon hearing a knock on the front door, Esme opened it, not to Daniel, but to a stranger: a deliveryman, laden with three large rectangular parcels.
‘Delivery for an Esme Silver.’
Lillian helped her carry them into the living room, where they deposited them on the glass-topped piece of driftwood that served as a table. Squishy striped sofas sat on either side of it, and only a few feet away, glass doors led out to the canal.
A note accompanied the parcels.
Dear Ms Silver,
Theodore Sage informed me yesterday of your tragic los
