She had walked past Jacob’s house that evening. Her plan was to walk past his window so that he would knock and she could act all surprised as if this didn’t happen every Thursday.

Heather was in a good mood that day. Jacob had called her that morning to say he’d been accepted to Cambridge and she had went into her small village to get a few gifts, preparing herself for a cosy night in with her ‘favourite guy’.

A nagging shadow had followed her all day, but she didn’t know why, and she didn’t care to indulge in worrying about it: no bad feelings were going to get in the way of this amazing day.

When she got to her destination, she found her boyfriend sitting outside his front door on the steps outside. He got up and she came close to hold him, but Jacob pushed her away, and then he began to talk.

The conversation was the hardest she had ever had to endure. She kept shaking her head and denying, trying to convince herself to wake up, that this was all a dream. It was too real to handle.